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C'EST GLAUQUE, MAIS J'EMMERDE LE MONDE.

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# Postato martedì 29 luglio 2008 15:12

Modificato martedì 23 giugno 2009 13:03

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Polar Opposites

“It is good to be solitary, for solitude is difficult; that something is difficult must be a reason the more for us to do it.”

Rainer Maria Rilke

Disasters can happen at any scale. A drop thundering towards the Earth is capable of destroying an anthill as well as a hurricane can annihilate a state. A girl could be crying because her family is shattering apart, or because she got accepted into her first-choice college. People cannot look at a situation and know what's going on. They do not have the right to judge, deliberate and condemn.

Everything except science is subjective. That means that no one is right; therefore no one is wrong. All of this to say, people find their inspiration in diverse places. No one can truly say: this is the way to write poems, this is the only means with which you will be able to achieve a good story, this is the absolute truth you must know to complete a painting. A quote from Rainer Maria Rilke declared that the only way to write something is to have lived it and taken risks for it.

“Surely all art is the result of one's having been in danger, of having gone through an experience all the way to the end, where no one can go any further.”

If that were true, then “The Red Wheelbarrow” written by William Carlos Williams could not be deemed as “art.” I doubt the poet ever risked his life for a wheelbarrow.

Of course, people wonder from where inspiration comes. If it can come from looking at a mundane object, then everyone should be capable of writing poetry and become famous for it. There is one thing, though, that seems to be evading people. Subtle, it is the one thing necessary to discover oneself, the one absolute in the subjective: solitude. It should not be confused with loneliness, the two being complete contradictions. Solitude is being alone; loneliness is being ostracized. Solitude is a way for people to sort out thoughts, daydream and listen to the music of silence surrounding them in peace; loneliness is feeling uncomfortable in the presence of absence, feeling at unease with oneself, and being unable to think amidst the thrashing thoughts bouncing on the walls. Then again, being in the state of solitude differs from person to person: it is impossible to obtain the recipe for solitude. So we may ask ourselves: what must I do to be able to feel real solitude? There are no answers, because if I would start trying to define it, if anyone would attempt analyzing and figuring out the definition, then we would limit it: by saying what it is we would be saying what it could not be.

I briefly started on the source of inspiration. Everyone has a different way of dealing with this rush of ideas. Some need to feel sadness: something strong that would need to be purged and cleaned out of the soul. Others would need to be in a state of pure ecstasy, while few could only find inspiration while eating or playing the piano or going to the museum. The means to which one could find inspiration are various and, obviously, subjective. They also may change over the course of events in one's life. The one thing that is primordial and absolutely essential for an artist is to find those means. It can come in different forms each time, but one this is sure: being able to think by oneself and provide sufficient company to oneself, solitude, is necessary.

“Solitude is not measured by the miles of space that inter-vene between a man and his fellows. The really diligent stu-dent in one of the crowded hives of Cambridge College is as solitary as a dervish in the desert.”

As Henry David Thoreau points out in his fifth chapter of “Walden”, it is best to live solitary than rubbing against the shoulders of humanity. According to Thoreau, to be solitary is to be “besides oneself” and stand aloof of our actions and consequences, admiring the world from up top. I cannot disagree; there is a sense of detaching ourselves from reality when being in the state of solitude. He offers a fine definition of solitude, however I am still not satisfied. Should we imitate him and get lost in some woods to achieve solitude? Contemplate droplets of water get lost in a rainstorm? Observe bullfrogs and butterflies continue on their lives?

Gabriel García Márquez who wrote “A Hundred Years of Solitude” points out the benefits of immersing one's mind in complete solitude but also the dark side of detaching oneself too much from society. However, the author makes no distinction between loneliness and solitude. He presents the reader with this explanation: in Spanish, “soledad” means much more than just solitude. It also means loneliness and the voluntary detachment of one's life from the company of other people. This contrasts with other characters of the book that make extraordinary effort to reach out to others and fight solitude, considered malicious and negative. Márquez also indicates that everyone is solitary in their own way: some events and thoughts cannot be shared with others. There is also in this novel the notion of punishment. The last Aureliano is condemned to loneliness for having raped a women and ignored his children, felt indifferent and sexually cruel. Not only is the whole notion of being alone simplified to not two distinct words but a world of its own, but on the same time it has been rendered complex with the notion of punishment and guilt and nostalgia.

Solitude and loneliness have also been analyzed scientifically. A recent study has suggested that a gene may be linked to loneliness and the tendency to feel lonely. There has also been a theory developed proposing that each individual have a different level of loneliness. Some may rise above it or stay down low depending on the environmental and genetic conditions. This may be a way to prevail against the subjective, but what will happen to inspiration? Will that too be nailed down to algorithms and chromosome nature? Will poetry be given a meter according to the letter count and fundamental mathematics' foundation? This theory could push people to believe they are doomed to being lonely. But let's not forget that this is about loneliness, which leads me to believe that solitude and loneliness are two terms that can interconnect while still staying polar opposites. Everything depends on the point of view.

Everyone has experienced solitude, or loneliness, or both. In some cases it is destructive like in the first story, in others it's a way of filling up the gaping hole in your chest like in the second one. For some, the purpose of being alone in their thoughts is to escape from the scream of their triplets that continuously deafen out the real world. For a handful, being able to straighten out ideas is to reassert one's control over one's life and make sure that one is still steering it for the right reasons.

There are legions of reasons to yearn solitude, there are endless ways to achieve it, there are countless eyes looking out for the truth and for inspiration, looking out for absolutes and still defending the subjective: it is the people that surround us who demand something simple and objective, yet it is the same people that are the first to be on the look-out for creating rumors, creating subjective opinions, being human. That is why it is for science to be devoid of emotions and define the absolute, and it is for the human to take what's his and make it as complex as possible to achieve it, or even define it. It is extraordinary, the power of designing some flowing ideas. The human is capable of fabricating some great notions such as love, hate, solitude, inspiration, poetry and war, and however complicated it can make them, it will always be able, one way or the other, to find the means to achieve them.

Clémence W.

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# Postato domenica 13 luglio 2008 05:16

Modificato martedì 23 giugno 2009 13:09

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# Postato martedì 10 giugno 2008 10:52

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# Postato giovedì 05 giugno 2008 21:30

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Paraitrais que j'ai une chevelure digne de Goku.

le mec chelou de DragonBall...

Hier, je me suis fait mordre par un moustique.
sauf qu'il etait gros, il arrivait pas a voler, et il faisait des bruits de poules.
donc j'en ai deduit que c'etait un coq enragé déguisé..