Aphorisms by Rabbi Rami

Rabbi Rami describes himself on his website as a “holy rascal”, and that seems to me a wholly accurate description. This rabbi’s aphorisms have something of Rumi and Khayyam in them, the whiff of incense mixed with the laughter of the spiritual trickster. Rami, an adjunct professor of religion at Middle Tennessee State University, teaches writing—specifically, aphorism writing—as spiritual practice in the university’s certificate program in writing and at Path & Pen, an annual writers’ conference held at the Scarritt Bennett Center in Nashville. Rami is one of only two other people I know of who teach aphorisms: One is a high school teacher who uses aphorism writing in one of her classes and the other is Sara Levine; you can find out how she uses aphorisms in teaching by watching her presentation at the 2008 aphorism symposium in London. Rami says the goal of his course is “to get people to notice and think about the power of brief writing in their daily lives; to understand how this writing is constructed and how/why it works; and to encourage students to create aphorisms of their own.” To see how Rami achieves all three of these goals in his own writing, read the selection of his aphorisms below. If you want more, as you surely will, follow Rabbi Rami on Twitter.

“Emotions are choices.” Just not ones you get to make.

“In reality nothing is born and nothing dies.” Stop wasting money on birthdays and funerals.

“The only way to see the whole is to step outside of it;” at which point, of course, it is no longer the whole.

Be willing to let anything happen, even if what is happening is that you aren’t willing.

If you think that it’s the thought that counts, try remembering your anniversary and then doing nothing about it.

Detachment is the key to enlightenment, but who cares?

“Don’t allow people to push your buttons.” Wear your clothes inside out.

The difference between being alive and being dead is being able to tell the difference between being alive and being dead.

The Demented Trumpet

On Monday, I finished the final draft of my next book, I Is an Other: The Secret Life of Metaphor and How It Shapes the Way We See the World (published by HarperCollins on February 8, 2011, since you asked…). Listening to the radio this morning, I was struck (the use of ‘struck’ in this sense is a metaphor, by the way; I was not physically assaulted while listening) by the conversation about the new tower, designed by Anish Kapoor, to be constructed in London in time for the 2012 Olympics. In discussing the object, the presenter and guests came up with all sorts of lovely metaphors, just as everyone who has talked or written about it over the past 24 hours has done. Kapoor’s design has been called

a demented trumpet

a twisted G clef

a sisha pipe, or Hubble Bubble

an arterial shape … with vaguely intestinal tubes

You can see a picture of the design here; feel free to send along your own metaphors for it.

The effort to describe this unusual building/sculpture is an excellent example of why metaphor is essential in daily life. We can only come to understand the unknown by comparing it with what is already known, and metaphor is the way we have invented to do this. The paradox and beauty of metaphor is that we can only comprehend what something is but describing what it is not.

Aphorisms in the latest issue of FragLit

The latest issue of the excellent FragLit Magazine is out and it includes aphorisms by Simon May and Daniel Liebert, both alums of this blog and of Geary’s Guide. FragLit is edited by Olivia Dresher, an accomplished aphorist herself. Here’s my current favorite from Mr. Liebert

Jugglers magically replace a moment with the same moment

one of the very few aphorisms about juggling, by the way, (for more from Mr. Liebert follow this link) and from Mr. May:

All ways home are a detour.

(for more from Mr. May follow this link). Grateful acknowldgement is hereby given to Olivia and FragLit Magazine.

Aphorisms by Gregory Norminton

Gregory Norminton describes himself as a “novelist and seated person.” From that sedentary position, he also writes really good aphorisms, which you can peruse on his aptly titled website How to be Awake. Norminton is a fan of E.M. Cioran and La Rochefoucauld and it shows (and I mean that in a good way): Their dark insights into the human condition glitter around the edges of these aphorisms. And like those two great aphorists, Norminton clearly feels no dismal truth is so bleak that it doesn’t also deserve a laugh. Whereas the laughter in Cioran’s sayings often sounds like a wracking cough from a graveyard, and the laughter in La Rochefoucauld is as sarcastic and mocking as it is hearty, Norminton’s laughter is genuinely jolly and a bit wisecracking. He describes his aphoristic agenda thusly: “Is it procrastination or literature? A bit of both, probably. Here you’ll find a selection of aphorisms as they ‘occur’ to me (i.e. once I’ve puzzled over every comma). Enjoy. And observe copyright.” I trust I will have strictly observed copyright while still offering a small selection of Norminton’s most profound procrastinations. Go to How to be Awake to read more.

The failure of extraterrestrial intelligence to contact us may well be proof of its existence.

We declare the person fascinating who listens to us longest.

What’s blindingly obvious cannot be looked at.

A better word for triumph is reprieve.

One day, the messengers of the world will rise up and shoot first.

If a truth falls on deaf ears, does it make a sound?

More Aphorisms by Aleksandar Cotric

Serbian aphorist Aleksander Cotric (see p. 30 of Geary’s Guide) is back with some Forbidden Thoughts, his new collection of aphorisms. Fellow Serbian aphorist Aleksandar Baljak says Cotric “securely occupies the pinnacle of Serbian satirical literature.” That’s surely correct; these sharp sayings are not for the faint-hearted… Cotric’s aphorisms can also be found in Serbia’s Secret Weapon, a collection of Serbian anti-war aphorisms (which seems to have taken its title from one of the aphorisms below) compiled by Slobodan Simi?. He is also featured in Boris Mitic’s delightful documentary about the Belgrade Aphoristic Circle, Goodbye, How Are You? The aphorisms below were translated into English by Mirjana N. Mataric (with occasional editing by me).

Our country is in transition: It is disappearing from the map.

Nothing should slow us down; that’s why we have not opened our parachutes.

Our destiny would have been in our hands but we didn’t want to get them dirty.

Hatred cannot explode from us; it is too deep.

We are using our heads—to break the wall.

Nobody knows anything; that’s our secret weapon.

Aphorisms by Mica M. Tumaric

Mica M. Tumaric comes from the anarchic, acerbic, antic aphoristic alembic that is the Balkans. Born in Novi Sad in 1949, he is a journalist by profession and, like most of his fellow Serbian aphorists, a satirist by vocation. His work has been translated into English, Russian, Hungarian, Romanian, Ruthenian, Slovak, Macedonian and Bulgarian, among other languages.

If you had to pay for stupidity, many would go bankrupt.

After all the doors opened, we were left with a draft.

The hungry have had their fill of promises.

He’s in great shape; he keeps running from the truth.

We struggled to gain freedom of speech; now we can’t get a word in edgewise.

Aphorisms by Patricie Hole?ková

Patricie Hole?ková is a Czech aphorist. Born in Slovakia, she studied at the Academy of Fine Arts in Kracow and has lived in the Czech Republic since 1982. Her aphorisms first appeared in the Czech anthology A Good Word Never Cuts to The Quick (2004). Her first collection, Aphorisms (Oftis), was published in 2005 and this year a new collection, Without Many Words, is due out. For more aphorisms, go to Patricie Hole?ková’s website.

I prefer the living thoughts of the dead as opposed to the dead thoughts of the living.

He who doesn’t have ideals idealizes whatever he has.

Some people have so much self-confidence that they can’t even be flattered.

We flatter ourselves the most when we say that we value sincerity more than flattery

Those who don’t pretend they’re smarter think they’re smarter.

A big mistake is to overlook the small one.

Only in disappointment do we realize how big our hopes were.

Young people have illusions about the future, old people about the past.

Aphorisms by Anna Fitch Ferguson

Jim Finnegan, proprietor of the ursprache blog, has done it again. He’s found yet another obscure yet fascinating aphorist, as he explains here:

“At a church book sale, I found a lovely little book—Bits of Philosophy: From The Letters and Journal of Anna Firth Ferguson (Concord, Mass.,1933)—written by a woman who lived much like Thoreau at Walden Pond; simply, close to nature, and with a similar urge to compose aphoristic and philosophic writings. From three short accounts of her life and ways, written by her friends in what looks to be a posthumously and privately printed book, I’m given to understand that Anna Fitch studied art in Boston, but early on left both Boston and the formal study of art. She had a cottage built near Concord, Mass, and there she gardened, raised vegetables and wrote. In 1902, she was married to Edwin Ferguson, a man of ‘delicate health’. Mr. Ferguson was a cleric, and after marrying they lived for a time in Washington state where he served a parish. However, after a short period in what was rugged country at the time, Edwin and Anna were forced by reason of his health to move to Colorado. There she bore a son. But in only the fourth year of their marriage, Edwin passed away, and Anna returned to Concord to live with her son in her cottage. In that cottage, which came to be called “Peace Cottage,” she spent the remainder of her life. A selection of the aphorisms:”

We give by being. One cannot give much until he becomes much.

One cannot take mental pictures of another without giving us a view of himself.

A condition for interchange is inter-need.

It is more difficult to live poetry than to write it.

We cannot find peace by building a floor over unanswered questions and living upon it.

A good moment appreciated comes again.

Better than a teacher is a desire to learn.

The first step towards knowing a thing is not knowing it.

We have left much rubbish at the door of truth, but none has got inside.

New Aphorisms by Daniel Liebert

Daniel Liebert (see pp. 292–293 of Geary’s Guide) is back with some new aphorisms. But not just any aphorisms; these are his own take on Ramon Gomez de la Serna’s greguerias. “As far as I’ve been able to ascertain,” Dan writes, “I am the world’s only writer of greguerias.” Dan defines greguerias as combining “aphoristic assertiveness, the punchline ‘kick’ of a one-liner joke, and the child-like delight in metaphor.” These and other of Liebert’s aphorisms are forthcoming in Fraglit, edited by Olivia Dresher.

Radio static is the lint of sound.

The high-diver pauses a moment to wind the spring in his buttocks.

A nun’s wimple is a bandage where her face was scissored from life.

Life evaporates and leaves memory salt.

Moths are shadows breaded with dust.

My morning piss hoses down the boulevards of sleep.

A stopped clock has arrived.

Lipstick on my cheek is the passport stamp at the border of Family.

New Aphorisms by Ramon Gomez de la Serna

Along with Malcolm de Chazal, Ramon Gomez de la Serna is one of the weirdest and most wonderful (and most woefully neglected) aphorists in the entire history of the form. Gomez de la Serna (see pages 370-371 of Geary’s Guide) died in the early 1960s, having written dozens of books and hundreds of so-called “greguerias“—his own peculiar form of the aphorism. A while back, Laurie-Anne Laget, a professor at France’s Sorbonne, discovered a cache of unpublished greguerias in some boxes deposited at the University of Pittsburgh by the writer’s widow in 1970. This article from the Latin American Herald Tribune tells the story, though sadly it does not name the book in which the new aphorisms appear: 400 Unpublished Gomez de la Serna Aphorisms Come to Light. (If anyone can track the title down, please leave a comment on this post!) Here are a few of Gomez de la Serna’s long-lost sayings… Once again, I thank the ever aphoristically alert Jim Finnegan (check out his blog, ursprache) for bringing this find to my attention.

Words are the skeleton of things and for that reason last longer than things do.

The water lily is a flower that escaped from the trees to navigate the waters.

Capitalist: a gymnast with many telephones.

An ironing board wears a striped undershirt.

Octopi are the gloves of the sea.

What does the moon do in a pond? It washes its face.