WISDOM

I have no more intentions of writing a short story than André Breton would of reading one. I don't write short stories, monsieur, but short prose, which is to say, a kind of literary philosophy. Yes, I'm probably the inventor, as it were, of this genre, though I don't ordinarily boast of the fact! What fusion music is to the modern composer of electric music, literary philosophy or, alternatively, philosophical literature is to me. You might say that I'm an 'author' and a 'writer' combined, speaking in Barthian terms, and that I vary the degree the one preponderates over the other from work to work, depending on the context and in the interests of literary variety.

Yes, quite so, signor! Each short-prose piece is distinct from the others and could well be compared, as you suggest, with each of the separate tracks on a modern jazz or fusion album. For a collection of short prose is essentially akin to such an album because all of its contents are distinct, complete in themselves, and constructed along individual lines, just as each track of a jazz album is composed in a different fashion, with a specific tempo, texture, form, atmosphere, pitch, and so on. A novel, on the other hand, being an integral whole, is akin to a symphony. For each chapter relates to the others, just as each movement in a symphony relates to the others in an overall symphonic integrity. Yes, precisely! But the days of the symphony are numbered, and so, too, are the days of the novel. The future will belong to philosophical literature, which may include something akin to a novel or, rather, novella in its overall framework, but will never be subordinate to it. The production of separate novels will be superseded by collectivized formats, with or without short prose. No-one will ever think of writing a short story, at any rate, since such a thing would be thoroughly anachronistic - as, indeed, it appears to be to the more advanced literary minds of today! But short prose, however, is much more respectable, being the modern equivalent, if you like, of a short story.

Ah, you've read my poetry, monsieur! I'm glad you liked it. Not everyone does, least of all those who respect the poetic tradition. To them, on the contrary, Brian Flynn suggests anarchy and a total absence of craft. But, permit me to say, they're really quite mistaken. For Flynn knows what he's doing all right, of that you can rest assured! Oui, absolument. And my poetry is still developing; it hasn't yet reached a climax, by any means! With each fresh batch of poems I become increasingly conscious of what needs to be done to improve the quality of my verse. I don't tamper with the poems just written but reserve improvements for the next batch, perhaps three or four months later. In this way I continue to progress, to progress, it could be said, towards the ultimate poetry. For such poetry would be a poetry in which appearance had been reduced to a minimum and essence, by contrast, expanded to a maximum!

No, I don't say, signor, that the individual poem would have to be very short. For that would preclude the maximization of essence. Simply that it would have to be free from enslavement to those traditional ingredients of the poetic craft which kow-tow to appearance. Ingredients like rhyme, metre, assonance, alliteration, stanza divisions, punctuation, and so on. The higher poetry says the highest and most important things, which of course pertain to the spiritual life, but it says them in a way which avoids drawing undue attention to the technical side of poetry, and largely because that side has been reduced to the minimum verbal level necessary to conveying one's thoughts.

Bien sur, monsieur! No stanza divisions, since they would appeal to the eye as apparent distractions. No rhymes, for they likewise distract from essence. No sequential repetition or staging of phrases, since any kind of word pattern repeated two or more times suggests a concession to appearances. No regular metre, since that is ever a distraction from the content of a poem. No punctuation, for commas, full-stops, semi-colons, colons, etc., appeal to the eye more than to the intellect.

Yes, you're in the picture now, so I needn't continue. Danke shön. An intelligent young lady like you, Fraulein Hochmeister, will always be in tune with the Zeitgeist. You understand my intentions well enough to be a poet yourself - as do you Monsieur Paume, mon vieux ami. Yes, though I wager that Signor Cranetto is not so ill-equipped to comprehend the logic of my poetic endeavour as he so modestly pretends! Ah, no, you're no philistine, signor, but an accomplished pittore whose most sought-after works make very few concessions to appearances.... But I digress! You asked me, fraulein, whether one should jump the gun, as it were, and proceed to the highest, most essential poetry in order to be ahead of one's fellows. But that would be a mistake quite unworthy of one's poetic integrity. Just as it would be a mistake for anyone to attempt to rise to my level whose inner development didn't warrant it. One must be true to oneself, the extent of one's spiritual development, and thus produce work which reflects that fact as accurately as possible. A man who abandons rhyme, metre, stanzas, punctuation, et cetera, just because he sees that I have or has read about my endeavour somewhere ... is being untrue to himself, and what he produces, in consequence, won't be authentic poetry but a sham which someone like myself could easily see through, inasmuch as the level of thought expressed in the poems would be incompatible with the technique employed in its expression. Sham poets, dear fraulein, are no less plentiful than sham painters, composers, and sculptors, and should, if possible, be avoided! Only a certain level of thought will justify a certain corresponding technique, and to get to that level of thought, which we're contending to be a high one, may take years, if not decades.

Non, it's not just a question of age, monsieur, but of lifestyle as well. For only a consistently ascetic lifestyle will permit the emergence of a consistently high level of spiritual thought. The sensualist is doomed to write about his sensuality, and thus remain chained to a comparatively inferior level of poetic endeavour. The romantic poet is ever inferior to the religious one, his subject-matter leaving room for much improvement. As is invariably the case, monsieur, the lifestyle of the individual conditions the quality of the poet's work! One cannot live like a sinner and write like a saint, no matter what certain superficial poets may like to imagine in the throes, presumably, of some liberal delusion. And neither can one live like a poet. For a poet is only such when actively engaged in the poetic craft, not when wiping his arse or, if you'll permit me an additional vulgarism, screwing his mistress!

Ah! I thought that would make you blush, fraulein, since the presence of three men at table is a sufficient pretext for feminine modesty.... No, one cannot make love like a poet. For a poet has no more to do with making love than has a doctor or an engineer. A poet has to do with writing and reciting poems, that's all! But a collectivist must be more than just a poet; he must also be a writer of short prose, an aphorist, and a few other things besides, since only by being the most comprehensive of writers ... can he transcend the separate categories of traditional genres, and thereby reflect a convergence to omega, so to speak, on the level of literary progress.

Yes, I'll admit that sounds rather esoteric, signor. Nonetheless, one must grasp the essence of evolutionary progress if one is to understand exactly why literature should develop in this more comprehensive way. We're not in the world simply to enjoy ourselves, you know, but to evolve towards a condition of transcendent spirit in the future Beyond, a condition which may well take centuries to bring about. Only shallow-pates imagine that life should be lived for its own sake, as though life were inherently something good from which a steady quota of enjoyment could be obtained! There is enjoyment to be derived from it, I'll admit. Yet such enjoyment shouldn't be considered as an end-in-itself but, rather, as the by-product of one's daily struggles with the world. Anyone who enjoys the world shows himself to be lacking in spiritual insight, since it's precisely the world that needs to be overcome ... if we're ever to get our species, or what may emerge from it, firmly on the road to Heaven.

Ah, you accuse me of moralizing, monsieur! But I assure you it's only through moralizing that one can keep the world in perspective, and accordingly direct one's steps along truly progressive lines. Anyone who doesn't moralize sooner or later stumbles into reaction and becomes a victim or accomplice of the world. But the wise man desires to overcome the world, not be overcome by it. Only through his efforts can mankind go forward. And if his efforts lead to the redemption of literature along collective or essential lines, then good for him! For by making literature more moral, he helps the people to become more moral as well. Just as his lifestyle conditions the quality of his work, so the quality of his work partly conditions the people's lifestyle.

Ah, I see you all agree, even you Fraulein Hochmeister, who is too good-looking to be highly moral. Your wisdom consists less in striving to emulate the wisdom of the great philosophers ... than in reducing the extent of your folly. Mine consists, on the contrary, in expanding my literary horizon towards the Infinite!