I already know that time pushes us to repetition, and memory to nostalgia, and experience to knowledge, which is a way of predicting the future: that is why appointments are increasingly shorter and the hours pass faster. I already know that in every relationship there is a moment in which you stop fucking to make love, and another, catastrophic one, in which you stop making love to fuck again, only without seduction, and there, then, alone The temptation of progress remains: doing things because you stopped feeling them, abandoning literature to devote yourself to philology, beginning to fill the silences with politics, in bed and in life. The most terrible verse in the Spanish language was written by a certain Luis, “because everything is the same and you know it”, and there he specified the worst of sadness, which is not pain or loneliness but apathy, being back but without going back anywhere. It’s scary. He was going to be forty years old. I imagine him wondering what’s the point of knowing if you’re no longer curious. A friend told me that as a teenager he kissed the way he read, with that thirst for revelation, with that desire to found the world. Naivety enjoys very little prestige, and yet, cynicism, much more widespread, much more ‘mainstream’, is cheered as if it were the signature of the wise, perhaps because it is the laughter of the sad: there are so many of them. I am envious when I see someone discovering something for the first time, even if it is a creak, and I admire those who still listen to stories and suffer with them and bite their nails and also cringe. From Calasso I learned that the charm of Greek myths is not in their antiquity, but in their present: they did not happen, they are happening over and over again, somewhere that we can only intuit; They are not repeated, they are recreated: Ulysses is still returning home, Orpheus is looking back. I heard Richard Ford say that love is asking yourself, many years later, what your wife is thinking about, even if she is on the other side of the Atlantic. I remembered this when finishing ‘New Years’. I called my friend. It had been a long time since we had talked about love.
#Bruno #Pardo #Porto #long #time #talked #love
