The Ultimate Wisdom
Philosophers
must ultimately find
their true perfection
in knowing all
the follies of mankind
- by introspection.
Abreast
He who aims
to keep abreast
is for ever
second best.
The Untenable Argument
My adversary's argument
is not alone malevolent
but ignorant to boot.
He hasn't even got the sense
to state his so-called evidence
in terms I can refute.
Thoughts On A Station Platform
It ought to be plain
how little you gain
by getting excited
and vexed.
You'll always be late
for the previous train,
and always in time
for the next.
- Piet Hein, Grooks 2
From the back cover:
His grooks (in Danish: gruk, a name of his own invention) are short aphoristic poems....
Piet Hein began writing them during the Nazi occupation of Denmark. They were, quite literally, underground literature - Piet Hein was in hiding as a resistance leader. Soon becoming effective weapons of the resistance, they enabled Danes to talk to one another about what really mattered in a range just beyond German understanding and several octaves beyond Nazi sensibilities. This play of multiple meanings survives in later grooks.
Grook-writing is just one dimension of Piet Hein's creative life. He is the "compleat creator," not subject to the schizoid art versus science malady of modern times. The inventor of grooks is also the author of the superellipse - the "rectangular oval" used in the new Stockholm city center, a delight of mathematical art. He worked with Niels Bohr and served as his "mental ping-pong partner." He has published poems, fiction, and essays, patented optical devices, painted pictures, and built mobiles. And all grew out of the same urge, by the same process.
How explain the creative process? Says Piet Hein: "The creative process is in formulating the problem. Once that is done in the right way, it's all routine tablework. The problem is solved."
I finally got to some yard sales today. Books for FIVE CENTS!!!! And the guy kept saying, "I'll throw this one in for you, we just want to get rid of them."
*drool*
This could have turned out worse than it did. Fortunately, most of the books were trash, so I only took home four bags and a box full of books. (eep!)
Among my treasures:
7 Stories, by Morris Panych (a play I produced and performed in a few years back)
Night, by Elie Wiesel
The Undiscovered Self, by C. G. Jung
Great Documents of Western Civilisation, collected by Milton Viorst
Poems of Robert Service
Time Travellers Strictly Cash, by Spider Robinson
The Dispossessed, by Ursula K. LeGuin (I read this when I was very young, and had no idea what to make of it. I believe it will go down better now that I'm older.)
I'd like to get into Night real soon, but I think I ought to read something a little lighter first. My latest novel was The Word for World is Forest, by U. K. LeGuin, and it was good (as always - I want to have her babies), and easy to read (maybe six hours over two days), but... shall we say not one hundred percent cheerful. I'm beginning to notice a theme in her books. One would almost think that she had been deeply affected by some sort of genocide or holocaust.... *feigning ignorance* Or perhaps both? *wan and weary smile*