Monthly Archives: June 2009

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Errors and last words

Reading more Steiner  is both exciting and irritating.  He is perfect and pure “old school” and I finally thought to myself, Yea, why didn’t God get rid of one of the weaker commandments (thou shalt not not) and have the 10th be Thou shalt not demonstrate your own brilliance until After you have demonstrated your own blindnesses before imposing power of any sort over another, including views and opinions and interpretations.  Steiner is the “best” of high humanistic education of two generations ago—-or presents himself that way.  But maybe he was just the best A-grabber, too.  

Maybe at least it should be a law for all memoirists and autobiographers—you may not publish your book unless you have a chapter called “My Blindspots” that has been edited by someone outside all your major spheres of influence.  I guess that would take all the fun out of reading memoirs.  

Finally though I gave up on Steiner—the way I think I have every time I have looked into one of his books.  Insufferable pedant is I guess the short phrase.  His memoir is entitled “Errata” and his stance toward his readers is precisely that—”you did not get my points earlier so let me try once again you dummkopf to correct your errors.”   Yes he is brilliant, polymath, cultured, worldly blah blah blah—but if this is the best that a life in literature has to offer then no wonder the study of literature is as in sharp decline—-as all other studies.  

He was smart and wise enough to reject Theory & he mastered the old style philology & now he makes endless discernments and judgments.  Maybe he should have been a canon lawyer or a corporate defense lawyer.  

Once again I find that it is the voice–the voices—of the “truth-tellers,” the historians and memoirists and auto-biographers that I have little patience with after I’ve satisfied a curiosity here or there about this or that point of needless trivia or gossip.  For real pleasure and truth, give me the lying sons of bitches who write fiction every time.  

Historian John Lukacs, also in his 80s, calls his recent memoir Last Rites.  Maybe that is just as magisterial, just as bad.  

Kehlmann’s Punch Line — Perspective suggested

Spoiler alert—-if you plan to read the novel Measuring the World what I say from here on might interfere with your pleasure in the book.

Daniel Kehlmann is a young German author who has made a splash in Europe.  Today—two-thirds of the way into Measuring I found out one reason.  This book retells the achievements of two great German scientists of the early 19th Century—Gauss, the mathematician, and Humboldt.  Ok, great, the early heros of the nation.  

Key scene with Humboldt is when he is in Mexico after having been the first man to climb the tallest peak in South America.  He can’t believe the scale of the city.  He sees the huge carved stone wheel and realizes it is a calendar.  He meets the grandson of Moctezuma and hears about the conquest and especially about the twenty thousand or more killed by the Aztec priests to dedicate the huge temple that Cortes had destroyed. Under the last high priest, the viceroy explains, the kingdom has become addicted to blood.   Humboldt is incredulous at the claim.  

My good man, said Humboldt, don’t talk nonsense!

         Twenty thousand in one place, in one day, was unthinkable.  The victims would never tolerate it.  The audience wouldn’t tolerate it.  What was more, the world-order would not support it.  If such a thing ever happened, the universe would come to an end.

          The universe, said the worker, doesn’t give a shit.  

A bit later Humboldt goes out to see the ruins of Teotihuacán.  Again he is dumbfounded by the scale and using his scientific instruments figures out how the city was planned in relation to the stars as a calendar. He was the first person in a thousand years who could read the city plan correctly.    Bonpland, his companion and assistant in these travels asks him why he seems so depressed.

So much civilization and so much horror, said Humboldt.  What a combination!  The exact opposite of everything that Germany stood for.      (177)

 

 

 

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Antipoonsidal

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Four Boxes

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White

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