What do you think?
Rate this book
374 pages, Paperback
First published May 8, 1968
Eppur si muove�
La peste, venue d’Orient, entra en Allemagne par la Bohème. Elle voyageait sans se presser, au bruit des cloches, comme une impératrice. Penchée sur le verre du buveur, soufflant la chandelle du savant assis parmi ses livres, servant la messe du prêtre, cachée comme une puce dans la chemise des fille de joies, la peste apportait à la vie de tous un élément d’insolente égalité, un âcre et dangereux ferment d’aventure. Le glas répandait dans l’air une insistante rumeur de fête noire�
S’en suivait-il que les phases subséquentes de l’aventure alchimique fussent autre chose que des songes, et qu’un jour il connaîtrait aussi la pureté ascétique de l’Œuvre au Blanc, puis le triomphe conjugué de l’esprit et des sens qui caractérise l’Œuvre au Rouge ?
L’homme est une entreprise qui a contre elle le temps, la nécessité, la fortune et l’imbécile et toujours croissante primauté du nombre, dit plus posément le philosophe. Les hommes tueront l’homme.
Qui serait assez insensé pour mourir sans avoir fait au moins le tour de sa prison ?
Il fit ou crut faire un effort pour se lever, sans bien savoir s’il était secouru ou si au contraire il portait secours. Les grincement des clés tournées et des verrous repoussés ne fut plus pour lui qu’un bruit suraigu de porte qui s’ouvre. Et c’est aussi loin qu’on peut aller dans la fin de Zénon.
"Tako se rešetaju naši čitaoci: glupi nam veruju, oni još gluplji nas napuštaju smatrajući da smo gluplji od njih, a oni što ostanu snalaze se u tom lavirintu, nauče da preskoče ili obiđu prepreku laži. Baš bih se iznenadio kad se čak i u najsvetijim tekstovima ne bi našlo takvih lukavstava. Kad se tako čita, svaka knjiga postaje tajanstvena poruka."
(Zenonovo ratno lukavstvo, str. 85-86)
�...filozof se zabavljao iscrtavanjem karte ljudskih mišljenja leta Gospodnjeg 1569. bar u pogledu onih neobičnih oblasti u kojima je njegov duh boravio. Kopernikov sistem crkva nije osudila � ali tvrdnja koja se sastoji u postavlju Sunca umesto Zemlje u središte sveta � ipak vređa i Aristotela, i Bibliju � Zenon je po sebi znao u kojoj meri Zemlja u pokretu krši navike koje je svako od nas izgradio da bi mogao da živi. � Gora od smelosti zamenjivanja Zemlje Suncem bila je Demokritova greška: verovanje u beskrajnost svetova, koje čak i Suncu oduzima povlašćeno mesto i poriče postojanje jednog središta � Averoesova greška, pretpostavka o božanstvu rasprostrtom svuda unutar večnog sveta, kao da je vernika lišavala utehe boga stvorenog prema ljudskom obličju, čija su milost ili gnev isključivo čoveku namenjeni. Večnost duše, Origenova greška, izazvala je gnušanje, jer je skoro ni na šta svodila neposrednu sadašnjost: čovek je pristajao da se pred njim otvori srećna ili nesrećna besmrtnost za koju je odgovoran, ali ne i da se na sve strane prostire neka hladna večnost u kojoj on bitiše ne postojeći…� (227-228)
An object brought from Italy was hanging on the wall of the small antechamber, a Florentine mirror in a tortoise-shell frame, formed from a combination of some twenty little convex mirrors hexagonal in shape, like the cells of a beehive, and each mirror enclosed, in its turn, by a narrow border which had once been the shell of a living creature. Zeno looked at himself there in the gray light of a Parisian dawn. What he saw was twenty figures compressed and reduced by the laws of optics, twenty images of a man in a fur bonnet, of haggard and sallow complexion, with gleaming eyes which were themselves mirrors. This man in flight, enclosed within a world of his own, separated from others like himself who were also in flight in worlds parallel to his, recalled to him the hypothesis of the Greek Democritus, about an infinite series of identical universes in each of which lives and dies imprisoned a series of philosophers.
The fantasy evoked a bitter smile. The twenty little figures of the mirror smiled, too, each alone in his frame. He then saw them turn their heads half away and direct themselves toward the door.
The small citadel of the Just, encircled by the Catholic troops, lived in a very fever of God. The spur to their courage was the open-air preaching held each evening. Bockhold, the favourite Saint, pleased them all with his sermons, for he knew how to season the gory images drawn from the Apocalypse with jokes from the actor's trade. Mingled with the shrill voices of the women, imploring air from their Father in Heaven, rose the groans of the sick and of those first wounded in the siege, who lay on these warm summer nights under the arcades of the square. Hilzonda was one of the most ardent among the worshippers: standing tall, elongated like a flame, the mother of Zeno would denounce the ignominies of Rome. Her eyes, filled with frightful visions, would cloud with tears; suddenly collapsing like a too slender taper and sinking to the ground, she would week in tender contrition, and in the desire to die.