verbava все записи автора Louis Aragon – A Wave of Dreams

I am no longer the bicycle of my senses, a grindstone honing memories and encounters.

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And then I grasp chance within me, I grasp all of a sudden how I surpass myself: I am chance, and having formed this proposition I laugh at the thought of all human activity. This would certainly be a glorious moment to die, this certainly is the moment when the ones who simply leave one day with a clear gaze do kill themselves.

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Yet sometimes such a visitor, influenced by fashion, would lay claim to Idealism himself. Then it would become apparent that what I had before me was yet another shame-faced realist, like so many well-meaning men these days... By abandoning the commonplace notion of reality for the concept of reality within they believe they have made a great leap forward - but their idol, the Noumenon, has been exposed as a very mediocre piece of plaster. Nothing can make people like this understand the true nature of reality, that it is just an experience like any other, that the essence of things is not at all linked to their reality, that there are other experiences that the mind can embrace which are equally fundamental such as chance, illusion, the fantastic, dreams. These different types of experience are brought together and reconciled in one genre, Surreality.

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Absolute nominalism was dazzlingly exemplified in surrealism and it gradually dawned on us that the mental substance described above was, in fact, vocabulary itself. There is no thought outside words: the whole surrealist experience evidences this proposition.

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Surreality, the state where these concepts are fused by the mind, is the shared horizon of religion, magic, poetry, dreaming, madness, intoxication and this fluttering honeysuckle, puny little life, that you believe capable of colonizing the heavens for us.

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The era of collective hallucinations is born together with this question: are they really, after all, hallucinations?

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And so the spirit of criticism reclaims its rights. People question whether or not they were really in a trance at all. Deep down some deny the whole adventure. The idea of simulation is tossed back into play. Personally I could never really get to grips with this suggestion. Is simulating something any different to thinking it? And once something has been thought, it exists. Nothing will change my mind on that.

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Freedom, that wonderful word, at last has a meaning: Liberty begins where the marvellous is born.

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