#canetti

[ahumourlessworld]

“The history of the Romans is the greatest single reason for perpetuating wars. Their wars simply became the paragon of all success. For civilizations, they are the example of imperiums; for barbarians, the example of booty. But since all of us have both—civilization and barbarity—the earth may be destroyed by the heritage of the Romans.

What bad luck that the city of Rome survived when its empire was smashed! That the Pope kept it going! That vain emperors could capture her empty ruins and the name of Rome within them! Rome conquered Christianity by becoming Christendom. Every apostasy from Rome was merely a new great war. Every conversion to Rome, in the farthest corners of the world, was a continuance of the classical plunderings. America was discovered to reanimate slavery! Spain, as a Roman province, was the new lord of the world. Then the renewal of the Germanic plundering forays in the twentieth century. Only the measure gigantically magnified, the entire earth instead of the Mediterranean, and a hundred times as many people meeting with destruction, participating in it. Thus twenty Christian centuries were necessary to give the ancient and naked Roman idea a garment for its nakedness and a conscience for weak moments. And now that idea is here, perfect and equipped with all the forces of the soul. Who will destroy it? Is it indestructible? Has mankind, with thousandfold efforts, carefully conquered its own annihilation?” - Elias Canetti, ‘The Human Province’ (1978) [p. 28, 29]

[aitan]

"Quell'ultima mattina, mio padre, mentre faceva colazione, aveva letto il giornale che portava in prima pagina la notizia della dichiarazione di guerra del Montenegro alla Turchia; egli sapeva che in seguito a ciò la guerra si sarebbe estesa a tutti i Balcani e che molte persone sarebbero morte, e questa notizia lo aveva ucciso. Rammentai di aver visto per terra accanto a mio padre il «Manchester Guardian». Quando in casa trovavo da qualche parte un giornale, proprio lui mi permetteva di leggere i titoli ad alta voce, e di tanto in tanto, purché non si trattasse di cose troppo difficili, me ne spiegava il significato. Il signor Florentin mi disse che non c'era nulla di più terribile della guerra e che di questo lui e mio padre avevano parlato spesso, trovandosi perfettamente d'accordo. In Inghilterra tutti erano contrari alla guerra e qui di guerre non ce ne sarebbero state mai più.

Le sue parole penetrarono in me profondamente, come se le avesse pronunciate mio padre in persona. Le tenni per me, così come mi erano state dette in confidenza, quasi si trattasse di un pericoloso segreto. Quando negli anni che seguirono si continuava a ripetere che il mio papà era morto giovanissimo, mentre era in perfetta salute e senza ombra di malattia, colpito all'improvviso da una specie di folgore, allora io sapevo - e nessuno avrebbe potuto togliermi questa certezza - che la folgore era stata la terribile notizia dello scoppio della guerra. Da allora ce ne sono state di guerre nel mondo, e ogni guerra, ovunque si svolgesse, anche se talvolta veniva percepita appena nell'ambiente in cui vivevo, mi ha colpito con tutta la violenza di quella perdita prematura e mi ha coinvolto profondamente, come la cosa più personale che mi potesse succedere."

In Elias Canetti, "La lingua salvata", 1977, ed. Adelphi 1980, pp.84-85

[pascalkirchmair]

"Elias Canetti", various inks on paper, 18 x 24 cm 

エリアス・カネッティ

[publicatiosui]

An early letter to Max Brod sheds a very clear light on the genesis of this unusual aptitude. It comes from the year 1904, when Kafka was twenty-one years old; I call it the Mole Letter and quote from it as much as seems necessary for an understanding of Kafka's transformation into something small. [...] "While I was out on a walk my dog came upon a mole that was trying to cross the road. He kept leaping at him and wouldn't leave him alone, for he is a young dog, and timid. At first I was amused and liked especially the mole's excitement as he looked for a hole in the hard surface of the road, altogether desperately and ineffectually. But then suddenly, when the dog struck him once more with an outstretched paw, he shrieked Ks, kss, just like that. And then I thought—no, I did not think anything. I was simply in a state of delusion, because on that day my head was hanging so heavily that in the evening I noticed with amazement that my chin had grown into my chest."

The dog, let us note, the dog hunting the mole, was Kafka's dog; he was its master. For the mole who, scared to death, looks for a hole in the hard road, a hole in which to hide—he himself does not exist; the animal is afraid only of the dog, its senses are open only for the latter. But he, Kafka, so exalted above them, by his upright stance, his height, and his ownership of the dog, which could never threaten him, simply laughs at the desperate and ineffectual movements of the mole. The mole does not realize that it could turn to him for help; it has not learned to pray, and it is capable of nothing but its small screams. They are the only sounds that touch the god, for here he is the god, the supreme being, the zenith of power, and in this case God is even present. The mole screams Ks, kss, and the onlooker, hearing this scream, transforms himself into the mole. Without having to fear his dog, which is his slave, he feels what it is to be a mole.

-- Canetti, Kafka's Other Trial

[koalacoarts]

Canetti Soft Phone

[bocadosdefilosofia]

«Sólo inmerso en la masa puede el hombre redimirse de este temor al contacto. Se trata de la única situación en la que este temor se convierte en su contrario. Es esta densa masa la que se necesita para ello, cuando un cuerpo se estrecha contra otro cuerpo, densa también en su constitución anímica, es decir, cuando no se presta atención a quién es el que le «estrecha» a uno. Así, una vez que uno se ha abandonado a la masa no teme su contacto. En este caso ideal todos son iguales entre sí. Ninguna diferencia cuenta, ni siquiera la de los sexos. Quien quiera que sea el que se oprime contra uno, se le encuentra idéntico a uno mismo. Se le percibe de la misma manera en que uno se percibe a sí mismo. De pronto, todo acontece como dentro de un cuerpo. Acaso sea ésta una de las razones por las que la masa procura estrecharse tan densamente: quiere desembarazarse lo más perfectamente posible del temor al contacto de los individuos».

Elías Canetti: Masa y poder. Muchnik Editores, pág. 4. Barcelona, 1981

TGO

@bocadosdefilosofia

@dies-irae-1

[sammeldeineknochen]

Man näherte sich der Wahrheit, indem man sich von den Menschen abschloß. Der Alltag war ein oberflächliches Gewirr von Lügen.

Elias Canetti: “Die Blendung”, S.16

[libriaco]

Senso e sensibilità

Si sottovaluta la sensibilità di una persona con cui è possibile parlare in qualsiasi momento.

E. Canetti, [Aufzeichnungen für Marie-Louise, scritto nel 1942, pubblicato postumo nel 2005], Aforismi per Marie-Louise, Milano, Adelphi, 2015 [Trad. A. Vigliani]