Tag Archives: The Book of Disquiet

Mondays with Pessoa: Bernardo’s Lament

He remembers a sense of several lives passing through the one. Beyond the torture of impatient youth, of fearful ignorant youth, beyond the common pains, all of his lives seemed to converge on the quivering edge of—not promise, not yet … Continue reading

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Monday with Pessoa (and Duchamp)

  Art is a mirage —Marcel Duchamp We manufacture realities [p 66] Art lies because it is social [p 226] —Fernando Pessoa What do Bernardo Soares of The Book of Disquiet and Marcel Duchamp, the man often said to be … Continue reading

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Monday with Pessoa: Who Are You, Reading Me?

I am like the sun shining on a cold day. You will not see me or feel me for I have already died. And if I have properly discovered the truth of consciousness then you only experience me through your … Continue reading

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Monday with Pessoa: The Double Dream

I wanted to record some notes on todays’ Pessoa reading which has taken the form of a poem. The notes, it seemed to me, should stand separately from the poem, as they are not intended for those who don’t care … Continue reading

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Monday with Pessoa: Two Players

To think or to feel? Or what third thing among the stage-sets in the back? –Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet A mover of volatile parts, placid between harsh light and dream shadow, indifferent to one as to the other, or … Continue reading

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Monday with Pessoa: Bernardo Alone

Sadly I write in my quiet room, alone as I have always been, alone as I will always be. * we, the self-aware actors, are also our own spectators, our own gods…. – Fernando Pessoa as Bernardo Soares, The Book of … Continue reading

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Monday with Pessoa (and Stevens and Rilke)

No matter how much we take off what we wear, we’ll never reach nakedness, which is a phenomenon of the soul and not of removing clothes. —Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet, p 221 It has always been my particular madness … Continue reading

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