On the Heights of Despair

[Dr. Zirk]

After reading TL's comments about E. M. Cioran in various interviews, I became inspired to read his first book, On the Heights of Despair. It's a hoot, and full of sentiments that strongly echo TL's own world view. Par exemple:

"Is it not tragic to be man, that perpetually dissatisfied animal suspended between life and death? I'm weary of being a man. If I could, I would renounce my condition on the spot, but what would I become then, an animal? I cannot retrace my steps. Besides, I might become an animal who knows the history of philosophy."

This little bon mot is from the essay Total Dissatisfaction. Even in translation from the original Romanian, On the Heights of Despair is well worth a read. I'd be curious to know if any other TLO members have dug into Cioran?

	TLO THOMAS LIGOTTI ONLINE

[bendk]

I have read quite a bit of Cioran's work. I consider him one of my favorite writers. Arcade was supposed to publish his NOTEBOOKS on September 1st, but Amazon.com still has it listed as a pre-order. I haven't read all of his books yet, and the ones that I have, I should read them again more deeply. I would describe him as a dark poetic aphorist/essayist. I like what TL said in his AKLO interview with David Tibet:

Tibet: E.M. Cioran?
Ligotti: One of the very few with whom I agreed on the bottom line of human life - that everyone is equally insane and equally doomed.

I pretty much agree with that statement; insofar as, we are all deluded to a certain degree. Although, I have to admit to finding elaborate delusions more unbecoming. That he should make that statement to Tibet is amusing. Tibet is a talented artist, but I can't get through one of his Durtro e-mails without wincing. In one of his last e-mails he assured us "There is no death." Well, geez, thanks Dave, and to think I was worried.

I have been meaning to reread TL's story "Medusa." He called it his 'Cioran story.'

[matt cardin]

For a number of years I knew of Cioran from the excerpts and aphorisms I had read in a an anthology of pessimistic and nihilistic writings. Then a couple of years ago somebody sent me a copy of Cioran's THE TROUBLE WITH BEING BORN. It arrived at just the right time in my life to hit me powerflly and deeply. I still haven't finished it, because the mood in which Cioran's writing is comprehensible to me -- which means the mood in which I feel identified with his outlook -- only comes over me fleetingly and sporadically. But it's a powerful and memorable experience when it does, and it seems to transform the pages of his words into open windows to the void. I've spent the last couple of years absorbing THE TROUBLE WITH BEING BORN in this slow and intermittent fashion. I assume I'll finish the book some day.

Some months ago I chanced across a translation of ANATHEMAS AND ADMIRATIONS in a second-hand bookstore and bought it without hesitation. I'm not very far into it, but like the former book, this one is proving rewarding.

Aside from the emotional and intellectual interest inherent in Cioran's writings on their own, I've discovered that I find his work compelling because each time I read some of it, I recognize vividly the parallels with, precursors to, and catalysts for Ligotti's work that are strewn throughout it.

[Dr. Zirk]

Thanks to Matt and bendk for the thoughts on E. M. Cioran.

Quote Originally Posted by bendk";p=&quot

I have been meaning to reread TL's story "Medusa." He called it his 'Cioran story.'

"Medusa" is actually one of TL's tales I had been meaning to go back and re-read, and bendk's note prompted me to do so. I didn't know TL considered it a "Cioran story," but having now read a bit of Cioran's stuff, the connection is obvious to me right away.

"Ah, to be a thing without eyes. What a break to be born a stone!"

TL's fictionalization of Cioran's ideas is genuinely impressive. Thanks to bendk for pointing me in the direction of this interesting connection.

[eldritch00]

Never read any Cioran myself, other than a handful of Web articles about him, but I have to say that I've also been thinking about revisiting (uh oh, that doesn't sound like a good term to use, so let me nervously point out that I mean "rereading"! :lol: ) "The Medusa" as well. But then, I'm still going through Notebook of the Night and "Eye of the Lynx" as well...

[Earthwizard]

Well, just recently joined the forums....


Been reading Cioran for a number of years and have always found his lyrical cynicism of the void to be an inspiration. I've always loved the story of how he used to go to the little cafe in Paris where Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir used to hold there daily combats with their followers. Cioran would sit to the side, alone, listening; and, would from time to time get up and light the cigarette for Simone. No one ever thanked him or noticed this little man dressed in his tweed-woolen jacket with his thick set of blond hair and brilliant if sad eyes. Yet, he learned the fine art of solitude in the midst of crowds that he so cherished from this episode. He resolved from that time forward never to become a success, or to gain the kind of fame that such men as Sartre had gained in false measure by losing themselves in their vain pursuit of worldly recognition. Instead, in book after book, he lived alone with his mate in a small tenement where he broadcast his revulsion of the modern world till the day he died.
A couple of the essays I've written on him below:

E.M. Cioran: The Delusions of our Sadness

Cioran's Revenge: The Triumph of Failure

Enjoy the ride!

[gveranon]

Quote Originally Posted by Earthwizard

I've always loved the story of how he used to go to the little cafe in Paris where Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir used to hold there daily combats with their followers. Cioran would sit to the side, alone, listening; and, would from time to time get up and light the cigarette for Simone. No one ever thanked him or noticed this little man dressed in his tweed-woolen jacket with his thick set of blond hair and brilliant if sad eyes.

I find this a little bit amusing. Surely Simone de Beauvoir must have noticed that a little man in a tweed-woolen jacket kept lighting her cigarettes? Well, maybe not. Simone de Beauvoir not noticing someone giving her a light dovetails perfectly with the following story about Sartre on fire not noticing someone putting him out. This is from Guy Davenport's "Seeing Shelley Plain," an essay on literary anecdotes from The Geography of the Imagination:

". . . I have assisted in extinguishing Jean-Paul Sartre when he was on fire. Pete Maas and I, in our salad days, were at the Deux Magots of an evening. 'Guy,' said the affable Pete, 'that old wall eye over the way put his lit pipe in his jacket pocket awhile ago and in just a bit will be in flames, wouldn't you say? Go tell him.'

"We tried out various phrases, selecting Monsieur, vous brulez as the most expressive. Pete is a more forward person than I, and it was he who went over, begged the pardon of Sartre, and told him that his jacket pocket was on fire. Nothing happened. The conversation raged on, arms flailing, Existentialism as thick in the air as the smoke from Sartre's confection. Sartre did not deign to notice Pete, though Pete ventured a polite tug at his sleeve. Nor did Monsieur Camus or Monsieur Richard Wright give the least heed. Whereupon I offered Pete our carafe of water, and this he poured into the philosopher's pocket, which hissed."