Racine Bérénice

Je n’écoute plus rien, et pour jamais, adieu.
Pour jamais! Ah! Seigneur, songes-vous en vous-même
Combien ce mot cruel est affreux quand on aime?
Dans un mois, dans un an, comment souffrirons-nous,
Seigneur, que tant de mers me separent de vous?
Que le jour recommence et que le jour finesse
Sans que jamais Titus puisse voir Bérénice,
Sans que de tout le jour je puisse voir Titus?
Acte IV, scène 5

The modernism defined

Funny guys sometimes yell motherfucker and lots of other clichés, curse words, to each other! After their sudden and intense outbursts they look abashed.

In French classical literature there is a famous play about the alleged motherfucker Hippolyte. That's a tragedy by Racine called Phèdre, dated 1677. It's about the human nature, thoughts, longing, inner monologues - unfortunately true understanding is missing in the dialogues between the main figures. Everything seems to be perfect, but still the ghost of the bottomless tragedy knocks on the door, and they let it enter into their hearts. How come? What abominable consequencies eventually!

The play is a modernistic work in my opinion and the content is applicable to the relations of many. It is an excellent showcase to learn a lesson or two. That's why sharing.

Don't irritate the Gods, to revenge our unfair thoughts and actions they may create a Hell around us!

What is love really?

The play ‘Phèdre’ on verse by Jean Racine contains a plausible description of love. I always think on and memorize that majestic tragedy applicable to the lives of so many. We will, in my opinion, only learn from tragedies! Another splendid, but quite different, example of love is ‘The Lover’ by Marguerite Duras. Love is, in my mind, an instant consciousness and open-ended, unprejudiced. It’s part and parcel of our eyesight. Love has, in my opinion, nothing to do whatsoever with the reflexive consciousness and mutuality.

I’m talking of my own true feelings, not of the roles we can always choose to play in our daily life or in the theater of life.

We can always choose to play various roles in our daily life or in the theater of life. We pretend. But sometimes life catches up on us.

Reference: See the book 'The existance and the liberty' by J.P. Sartre.