Such wonderful feelings I had last night at around three. I was sitting in the living room, Bach Cello Sweets (taste the sad) unfolding in the background, with a small cup of espresso in my belly. I was reading Essai sur les données immédiates de la conscience, and it was going smoothly.I thought back to Sartre, sitting somewhere in Paris, 82 years ago. His eyes passing over the very same forms that were before me on the page.
I thought, along the lines of Beauvoir's attempt to become a coat by concentrating on it hard enough: 'if you immerse yourself completely in the sentences, dogmat, if you allow the words to fill your consciousness, you could be Sartre!'
No comments:
Post a Comment