I swear never to speak of things that I don’t know well, not to improvise for anything in the world, not to be unworthy of a subject that I treat, not to discredit myself in my own eyes. (Oath sworn at the end of a conference with M., particularly superficial.)January the 20th, 1960. The French …
Monthly Archives: January 1960
1960-01-11
January 11. Entire day devoured by conversation. All natural deaths are compromising. If the story of the fall is so beautiful, it is because the author describes there figures that are neither symbolic nor mythological: he sees a God of flesh and blood in the garden, not an entity. One day man will abolish knowledge …
1960-01-06
January 6, 1960 I had spoken to Camus only a single time, in 1950, I think; I have spoken ill of him a great deal, and now I feel myself under the blow of a terrible and unjustified remorse. I lose all my means before a cadaver, especially when he is so respectable. Sorrow without …
1960-01-01
January 1st, 1960. For years, I no longer read Baudelaire, but I think of him as if I gave my daily lecture on him. Is it because he alone seems to me to have gone farther than me in the experience of “depression”? Chance meeting with X — always that puzzling blend of crook and …