His soul stretched tight across the skies
That fade behind a city block,
Or trampled by insistent feet
At four and five and six o'clock;
And short square fingers stuffing pipes,
And evening newspapers, and eyes
Assured of certain certainties,
The conscience of a blackened street
Impatient to assume the world.
I am moved by fancies that are curled
Around these images, and cling:
The notion of some infinitely gentle
Infinitely suffering thing. - T. S. Eliot
And yet one arrives somehow, finds himself loosening the hooks of her dress in a strange bedroom— feels the autumn dropping its silk and linen leaves about her ankles. The tawdry veined body emerges twisted upon itself like a winter wind … !
"I was looking for “La Grande Bellezza” and I didn’t find it…This is how it always ends, with death. But first there was life, hidden beneath the blah, blah, blah. It is all settled beneath the chitter chatter of the noise, the silence and the emotion and the fear, the haggard, inconstant beauty and then the wretched squalor and miserable humanity…There, let this novel begin. After all, it’s just a trick. Yes, it’s just a trick."
"Garbo still belongs to that moment in cinema when capturing the human face still plunged audiences into the deepest ecstasy, when one literally lost oneself in a human image as one would in a philtre, when the face represented a kind of absolute state of the flesh, which could be neither reached nor renounced."
Now the temptation of the absolute mask (the mask of antiquity, for instance) perhaps implies less the theme of the secret (as is the case with Italian half mask) than that of an archetype of the human face. Garbo offered to one’s gaze a sort of Platonic Idea of the human creature, which explains why the face is almost sexually undefined, without however leaving one in doubt.
[…]And yet in this deified face, somethign sharper than a mask is looming: a kind of voluntary and therefore human relation between the curve of the nostrils and the arch of the eybrows; a rare, individual function relating two regions of the face. A mask is but a sum of lines; a face, on the contray is above all their thematic harmony. Garbo’s face represents this fragile moment when the cinema is about to draw an existential from an essential beauty, when the archetype leans towards the fascination of mortal faces, whent eh clarity of the flesh as essence yields its place to a lyricism of a Woman.
so we’ll live, And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh At gilded butterflies, and hear poor rogues Talk of court news; and we’ll talk with them too, Who loses and who wins; who’s in, who’s out; And take upon’s the mystery of things, As if we were God’s spies: and we’ll wear out, In a wall’d prison, packs and sects of great ones, That ebb and flow by the moon.
"The confusion and barrenness of psychology is not to be explained by its being a ‘young science’; its state is not comparable with that of physics, for instance, in its beginnings…for in psychology, there are experimental methods and conceptual confusion. The existence of the experimental method makes us think that we have the means of getting rid of the problems which trouble us; but problem and method pass one another by."