8/14/2023 0 Comments Better than masterwriter 2015![]() And somehow from this she had learned a scenario. He believed in movements and mystery plays, rhythm, creation, the stars. Steiner was a great teacher, a savant who believed deep insights could be revealed in art. It was a fortification, a terminal, an observatory from which one could look into the soul. The windows resembled an old hotel somewhere in middle Europe. He was entering the grey, the Wagnerian scene before him which she might close at any moment like a matchbox and replace in her bag. He felt himself trembling, he knew she could see it. He longed to kiss the fingers which held the postcard, the lean arms, the skin which smelled like lemons. ![]() He could feel himself slipping from reality. He submitted to it as to the mirror of a hypnotist. The darkness of the picture, the resonance of the domes began to invade him. Don’t get into esotericism or such things. It crumbles eventually, but doesn’t burn. Which reminds me: build your lives from concrete. Perhaps the woman doesn’t exist, like an elusive Sophia at least the both men go crazy, they dissolve like the Goetheanum in the flames. None of them are overly sane or particularly lucky in life, the author is even bit by a cat I suppose it could just as well be story about karma. It’s a story of a man who meets a woman in possession of an innate talent for occultism who is the friend of another man, an author writing a novel with the title The Goetheanum. You must read The Destruction of the Goetheanum (you’ll find it in Dusk or in a fairly new volume called Collected Stories). In case anyone knows.) And he pays attention to dogs - which is, I don’t have to point it out, his most important asset. ![]() (It would be interesting to find out more. And there certainly are various traces of ideas whose inspiration I could speculate about, but won’t. Kandinsky, tarot cards, a yogi in the city (he has hairy ears, like a cat). In Light Years, Krishnamurti is mentioned in a conversation, just to give an example. I don’t know if James Salter had any particular interest in anthroposophy, though he clearly knew of it perhaps it was more of a general interest in spiritual things and worldviews. Reading his novel Light Years right now, I’m quite disturbed by the thought that it will end I’ll be left with my own imperfect language, my own imperfect thoughts, that never make so much sense of the world, and rarely makes it beautiful. I came across him thanks to Diana who at some point somewhere mentioned his short story, The Destruction of the Goetheanum. Some of you may have heard that James Salter, the American author, has died recently he’s truly a genius of words, a master writer. ![]()
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