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Apr. 27th, 2014
Camus and Sartre
Apr. 27th, 2014 10:02 amMs. Beauvoir gives us some more colorful glimpses into the private side of Camus. This is from 1945, after this group came into its fame and international renown. Life can still be wonderfully silly.
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When we went out together, drinking, laughing, chatting, late into the night, he was funny, cynical, rather coarse and often very bawdy in his conversation; he would admit his emotions, give way to his impulses; he was capable of sitting down in the snow on the edge of the sidewalk at two in the morning and meditating pathetically about love. “You have to choose. Love either lasts or it goes up in flames; the tragedy is that it can’t last and go up in flames as well.” I liked the “hungry ardour” with which he abandoned himself to life and pleasure.
-- Simone Beauvoir
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[Source: Ronald Aronson, “Camus and Sartre”]
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When we went out together, drinking, laughing, chatting, late into the night, he was funny, cynical, rather coarse and often very bawdy in his conversation; he would admit his emotions, give way to his impulses; he was capable of sitting down in the snow on the edge of the sidewalk at two in the morning and meditating pathetically about love. “You have to choose. Love either lasts or it goes up in flames; the tragedy is that it can’t last and go up in flames as well.” I liked the “hungry ardour” with which he abandoned himself to life and pleasure.
-- Simone Beauvoir
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[Source: Ronald Aronson, “Camus and Sartre”]
Nina Cassian
Apr. 27th, 2014 02:15 pmA bird—very close to me,
a kind of relative,
showed me a hidden spring
in the woods.
I tasted it,
and suddenly leaves covered my body.
Two squirrels
jumped on my shoulders.
The spring itself
engulfed my legs
like a transparent weed.
We stayed like this
till evening fell.
Then the bird announced to me
my youth had come to an end.
-- “Not a Raven” by Nina Cassian
a kind of relative,
showed me a hidden spring
in the woods.
I tasted it,
and suddenly leaves covered my body.
Two squirrels
jumped on my shoulders.
The spring itself
engulfed my legs
like a transparent weed.
We stayed like this
till evening fell.
Then the bird announced to me
my youth had come to an end.
-- “Not a Raven” by Nina Cassian
