Umberto Eco Storia della bruttezza (2007) |
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: Umberto Eco |
Roland Barthes Fragments dun discours amoureux (1977) |
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: Roland Barthes |
Umberto Eco Confessions of a Young Novelist (2011) |
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: Umberto Eco |
Terry Pratchett The Unadulterated Cat (1989) |
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: Terry Pratchett |
Julian Barnes Nothing to Be Frightened Of (2008) |
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: Julian Barnes |
Philip Zimbardo The Lucifer Effect: Understanding How Good People Turn Evil (2007) |
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: Philip Zimbardo |
Albert Camus LEnvers et lEndroit (1937) |
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: Albert Camus |
Philip K. Dick How to Build a Universe That Doesn't Fall Apart Two Days Later (1978) |
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I can't claim to be an authority on anything, but I can honestly say that certain matters absolutely fascinate me, and that I write about them all the time. The two basic topics which fascinate me are "What is reality?" and "What constitutes the authentic human being?"
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Reality is that which, when you stop believing in it, doesn't go away.
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I have a secret love of chaos. There should be more of it. Do not believeand I am dead serious when I say thisdo not assume that order and stability are always good, in a society or in a universe. The old, the ossified, must always give way to new life and the birth of new things. Before the new things can be born the old must perish. This is a dangerous realization, because it tells us that we must eventually part with much of what is familiar to us. And that hurts. But that is part of the script of life. Unless we can psychologically accommodate change, we ourselves begin to die, inwardly. What I am saying is that objects, customs, habits, and ways of life must perish so that the authentic human being can live. And it is the authentic human being who matters most, the viable, elastic organism which can bounce back, absorb, and deal with the new.
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In my writing I got so interested in fakes that I finally came up with the concept of fake fakes. For example, in Disneyland there are fake birds worked by electric motors which emit caws and shrieks as you pass by them. Suppose some night all of us sneaked into the park with real birds and substituted them for the artificial ones. Imagine the horror the Disneyland officials would feel when they discovered the cruel hoax. Real birds! And perhaps someday even real hippos and lions. Consternation. The park being cunningly transmuted from the unreal to the real, by sinister forces. For instance, suppose the Matterhorn turned into a genuine snow-covered mountain? What if the entire place, by a miracle of God's power and wisdom, was changed, in a moment, in the blink of an eye, into something incorruptible? They would have to close down.
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The pre-Socratic Greek philosopher Parmenides taught that the only things that are real are things which never change... and the pre-Socratic Greek philosopher Heraclitus taught that everything changes. If you superimpose their two views, you get this result: Nothing is real.
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: Philip K. Dick |
Zygmunt Bauman City of Fears, City of Hopes (2003) |
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: Zygmunt Bauman |
Bruno Bettelheim Remarks on the Psychological Appeal of Totalitarianism (1952) |
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: Bruno Bettelheim |
Eric Hoffer The True Believer: Thoughts on the Nature Of Mass Movements (1951) |
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: Eric Hoffer |
Thomas De Quincey On Murder Considered as one of the Fine Arts (1827) |
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: thomas de quincey |
Frédéric Beigbeder Dernier inventaire avant liquidation (2001) |
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: Frédéric Beigbeder |
Thomas M. Disch On SF (2005) |
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In the quintessentially sophisticated world of Proust's novels there are no moments of embarrassment: his artists are first-rate, his aristocrats know better than to do anything, and everyone else is a provincial. A provincial is any person who would be embarrassing if he were a friend or a member of the same club.
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In youth the most awkward agethe one that gives us the most to blush foris the one we have just quitted. College students have a horror of being mistaken for high-schoolers; those in their mid-twenties wince at the gaucheries of college years. Thereafter, embarrassment is not so much a matter of maturity as of social class.
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There is nothing that so militates against the sense of one's own vast ignorance as adopting some such Big Idea, and the young, whose ignorance is largest and rawest and most exasperating, have a natural predilection for Big Ideas. Marxists, Ayn Randers, Scientologists, and deconstructionists have one thing in common: they tend to have been recruited young. Once in the fold, they may remain there indefinitely and turn into fossils, but twigs are bent in the teens and twenties.
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If there is one key to prejudging books and consigning them, half-read, to the holocaust, it must be Style, and "Style" is the single word most likely to provoke hack writers and hack readers to postures of defense. Storytelling and yarn-spinning are simple, wholesome crafts, they would aver, to which questions of Style are irrelevant. Style is to be left to stylists, like Hemingway or Faulkner or Joyce, the writers you have to read in school.
Nonsense. Style is simply a way of handling yourself in prose so as to signal to an attentive reader that she is in the presence of someone possessed of honesty, wit, sophistication, irony, compassion, or whatever other attributes one looks for in a person to whom one is about to give over n-many hours of one's mental life. People who insist otherwise usually have mental halitosis.
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These days nothing short of the author's death can keep a commercially successful work of sf from being cloned into sequels as long as the product moves from the shelves.
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: Thomas M. Disch |
Stephen King Guns (2013) |
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: Stephen King |
Jean-Paul Sartre L'existentialisme est un humanisme (1946) |
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: jean-paul sartre - |
Northrop Frye Creation and Recreation (1980) |
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The cultural aura, or whatever it is, that insulates us from nature consists of words, and the verbal part of it is what i call a mythology, or the total structure of human creation conveyed by words, with literature at its centre. Such a mythology belongs to the mirror, not to the window. It is designed to draw a circumference around human society and reflect its concerns, not to look directly at the nature outside.
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A glance out of the window of an aeroplane, to the patterns of the landscape or city lights below, will tell us why this is the century of Kandinsky and not that of Constable or Ruysdael; more important, it will also tell us that the space for us has become a set of coordinated points: we do not live in a centered space any more, but have to create our own centres.
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It has been said that those who do not learn history are condemned to repeat it: this means very little, because we are all in the position of voters in a Canadian election, condemned to repeat history anyway whether we learn it or not. But those who refuse to confront their own real past, in whatever form, are condemning themselves to die without having been born.
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I sometimes wonder whether the work of creation in a society is really effective if it meets no social resistance at all. <...> One applauds the tolerance, except the public is so seldom tolerant about anything unless it has become indifferent to it as well. A world where arts are totally tolerated might easily become a world in which they were merely decorative, and evoked no sense of challenge to repression at all.
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There is a much deeper level on which the arts form part of our heritage of freedom, and where inner repression by the individual and external repression in society makes them constantly felt. That is why totalitarian societies, for example, find themselves unable either to tolerate the arts or to generate new forms of them.
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: Northrop Frye |
Dubravka Ugrešić Zabranjeno čitanje (2001) |
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: Dubravka Ugrešić |
Northrop Frye The Modern Century (1969) |
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In the year 1867 Thomas Hardy wrote a poem called '1967', in which he remarks that the best thing he can say about the year is the fact that he is not going to live to see it.
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In proportion as the confidence in progress has declined, its relation to individual experience has become clearer. That is, progress is a social projection of the individual's sense of the passing of time. But the individual, as such, is not progressing to anything except his own death. Hence the collapse of belief in progress reinforces the sense of anxiety which is rooted in the consciousness of death.
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The triumph of communication is the death of communication: where communication forms a total environment, there is nothing to be communicated.
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Society can pursue equality to the point of forgetting about liberty.
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As most great theorists of education, from Castiglione to Newman, have recognized, the form of liberal education is social, in the broadest sense, rather than simply intellectual. I should call this social form of liberal education, provisionally, a vision of society, or, more technically, a mythology.
In every age there is a structure of ideas, images, beliefs, assumptions, anxieties, and hopes which express the view of man's situation and destiny generally held at that time. I call this structure mythology and its units myths. A myth, in this sense, is an expression of man's concern about himself, about his place in the scheme of things, about his relation to society and God, about the ultimate origin and ultimate fate, either of himself or of the human species generally.
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: Northrop Frye |
Aldous Huxley Brave New World Revisited (1958) |
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: Aldous Huxley |