Philosophical Notes on Nadja

I finished Nadja by André Breton yesterday and am somewhat still digesting it. It is pretty out there in literary style, but it was not nearly as difficult in reading Hopscotch by Julio Cortázar. But there were stylistic similarities - the most notable of which were the various asides that the main characters had when you weren't sure if they were speaking or using interior monologue. I wish I had read Nadja first because I think that it would have helped me read Hopscotch. But, I'll read a couple more Surrealist novels before I reread Hopscotch and hopefully that will make the hopscotching reading of Hopscotch a little easier. But, that is neither here nor there.

Philosophical Concepts:

"What I must have ceased to be in order to be who I am" (Breton, 11). This idea of renunciation or to put it in economic terms, the opportunity cost of becoming who you are by ceasing who you were was just a fascinating thought for me.

"I strive, in relation to other men, to discover the nature, if not the necessity, of my difference from them" (Breton, 13). In this we see Breton struggling to discover once again who he is, by comparing himself to others to see who he is by negation. He is not the other by necessity.

The slope facts and the cliff facts that Breton references on page 20 is interesting to think about. Here he has a hierarchy of facts, some of which only he can be the witness of and others he flatters himself that he possesses the full details. But, some of those facts deny a person rational acknowledgement and it is only by "our very instinct of self-preservation to enable us to do so" (Breton, 20). Breton seems to state that some facts are so inescapable, so brute and thus, so horrifying that we can only escape them through a matter of self-preservation.

Breton has some interesting views on the moral value of work. "I am forced to accept the notion of work as a material necessity, and in this regard I strongly favor its better, that is its fairer, division. I admit life's grim obligations make it a necessity, but never that I should believe in its value, revere my own or that of other men" (Breton, 59-60). To Breton, work is a means to an end, a necessary evil. The only good that can come from work is the material gains that come from it, not the character that it can provide.

"But it's so easy to return slowly toward the Rue Lafayette, the Rue du Faubourg Poissoniere - to begin by going back to the very spot where we were" (Breton, 74). Interestingly, after leaving Nadja at her door where he discovers that she is at the extreme limit of the surrealist aspiration, he questions what now? So he goes back to where he was; to begin again anew. I'm not sure if this is to repeat the cycle, or if it is an act of cowardice.

"Unless you have been inside a sanitarium you do not know that madmen are made there, just as criminals are made in our reformatories. Is there anything more detestable than these systems of so-called social conservation which, for a peccadillo, some initial and exterior rejection of respectability or common sense, hurl an individual among others whose association can only be harmful to him and, above all, systematically deprive him of relations with everyone whose moral or practical sense is more firmly established than his own?" (Breton, 139). This is such a scathing rebuke of Breton's societal surroundings about prisons and mental health professionals. Madmen are made in the madhouse. Criminals are made in the prison system. And, what's worse, its done systematically. It's not an accident. The system is tragically flawed and will always produce those results. In spite of Breton writing in 1928 France, the same still stands here in 21st century. The criminals are hardened in their reforming prisons. Criminals are made in the prison system.

"The most absolute sense of love or revolution...involved the negation of everything else" (Breton, 153). This is a very true thing. Love and revolution require total commitment to the cause. That said, I find the surrealist touch here a bit interesting. There seems to be an equating going on between love and revolution as if they are one in the same.

"But that is the way of the world, isn't it, the outer world, that is - a matter of sleep-walking" (154). Again the surrealist applies the opposite of reality. The outer world is the sleep-walking world. Does this mean that the inner world, the world of sleep and dreams is the world of awareness?

The Hegel quote in the end is interesting: "each man hopes and believes he is better than the world which is his, but the man who is better merely expresses this same world better than the others" (Breton, 159).

Some things I liked stylistically in Hopscotch

As I've stated earlier in this blog, reading Hopscotch was quite difficult and since I've only read it in the 'traditional' way and still have to hopscotch through it, I'm withholding my final judgment until then. After hopscotching through it I'm also going to do some research to help me understand some of the more difficult parts. Some of it is lost on me. For instance, I'm really unsure of how baby Rocamador died and am hoping that some of the 'extra chapters' reveal the answer. Second, chapter 34 was the most insanely frustrating chapter of a book I've ever read, but after the fourth reading I sort of figured it out.

But, here are some of the things I really liked from a pure style standpoint in the book. The following short list has just some of the things I labeled as "Good Imagery, Wording & Style". There is a whole lot more that could be added but these stood out to me at the time of reading.

1) [We] "used to get together to talk to a blind seer, a stimulating paradox" (Cortázar, 6). I just liked the 'blind seer' paradox and it being pointed out. Somehow the pointing out of the paradoxical nature of it wasn't overkill or stating the obvious.

2) Those that search, those “who go out at night with noting in mind, the motives of a destroyer of compasses” (Cortázar, 7). I like the idea of those who are searching with an openness in their head aren't really searching in the normal sense, but looking to smash the conventional ways of searching for that which I know not what.

3) “As if it were some sort of mean and sticky vengeance” (Cortázar, 10). I just really liked the sentence a lot. 'Mean and sticky vengeance' just hopped off the page and gave me a visual and tactile image in my head.

4)  “Happiness must have been something else, something sadder perhaps than this peace, this pleasure, a mood of unicorn…” (Cortázar, 13). Again, I just really enjoyed this phrase, 'a mood of unicorn' denotes something like a childlike happiness, but also the realization that it, like the unicorn was a myth.

5) In my own writing, I've often had characters or scenarios where alcohol has played a part. I've always struggled with writing that because I don't want to give it a technical feel or a celebratory feel unless it's right for the current story. But in a couple of passages, Cortázar was able to once again make a great visual in my head that connected the story with some experiences that I'd like to incorporate into my own work:

[Gregorovius] “was at that vodka level where the night began to become magnanimous and everything promised him fidelity and hope… With his wits ajar Gregorovius managed to make out the corner where Ronald and Wong were selecting and passing records” (Cortázar, 43-44). I really liked that first sentence and how it showed what alcohol can do. Of course the night did not turn out how Gregorovius thought it would, as is often the case when vodka levels get to that point because the vodka level often rises and surpasses that point too and begins to careen downwards in spiral fashion rather quickly in the opposite direction of hope.

Then later, towards Babs: “Sh, darling, stop crying, the girl has really tied one on, even her soul smells of cognac” (Cortázar, 198). In this sentence, I'm not really sure who the narrator is, but 'even her soul smells of cognac' gave me as the reader, a knowledge of Babs' current state.
 

6) When La Maga & Horacio parts ways he feels he cannot chase back after her. He tells himself, “Go home and read Spinoza. La Maga doesn’t know who Spinoza is…She will never suspect that she has condemned me to read Spinoza” (Cortázar, 96).  I loved this sentence so much because of my feelings on having to read Spinoza back in college. To be condemned to read Spinoza is a perfect way of putting what it was like to have to read Spinoza for me all those years ago. 

Brief thoughts on Hopscotch by Julio Cortázar

So, I finished Hopscotch a few days ago and I'm still a bit bemused. Finished might not be the proper word as I only read it in the 'normal fashion' and didn't hopscotch through the book. Also, I ignored the following chapters with a clean conscience, but a bit of residual puzzlement. On my Goodreads page I wrote, "I'm not sure of what I think of this book yet. It's clearly a well written book with a lot of good stuff in it and it's jam packed with insane literary style, but I've just finished reading it the traditional way and will withhold my final judgement until I have hopscotched my way through it. Since, I haven't read the "extra" chapters I find myself both enjoying and not enjoying this book. But, I will be re-reading it or reading it for the first time soon and hopscotching my way through."  So I will revisit my assessment on the entirety of the book at a later date. I will say this, without giving away anything, the ending is confusing.