An Imaginary Life
Hey Guys,
Just finished a great book by David Malouf called 'The Imaginary Life'.
Summary:
The Roman poet Ovid (who wrote 'The Metamorphosis'), in exile, tells of his experience losing all known culture, landscape, language, and the story of his encounter with a wild boy, brought up among wolves in the snow. At first the poet assumes the role of protector of the boy; gradually, however, the roles of protector and protected are reversed as the two form a curious and touching alliance.
A couple of my favorite passages:
'We have some power in us that knows its own ends. It is that that drives us on to what we must finally become. We have only to conceive of the possibility and somehow the spirit works in us to make it actual. This is the true meaning of transformation. This is the real metamorphosis... Our further selves are contained within us, as the leaves and blossoms are in the tree. We have only to find the spring and release it. Such changes are slow beyond imagination. They take generations. But it works, this process.'
'What else should our lives be but a continual series of beginnings, of painful settings out into the unknown, pushing off from the edges of consciousness in the mystery of what we have not yet become, except in dream... What else is death but the refusal any longer to grow and suffer change.'
Just finished a great book by David Malouf called 'The Imaginary Life'.
Summary:
The Roman poet Ovid (who wrote 'The Metamorphosis'), in exile, tells of his experience losing all known culture, landscape, language, and the story of his encounter with a wild boy, brought up among wolves in the snow. At first the poet assumes the role of protector of the boy; gradually, however, the roles of protector and protected are reversed as the two form a curious and touching alliance.
A couple of my favorite passages:
'We have some power in us that knows its own ends. It is that that drives us on to what we must finally become. We have only to conceive of the possibility and somehow the spirit works in us to make it actual. This is the true meaning of transformation. This is the real metamorphosis... Our further selves are contained within us, as the leaves and blossoms are in the tree. We have only to find the spring and release it. Such changes are slow beyond imagination. They take generations. But it works, this process.'
'What else should our lives be but a continual series of beginnings, of painful settings out into the unknown, pushing off from the edges of consciousness in the mystery of what we have not yet become, except in dream... What else is death but the refusal any longer to grow and suffer change.'






