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Posts Tagged ‘“Trip to the End of the Night”

“Trip to the End of the Night” by Ferdinand Celine (Part 2)

This French book, published in the early 1930’s, is basically a collection of autobiographical stories of a freshly graduating physician in his mid thirties who established his “clinic” in a poor working neighborhood in the suburb of Paris.

Celine (pen name) used to be called to pay visit to patients after sundown, and his medical tour will last till dawn, from a poor patient to another dying girl aborting in the room of her parents, because the parents refused to send her to the hospital for face-saving…

Celine volunteered  in WWI,  was caught in the machinery and couldn’t get out, and was able to flee to the USA and worked at the noisy and boring Ford factories in Detroit. He returned to France and studied medicine.

The followings are excerpts, not of the stories, but of the kind of statements that the living among miseries bring up in our mind and emotions.

The biggest tiredness of the living is this tremendous effort invested in looking “reasonable”, along the decades of our growth: Everything is justified as long as we never exhibit ourselves, as we are: vile, foul, atrocious, absurd…This long nightmare of presenting this little universal ideal, superman during the day, this sub-man that we inherited, handicapped from birth in so many ways…

It is a good feeling when we land in an unknown city: We can lure ourselves that the people are much nicer. It is good to dream that we can spare a few hours in the public park, ogling the young girls…

I noticed that people have a vast reserve for love, plenty of it in reserve, genuinely pitying the handicapped, the blind…

The trouble is that love in reserve is never invested, not early enough, not ever: It is blocked inside, serving nothing and nobody…This kind of love in reserve dies slowly, and is reduced to nothing: Inflation of hatred, contempt, self deprecation exhaust all the initial wealth in love, bottled up inside…

It’s astonishing how hard it is to figure out what may render a person, more or less, agreeable to others.  We really want to be of service, to be favorable, but we keep mumbling and blubbering…The first uttered words, and we are swimming in the vast sea, unable to swim. Al the unconscious distract you as you approach the topic of being friendly…

Detritus do not increase or last: They are decomposed one way or another.  It is mankind who keeps defecting, urinating through his half-decomposed body, and exacerbate this mess with conversations that are half-cooked and ill expressed

Our torture is imprisoned in a body, characterized by a specific foul nauseating odor, a particular trademark of every individual, his signature…And our molecules keep their unrelenting navigation, to getting out of our body and rejoin this universe of infinity…

What’s life after all, but a bit of light that ends in the dark? Most of our adventures and undertakings that counts to our heart are done mainly in the dark of the night: Shameful endeavors that we think the others don’t know or have the secret, and the details of our dark maneuvers…

Fear never does reply by a Yes or a No. All that fear does is to gather what we are thinking, all that we say, everything we do…Fear just control our emotions and our actions, unknown to our conscious mind…

Relocating your business has a single advantage: The time it takes for your clients to discover the best way to harm you, you are already enjoying a tranquil relative break from people’s harm.  It is this short period that is the most agreeable in relocating your living.  The best tactic is turning over from one side to the other in your bed…

The simple crazy and the one tortured by civilization (book review)

Dr. Baryton is confiding to Dr. Ferdinand about the case of their colleague Parapine:

“Parapine is an intelligent guy, though of a totally arbitrary kind of intelligence.  He refuses to adapt. He is not in his skin in his profession. He cannot suffer the current world civilization, and he is a highly tormented mind.

In my case, if earth starts to spin in the opposite direction tomorrow, all that I would do is sleep an additional 12 hours, and the day after will find me totally adapted to this new reality.

Not Parapine. He won’t accept this injustice: earth turning counter-clockwise! He will ruminate projects for ever and in bitterness and dejection. He will lose sleep, contemplating ways to return to the previous normal state of affairs.  One of his desperate alternatives would be to blow earth all together.

And the worst part of it is that Parapine will succeed in chattering earth to pieces…

There are simple crazies, and you have those crazies who are tortured by civilization.

Once, Parapine told me: “Between the penis and mathematics, nothing exists. It is the total void…” He is waiting impatiently for the advent of the”Age of Mathematics“.  A world of pure logic, completely governed and functioning by programmed logic…

I know Ferdinand that you are Not taking my story seriously, and you are damn wrong in your view of Parapine. I have already witnessed and treated the cold and hot delirium cases, and I know what I’m talking about…

I am someone largely uninhibited by words and sentences: Words don’t scare me.  In the case of Parapine, I am ready to be on my guard when he speaks.

Parapine extravagances are contagious and are terribly formidable in their originality. For the moment, Parapine case is an exaggerated conviction.

Particularly, those who speak of Justice are enraged people. Those “righters of wrong” are maniacal terrors. The same fatalist individuals who work on my nerves.

Last month, I received the case of an author who kept repeating “Liquidate…liquidate…” I told the family members that the problem is mainly physical in nature: there is a restriction in his bladder, and I had to empty his urine one drop at a time… The family insisted that his temporary insanity is due to his genius that hit him suddenly…

Go figure. Families refuse to pay for a condition related to rotting matters in suspension…The monetary reward must be linked to a genius condition…”

Baryton was no musician by any long shot: If he decides to quit his institution for the mentally sick and deranged, he will destroy everything in his path, like a bear, and vanish.  The requests of the rich families for Baryton to keep updated in modern technology, electrical, magnetic, resonance, lobotomy…any thing that fry the brain once for all…is driving his egoism for his liberty to desperation.

The families have dragged him deeper into the life of routine…

The end of the tragic story of mankind is a total lack of measure and moderation…

Note: Article onspired by a section in the French book “Trip to the end of the night” by Ferdinand Celine (a pen name)

“Trip to the End of the Night” by Ferdinand Celine

This French book, published in the early 1930’s, is basically a collection of authobiographical stories of a freshly graduating physician who established his “clinic” in a poor working neighborhood in the suburb of Paris.

Celine (pen name) used to be called to pay visit to patients after sundown, and his medical tour will last till dawn, from a poor patient to another avorting dying girl because the parents refused to send her to the hospital for face saving…

Celine volunteered in WWI and was caught in the machinery and could no longer escape this infernal absurdity.  He was able to flee to the USA and worked at Ford factories in Detroit. He returned to France and studied medicine.

The followings are excerpts, not of the stories, but of the kind of statements that the living among miseries bring up in our mind and emotions.

It is imperative to comprehend why we are so stubborn to refuse a cure for our solitude…We keep hiding from acquaintances. I recall the words of this young corporal, hospitalized during the war. He confided: “Earth is sick and dead, and we are fat decaying worms…All rotten since birth…” He was good enough to be carried by two soldiers to be executed by a firing squad: He was an anarchist as the War council decided…I didn’t know better at the time to take time and listen to these soldiers: I wouldn’t know how to ask the right questions anyway…

The old patient was saying: “I can’t feel my feet, I feel cold up to my knees. I can’t drink anything…I want to touch my feet but I can’t…” He was kind of half out of life, he couldn’t get rid of his lungs…He exhaled but air would come in anyway. Kind of his lungs relentlessly making him suffer to the very end. That’s a harsh job staying alive…He struggled as harder to stay alive as to die

Life is a special class of boredom and annoyances, and they are the eternal pions. Boredom is here all the time, spying on you, and you have to frequently look occupied, at any price…Masturbating is an excellent pass time: You are occupied and getting some pleasure.  Mostly, we would like to have an endless series of pleasure-like activities to survive the long 24-hour day. A day is really very long to surmount and suffer the ever ready presence of boredom…Even in our continuous boredom, we refuse to reflect on ourselves…Nothing very pleasurable here, self-reflection.

It is impossible to swallow truth, like the death of your lover, or the death of your kid…The more distant the lover, literally, the more you cannot communicate face to face, and smell the rotten flesh…You keep adding and heaping values, good traits and lies to the reality of love…It’s natural and regular this tendency, loving from afar…

The little people can claim to have lived, only if the manage to overcome this habit of blind obedience, inculcated in the brain since childhood, and they should vomit obeying the rich and the authority figures once for al.

The balanced youth is who can respect everyone with no discrimination whatsoever…How come we cannot find these kind of youth?

It is not relentlessness that we ever lacked, but how to be on the proper road that lead to a tranquil death. The worst case scenario is when death takes us by surprise, in between two hesitations…

War is ever ready to wake up and grumble, due mainly to the criminal boredom that gets the little people out of their confined caves…How many of the poor people should be sacrificed before they comprehend the humour of it?

Note: Read part 2: https://adonis49.wordpress.com/2012/08/26/part-2-trip-to-the-end-of-the-night/


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