Zibaldone

by Leopardi, Giacomo

  Nothing absolute. —See the previous thought, in particular pp. 3498–99 margin, in which it is shown that neither man nor any living creature desires even happiness absolutely, but relatively, and only if it accords with its own nature, and is required by its particular way of being, etc., and insofar as it is such, etc. Nor does it desire something, or take pleasure in hoping for it, merely because it is happiness, if it does not accord with its way of being, etc.1 However, in one sense we might say that man does desire happiness absolutely. See p. 3506. He does not desire this or that happiness, if it does not accord with him, and in having to desire this form of happiness, he can only desire that which corresponds to and is proper to his own way of being. But happiness absolutely and indeterminately considered, if he does consider it thus, cannot not be craved by him, that is, inasmuch as it is simply happiness.2 —What would there appear to be that we could discuss in more absolute terms than the length and duration of a given amount of time which is measured precisely by the clock, and is divided [3510] perfectly even into the most minute parts, not only by means of thought but with the instruments for that purpose, and almost as though it were matter, and these parts are counted and gathered, and their number is known with the certainty that comes from arithmetic? Now, it is absolutely certain that the length of the selfsame amount of time is truly longer to some and shorter to others, and to one and the same individual may be, and is, at times longer and at times shorter. Hence it may be said, with truth, that the selfsame given amount of time now lasts longer, now less long to one and the same individual, and longer to some and less long to others. Let us leave aside time that is passed in doing nothing, boredom, discomfort, pain, and similar things and is perceived to be longer than that same or another equal space of time which is gainfully employed, delightful, spent in distractions and the like,a and this to one and the same individual, or to different individuals of only one kind at one and the same time, or at different times. Leaving this aside, then, it should be noted that to the animals who live less than man by their nature, to those who live at most thirty years, twenty, ten, five years, [3511] one year only, several months, one month only, several days only (for there are in fact animals corresponding to all these differences in terms of duration, and hundreds and thousands of other intermediate ones); to these animals, I repeat, a given amount of time truly is longer and lasts more than it does for man, and the more so, the shorter their natural life is; and the idea that each of them forms and acquires naturally of the duration and quantity of any such amount of time, is absolutely greater than that which man conceives, and greater in exactly inverse proportion to the ordinary length of their life. And if it is true, as “they say, that in the river Hypanis in Scythia there are certain small animals, among whom those which are born in the morning and die in the evening are the oldest and die burdened with children, grandchildren, great grandchildren and years, in their own way” (Genovesi, Meditazioni filosofiche sulla religione e sulla morale, Meditation 1, “The Pleasure of Existence,” section or article 12, Bassano, Remondini, 1783, p. 26.1 See from the end of article 11 of the Meditation); [3512] if this, I repeat, is true (and it may well be,a and if not of those small animals then of others, visible or invisible, and if not, the same may be said of those which are certainly known to live but a few days), it is quite certain that the idea which these animals form and naturally acquire of the duration and quantity, e.g., of half an hour of time, is so much greater than our idea, that we cannot even conceive by how much. And truly half an hour lasts indefinably longer for them than it does for us, given the rapidity of their actions, sensations, passions, and happenings, the very swift succession of these, one after the other, the inconceivable speed of their development, the rapidity, so to speak, of their life and existence; and given that they, in half an hour, in a minute, live and exist, we may say, far more than we or the other, more long-living animals in the same space of time do; and their existence in one minute is truly of a greater quantity, intensity, etc., than ours is in the same space of time, and which we cannot even imagine. The opposite may be said of the idea that men naturally must have had of the duration and quantity of a given amount of time, when [3513] their natural lives were very much longer than they are at present; and in due measure, the idea which nations (if there are any) where people ordinarily live longer than we do, must have (as there are certainly some where people live less, and reach maturity very early, that is, in hot climates like South America, where the women marry at the age of 10 or 12 years (see p. 3898), and among the Orientals, etc., and on this subject see Arrian’s Indica, ch. 9, §§ 1–8; and see if Pliny has anything, etc.);1 and of the idea which longer-lived animals than man have of it, such as the elephant, deer, crow, tortoise, to which animal, very slow and lazy in all its operations, nature gave, not so much long life as many, many years. And I say not long life, because given the slowness of its movements and actions, which is matched by that of its natural increase and development, etc., and of all its nature, it lives and exists in a given space of time rather less than man does in the same space. And the same may be said in proportion of the other animals which are longer-lived than us. And from these observations we may gather that the sum and quantity of life, and therefore the [3514] duration and length of the same, are generally and roughly equal in effect among short-lived animals and beings as they are in long-lived ones1 and intermediate ones, and no less, and vice versa. Hence the duration of one same space of time is naturally and generally2 and constantly, save for the various circumstances mentioned above of the life of one and the same species and individual, such as boredom, pleasure, etc., which vary the idea and feeling of the duration, etc., but always within limit and proportion and in respect of the idea of this duration, proper in particular to the species by its nature, etc., greater for some and smaller for others, etc., and cannot be determined, etc., or judged absolutely in the way that we do, etc. (24 Sept. 1823.)

  Transito as, from transeo–transitus [to go over or across]. See Forcellini under Transitans [going or passing through]. Today this verb is common to us, and I still find it in modern Spanish, and I believe also in French. But in all three languages it is more the kind of term typical of newspapers (quite useless) than a word worthy of the language, etc. (25 Sept. 1823.)

  For p. 2984. Vieil [old], from veculus like oeil [eye] from oculus, oreille [ear] from auricula or aurecula (corruptly), etc., vermeil, vermiglio and vermejo [vermilion, bright red] from vermiculus or vermeculus, etc. Sommeil [sleep] is certainly the diminutive somniculus taken in the positive sense, like somme [nap, snooze] from somnus. But the diminutive sense is retained [3515] in sommeiller [to doze] which comes from somniculare as our sonnecchiare does in Italian, and which serves to confirm the derivation of sommeil from somniculus. Appareil [equipment]; apparecchio, apparecchiare [to prepare, lay the table], sparecchio [to clear away, to clear the table], etc.; aparejo [preparation], aparejar [to get ready] reflect a positivated diminutive form appariculare for apparare [to prepare] (like misculare for miscere, [to mix] on which see elsewhere [→Z 2280–81, 2385–86, 3182]), appariculus [preparation] for apparatus; words unknown in good Latin but common to the three daughter languages. See the Glossary, etc. (25 Sept. 1823.) Parecchi [several], pareil [same], whence appareiller [to pair] are from pariculus, etc. See the Glossary, etc. parejo [equal] (that is, par [equal]) parejura [equality], etc. Pelleja [skin], pellejo [skin], pellico [dress made of skins or furs]; pelliccia [fur]; pelisse [cloak made of or lined with fur]; modern Spanish pellìz [fur jacket] from pellicula [small skin or hide], etc. Spanish also has the positive form, piel [skin, fur, leather, peel]. Semilla [seed]. Soleil [sun]. Ouaille [little sheep] from ovicula [little sheep], etc., like oveja [ewe] in Spanish.

  To what I have said elsewhere [→Z 980–81, 2358] regarding occhio [eye] and ojo, formed regularly from oculus and not from ocus, as might seem to be the case, it should be added that oeil too clearly comes from oculus (see previous page), and could not come
from ocus. Add again to what I have said on this subject, that from somniculosus, as well as sonnacchioso and sonnocchioso we have also sonnoglioso and sonniglioso [drowsy], with the cul changing to gli as in vermiglio, which comes from vermiculus, for which too see the previous page, and periglio [danger] from periculum, and coniglio (conejo) from cuniculus [rabbit]. Hence the Spanish diminutives in illo, from iculus. (25 Sept. 1823.) We also have sonnoloso.

  [3516] Axilla [wing; armpit] was an antiquated word from the time of Cicero, and was replaced by ala (see Forcellini under Axilla, under X, etc.). Antiquated in speech and in learned writing. Now the people continued to keep this form, with the result that they passed it on to us, and we still commonly use this Latin word which had already fallen out of use in Cicero’s time. Ascella, aisselle [armpit]. You can say the same of maxilla [cheekbone, jaw] (mascella, mexilla), which too is found used by later writers, but this must have been quite inelegant. Ala and mala which in Cicero’s time were more recent and common than the others with this meaning, nowadays, as the others have persisted, are quite lost in these meanings. (25 Sept. 1823.) By contrast, palus [pole] has remained, paxillus [peg] has been lost; velum [cloth, covering, curtain, sail] has remained, vexillum [military ensign] is no more than a poetic term for us, etc.1 (25 Sept. 1823.)

  Testa [head] is used for all types of coccia [shell], like those of fish, hence in Latin the tortoise was called testudo, etc. This confirms my speculation elsewhere [→Z 32] regarding the origin of saying testa, that is coccia, to mean head. This name began to be attributed to the skull, and is a very natural metaphor or metonymy, etc.2 See Forcellini. (25 Sept. 1823.)

  [3517] For p. 3412, end. However, it is equally certain that a society capable of an enduring republic can only be slightly or averagely corrupt, that an utterly corrupt society (such as modern society) is absolutely not capable of any other enduring state than virtually absolute monarchy, and that being only absolutely capable of absolute monarchy, and being incapable of an enduring free state, is a sure sign of a wholly corrupt society. In this way the two extremes, that is, primordial society, to which no state other than monarchy is proper and wholly depraved society, to which only absolute monarchy is proper, are apparently reconciled. With the difference that the latter is not remotely capable of any other enduring state, whereas the former was, and that in the latter only an absolute, that is, despotic, monarchy is able to endure, while in the former such a monarchy could absolutely not endure—but what was proper to it, rather, was a monarchy that was certainly full and complete, but not absolute or despotic, a monarchy where the king was lord of all, and his subjects no less free. Moreover, if it is [3518] a proper characteristic of both primordial and the most corrupt society that both should be monarchic by nature in terms of government, this is not the only heading under which things human are seen to return to their first principles after a long circuit and very many different errors. And having reached the end of their course (as it appears that they have done), or the more so the closer they get to the end of it, they find themselves largely with the same effects, and in the same place, state, and being as they were at the start of it. But for reasons which are quite different and contrary to those at that time. Hence, these effects and this state are much worse when they return than beforehand, and if and where they were good and fitting to human society and social happiness to begin with, they are dreadful when returned to, and at the end, etc.1 (25 Sept. 1823.)

  Superiority of nature over reason, of habituation (which is second nature) over reflection. —My panic fear of all types of explosion, not merely dangerous ones (such as thunderclaps, etc.), but those too with no shadow of danger (such as festive gunfire, etc.), a fear which possessed me strangely and invincibly [3519] not merely in childhood but in adolescence,1 when I was well able to reflect and to reason, as indeed I did, but not so as to release myself from that fear, even though all reason showed me that it was quite irrational. I did not believe that there was any danger in it, and I knew there was no danger and nothing to fear, but I was no less afraid than if I had known and believed and reflected on the contrary (see p. 3529).2 Nor could reason or reflection release me from this most irrational of fears, because it was nature that caused it in me. Nor certainly was I among the dullest and most unreflective of people, nor one of those who live least according to reason, and feel its force least, and are least accustomed to reason, and who follow instinct or the natural dispositions most blindly. Now, that which neither reason nor reflection were in any way able to achieve in me against nature, nature itself and habituation were able to do in me instead, and they were able to do so against reason itself and reflection. For as time passed, indeed within a short space of time, being forced on a certain occasion to hear such explosions from quite close range and repeatedly, I came to lose that most stubborn and innate fear, to such an extent that not only did I find pleasure in what [3520] previously and for no reason had been a source of great loathing and fear for me, but I stopped being afraid, and even started to like what, in its own kind, I ought by reason to have been frightened of. Neither reason nor reflection, which previously were unable to release me from my natural fear, were able subsequently or have yet been able to make me fear or even not love what by nature or habituation, irrationally, I love and do not fear. Nor am I even, as I have said, one of the more unreflective persons, nor do I fail to reflect on this matter when the occasion arises, but in vain to conceive a fear which is no longer natural to me. What I say regarding myself, I know for certain has occurred and does occur to thousands of others every day, either regarding just one of these parts, or both. —What reflection is unable to achieve in any way, lack of reflection can and does achieve. (25 Sept. 1823.) See p. 3908.

  Three stages and conditions of old age compared with youth and other ages.1 (See p. 3846.) (1) When mankind was virtually uncorrupted, or at least inclined and generally accustomed to virtue, and when experience taught the individual things which were useful for himself and others, without disabusing him of honest ones, and virtuous, noble, magnanimous inclinations, [3521] etc., and when it did not show him the perversity of men, who were not yet perverse, or disgust him and make him repent of virtue, which, if nothing else, was not yet harmful, and which by his natural disposition he had undertaken to pursue from the outset, and indeed did pursue—at this time, since the elderly were richer in experience and wiser, they were more venerable and venerated, more estimable and held in greater esteem, and even in many ways more useful to their peers and companions and to the body of society than young people and those of other ages were. (2) Human society having begun to be corrupted, and such corruption having reached the halfway point, or further, experience must have accomplished quite the opposite of the things described above, and in destroying the good natural dispositions, and the qualities contracted in the early years, must have made the individual that much worse in terms of character, mind, customs, qualities, actions, or desires, the more experience he gained. So at this time, old people were much less estimable and held in lower esteem in society at large in terms of virtue and honesty than young people, etc.; much nastier, more shameless, [3522] dissembling, underhand, cunning, treacherous, wicked basically, alien from doing good, and harmful, or inclined to do harm to their companions or society. Whereas those of other ages, and in particular young people, were much worthier of esteem and much more useful or less harmful, because they were less corrupt, much more good because they were more natural, more fit to do good, more merciful, more beneficent, because less cold, more generous as a result of the nature of their age, less spoiled by example and bad precepts, or not yet spoiled, etc. (3) After the corruption of society had passed the halfway point by some margin, and once it had peaked, so to say, at the point where it stands and remains today, and where it apparently will remain for some time or forever, there was, and indeed is, no need for much lengthy experience or many bad examples for the good nature and primordial temperament still existing in individuals to be corr
upted. Men are born already corrupt, so to speak. The primordial has disappeared almost entirely from the world, and with it virtue and every kind of effective goodness. In a very short space of time the young person, indeed even the child, is mature and even old in terms of malice, [3523] fraud, wickedness, and knows the world a great deal better than the old people themselves did in the past, etc. Hence for quite opposite reasons and with quite opposite effects (see pp. 3517–18), things returned almost to their original state. Young people in particular are much more odious and harmful than the elderly, because in them the full disposition and decisive will to do ill is complemented by the power and ability to do it, and youthful ardor, and the strength, impetus, and flower of passions, which at one time directed men toward good, now, in directing him straight, fully, and decisively toward ill, make individuals that much more wicked, pernicious, and despicable, the greater this ardor is. Whereas the elderly are, I will not go so far as to say more estimable and venerable, but more tolerable, and less to be hated and avoided than those of the other age, as they have less power to do ill, although they incline only to that. And because they are also less desirous to do harm and to do good to themselves and ill to others, for they are colder, calmer in their passions and, as a result of long experience, with fewer illusions [3524] about the pleasures and advantages of this life, and have become less greedy, and have less intense desires—the coldness and experience which at one time were the root of all ill and wickedness having now become not so much the cause of good or goodness, but of less ill and less badness than the natural warmth and inexperience which previously were the main causes of goodness and which are now the cause of greater villainy. From the outset, then, old age compared to youth (and in due proportion to the other ages as well) was like better compared to good; subsequently, like bad to good; and now, finally, it is (and probably always will be) like less bad to bad, or like bad is to worst.