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/lit/ - Literature

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12958755 No.12958755 [Reply] [Original]

Yo /lit/,
I recently read "a portrait of the artist as a young man". I really enjoyed it, and a lot of the themes it laid out really interest me. themes like "what is the artists role in society" and "what is beauty". What is your guy's take on art in society?

File: 197 KB, 758x1162, The Poem of the Cid.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] [report]
12958679 No.12958679 [Reply] [Original]

how does it compare to other epic poems apart of being partially real? I honestly though it was great.

>> No.12958701

Well, it's incomplete. The first few pages we're destroyed I think. So theres that.

>> No.12958710

*unsheathes longsword*
nothin personnel, Cid.

>> No.12958740

>he thinks he can beat a man blessed by god and saint lazarus with two magical swords and a magical horse
I doubt it

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12958650 No.12958650 [Reply] [Original]

The most influential debate of the decade will be happening today, who's going to win?

4 replies omitted. Click Reply to view.
>> No.12958676
File: 69 KB, 1600x900, Dr-Jordan-Peterson-Livestream-fail.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] [report]

Share it us if anyone finds an illegal stream

>> No.12958677

why's it happening on good friday?

>> No.12958708
File: 84 KB, 937x1170, sjad1TX.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] [report]

Can't imagine two bigger hacks than these two.

>> No.12958719

Why is zizek a hack?

>> No.12958730

Continental philosophy is a joke in general.

File: 1.83 MB, 1448x790, duke.png [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] [report]
12958647 No.12958647 [Reply] [Original]

"come this way" — some say with sweet eyes
opening their arms, and certain
that it would be good if I would listen
when they say: "come this way"!
I look at them with languidly,
(my eyes filled with irony and tiredness)
and I cross my arms,
and I never go that way...
this is my glory:
to create inhumanity!
to accompany no one.
— for I live with the same unwillingness
with which i tore my mother's womb
no, I won't go that way! I only go where
my own steps take me...
if to what I seek to know no one can answer
why do you repeat: "come this way"?

I rather crawl thru muddy alleys,
to whirl in the wind,
like rags, to drag my bleeding feet,
than to go that way...
if I came to this world, it was
only to deflower virgin forests,
and to draw my own footsteps in the unexplored sand!
all else I do is worth nothing.

how can you be the ones
that give me impulses, tools and courage
to overcome my own obstacles?
the blood of our ancestors runs thru your veins,
And you love what is easy!
I love the Far and the Mirage,
I loves the abysses, the torrents, the deserts...

go! you have roads,
you have gardens, you have flower-beds,
you have a nation, you have roofs,
and you have rules, and treaties, and philosophers, and wise men.
I have my Madness!
I hold it high like a torch burning in the dark night,
and I feel foam, and blood, and chants on my lips...
God and the Devil guide me, no one else!
everyone's had a father, everyone's had a mother;
but I, who never begin or end,
was born of the love between God and the Devil.

ah! don't give me sympathetic intentions!
don't asks me for definitions!
don't tells me: "come this way"!
my life is a whirlwind that broke loose,
it's a wave that rose.
it's one more atom that ignited...
I don’t know which way I’ll go,
I don't know where I'm going to,
- I know I'm not going that way!

Jose Regio

3 replies omitted. Click Reply to view.
>> No.12958685

quite like this one

The butterfly, a cabbage-white,
(His honest idiocy of flight)
Will never now, it is too late,
Master the art of flying straight,
Yet has – who knows so well as I? –
A just sense of how not to fly:
He lurches here and here by guess
And God and hope and hopelessness.
Even the aerobatic swift
Has not his flying-crooked gift.

Robert Graves

(that's about graves, not about the butterfly)

>> No.12958697

I am nothing
I shall never be anything
I cannot want to be anything.
Aside from that, I have within me all the dreams of the world.

Windows of my room,
The room of one of the world's millions nobody knows about
(And if they knew about me, what would they know?)
You open onto the mystery of a street continually crossed by people,
A street inaccessible to any thought,
Real, impossibly real, certain, unknowingly certain,
With the mystery of things beneath the stones and beings,
With death making the walls damp and the hair of men white,
With Destiny driving the wagon of everything down the road of nothing.

Today I am defeated, as if I knew the truth.
Today I am clear-minded, as if I were about to die
And had no greater kinship with things
Than to say goodbye, this building and this side of the street becoming
A row of train cars, departing at the sound of a whistle
Blowing from inside my head,
And a jolt to my nerves and a creak of bones as we go.

Today I am bewildered, as one who wondered and discovered and forgot.
Today I am torn between the loyalty I owe
To the outward reality of the Tobacco Shop across the street
And to the inward reality of my feeling that everything is but a dream.

I failed in everything.
Since I had no aims, maybe everything was indeed nothing.
What I was taught,
I climbed out of that, down from the window at the back of the house.
I went to the countryside with grand plans,
But all I found there was grass and trees,
And when there were people, they were just like the others.
I step back from the window and sit in a chair. What should I think about now?

What do I know of what I shall be, I who do not know what I am?
Be what I think I am? But I think of so many things!
And there are so many who think to be the same thing- there can’t be that many!
Genius? At this moment
A hundred thousand minds dream themselves geniuses like I do,
And history will not register, who knows? not even one,
Nor will it remain but manure from so many future conquests.

No, I do not believe in myself.
In every mental asylum there are mad deranged people with so many certainties!
I, who do not have any certainties, am more or less right?
No, not even in myself…
In how many garrets and non-garrets of the world
Are not there geniuses dreaming unto themselves?
How many aspirations high and noble and lucid-
- yes, truly high, noble and lucid-
And, who knows, maybe accomplishable,
Will never see the light of the real sun, nor be heard by human ears?

>> No.12958705

The world is for those born to conquer it
And not for those who dream they can conquer it, even though they may be right.
I have dreamt more than Napoleon accomplished;
I have clasped to my hypothetical breast more humanity than Christ;
I contrived philosophies in secret that no Kant ever wrote.
But I am, and maybe I shall always be, the one in the garret,
Even if I don’t live in one;
I shall always be the one who was not born for that;
I shall always be only the one who had (good) qualities;
I shall always be the one who waited for the door to be opened by a doorless wall,
And sang the song of the Infinite in a chicken-house,
And heard the voice of God inside a plugged well.

Believe in myself? No, not in anything.
May Nature pour over my ardent head
Its sun; its rain, the wind that finds my hair.
And the rest that may come if it comes, or if it has to come, or if it has not.
Cardiac slaves to the stars,
We conquer the world even before we rise from bed;
But we wake up and it is opaque,
We get up and it is alien,
We go out and it is the whole Earth,
Plus the Solar System and the Milky Way and the Indefinite.

(Eat chocolates, little girl;
Eat chocolates! Believe me, there is no metaphysics in the world other than chocolates;
Believe me, all the religions together do not teach more than the candy-shop.
Eat, dirty girl, eat!
I wish I could eat chocolates as earnestly as you!
But I think and, on peeling the silvery paper, which is made from tin foil,
I drop it all to the ground, as I have done with my life.)

But at least it remains from the sorrow of what I shall never be
The rapid calligraphy of these verses,
Collapsed portico to the Impossible.
But at least I confer upon myself a tearless contempt,
Noble at least in the grand gesture with which
I throw the dirty laundry that is me, in a washing-list, unto the course of things,
And stay home shirtless.

(You who comfort, who do not exist and therefore comfort,
Either Greek godess, conceived as a living statue,
Or else Roman patrician, impossibly noble and baneful,
Or princess sung by troubadours, most charming and colourful,
Or eighteenth century marquise, décolletée and distant,
Or celebrated courtesan from the time of our parents,
Or modern whatever- I don’t really know what-
All that, whatever you may be, inspire if you can!

My heart is a bucket that was emptied.
As those who invoke spirits, summon spirits I summon
Myself and find nothing.
I go to the window and see the street with absolute sharpness.
I see the shops, I see the street-walks, I see the passing cars,
I see the clothed living beings who cross each other,
I see the dogs which also exist,
And all this weighs on me as a sentence of exile,
And all this is foreign, as is everything.

>> No.12958711

I lived, studied, loved and even believed,
And today, there is no beggar I do not envy simply because he is not me.
I consider in each one the rags and the sores and the lie,
And I muse: maybe you never lived, or studied, or loved, or believed
(because it is possible to construct the reality of it all without actually doing any of that);
Maybe you merely existed, like a lizard to which the tail is cut off
And which is tail a-twisting this side of the lizard.

I made of myself what I did not know how,
And what I could have made of myself I failed to do.
The domino costume that I wore was all wrong
And I was immediately recognized as someone I was not and I did not deny it, and was lost.
When I tried to take off the mask,
It was stuck to my face.
When I took it off and looked myself in the mirror,
I had already grown old.
I was drunk, and I no longer knew how to put on the costume that I had not taken off.
I threw the mask away and slept in the dressing room
Like a dog tolerated by the management
Because it is harmless.
And I am going to write this story to prove that I am sublime.

Musical essence of my useless verses,
If only I could face you as something I had made
Instead of always facing the Tobacco Shop across the street,
Treading at my feet the consciousness of existing,
Like a rug a drunkard stumbles on
Or a doormat stolen by gypsies and not worth a thing.

But the Tobacco Shop owner has come to the door and is standing there.
I look at him with the discomfort of an half-turned head
Compounded by the discomfort of an half-grasping soul.
He shall die and I shall die.
He shall leave his signboard and I shall leave my poems.
His sign will also eventually die, and so will my poems.
Eventually the street where the sign was will die,
And so will the language in which the poems were written.
Then the whirling planet where all of this happened will die.
On other satellites of other systems some semblance of people
Will go on making things like poems and living under things like signs,
Always one thing facing the other,
Always one thing as useless as the other,
Always the impossible as stupid as reality,
Always the mystery of the bottom as true as the shadow of mystery of the top.
Always this thing or always some other, or neither one nor the other.

But a man has entered the Tobacco Shop (to buy tobacco?),
And plausible reality suddenly hits me.
I half rise to my feet -energetic, sure of myself, human-
And I will try to write these verses in which I say the opposite.
I light up a cigarette as I think about writing them,
And in that cigarette I savor a freedom from all thoughts.
I follow the smoke as if it were my own trail,
And enjoy, for a sensitive and adequate moment
The liberation from all speculation
And the awareness that metaphysics is a consequence of not feeling well.

>> No.12958718

Afterwards I lean back in the chair
And keep smoking.
As long as Destiny allows, I will keep smoking.
(If I married my washwoman's daughter
I might conceivably be happy.)
Given this, I rise and go to the window.
The man has come out of the Tobacco Shop (putting change into his pocket?).
Ah, I know him: he is Esteves without methaphysics.
(The Tobacco Shop owner has come to the door.)
As if by a divine instinct, Esteves turned around and saw me.
He waved hello, I shouted back "Hello there, Esteves!" and the universe
Reconstructed itself to me, without ideals or hope, and the owner of the Tobacco Shop smiled...

Fernando Pessoa

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12958637 No.12958637 [Reply] [Original]

>tonight is Peterson vs Zizek, Jung vs. Lacan, Kant vs. Hegel
>in the right corner, perpetuating traditionalist ethics through philistine reductionism, we have Jordan B. 'Yourself' Peterson
>and from the left and not, rambling incoherently and consistently evading critical inquiry, Slavoj 'the Homeless Meme-Man' Zizek.
>no thread up
What gives? Disregarding the commonly shared expectation that they just talk straight past each other, saying they disagree when they agree, one strawmanning the other, etc., and disregarding the doubt as to whether we'll be able to interpret Zizek's sniffles and whether Peterson can handle his meds -- what hopes/wishes do you have for this debate? Other than a stream
And what would you like to dicsuss/know beforehand? For example, can a kind anon provide me with material of/from Zizek with details on his view on contingent action/free will?
AND who will come out on top and sate his male desire to kill and win?

17 replies omitted. Click Reply to view.
>> No.12958739

>Debates Zizek
>not Dugin
Lmao yeah I bet

>> No.12958748

you mad bastard. Thanks anon.
Is Youtube going to get pissy with me if I watch it? Do I have to log off to be safe?

>> No.12958750
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I think Zizek speaks too cryptically for it to palatable to most people. Cryptic in the sense that the terminology he uses aren’t relatable to a layman. At least that’s how, as a layman, I see it.

I’m slowly reading through the Bronze Age, so it’s going to be a while.

>> No.12958761

Worst case scenario they hijack the stream and strike the dude's channel

>> No.12958775
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12958633 No.12958633 [Reply] [Original]

what are some good gaming books about gaming and gaming cultore
lets get some good gaming linterature going!

1 replies omitted. Click Reply to view.
>> No.12958683

oh wo w
sounds onions good but what about the super play station?

the bokks about the play station is much better

>> No.12958686
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Book version was horrible, they decided to make Dante this pudgy moron who enters Hell to escape animals from a forest. He doesn't even kill a single demon.

>> No.12958692

is it vacant in japanese?
doth it come with subtitles???

>> No.12958707

I don't know
I'm just going to make a game on the atari vcs

>> No.12958749

It was written in some weird kind of Spanish, which is lame

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12958613 No.12958613 [Reply] [Original]

>In February 1944, while Céline was having dinner in the German embassy in Paris with his friends Jacques Benoist-Méchin, Pierre Drieu La Rochelle and Gen Paul, he asserted to German ambassador Otto Abetz that Hitler was dead and had been replaced by a Jewish double.

How can one man be so based?

>> No.12958628

so what happened after that?

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12958602 No.12958602 [Reply] [Original]

Don't you want your debut novel to be a Pulitzer finalist?

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12958596 No.12958596 [Reply] [Original]

do you have an ulterior motive behind your reading habit?

I do it because knowledge will help me conquer a bigger part of this world for me and my own.

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12958590 No.12958590 [Reply] [Original]

I've read C&P, TBK, Idiot, Gambler and Notes. I'm getting Demons soon but why is there such a division on /lit/ about this book? I see people hating and others loving it. Can someone please explain why everyone is so mixed towards this

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12958579 No.12958579 [Reply] [Original]

How you read 3-5 books at the same time. I cant start new before finishing current one.

>> No.12958585

I'm just too bored so I start another to cure that while making small increments on the old ones.

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12958557 No.12958557 [Reply] [Original]

How come this book never gets brought up when discussing Dostoevsky's works? Does it just suck?

>> No.12958561

It's not part of our canon

>> No.12958743

seriously i did not even know the existence of this book before i stumbled on it on reddit.wtf lit?

>> No.12958747

>using *eddit
go back please

>> No.12958764

can't imagine how little you have going on in your life to derive pride from not visiting a forum

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12958542 No.12958542 [Reply] [Original]

looking for books with pic-related tumblr-comfy sci-fi aesthetic

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12958525 No.12958525 [Reply] [Original]

I just marathoned part 1 of this. Is all of Deleuze this fucking good?

>> No.12958558

i thought he spent too much space on ressentiment, to detriment of rest of nietzsche's philosophy.

>> No.12958583

If you like this snooze fest you love the deleuze rest

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12958498 No.12958498 [Reply] [Original]

How much words do you write in a day lit? Shitposts don't count.

>> No.12958502

Do Google queries count?

>> No.12958508

Only if you're a faggot.

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12958490 No.12958490 [Reply] [Original]

For me it was earlier this year. I'm really enjoying Lolita but although I've spent years not reading it's kinda slow since Lolita isn't a book you can speed read.

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12958481 No.12958481 [Reply] [Original]

>he doesn't read traditional chinese poetry.


>> No.12958507

tell me you don't read translated chinese poetry

>> No.12958520


>> No.12958668

Please don’t say “You are lazy”

>> No.12958723


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12958436 No.12958436 [Reply] [Original]

What are some good books about film analysis?

>> No.12958496

Check Francesco Casetti's "Teorie del cinema" and "How to Analyze A Film". Kracauer had "Film Theory" but it's kind dated, still an interesting read. Check Bazin's "What is Cinema" too, Metz's "Film Semiotics" and Deleuze's "Image-Time / Image-Movement". Also, most methodology is derived from narratology and semiotics, so you can check the basics of those. In the number 8 of Communications you have the basic names (Barthes, Todorov, Genette, Metz).

>> No.12958511

Quality post. Thank you

>> No.12958515

Happy to help

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12958434 No.12958434 [Reply] [Original]

What does /lit/ think of this book? I read the introduction and was instantly hooked.

3 replies omitted. Click Reply to view.
>> No.12958688

Great sort of character study, from almost nothing comes this relay interesting little book.
Im sold on Woolf after reading this and im gona check more of her stuff

>> No.12958691

Prepare for prose porn, mate.

>> No.12958694

/lit/, being like other the boards just /r9k/ + an interest, hates women and talks shit about female authors.
But the female authors usually discussed here are actually good.

>> No.12958735

haven't read this yet but the waves was as lit as it gets.

>> No.12958771

This is excellent. The Waves is the top level of Woolf, but this is a good and more conventional starter.

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12958425 No.12958425 [Reply] [Original]

What youtubers do you watch lit ?

8 replies omitted. Click Reply to view.
>> No.12958539

Yeah he is consistently good at criticize, I don't see why /lit/ call him pleb

>> No.12958550

I read books. This is a literature board.

>> No.12958553


>> No.12958562

wow you're so special

>> No.12958625

He tries too hard and is a leftist.
He used to be the kind of guy who wrote stuff like "This but unuironically" and call people in comments "reddit".
Not to mention how self conscious he is.

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