/lit/ - Literature

[Anonymous No.18090535]

Why is this guy so unknown here? I finished Bréviaire du chaos (I read it in spanish, my native tongue, I've seen some english fragments of his work but don't know if there are official english translations) and it was cathartic and suffocating. He takes nihilism to its final logical conclusions regarding our social order. As he puts it we are trapped in the maze without exit. The proliferation and growing complexity of civilization is a total nonsense when compared with the lack of transcendental cause in the universe. In fact, this endless striving arises from a foolish spirit of sacrifice that is praised by social norms and is nothing more than a cult of death. We relentlessly march towards death as we are squeezed and used by the social order. He then says that total extermination is necessary if we want to revoke such a order, and these extreme ideas mixed with traits of racism and supremacism would label him as "the angry incel" but surprisingly he advocates for femenine principle to take the reins of humanity, being the male principle the cause of history and its excesses. Once femenine principle reigns again there would be no need of sacrifice and striving and we would be content with contemplation and base pleasures as it was supposed to be.

He was a secluded and lonely person and wrote all of this while his parents, his only companionship, grew old and died. So, even if one doesn't agree with his thought, he still is an amazing author to read from a purely psychological point of view, he's the Dostoevsky underground man. While his own world was falling apart and he was left with nothing but the walls of his room he predicated total eradication of the present order. Shortly after his father died he killed himself.

[Anonymous No.18090785]

who's this rare Tony Soprano?

[Anonymous No.18090826]

>>18090535
Ayy tone, you’re saying they were wooden doors?

[Anonymous No.18091005]

>>18090535
I can't believe somebody saved that mess I wrote a few months ago.

[Anonymous No.18091435]

>>18090535
My quibble with Caraco is that he is self-refuting. He's an intellectual oddity, something rather interesting but ultimately a poor man's Stirner. But one can barely enact Stirner's philosophy, let alone Caraco's, in real life. And he wouldn't have been so resentful had he unironically had sex. One could even argue that his feminine principle is a form of emasculation. And yet, history, which he so wished to destroy, might affirm his philosophy. The ecological collapse (which Caraco couldn't have imagined in the actual scale that is happening today) will lead to his vision of extintion. Except that his vision of a new reign will not come about.

Certainly not a man of action, except in his last moment, his apotheosis. His style is insufferable.

[Anonymous No.18091471]

>>18090535
Umm... Dostoevsk's 'underground man' is a comical fool.

[Anonymous No.18091933]

>>18090535
Carmela could you please shut the DOOOOR

[Anonymous No.18091942]

>>18091435
>his vision of a new reign will not come about.
What was that?

[Anonymous No.18091951]

>>18090535
Idk who he is but hes hot... i really want a bf

[Anonymous No.18091987]

>>18091471
Um, no. He is the divine paradigm.

[Anonymous No.18092134]

>>18090535
>wah wah why this meme-potential individual is not a meme on /lit/?!?1?
There are so many like him, you shouldn't be surprised. The reason is simple: 90% of the board speaks English.

[Anonymous No.18092253]

>>18090535
This guy blew his chance to be the host of the next golden globes

[Anonymous No.18092287]

>>18090535
Don't worry bro I have been shilling him as a part of pessimism canon from one year.

[Anonymous No.18092645]

>>18092287
Pushing pessimism to other people is incredibly stupid. Who's the central guy and bottom right?

[Anonymous No.18092656]

We don't read Mexicans round here

[Anonymous No.18093647]

>>18090535
>don't know if there are official english translations
there's your answer

[Anonymous No.18094387]

>>18091435
>His style is insufferable

What I like the most of him is his style. Yes, as you said his thoughts are interesting but not that innovating. For me, the most remarkable aspect of his work is his style, in his style he conveys how alone he was and how dismal the world and the future looked to him once his parents died. When you have nothing, when you haven't built any relevant connection to the world except your parents, well, their death will be the end for you. I know I'm projecting here but I can relate to that feeling that his apocalyptic style conveys. If you can read Spanish this will be interesting:

https://lamaquinadesumarceros.blogspot.com/2019/02/albert-caraco-la-muerte-en-letra-viva.html

[Anonymous No.18094534]

>>18090535
i love the sopranos

[Anonymous No.18094548]

Everything that happens to us was predicted long ago, and those to whom Tradition isn't foreign know that this world is damned, but they do not find ears that will listen.

The heart of man has not changed, the heart of man is similar to the profound and tenebrous sea: the changes only take place on the surface, where our sensibility reflects the light, but when we plunge into it, we find that which was and shall be: philosophy cannot penetrate it at all, and only theology holds the keys to the abyss.

Our theology was the supreme aberration, and we redeem its crimes and faults: it regurgitated nature and nature took revenge. We are antiphysicians, and our so-called revealed religions only managed to build the tomb of the species. The madness of the cross is now the madness of man, the lust for sacrifice is the last in the measure of our works, the taste for death shall be the consummation of our ideas.

In Chaos, where we have plunged ourselves, the order of death is more logical than in Order, in which we validate ourselves for so many centuries, and which undoes itself under our automatic steps.

[Anonymous No.18094570]

>>18090535
looks like a miserable prick.

[Anonymous No.18094580]

>>18090535
kinna looks like edward norton.

[Anonymous No.18094690]

>>18091987
Ah, you spell your Twitter name in all caps with faux Roman lettering. Got it.

[Anonymous No.18094725]

We shan't agree on anything, because we shall lack everything; we shan't avoid neither Hunger nor Racism, and we shall only be able to be free from one by giving in to the other. One day we shall become Racists just to eat; we shall be men of need in the worst sense of the word, we shall be Materialists and Racists.

Both principles shall be one, just as in our days Nationalism and Socialism became one. For now men have become the playthings of ideas, they have become stupid. They believe they are free to choose, but that which they choose has been preordained for them. The nations are now merely the toys of their ideas and the objects of their means. They will never seem more slavelike than now; never more possessed nor more alienated, and the profound cynics who lead them are no less stupid than their ruminating subjects.

Nothing can be seen clearly, because there are no more clear and distinct ideas. We shall go into catastrophe and all paths lead to it. Today we are overburdened with paradoxes, we seek simplicity, and we shall only find it in death, and that is why in the future death will cause no repulsion.

[Anonymous No.18094775]

And that is why we shall defend Order, which we abominate, and morality, which we despise, the senile Order and the inadmissible morality, which we haven't always known how to oust, neither one nor the other, we shall defend them, alas! with arms at hand.

Those ahead are preparing to attack us, in the name of indefensible morality, under the standards of condemned order. I ask all of you: what shall we oppose to these Barbarians? Tolerance and leniency? They shall crush us as they laugh at us. And if we march toward their armies, ornate with flowers and naked hands, preaching peace, they shall do as the Mongols in the Middle Ages, when thirty unarmed Buddhist male pilgrims offered themselves to their violence, with hopes of moving their hearts. They exterminated all of them, after a moment's surprise.

And when they tell me that the Mongols have become Buddhists, I shall answer that the pilgrims are dead. Since we must die, let us not offer our throats and die as dupes to our sentiments, let us prove to our adversaries that we are their equals in our courage, and let us do unto them as they would do unto us, vanquished.

[Anonymous No.18095258]

Our teachers are clowns or sophists, exorcists or hypnotists, they seek to gain time over chaos and death, but they cannot avoid the irreparable and we shall go straight to catastrophe.

The most murderous ideas await us we pass and we are not even able to elude them, when necessities grab us by the throat. And in order to change into wildcats we approach the fatal border, and as soon as we are confronted we shall abdicate all our humanitarian illusions and push our adversaries into the chasm.

Extermination shall become the common denominator of politics to come and nature shall join in, adding its furors to ours. The end of the century shall see the Triumph of death, the world overburdened with men shall discharge the surplus deadweight of living things. Not an island shall subsist where the powerful could strip into the consensual hell which they prepare for us, and the spectacle of their agony shall be the consolation of the peoples they have led astray. The future order shall be the sole heir of our failures, and the prophets, amidst our ruins, shall gather together the survivors.

[Anonymous No.18095397]

We enter the night, where everything comes apart, and we can no longer look back, to where the lights are about to be extinguished. We are alone with our ideas and our works, at the mercy of their mutual extravagance.

Nevertheless, we must walk on, and stopping is not an option, we have lost the path, and when we slack off, it is the path that carries us along. In truth, we are justly punished for not having reconsidered the world. The world eludes us when we humanise it, and it eludes us because we do not conceive ourselves, and we no longer conceive from fear of profaning that which we still revere.

If profanation had saved us, intellectual courage would have hindered fatality, becoming our quintessence: the Anarchists and the Nihilists want a tabula rasa and the future shall prove them right. But the Order crushes and shall crush them. As long as it subsists, the Order which protects us shall protect us from subversion, but not from chaos and death, against which it commands us to march, in squad formation, one against the other, at a charge of attack into the night that we shall soon bathe in blood.

[Anonymous No.18095447]

>>18094387
Ciertamente lo puedo leer en español, lo conocía desde antes y he ojeado el Breviario en PDF, además de algunos artículos que he encontrado sobre él en internet. The thing is, though, he didn't write about his parents' death until Post-Mortem, his last book. Breviario del caos is before that. I appreciate his consistency between thought and life, but that's not entirely necessary for a philosopher, certainly not for a writer. I think the superficial effect of his thought is not that impactful after the wave of what we may call "incel manifestos" on the internet. Of course, Caraco stands out as he is more systematic, more thorough and uncompromising. But just as there is evil, even absolute evil, in the world, so it is true that there is good and even absolute good. I do not fin him appealing precisely because he is partial, myopic. I think I agree with you on his style, but I still find it not to my liking. In the end, I believe it might be because he is telling a truth that I refuse to admit. Deep down, I believe he is right; but also deep down, I strongly believe he is wrong. As I said, interesting writer, someone to wrestle with in a battle of wills; reading him and coming out alive might be the test of a man's worth.

>>18091942
Read the OP
>he advocates for femenine principle to take the reins of humanity, being the male principle the cause of history and its excesses. Once femenine principle reigns again there would be no need of sacrifice and striving and we would be content with contemplation and base pleasures as it was supposed to be.

[Anonymous No.18095767]

The young can no longer save the world, the world can no longer be saved. The idea of salvation is nothing but a false idea, and we shall pay for our countless errors. It is too late to redeem anything. The time of redemptions is expired and the time of reformations is over.

The most fortunate men shall die fighting, and the most miserable, crammed in the bottom of basements or coupling in ardour, as to deceive agony, aided by the orgasm. The world shall be nothing but a howl of pain and ecstasy, and the purest among men shall only be able to avoid self-contempt by resorting to weariness. The choice of agony will be the only choice left, and this will be sooner than we expect.

From day to day, we shall be kicked down the cliff and there we shall be roused, at least in time to feel our extinction. And thus we shall see what the Conquerors of the New World saw, when whole tribes cast themselves from the tops of their mountains at their approach, only to prevent the inevitable horror, deceiving death with death itself.

[Anonymous No.18095820]

Blessed are the dead! And thrice cursed are those who, taken by madness, breed! Blessed the chaste! Blessed the sterile! Blessed even those who prefer lust instead of fertility!

For now, the Onanists and the Sodomites are less guilty than fathers and mothers. While the former only destroy themselves, the latter destroy the world, by multiplying useless mouths. Shame on the learned and the spiritual, who force us to venerate them and teach us to lose reason! We should be less miserable and less ridiculous, if it weren't for these preachers of smoke and mirrors, these saviours of trumpery. They aren't good for nothing, having served only to deceive us about ourselves, about them and our reality.

Society punishes counterfeiters and yet spares those who live only by crediting false ideas? Tolerance is a fraud, and respect is but a delirium, we are paid to hear it and we shall pay for it. When the only thing left is to be melted in the furnace, we shall dispatch our leaders to death, smoothing over the paths that were denied to us, and there shall be consummation.

[Anonymous No.18095927]

>>18095447
>The thing is, though, he didn't write about his parents' death until Post-Mortem, his last book. Breviario del caos is before that.

Indeed, but reading his biography one can see that he was the member of a jew errant family, he never belonged to anything. The nature of his family fucked up and thwarted him. His relationship with his mother was even worse, almost oedipal. I can't find the correct words, it feels like he was overwhelmed by the world, in a state of cosmic loneliness, suffocated. Perhaps we are all in the same state but we deceived ourselves with all the movement, warm and bustle of civilization and these guys are the only ones that can put it into words, perhaps he was just a resentful dude blaming the world for his failures, perhaps both things are true to some extent.

[Anonymous No.18095958]

>>18091435
>And he wouldn't have been so resentful had he unironically had sex
He did have an encounter with a street whore whom he "paid to overpower". He said he hated it. I think he also burned and sliced his penis.
Caraco is really disturbing and intriguing; correct me if I'm wrong, but he hasn't been translated to English, right?

[Anonymous No.18096158]

>>18095927
You're right, it's as if his condition as a Jew (I hate how that sounds, but you get what I mean) had conditioned his life to eternal errancy and displacement, to be "without roots", as Simone Weil would have said it. It's kinda ironic how many great writers, like George Steiner and Nicolás Gómez Dávila, found themselves at home in many languages and in European culture, but Caraco, despite being a polyglot and being learned, could only find himself nowhere. I don't think even therapy could have helped him, he was too lucid and self-aware for that. Still, I disagree that we are "deceiving" ourselves and that the truth behind it all is pure, virulent nihilism. That's why I said that Caraco's vision is myopic, because who is to say that we are deceiving ourselves? Who is to judge? If reality is pure insanity and evil, how to account for the moments, even the prolonged moments, of bliss and real happiness we experience? That's why I've never trusted either pessimism or optimism as rules, only as tools, because they cannot account for the whole of human existence and experience. Caraco saw it in a cosmic way, as you say, but whenever one tries to look at things in too grand or too small a scale, one's view cannot be but partial (missing the forest for the tree, the tree for the forest, etc). Caraco was indeed suffocating, but what's impressive about him was his uncompromising attitude towards his lack of air. Su intransigencia, si quieres decirlo así.

>>18095958
>He did have an encounter with a street whore whom he "paid to overpower". He said he hated it. I think he also burned and sliced his penis.
He was really up there in the wackiness scale, wasn't he? Reminds me of Jorge Cuesta, a Mexican poet and essayist who suffered a psychotic episode and castrated himself; he later hanged himself while in a sanatorium. He is very different from Caraco, both philosophically and stylistically, but his poetic works also tend to that sort of extreme where the human becomes inhuman (he was a trained chemist, and his scientific background informs his style).

>he hasn't been translated to English, right?
I don't think so. I think he wrote something in English though? He spoke many languages but wrote mostly in French, but I had the impression there were some scattered writings in other languages. If you want to read him, you gotta learn French or have some Spanish (although both his books in that language are out of print and difficult to find, he being a cult writer and such).

[Anonymous No.18096461]

>>18094548
>>18094725
>>18094775
>>18095258
>>18095397
>>18095767
>>18095820
He reminds me of Cioran. They would have enjoyed each others company. But Cioran had a very aristocratic style. He he never offered such type of fanaticism, although he flirted with it from time to time.