[站內] The Genesis of Language

看板Penpal作者gregorsamsa (姍傻)時間2年前 (2021/06/15 01:44)推噓1(1推 0噓 12→)

留言13則, 1人參與討論串1/1

筆名：Samsa 出生年次：1997 性別：Male, if you like 身分：slug 收件ID：same 通信方式：in-web ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- ★徵求筆友條件希望性別：unrestricted 希望年齡：unrestricted 希望身分：unrestricted 希望其他條件：none ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- ★個人自介(自我發揮空間，例如：興趣 / 喜好，最少寫滿100字) Having checked the regulations, I think I am not going to be bucketed with all this. Why not Chinese? Perhaps similiar to Beckett's case with English and French, the former being too acute. Myself far from a writer in any sense, Chinese is nonetheless too acute to confront directly. Beckett converts to French to "alienate" himself; I require English to distance from myself, and from your, as well as my own, gaze. Or else it is even impossible to type and post anything here. Believe it or not, it's necessity, not posturing of any sort. (Ironically when you use English you can hardly avoid using "I".) But do you find it awkward, or even worse--senseless at all? Anyway, it's totally fine with you to speak Chinese, and equally welcomed to use English as I do. And I dont bother to use Chinese if you demand. As far, is there anything important mentioned? I think not and the situation is doomed. However much amount of imformation seems all insignificant. What is one to say? What about? To whom? It seems kinds of conversation continue to go on, but communication remains permanent failure. What's the use then, of language? It is intuitive to think that the genesis of language derives from a striving or furstration to transcend our isolation to build some kind of connection. But things are not so easy, as are described in 《Waking Life》: "Because words are inert. They're just symbols. They're dead, you know? And so much of our experience is intangible. So much of what we perceive cannot be expressed. It's unspeakable." Is not the death of being the consequence of the birth of words? In order to memorize, to recall, I construct what was past through words, insipid and empty. Is not what can be regained merely the fading movement instead of what was present there? Or, can there be an original Language, which is one and all before the tower of Bable and subsequent punishment, and can be restored through translation between languagues and the day of its realization would be the re-ligion. Until now basically nothing is mentioned about the writer, and he doesn't intent to. Blanchot on friendship: "Vainly do we try to maimain, with our words, with our writings, what is absent; vainly do we offer it the appeal of our memories and a sort of figure, the joy of remaining with the day, life prolonged by a truthful appearance. We are only looking to fill a void, we cannot bear the pain: the affirmation of this void." It is purposeless to disclose myself which is nothing but a void. I know the above, and below, and even this self-censorship are all nonsense, ravings, and gibberish. It is almost shameless to confide like this, and it is absolutely wretched to display oneself in such an identity. God knows what propels me to do this, who do not believe in the efficacy of words. The whole thing would appear how ridiculous if it is accessed directly, and how shamelessly I pretend to be unaware of its absurdity. I apologize for the lack of organization and coherence, with the excuse that I have nothing to talk about in the first place. It comes to the end and let me be serious. One comes here because one gets disappointed by such thing as "messages", "texts", fragments of lines and unmeditated thought. I also sense that I am too lazy to be dedicated to organize an article. So let the great tradition of mail-writing and its legacies be restored from now on and communicate with patience and care! 請勿對自己外貌條件作敘述，謝謝 -- 卡夫卡的著作超出了權力的重重迷宮和條條死路，超出了那歪曲人、分割人的等級結構和官僚主義統治，並由此提出了那本身無過錯卻被判有罪的人的身分（或同一性）這一問題、提出了存在權這一問題、提出了存在這一歷險中所發生者本身的無辜性這一問題。 -Emmanuel Levinas -- ※ 發信站: 批踢踢實業坊(ptt.cc), 來自: 49.159.79.182 (臺灣) ※ 文章網址: https://www.ptt.cc/bbs/Penpal/M.1623692696.A.165.html

推

qwdqaq3321

06/15 13:52, 2年前 , 1^F

06/15 13:52, 1^F

→

qwdqaq3321

06/15 13:52, 2年前 , 2^F

06/15 13:52, 2^F

→

qwdqaq3321

06/15 13:52, 2年前 , 3^F

06/15 13:52, 3^F

Indeed, the author (is he qualified for the appellation of author?) keeps on saying that nothing has been said, but did he smuggle, indoctrinate something , or even deceive us exactly in the way? Did he disclose or conceal himself, disclose himself by concealment, or conceal himself by disclosure? Indeed, he appears so paradoxical, claiming that our attempts through language are necessarily failure, but seems to do the opposite; people here are with faith in words, but he insistently disclaimed their efficacy and warn of our dependence on them. Of course he can narrate all the "facts" about him, things he likes, what he has been through, the "objective information" that can be received right away. But do they amount to him? What is one to know? How can one agree to speak of a person? "Those who were closest say only what was close to them, not the distance that affirmed itself in the proximity, and distance ceases as soon as presense ceases, said Blanchot." What's demonstrated here is nothing but an episode. For sure, something of the author is reflected thus, but does it illuminate his obscurity, or rather, further obfuscate his identity (or the lack of it)? It seems to digress too far. Anyway, despite the distrust of words, we must not pass over the unspeakable to silence. This is the paradox, the demand of the impossible. ※ 編輯: gregorsamsa (49.159.79.182 臺灣), 06/15/2021 19:19:27

→

qwdqaq3321

06/15 23:20, 2年前 , 4^F

06/15 23:20, 4^F

→

qwdqaq3321

06/15 23:20, 2年前 , 5^F

06/15 23:20, 5^F

→

qwdqaq3321

06/15 23:20, 2年前 , 6^F

06/15 23:20, 6^F