Mme de Tracy used to say to me: ‘One cannot attain to truth except in a novel.’
Every day I see more clearly that, in all other contexts, it is a pretence.
Stendhal wrote for who he called “the happy few” – his ideal imagined reader was someone by the name of Mme Roland. I’m going to start calling women “Madame”, they like that, right? Maybe I would call a classy lady that, if one existed, who knows. I’m ready to do away with any and all language from this Age of the Plebs. It would probably help us mentally escape the status quo if we used certain foreign words in place of heavily “American” ones. There’s a subtle secular and thus profane connotation to many of our words which don’t do justice to the potential nobility of a person. I like to believe that some people aren’t materialistic animals at least. The mockery of the monument is an attitude and without it you are spiritually on a leash. You can only fly as high as the chain on your ankle allows. They want everyone to be a “pleb” because that’s “fairness” to them.
I just want to get away from this era, this “wake cycle of history”. I initially looked for a sustained work on 17th century French theatre, which I couldn’t find, and “wow, just wow” and found a work on Stendhal instead
even the vilest scoundrels are vain and possess a sense of honour after their own fashion
6 years old when the Révolution began (is that why he survived?), praised by neech- is this where he got the pathos of distance?
He used between 170 and 350 pseudonyms. Have to speculate that rare types experience more states of the soul than others. Baron Frédéric de Stendhal was his favorite self he settled on I guess. In my modest experience it’s not only a matter of holding external selves in contempt, it’s seeing the papier-mâché in one’s own self also. For instance the “sense of honour” mentioned above- that is arguably not a noble pursuit, strictly speaking. “You want to be honored as someone who thinks that.” Nope, I don’t think in those terms. I used to, then I recognized that my own self who seeks that is contemptible. This is tied in with the risk of seriousness and religiosity – Kierkegaard talks about this as the different stages of life’s way. I only write for Stendhals and Mme Rolands. And hopefully they have contempt for me from time to time, in a non-cathedral way of course.
Hmm I wonder which one is preferred and which one doesn’t exist
Stendhal invests his two most developed ‘angelic’, as opposed to ‘Amazonian’ female characters
You like people say “ya’ll” and I go in the opposite direction with these French? What do we want to be as a culture, you ever wonder that? Farmers and savages, sounds great. These kikes really know what they’re doing. Too busy crying about an old war that they deserved to think clearly about anything. sigh I’m just the puppet of the “happy few” who want to have outbursts like this themselves. The voice of hidden contempt. That’s what I like to think anyway, I like to think that some have that. Just want to shake them by the shoulders in amazement, “You survived somehow!?” The types of species we prioritize preserving is baffling. These ones I speak of seem like they’re rapidly going extinct. It’s the closest thing to divine judgment that we have immanently as humans. Don’t be fooled when they try act virtuously about wanting these types not to exist.