I believe that vicious people are the very unhappy ones. They constantly need food for their malice. Malice is the beast always hungry. It needs victims. And when we become free of that hunger, of that search for victims, so we can wreak our hatred on them, then we can say we achieved something that is called closeness to happiness. When Rosseau (Swiss philosopher, writer and composer) was in England he was hosted by his friend David Hume (Scottish philosopher, historian, economist and essayist). But Rosseau, as he was a vicious person, when he returned to France he slandered Hume badly. He talked about him in a very bad manner. Kind and wise Hume responded: “Poor Rosseau, he is the very unhappy man in this world. He will never have a friend.”
This is a great thought and we have often chance to remember it. It’s sad to see a vicious man. When he liquidates one victim, he instantly looks for another. He looks for an excuse for his own misfortune, because the vicious man is not a happy man.
This interests me extremely in the typology of our menagerie. There are people that are very introverted, they don’t speak too much, so we can’t ‘’read’’ them according to their words. Don Fernando says in Ciclope (R.Marinkovic – Kiklop/novel, 1965): ‘’Look at the man how he sits, how he stretched his legs, recklessly...and look at his eyes’’. There are people with vicious look.
We should watch people. And we should listen, but not what they say, how they say it. There are people that say things in a resolute manner like there’s no doubt that everything they say is so true. And there are those who maybe even say big truths, but somehow modestly, with inhibition and scepticism, always with some reserve, like ‘’maybe’’, ‘’methinks’’...
But those are not taken very well. It sounds that those are spineless types who at the time think something and then other times something else. And they think “ now something and other time something else’’ because they are not certain that all they think is exactly correct, but that it could be also something else, and that truths are not engraved in the ‘’live’’ stone for all times coming.
From Ptolemaeus to Einstein all the basic, so called ‘’great truths’’ about our world have thoroughly changed. Because of those truths, those relative truths, people lost their heads, they were burnt as witches, forced to banishment, ‘’katorga’’ prisons, to the painful ‘’inscriptions from the dead home’’...
And all that – for what? Because of the truth – temporary truth, that was valid only for one generation, the most (longest) for the century. So, how you wouldn’t feel sorry for a man, the victim of the unstable truths? However, human suffering is even greater and higher than the truth. That suffering is irreplaceable. It can never be reclaimed. Not only that it could not be reclaimed the life of someone who’s life was just taken away but also it is impossible to redeem, in any way, all that this man has suffered.
This is written somewhere deep into his personality, in his personal experience – like a trauma, like a wound which has indeed fully healed, but the scar remains indelible to the grandchildren, great grandchildren, great-great...And so, as the matter of fact, we should fantasize about one life, inhabited with people without scars, people with clear philosophies, I mean, with intellectual and spiritual integrities, without wounds, at least without wounds caused form the outside, from the other person or form the other structures...If the man needs suffering to be able to justify his own life, then it should be his own intimate, personal destiny, unobtrusive from outside’’.
Suffering is higher than the truth,
The uncheerful clown’s eyes / Essay
Globus Zagreb, 1986
(Translated by Darko Kotevski)
Patnja je viša od istine
Smatram da su opaki ljudi najnesretniji. Neprestano trebaju hrane za svoju pakost. Pakost je zvijer koja je uvijek gladna. Ona treba žrtve. I kad se oslobodimo te gladi, tog traganja za žrtvama, da bismo na njima iskalili svoju mržnju, onda bismo mogli reći da smo postigli nešto što se zove bliskost sreći. Kad je Rosseau bio u Engleskoj, njega je ugostio David Hume, engleski filozof, kao prijatelja. Ali Rosseau, budući da je bio opak čovjek, kad se vratio u Francusku, strašno je ogovarao Humea. Loše je govorio o njemu. Dobri i mudri Hume je na to rekao: Jadan Rosseau, on je najnesretniji čovjek na svijetu. Nikad neće imati prijatelja."
To je velika misao, a često imamo prilike da je se sjetimo. Žalosno je gledati opaka čovjeka. Kad likvidira jednu žrtvu, odmah traži drugu. Traži izgovor za svoju nesreću, jer opak čovjek nije sretan čovjek.
To me neobično interesira u tipologiji našeg zvjerinjaka. Ima ljudi koji su jako introvertirani, malo govore, dakle na riječima ih ne možemo pročitati. Govori don Fernando u Kiklopu: "Gledajte čovjeka kako sjedi, kako je ispružio noge, bezobzirno... I gledajte mu oči." Ima ljudi sa zlim pogledom.
Promatrajmo ljude. I slušajmo ne što govore, no kako govore. Ima ih koji govore tako rezolutno, kao da nema sumnje da je sve to istina što kažu. Ima ih, opet, koji izgovaraju možda i velike istine, a nekako stidljivo, sustezljivo, skeptično, uvijek s nekom rezervom, "možda", "čini mi se"...
No ovi slabo prolaze. Misli se da su kolebljivi tipovi koji misle sad jedno, sad drugo. A misle "sad jedno sad drugo", zato što nisu sigurni da je sve što misle baš tako, da može biti i drukčije, da istine nisu uklesane u živoj stijeni za sva vremena.
Od Ptolomeja do Einsteina sve su se osnovne, takozvane "velike istine" o našem svijetu temeljito promijenile. Zbog tih istina, tih relativnih istina, padale su glave, osuđivalo se na lomače, progonstva, na katorge, na čemerne "zapise iz mrtvog doma"...
A sve to – zašto? Zbog istine – privremene, koja je vrijedila samo za jednu generaciju, najviše za neko stoljeće. Pa kako ne bismo žalili čovjeka, žrtvu vrlo nestabilnih istina? Ipak, ljudska patnja je veća i viša od istine. Ta patnja je nenadoknadiva. Ona se ne može popraviti. Ne samo da se ne može vratiti život nekome kome je život oduzet nego ne može se ni na koji način nadoknaditi ono što je čovjek propatio.
To je zapisano negdje duboko u ličnosti, u njegovu osobnom iskustvu – kao trauma, kao rana, koja jest zacijelila, ali ostaje ožiljak neizbrisiv do unuka i praunuka i pra-pra... I tako, trebalo bi, zapravo, maštati o jednom životu, nastanjenom ljudima bez ožiljaka, s čistim fizionomijama, mislim, intelektualnim, duhovnim integritetima, bez rana, barem bez rana nanesenih s vanjske strane, od drugog lica ili od drugih struktura... Ako je potrebna patnja čovjeku da bi opravdao svoj život, neka to bude njegova intimna, osobna sudbina, nenametnuta izvana."
Patnja je viša od istine,
Nevesele oči klauna,
Nevesele oči klauna,
Globus Zagreb, 1986.
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