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A review by mlautchi
The First Century After Beatrice by Amin Maalouf
5.0
It would be laughable, would it not, to ask if it was I who was growing old, or History, but the answer still does not seem clear to me. 161
Convinced also - but at the time we did not calculate the full implication of our attitude - that as children of the North, the privileged ‘haves’ and former colonisers, we had no right to lecture the people of the South. 162 or 164
Very few were capable of seriously contemplating questions which would only be asked in fifteen or thirty years’ time; the majority preferred to leave them as a poisoned legacy to the ones who would have the arrogance to success them. 165
All things considered, life had not attacked everything I had built up. It had simply given the frail structure a little jolt. Just sufficient for it to remain a life. 176
.. he was considered the cleverest on the research time, but also the zaniest, an absurd combination which attracted her from the start. 177
I was back to normal, that’s life, (178) when you commit yourself to love, you make no provision for the parting. 179
.. already, in the last century, there were all the pre-indications of chaos; the cities which crumbled, one after the other, the nations which disintegrated, the absurd retreat towards past millennia, the expulsions, the encapsulations. 171
The past century provided with a hundred examples of societies which suddenly went mad. You took care to feel sympathy, but you got used to it, the world still spun screaming around in its course; too bad for those left behind, those sucked down in the quicksands, those out of breath from running. History was in a hurry, it could not stop to share in the bitter suffering . . . but where was History going then? With what was its rendezvous? And on what date? … People insist on treating History as a river flowing peaceably through flat countryside, racing wildly in hilly terrain, and here and there tumbling over a waterfall. And what if its bed is not hollowed our in advance? And what if it is unable to reach the sea and it loses its way in the desert, in a maze of stagnant marshes? 172
.. and even of ordinary people, terrified of the future. 173
Even today, when we know much more about the origins of the troubles which have afflicted the planet, how many people still refuse to consider the peoples of the South as victims, and only retain two images of them: those migrant multitudes, very close at hand, too close to us; and, in the distance, those crazed hordes, determined to destroy a world (173)
Here, in the North, we only feel a backlash of the troubles; let us spare a thought for those who experience the direct impact. Let us think of those countries where no one dares venture anymore, shut off from the outside world, fragmented into tribes set desperately at each other’s throats in their common distress, abandoned by the best of of their sons, surviving like weed among the ruins. And, on the horizon, more ruins. 174
Another millennium finished, say the stones, just one more. 174
In the countries which receive them [migrants], many talk of an invasion; but what’s to be done, you don’t cast a shipwrecked man back into the sea. 175
But such were the naive, shameful, petty illusions of my contemporaries; and yet they were legitimate, as are all instinctive reactions for survival. 175
‘Is this really a good century to be born in?’ 179
Love, as a form of escape, an embrace as an ultimate argument, pleasure by way of suspension of further talk, could I complain of this way of changing the subject? Clarence was always able to win my body over to her cause; my thoughts would calm down until morning. 180
Clarence and History, two characters in my life, often in collusion; but one of of extreme lucidity, the other from extreme blindness. 181
.. and all the old disquiets of the last century. 183
But comparisons hide as much as they reveal, the century of Beatrice is similar to (183) no other, even if, here and there, some of its horrifying characteristics, seem like those of the past. 184
What would I have said if people still listened? That our ancestors had their share of guilt? That we have an overwhelming share? That poverty is as bad a counsellor as wealth? That salvation must be for the whole planet or not at all? That. . .
But that language is no longer appropriate. Where one is powerless against leprosy, one attacks the leper, one builds walls to quarantine him. Century-old wisdom, century-old folly. 186
She said this to me with so fresh, so radiant a face that she finally convinced me that everyone needed a fall before starting on the second stage of their lives. Individuals, societies, and the species also. Perhaps this is the price we have to pay before we can get our second wind. 160
I slept little, and without desire. 140
Tragedies are to history what words are to thought, you never know if they are its cause, or simply its reflection. 143
People came to regret the time when the North was divided, and, in order to attack one of the great powers, you had recourse to the sponsorship of the other, its weapons and its jargon. 148
.. what was to linger long in our memories, was the impression the whole world gave of being helpless and disoriented, as if History had suddenly begun to gabble an incomprehensible language, a language resuscitated from another era, or landed from another planet. 148
After what I have just written, dare I add that the miseries of the world have very nearly led me to the place where I wished to end up in? 187
.. for nothing in the world would I have blocked her field of vision. 187
.. perhaps, by thus moving away, we might be able to preserve our lucidity, the ultimate dignity of dying. 188
Formally I tend to let people, especially those closest to me, follow their own bent; respect for others, even their aberrations, has always been a religion for me. 189
I had to get away, urgently. I had to get away to find serenity. When I was protected from people, perhaps I would learn to love them again. 189
I am still unable to say whether , at any given moment, the course of destiny could have been changed (…) I still remain perplexed. Was everything that happened unavoidable? I think not,I still think other paths existed . . . I often think of those lost futures (..) Then, in the space of one walk, I build a different world. 191
I shall lean for support against some familiar oak tree. 192
.. I shall, for one moment, have the most precious illusion: the world, such as I knew it, will seem like an ordinary nightmare, and my dream-world will take on an appearance of reality. I shall believe in it again, a little more every moment. 192
.. we had met, chatted, whispered, embraced, clung to each other, made love unhurriedly but without wasting time as if we had fixed this date since the dawn of civilisation. We were both in love, delighted, incredulous, suddenly mischievous adults trespassing in a children’s paradise. I know, from having observed all species, that love is merely a ruse for survival, but it is sweet to close your eyes to this.
Everything in this affair seemed miraculous to me, all-embracing and instantly definitive. 21
I had another motive, which, at that time, I would have been unable to detect, but which today seems obvious and clear: I think that throughout our friendship, I ‘planted’ seeds in André’s mind, in the way one dumps a load, or drops a seed on familiar ground. In his lead, nothing was lost, everything progressed, and when I met my idea it had grown roots and branches; often, too, it had been refined to the point where I no longer recognised it. 40
‘We are not guests on this planet, it belongs to us as much as we belong to it, its pasts belongs to us, as does its future.’ 47
Who will throw the first stone? Are the causes of other people’s sleepless nights any more significant? 63
She fell silent, searching for words, or for some image fresh in her memory. 68
We lived in this way, not as husband or wife, not a conventional couple, or concubines . . . What terrible words! We lived as lovers, with living giving us all we could wish for, were it not for the physical wear and tear of age, were it not, also, for the upheavals in the world. 82
‘.. but immediately afterwards I reason with the world, saying: we must suffer the world as it has suffered us.’ 84
Convinced also - but at the time we did not calculate the full implication of our attitude - that as children of the North, the privileged ‘haves’ and former colonisers, we had no right to lecture the people of the South. 162 or 164
Very few were capable of seriously contemplating questions which would only be asked in fifteen or thirty years’ time; the majority preferred to leave them as a poisoned legacy to the ones who would have the arrogance to success them. 165
All things considered, life had not attacked everything I had built up. It had simply given the frail structure a little jolt. Just sufficient for it to remain a life. 176
.. he was considered the cleverest on the research time, but also the zaniest, an absurd combination which attracted her from the start. 177
I was back to normal, that’s life, (178) when you commit yourself to love, you make no provision for the parting. 179
.. already, in the last century, there were all the pre-indications of chaos; the cities which crumbled, one after the other, the nations which disintegrated, the absurd retreat towards past millennia, the expulsions, the encapsulations. 171
The past century provided with a hundred examples of societies which suddenly went mad. You took care to feel sympathy, but you got used to it, the world still spun screaming around in its course; too bad for those left behind, those sucked down in the quicksands, those out of breath from running. History was in a hurry, it could not stop to share in the bitter suffering . . . but where was History going then? With what was its rendezvous? And on what date? … People insist on treating History as a river flowing peaceably through flat countryside, racing wildly in hilly terrain, and here and there tumbling over a waterfall. And what if its bed is not hollowed our in advance? And what if it is unable to reach the sea and it loses its way in the desert, in a maze of stagnant marshes? 172
.. and even of ordinary people, terrified of the future. 173
Even today, when we know much more about the origins of the troubles which have afflicted the planet, how many people still refuse to consider the peoples of the South as victims, and only retain two images of them: those migrant multitudes, very close at hand, too close to us; and, in the distance, those crazed hordes, determined to destroy a world (173)
Here, in the North, we only feel a backlash of the troubles; let us spare a thought for those who experience the direct impact. Let us think of those countries where no one dares venture anymore, shut off from the outside world, fragmented into tribes set desperately at each other’s throats in their common distress, abandoned by the best of of their sons, surviving like weed among the ruins. And, on the horizon, more ruins. 174
Another millennium finished, say the stones, just one more. 174
In the countries which receive them [migrants], many talk of an invasion; but what’s to be done, you don’t cast a shipwrecked man back into the sea. 175
But such were the naive, shameful, petty illusions of my contemporaries; and yet they were legitimate, as are all instinctive reactions for survival. 175
‘Is this really a good century to be born in?’ 179
Love, as a form of escape, an embrace as an ultimate argument, pleasure by way of suspension of further talk, could I complain of this way of changing the subject? Clarence was always able to win my body over to her cause; my thoughts would calm down until morning. 180
Clarence and History, two characters in my life, often in collusion; but one of of extreme lucidity, the other from extreme blindness. 181
.. and all the old disquiets of the last century. 183
But comparisons hide as much as they reveal, the century of Beatrice is similar to (183) no other, even if, here and there, some of its horrifying characteristics, seem like those of the past. 184
What would I have said if people still listened? That our ancestors had their share of guilt? That we have an overwhelming share? That poverty is as bad a counsellor as wealth? That salvation must be for the whole planet or not at all? That. . .
But that language is no longer appropriate. Where one is powerless against leprosy, one attacks the leper, one builds walls to quarantine him. Century-old wisdom, century-old folly. 186
She said this to me with so fresh, so radiant a face that she finally convinced me that everyone needed a fall before starting on the second stage of their lives. Individuals, societies, and the species also. Perhaps this is the price we have to pay before we can get our second wind. 160
I slept little, and without desire. 140
Tragedies are to history what words are to thought, you never know if they are its cause, or simply its reflection. 143
People came to regret the time when the North was divided, and, in order to attack one of the great powers, you had recourse to the sponsorship of the other, its weapons and its jargon. 148
.. what was to linger long in our memories, was the impression the whole world gave of being helpless and disoriented, as if History had suddenly begun to gabble an incomprehensible language, a language resuscitated from another era, or landed from another planet. 148
After what I have just written, dare I add that the miseries of the world have very nearly led me to the place where I wished to end up in? 187
.. for nothing in the world would I have blocked her field of vision. 187
.. perhaps, by thus moving away, we might be able to preserve our lucidity, the ultimate dignity of dying. 188
Formally I tend to let people, especially those closest to me, follow their own bent; respect for others, even their aberrations, has always been a religion for me. 189
I had to get away, urgently. I had to get away to find serenity. When I was protected from people, perhaps I would learn to love them again. 189
I am still unable to say whether , at any given moment, the course of destiny could have been changed (…) I still remain perplexed. Was everything that happened unavoidable? I think not,I still think other paths existed . . . I often think of those lost futures (..) Then, in the space of one walk, I build a different world. 191
I shall lean for support against some familiar oak tree. 192
.. I shall, for one moment, have the most precious illusion: the world, such as I knew it, will seem like an ordinary nightmare, and my dream-world will take on an appearance of reality. I shall believe in it again, a little more every moment. 192
.. we had met, chatted, whispered, embraced, clung to each other, made love unhurriedly but without wasting time as if we had fixed this date since the dawn of civilisation. We were both in love, delighted, incredulous, suddenly mischievous adults trespassing in a children’s paradise. I know, from having observed all species, that love is merely a ruse for survival, but it is sweet to close your eyes to this.
Everything in this affair seemed miraculous to me, all-embracing and instantly definitive. 21
I had another motive, which, at that time, I would have been unable to detect, but which today seems obvious and clear: I think that throughout our friendship, I ‘planted’ seeds in André’s mind, in the way one dumps a load, or drops a seed on familiar ground. In his lead, nothing was lost, everything progressed, and when I met my idea it had grown roots and branches; often, too, it had been refined to the point where I no longer recognised it. 40
‘We are not guests on this planet, it belongs to us as much as we belong to it, its pasts belongs to us, as does its future.’ 47
Who will throw the first stone? Are the causes of other people’s sleepless nights any more significant? 63
She fell silent, searching for words, or for some image fresh in her memory. 68
We lived in this way, not as husband or wife, not a conventional couple, or concubines . . . What terrible words! We lived as lovers, with living giving us all we could wish for, were it not for the physical wear and tear of age, were it not, also, for the upheavals in the world. 82
‘.. but immediately afterwards I reason with the world, saying: we must suffer the world as it has suffered us.’ 84