I've almost finished reading La Peste for the second time, and like the first time, I feel really inspired. I feel I understand what Camus was saying, and the difference between him and Sartre, much better now - largely thanks to a random book attacking atheism which I found and flicked through in a bookshop. Sartre holds the view that man can, in some way, replace God. That's the classic humanism/communism which I adhered to a couple of years ago.

Camus, on the other hand, doesn't try to replace God. His view is a lot more pessimistic - that we can never build up a utopia. I came to agree with this pessimistic view a while back, and I kind of let it get to me in that, despite holding my beliefs, I never did anything about them. The characters in La Peste are inspiring because, despite acknowledging their smallness in the world, they never stop trying to improve it in their own small way. The carry on even though they know that ultimately, what they achieve is going to be tiny, and then we're all going to die anyway.

That is exactly the kind of inspiration I needed to get off my arse. Last year, at sixth form, I pretty much single-handedly ran the Amnesty International Club (3 members...) but I decided against joining at uni because I didn't agree with their view on the death penalty (and am still unable to decide. It's a difficult question, and I think ultimately it's more rational to support it, and more humane not to. As some Frenchy once said, there are two great errors one can commit in thinking: relying too much, or too little, on reason. I can't decide where this one falls). I've realised now how silly that was - even if I do disagree with one aspect of what they aim for, I agree with all the rest. I also stopped because I felt that I couldn't make a difference - but of course I can. It's just a tiny, tiny one in the grand scheme of things. You have to be happy to save people one at a time - you can't save them all at once.

One of Gandhi's more famous quotes is "you must be the change you wish to see in the world," which resonates nicely with La Peste. Another example of my own complacency and despondency in the face of the world is the use of plastic bags. So many millions are being used, I felt I couldn't make a difference. All it took to change my mind a few months ago was going shopping with Mike (friend at Oxford), and seeing that he took his own bags. He didn't say anything about it, or tell me to change my evil ways. But seeing him, I realised that the change I wanted to see couldn't come about if I didn't participate - a revelation that I suppose I'm generalizing now - and started declining bags at supermarkets.

I suppose the worst thing I've done (from my point of view) is give up on the whole socialism thing. It's sad that, of the handful of organisations surviving on the far left, almost all are weird, Marxist-Leninist commies. That kind of thinking just doesn't apply any more, I think, so I was put off. But I can be anti-corporate without belonging to a formal group. Corporations do hideous things in the world, and we learn to ignore them because of the low prices and also because those being oppressed are out of sight, out of mind (not to mention out-groups...) And even though a one man boycott wont bring down Primark, it will make a slight - ever so slight - dent in their profits, and possibly set a precedent.

So there we go. I'll take things one at a time - it's difficult to maintain resolutions if you take too many on at once. I already don't use plastic bags, this term I'll join Amnesty, over summer I'll implement my boycotts and next year, if I find a good group, I'll join some leftist organisation. It's all down in writing, so I can't go back on it.

How fitting that this should happen at the beginning of Spring.

 Why is there so little of it? Yes, I suppose compared to many, such as Sarah, I just have loads of time but am just ineffecient at using it. But look:

Work (+ travel): 6-10 hours / day, usually 8. 5 days a week.
Watching Heroes: 45mins / day.
Grammar revision: 1 hour / day.
Getting ready for the day: 1hr day
Reading La Peste: 1hr/day
Internet: 30mins/day
Dinner: 30mins/day

I have to do all these things (except work twice a week). Yes, I do need the internet, it provides ALL my social life. I'm not sure why I thought it would be a good idea to re-read La Peste. However, I am faring well with it. My French is not good enough to only have an average of 3 words I don't know per page, so I feel obliged to look them all up for a complete understanding of the text, rather than getting the gist of it, as I did the first and only other time I read it.

I have no time to revise for my exams in 4 weeksish. Damn.

In book news, I now own something like 11 second hand Discworld books, huzzah! I also bought a book by H G Well,s brand new from Waterstones, for £1.50 - amazing that you can still get books for the price, though admittedly it was less than 100 pages.

I currently hate George Bush, my father and China. More, perhaps, later.

Life is generally good.

Why not?

Toutes les gloires sont éphémères. Du point de vue de Sirius, les oeuvres de Goethe dans dix milles ans seront en poussière et son nom oublié.

All glory is ephemeral. From the point of view of Sirius, in ten thousand years Goethe's works will be dust and his name forgotten.


Une pensée profonde est en continuel devenir, épouse l'expérience et s'y façonne. De même, la création unique d'un homme se fortifie dans ses visages successifs et multiples que sont ses oeuvres. Les unes complètent les autres, les corrigent ou les rattrapent, les contredisent aussi. Si quelque chose termine la création, ce n'est pas le cri victorieux et illusoire de l'artiste aveugle : "J'ai tout dit", mais la mort du créateur qui ferme son expérience et le livre de son génie.

This one is for the artists, but I can't do it justice, as French-speakers will know. Here it is, roughly:
A profound mind is in continual development; it adopts experience and fashions itself thereto. A man's unique creation strengthens itself in his successive and multiple faces which are his works of art. Some of them complete others, correct them or put them right, also contradict them. If something ends creation, it is not the victorious and illusory cry of the blind artist, "I've said everything," but the death of the creator which ends his experience and closes the book of his genius.


I've now finishes Le Mythe de Sisyphe and have moved onto La chute, which Sartre claimed was Camus' best novel.

Vague thoughts here. I am slightly ill (phenomenal amounts of phlegm have emigrated from my nose) so I blame that for the disjointedness of this. And also for the fact that I'm not revising.

Firstly, is there any way to delete memories on LJ? I have a random post by Sarah as a memory because it showed me how to cut, but I no longer need it.

 In other news, I really wish I was more musical. I'm surrounded by such talented musicians in RL - people with their own bands, writing their own songs, which are actually very good; people in jazz bands who sound amazing when put together; people who play several instruments - and on LJ - Sarah's amazing on the piano, Fea is one of those multiple-instument people and I'm not even going to mention Encai.

As Nogrod recently posted, music has this amazing ability to touch people. I don't think poetry has quite the same effect and is, in any case, not the most popular medium. I suppose I'd be content with getting some rhythm into my poetry à la Baudelaire, and I think I'm getting there, but there's a long way to go, especially considering how infrequently I write.

Speaking of poetic French people, here's a bit more Camus for the Camus-hungry:

Il est bon que l'homme se juge quelquefois. Il est seul à pouvoir le faire.
It's good for man to judge himself sometimes. He is alone in being able to do so.

"Tout est permis" s'écrie Ivan Karamazov. Cela aussi sent son absurde. Mais à condition de ne pas l'entendre vulgairement. Je ne sais si on l'a bien remarqué: il ne s'agit pas d'un cri de délivrance et de joie, mais d'une consatation amère. La certitude d'un dieu qui donnerait son sens à la vie surpasse de beaucoup en attrait le pouvoir impuni de mal faire.Le choix ne serait pas difficile. Mais il n'y a pas de choix et l'amertume commence alors. L'absurde ne délivre pas, il lie. Il n'autorise pas tous les actes. Tout est permis ne signifie pas que rien n'est défendu.
"Everything is permitted," writes Ivan Karamazov. He also feels the absurd, but only on the condition that one does not interpret him vulgarly. I don't know if you remarked: this is not a cry of deliverance or joy, but a bitter statement. The certainty of a God who would give His meaning  to life far surpasses in attraction the ability to do evil unpunished. The choice would not be difficult to make. But there is no choice, and so the bitterness commences. The absurd does not deliver, it binds. It does not authorise all acts. "Everything is permitted" dos not mean that nothing is defended.

I thought I'd do a bit of self-analysis. This has just been on my mind.

There are two sides to me. The first is the existentialist, searching for some deep meaning in life that doesn't exist. Because life is so meaningless, this side of me is very apathetic. Back when I created the Red Book, somebody asked why I even needed a reminder of why I should be a communist. The existentialist within is the answer.

In response to the existentialist, the other side of me is the fervent socialist/communist. I think I'd prefer to call myself a socialist to distance myself from Marx, Lenin and Stalin. Anyway, this side of me responds that yeah, maybe there is no point to life, but it exists anyway. Suffering exists. And while it exists, it's unfair to be apathetic; it should be every person's duty to reduce that suffering. In this way, I suppose I give meaning to life: the ease of suffering. Even though I haven't done anything noble or altruistic on a grand scale, so it feels a lot like I'm talking the talk but not walking the walk... I aim to correct that at Uni.

There you have my two polar opposites as I see them. I'm biased of course, being myself, so who knows how accurate this is. Who cares really?


Talking of existentialism, I've finished Jean de Florette by Pagnol, which was quite depressing, so I'm starting up Le Mythe de Sisyphe by Camus again. I really love this guy. Here are some of my favourite quotes thus far, in French for those lucky enough to understand it, and with my shoddy translations beneath for those who speak only English.


Il arrive que les décors s'écroulent. Lever, tramway, quatre heures de bureau ou d'usine, repas, tramway, quatre heures de travail, repas, sommeil et lundi mardi mercredi jeudi vendredi et samedi sur le même rythme, cette route se suit aisément la plupart du temps. Un jour seulement, le « pourquoi » s'élève et tout commence dans cette lassitude teintée d'étonnement.

One day, the settings collapse. Wake up, tram, four hours of the office or the factory, meal, tram, four hours of work, meal, sleep, and Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday Saturday to the same rhythm; most of the time we follow this route with ease. Yet one day, the question "why?" awakens and everything begins to be seen with weariness tinted with astonishment.


Dans certaines heures de lucidité, l'aspect mécanique de [les] gestes [des hommes], leur pantomine privée de sens rend stupide tout ce qui les entoure.

In certain hours of lucidity, the mechanical aspect of [men's] gestures, their pantomimes lacking sense render everything surrounding them foolish.

Si... nous affirmons... la réalité de l'Un (quel qu'il soit), nous tombons dans la ridicule contradiction d'un esprit qui affirme l'unité totale et prouve par son affirmation même sa propre différence et la diversité qu'il prétendait résoudre.

If we affirm the reality of the One (whatever it is), we fall into the ridiculous contradiction of a being who affirms the total unity and proves by this same affirmation his own difference and the diversity which he claimed to resolve.

That's a bit of a complex one. What Camus is saying is that God provides meaning to life, He gives it reason by uniting all the irrational things we see. However, in doing this, he also proves his own separation from the Unity of the world, because he's outside it. The meaning and unity God gives to the world cannot be applied to Himself so this results in the same problem of a non-united, diverse universe without meaning.


I love Camus. So much of this book goes over my head, either because it's in complex French or because I don't understand the philosophical arguments (he spends quite some time attacking other philosophers whose works I haven't read), but what I understand really speaks to me.