*Myth of Sisypus by Albert Camus.
Sisyphus... the gods had condemned Sisiphyus to ceaselessly rolling a rock to the top of a mountian, whence the stone would fall back of its own weight. They had thought with some reason that there is no more dreadful punishment than futile and hopeless labor....
시시푸스가 accusation of a ceratin levity in regard to the gods 때문에 엄청난 무게의 바윗덩어리를 산위로 올리는 벌을 받았다...
그 바윗덩어리는 자연스레 정상에 올라가면.. 땅으로 떨어진다..
It is during that return, that pause, that Sisyphus interests me. A face that toils so close to stones is already stone itself! That hour like a breathing space which returns as surely as his suffering, that is the hour of consciousness. At each of those moments when he leaves the heights and gradually sinks toward the lairs of the gods, he is superior to his fate. He is stronger than his rock.
If this myth is tragic, that is because its hero is conscious.
His fate belongs to him. His rock is his thing.
그가 바로 그의 운명의 주인이다.
*The Angels - by John Updike.
Despite difficulties in pursuing it, greawtness matters. Without examples of greatness, our lives would be much more narrow and constraining. For it is what the greawtest people have achieved--- in music, for example, and art, and literature---- that makes known to the rest of us what man is capable of.
copyright reserved to John Updike.
They are above us all the time,
the good gentlemen, Mozart and Bach,
Scarlatti and Handel and Brahms,
lavishing measures of light down upon us,
telling us, over and over, there is a realm
above this plane of silent compromise.
They are around us everywhere, the old seers,
Matisse and Vermeer, Cezanne and Piero,
greeting us echoing in subway tunnels,
springing like winter flowers from postcards
Scotch-taped to white kitchen walls,
waiting larger than life in shadowy galleries
to whisper that edges of color
lie all aobut us innocent as grass.
They are behind us, beneath us,
the abysmal books, Shakespeare and Tolstoy,
the Bible and Proust and Cervantes,
burning in memory like leaky furnace doors,
minepits of honesty from which we escaped
with dilated suspicions. Love us, dead thrones,
sing us to sleep, awaken our eyes,
comfort with terror our mortal afternoons.
자. 진득히 감상을 해보시고 나면, 아! 우리 인간들의 위대함(?)이 보일것입니다.
미술과 음악과 그리고 문학에 포진해있는 이 아름다운 존재들의 명석함!
절대 오만이 아님.
*A Simple Heart - Gustave Flaubert
이건 프랑스 문학입니다. 너무나도 단순 무식하게 보이는 여자하인, Felicite의 인생을 통해서 본Greatness... 부와 권력 명예만이 당신의 Greatness를 보여주는 모든 것인가요? 라는 질문을 던진다. Felicite, 과연 그녀가 살다간 소박하고 미천한듯이 보인 인생에는 하나도 칭찬할만한게 없을까? 아니면, 그녀의 헌신과 신에대한 의지가... 그녀의 Greatness를 보여주는 하나의 모습일까?
정답은 오직 당신의 것.
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