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On sentiment

Modifié le : 2019/07/29

This morn­ing I was read­ing one of those max­ims that Face­book fol­low­ers like to spread, and that urge every­one to express their feel­ings because the chance to do so might not hap­pen again. It is a fact. Sav­ing water will not pro­tect us from thirst ; it is unpredictable.

The so-called mod­ern nov­els often speak only of this, of the deliv­er­ance of feel­ings, of the recon­quest of one’s cas­tles and estates, of inner ful­fill­ment or of all the oppo­sites. The dra­mas to be solved dance in cir­cles around the cas­trat­ed indi­vid­ual, obsessed for a cen­tu­ry with roman­tic ideals.

The impor­tance giv­en to sen­ti­ment and its indi­vid­ual expres­sion is such that polit­i­cal dis­cours­es, even those whose themes grav­i­tate as high as the nation’s stratos­phere, must address this uni­tary free­dom. With­out the bee’s growth, there could be no hive.

So be it. The prob­lem does not come so much from the indi­vid­ual or soci­ety but from the fail­ure of dia­logue. When men live by love, the poet said, there will be no more misery.

Is the human race at this stage of imbal­ance that it no longer knows how to dis­tin­guish between things ? Why do indi­vid­u­als only accept on the tip of their lips to bend their moods to those of oth­ers ? We live too much as adults at an ear­ly age, even before we under­stand or con­trol our own enjoy­ment. We no longer share any­thing, or so lit­tle, or poor­ly, because no one seems to be able to pro­pose a shared moral­i­ty. This is undoubt­ed­ly the gen­e­sis of the dra­mas, this is why we enjoy writ­ing or play­ing tragedies, this is why we scream loud­er and loud­er. We become these emp­ty bar­rels that end up sound­ing hol­low­er and loud­er. Express­ing our feel­ings can­not be done with­out lis­ten­ing to the music pro­duced by oth­ers, with­out under­stand­ing the world that has cre­at­ed us and inhab­its us.

And to achieve this, a lit­tle silence in our hearts is need­ed. Not that we should be silent, but rather accept to play the beau­ti­ful game of the stills, of the dis­til­la­tion of our brandies.

With­out com­mu­ni­cat­ing ves­sels, there is no drunkenness.

Comments

  • Alain Beaudry

    Alain Beaudry 2020/09/29 10:32 0

    Encore une fois Guy, ta pensée et ta réflexion aiguisée et si sensible me rejoignent complètement. Serai à la retraite très bientôt et j'aurai tout le temps de méditer sur notre monde et ses bateaux qui dérivent..

  • admin

    admin 2020/09/29 14:27 0

    Merci Alain. Merci pour ta gentillesse. Je suis heureux pour toi que tu puisses profiter de la retraite. De mon côté, je crois que je devrai travailler jusqu'à la fin des temps! Prends soin de toi.

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