Today’s pages (p64-70) concern Victor Frankl’s attitude to fate. He believed that destiny will run its own course, and his only responsibility was to his own conscience.
One day, Frank’s name appeared on the list for transportation to a ‘rest camp’. The other prisoners were all convinced that this was nothing more than a euphemism for ‘gas chamber’, but Frankl did nothing to get his name crossed off the list – even when the camp’s chief doctor told him he only had to ask.
I told him that this was not my way; that I had learned to let fate take its course. … He shook my hand silently, as though it were a farewell, not for life, but from life.
Continue reading “The Victor Frankl 5-a-Day Book Cult: Day 12”
Today’s pages (p60-64) start with the observation that, in the desperate fight for survival, the inmates could easily lose the feeling of being an individual with ‘inner freedom and personal value’.
He thought of himself then as only a part of an enormous mass of people; his existence descended to the level of animal life.
Victor Frankl notices that the inmates started to behave like sheep, when herded from one place to another by the guards.
[W]e, the sheep, thought of two things only – how to evade the bad dogs and how to get a little food. Just like sheep that crowd timidly into the centre of a herd, each of us tried to get into the middle of our formations.
Continue reading “The Victor Frankl 5-a-Day Book Cult: Day 11”
What makes such a place eerie?
- A place, like this, unfamiliar.
- The only human sounds are far off shrieks, and you’re hemmed in by the screams of insects.
- Everything is coated in a layer of dust.
- Discarded cigarettes, feathers and condoms.
Continue reading “Daily Dérive #2: The Museum of Parkaeology”
I recently finished reading Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy and was struck by the philosophical wranglings of the character of Levin, particularly in the final book.
Some readers might write Levin off as a bit of a prig, especially in contrast to the wild passions of the eponymous female hero, but I find his incessant naval-gazing appealingly familiar.
In this blog post, I’ll pick out Tolstoy’s line of argument that takes Levin from the torment of existential doubt to the clear certainty of his purpose in life. Continue reading “The Limits of Rationalism: The Existential Journey of Levin in Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina”
The air is cool, but the sun is hot. I can smell that smell of hot stones and gasoline, sweet rotting rubbish, atomising flowers, or charring meat. It’s what my nose knows as the southern Mediterranean.
A man tidily dressed in a cotton shirt and trousers sits down beside me. He’s looking around like he’s lost a friend. He yawns ostentatiously. His beard is frizzled with grey and white. A toddler cackles and runs toward and away on the flagstones. Continue reading “Daily Dérive #1: Agios Panteleimonas ~ Exarcheia”