Hopscotch - pg. 377

71

MORELLIANA

Basically, what is the this story about finding a millenary kingdom, an Eden, another world? Everything written these days and worth reading is oriented towards nostalgia. An Arcadia complex, the return to the great uterus, back to Adam, le bon sauvage (and so it goes ...), Paradise lost, lost because I searched for you in my eternal darkness ... And so much for islands (cf. Musil) or gurus (if you have the cash for the Paris-Bombay flight) or simply picking up a coffee cup and looking at it all over, not like a coffee cup any more but like evidence of the immense asininity in which we all find ourselves, believing thhat this object is nothing but a coffee cup while even the most idiot among journalists is assigned to give us a precis of the quanta, Planck and  Heisenberg, knocks himself out in three columns eplaining that everything vibrates and trembles and is like a cat about to take an enormous hydrogen or cobalt leap which will leave us all with our feet sticking up in the air. An uncouth way of expressing one's  self,  really.