Rad note » this entry originated from another page. It was moved here because the subject drifted far enough to warrant its own, separate page, which also lets me reference more easily the concept under discussion here.
At the end of this entry (that you're reading now) I have included a link that will return you to the exact place from where this entry originated. Here ya go ...
» Rad vs Hemingway on the Key Factor Behind Dostoevsky's Genius
This however, might be a good place .. to mention where I disagree with Hemingway .. about his appraisal of the thing that "made" Dostoevsky .. the writer that he became. What was it that precipitated his genius?
Notice what Hemingway wrote »
» "Dostoevsky was MADE by being sent to Siberia. Writers are forged in injustice, as a sword is forged."
[Green Hills of Africa, p 71, 1935]
Which is certainly a credible position to adopt.
But I feel .. and I have felt this way ever since I was diagnosed with cancer ..
.. which can be viewed as a death sentence of sorts.
I feel that it was really » the mock execution that Dostoevsky experienced ..
.. that did it for him. Because it immediately brought him into the realm of » the existential ..
.. where the question of your very existence is brought into the spotlight of your conscious awareness .. your conscious thoughts .. because it is » threatened by a known killer. A well-known killer.
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And in this realm (this existential realm) you more easily » glimpses of eternity.
Much more easily .. without even trying. And where you can see things clearly that only minutes before were beyond even considering.
This existential realm of which I am speaking .. would be a cool place (perspective-wise) ..
.. if it didnt suck so bad.
Because your very existence is threatened and looks to be coming to an end ..
.. and this tends to carry with it a sense of anxiety .. a warning, so to speak, that the end approaches.
(And without the heavenly trumpet blasts that you might have been hoping to hear.)
Because that is what happened to me .. when I got the call. Hey, for all I knew, I might be dead in six months .. like mom and gramps were.
(You know how your mind can fuck with you as you lie awake late at night, unable to stop thinking.)
I could suddenly see things more clearly. Glimpses of eternity became visible. Many things suddenly became clear. Things that only minutes before were far from clear. [ Minutes before the call. ]
It's like you find yourself in a place, or like you walk into a room .. where you see things .. things that clear up things into your mind that you didnt even know needed clearing up.
A place that you would never volunteer to go .. and which you would gladly pay large sums of money to extract yourself from. If such a thing were possible.
But there you are anyway. And you cant un-see that which you have seen .. can you?
The end. ■
You can return to the exact spot from where this entry originated .. see » here.
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