A Token Derangement of Senses preview

More documents

Recommendations

Info

“Wittgenstein”Alcebiades Diniz MiguelIf my name survives it will only be as the terminus ad quem of thegreat Western philosophy. The same, so to speak, as the name ofthe one who burned down the Library of Alexandria.(Ludwig Wittgenstein’s diaries, 7-2-1931)
Aflower of hatred blossomed in the guts of KlausManz, gunnery sergeant. An unsubtle flower — itscolors were so intense that some could say theywere like intense, luminous beams sprouted from thepetals without any recognizable source, as if they were notmere reflections of an internal light. Its perfume — asweetness scent, acrid and cloying, like the putrefactionstench —, on the other hand, was so intense that it couldbe smelled from meters away. And, like all of us,accustomed to savoring our sensations to the limits ofintoxication, Manz took considerable pleasure from thenotes present in the aroma of his hideous flower, distillingfrom it an even purer essence, materialized in a kind offury that could lead him to murder a man with his barehands, in cold blood. Such a cultivated feeling, however,had an indirect cause: the presence of young recruits fromthe Austro-Hungarian imperial army. The sergeant couldliterally smell some of them — the smell of wealth,idealism, patriotism — these last two probably instigatedby pompous teachers. He, Manz, who worked his wholelife in tanneries, relishing and holding up different formsof violence and abuse to survive since childhood, knewhow to recognize from afar the soft, delicate and pleasantsmell of the perfume that the richness exuded.
Page 2 and 3: A Token Derangement of the SensesIn
Page 4 and 5: Something must happen — and that
Page 8 and 9: A Token Derangement of the SensesDa

A Token Derangement of Senses preview

You also want an ePaper? Increase the reach of your titles

Delete template?

Save as template?