Aphorisms

This month a new, revised, and slightly expanded edition of Simon May’s aphorisms is published: Thinking Aloud, from Alma Books. May (see page 343 of Geary’s Guide) is a fellow in philosophy at Birkbeck College, University of London. He was also co-organizer of the first meeting of the World Aphorism Organization in London last year. He is an expert on and fan of Nietzsche, from whom he picked up a few tricks in the art of writing aphorisms with philosophical twists. May is also the author of Atomic Sushi, a travel account of Japan. Below is a selection from Thinking Aloud, but first my favorite Mayism: “To succeed, one must question the value of one’s works, but never the value of one’s work.”

The better one knows someone, the harder it is to recognize them.

Modesty shields us from others, humility from ourselves.

Not all impatience is a vice, but all vices may be forms of impatience.

Few of our deep problems can be resolved; most must be outgrown.

Chance, like a lover, is one of those awkward things of which we must be simultaneously slave and master.

What cannot be taught always needs the greatest learning.

We can deeply love what we do not know, but we cannot deeply know what we do not love.

The Balkans is surely the most prolific place on earth for aphorists… Zoran T. Popovic was born in Sombor, Serbia, and now lives and works in Pancevo, near Belgrade. He’s been writing satire since 1986 and has published six books of aphorisms, including Organized Decadence (1994), Aphorisms and Other Tales (2002), and Connected Opinions (2004). In true Balkan tradition, Popovic’s aphorisms are filled with bitterness and bile, particularly in regard to politics and human nature. Yet these dark musings are ringed by a brittle satirical laugh that redeems things, but only a little bit.

Man is no longer an endangered species; even cannibals have switched to a healthier diet.

Sisyphus was promoted at work. He got a bigger stone.

Justice is on my side; the judge is my friend!

The condemned man’s last wish: Hang my lawyer!

I have only one fault: I am not perfect.

Gerald Stern is best known as a poet, and a teacher at the University of Iowa’s Writers’ Workshop, but in 2004 he published a book of aphorisms, Not God After All (Autumn House Press). In the introduction, Stern explains that he wrote the aphorisms over a period of about two weeks in the spring of 2002, quite a sustained period of spontaneous aphoristic combustion. “These aphorisms, petite narratives, whatever they are … represent my feelings during that time, feelings that were angry, arch, focused, political and unified,” he writes. “They also reflect both my reading and the sheer accident of my experience.” Once again, I thank the ever aphoristically alert Jim Finnegan (check out his blog, ursprache) for bringing Stern’s aphorisms my attention.

Walking down I don’t count the stairs
as I do when walking up.

If there was time I’d stop
saying good morning to Zeno.

There is no difference between
one whip and another.

What is more bloodthirsty and
oppressive, God or Country?

Peter Robinson (see pages 303–304 in Geary’s Guide; Peter also did some translations from the Italian for the book) is back with a new collection of aphorisms, Spirits of the Stair (Shearsman Books). Robinson’s first aphoristic collection, Untitled Deeds in 2004, was inspired in part by his experience teaching in Japan and in part by the euphemism-infested realm of public discourse. In the evocative language of the publisher’s blurb for Spirits of the Stair: “Finding weapons of mass destruction in the speechifying of politicians, and the toxicity of pension plan promises, feeling chilled by global warming, and hot under the collar, the poet found no other respite than to reach for his notebooks. What came from them were wrung-out dishcloths and acupuncturists’ needles, sound bites that chew on what they eschew, salves for old saws, and less-is-more morsels.” These aphorisms are savory slices of life, lip-licking slivers of literary sushi, delightfully delivered from only half-way down the stairs, from where they ring unerringly true. (Sorry for the purple prose, but that publisher’s blurb really got to me…) The current volume is an enlarged and extended selection, which includes all of the aphorisms from Untitled Deeds plus a lot more. Here is a seductive sampler, as chosen by Robinson himself:

In any evolving pattern or series it’s the elements that appear not to fit which will prove the most significant.

To hear the Christian Fundamentalists talk you’d think they were born again yesterday.

A charm offensive: an offensive charm.

The unexamined life is not worth living. The over-examined life is unendurable.

The aphorist’s palliative care: the relief of pain through the careful insertion of innumerable short, sharp needles.

By all means aspire to the stars, but try not to suck up to them.

I would ask the Churches if they couldn’t try to be a little more ecumenical with the truth.

Ah life: an aphorism waiting to happen.

Well, we’ve had God’s aphorisms, as seen on church billboards. Now it’s time for everyman’s aphorisms, as seen on signs hung in or outside places of business. Though some of these may be apocryphal, they all are pretty amusing…

At a gynecologist’s office:
Dr. Jones, at your cervix.

On a plumber’s truck:
We repair what your husband fixed.

On another plumber’s truck:
Don’t sleep with a drip. Call your plumber.

On an electrician’s truck:
Let us remove your shorts.

On a maternity ward door:
Push! Push! Push!

At an optometrist’s office:
If you don’t see what you’re looking for, you’ve come to the right place.

Outside a muffler shop:
No appointment necessary. We hear you coming.

In front of a funeral home:
Drive carefully. We’ll wait.

Doug Yonson alerts me to the aphoristic abilities of former Canadian Prime Minister Pierre Elliott Trudeau, who was once allegedly described by President Richard Nixon as an “asshole”; to which Trudeau is said to have replied: “I’ve been called worse things by better people.” This same wit is on display in Trudeau’s aphorisms, which Doug Yonson reports are memorably and widely known in Canada, and perhaps now elsewhere, too…

There is no place for the state in the bedrooms of the nation.

Living next to [the U.S.] is in some ways like sleeping with an elephant. No matter how friendly and even-tempered is the beast … one is affected by every twitch and grunt.

The essential ingredient of politics is timing.

Life is one long curve, full of turning points.

Canada is a country whose main exports are hockey players and cold fronts. Our main imports are baseball players and acid rain.

Luck is the time when preparation and opportunity meet.

I first blogged about the aphorisms of Gregory Gash and Aron Vigushin back in March; now they’re back, translated once again from the Russian by Aron Vigushin, with some biographical information and more aphorisms… Vigushin is a civil engineer-designer with some 50 years of experience. He discovered aphorisms early in life “as a convenient short form by which I could record my observations,” he says. “These aphorisms share my thoughts about family, friends and, most importantly, children and grandchildren. The purpose of their creation is to do everything in my power to ensure that children and grandchildren become better human beings and inherit more of our virtues and less of our vices.”

In response to budget cuts, the light at the end of the tunnel is being switched-off today.

Politicians resort to hysterics to be part of historic events.

Don’t be a small time crook, you’ll just end up in jail; be a big-time crook, you’ll make history.

The sign of a healthy nation is its ability to laugh at itself.

Gregory Gash was born in Minsk but has lived in Israel since 1992. In Minsk, Gash was also a civil engineer as well as a journalist, working for the newspaper Sovetskaya Belorussia (Soviet Belarus). He has published 11 satirical books, including You are Here, Not There and Epigrammy. He regularly appears on Israeli radio and television shows in Israel. In 1993, he won an epigram competition conducted on Russian TV.

Both aphorists and sculptors chop off all unnecessary parts.

Strong expressions compensate for weak arguments.

To give weight to nonsense, whisper it into someone’s ear.

People bump into each other so often because everyone follows their own path.

Biography: what really happened to a person. Memoirs: what the person wishes would have happened.

God created everything from nothing. We are busy doing the opposite.

Serbian aphorist Aleksander Cotric (see p. 30 of Geary’s Guide) sent me excerpts from Serbia’s Secret Weapon, a collection of Serbian anti-war aphorisms compiled by Slobodan Simi?. “These aphorisms are about the Balkan wars,” says Cotric, also a member of the Belgrade Aphoristic Circle portrayed in the film Goodbye, How Are you?, “wars that were happening in ex-Yugoslavia at the end of the 90s, but the consequences of those wars are still very present in this part of southeastern Europe.” Professor Zack Trebjesanin provides a kind of introduction to the volume, writing: “Aphorisms, just like the humorous, lucid slogans in the demonstrations against the dictatorial regime, were the best defence against the planned massive spread of madness through mythomania, exclusion and fervent hatred … I believe that short, meaningful aphorisms, mercilessly unmasking lies and stupidity, helped many people keep their spirit and a clear head.” Prepare to have your head cleared with a bracing dose of Serbian satire…

What kind of a patriot are you when you are not on the list of war criminals?! —Aleksandar Baljak (see p. 10 of Geary’s Guide)

Would you like the lesser of two evils? Let Serbs choose first. —Rade Jovanovi?

We did not die in vain. Our neighbours rejoiced. —Aleksandar Baljak

Every nation has a right to self-determination until self-destruction. —Slobodan Simic

I, too, would condemn the massacre of civilians, but I don’t want to take sides. —Vladan Soki?

These aphorisms are by Aleksandar ?otri?:

The crazy here are not imagining anything; they really are presidents, ministers, generals…

There was no wandering around. We started going the wrong way right from the beginning.

Sometimes they put people in front of tanks. That’s then called a parade.

There is light at the end of the tunnel. That’s our houses burning.

I first blogged about Aleksandar Krzavac’s aphorisms back in November of 2007; a fresh selection is offered below. Krzavac is a member of the Belgrade Aphoristic Circle and some of his sayings are featured in the film Goodbye, How Are You?, which I blogged about yesterday. In these aphorisms, Krzavac turns his clinical, jaundiced eye on the current political/moral/economic state of Serbia… As always with Balkan aphorisms, prepare to wince even as you smile…

We live virtually but die for real.

Morals make saints; breaking morals makes human beings.

Morality is a barrier between men and women.

They lift their foreheads so high in order not to see what’s happening on the ground.

Eternal vigilance leads to permanent insomnia.

As oil prices get closer to the maximum, the value of human lives gets closer to the minimum.

Imagine my chagrin when, three-quarters of the way through Goodbye, How Are You? (a.k.a. Aphocalypse Now), Boris Mitic’s superb “satirical documentary fairy tale” featuring the aphorisms of the Belgrade Aphoristic Circle, the following message appeared on my screen: “SKIPPING DAMAGED AREA”. At first, I thought this must be a reference to some dark episodes from Boris’s past, or perhaps to the Balkans itself, which Boris traversed during a three-year, 50,000 km-trip to compile the images for his film and which is still hurting from the 1990s wars. But no, it simply meant that there was something wrong with my DVD, so I have still not seen the end of the film, which somehow seems fitting for a documentary about forsaken hopes and damaged dreams…

Boris himself is most eloquent in explaining the background to his film: “An aphorism, as defined and practiced in Serbia, is a short, sharp, linguistically effective sentence or two which imperatively contains an unexpectedly subversive twist that describes in a most striking, clairvoyant way the hidden truth of some common social matters or states of mind. What makes Serbian aphorisms different from classic proverbs is their killer dose of black humor, satire and merciless sarcasm that still conveys a strong humanistic message.” Some examples from the film’s aphoristic narration, which braids together aphorisms from members of the Belgrade Aphoristic Circle with the tale of “a hero of our time who would die for what he believes in but doesn’t believe in anything anymore”:

When a boomerang leaves this place, it never returns.

The minister is taking the weekend off; that’s his contribution to fighting corruption.

They are taking a stick-and-carrot approach: First they beat us with sticks, and then with carrots.

We wanted to fight til the last man, but there were not enough of us.

At any given moment we know what we want, we just don’t know when that moment is.

The longer the war, the closer the peace.

Not only are the aphorisms great, but the collage of images that make up Goodbye, How Are You? are visual aphorisms in themselves, following all of the Five Laws of the Aphorism: They are short (each image lasts no more than a few seconds but achieves a startling effect by being juxtaposed with other, absurdly apt images); they are definitive (the vignettes are blunt and graphic—a tractor dragging a corpse down a street, a boy resting in an armchair as a village burns around him); they are personal (Boris’s unfailing eye for the surreal aspects of the real is evident throughout); they are philosophical (each image elaborates on the narrated text but also takes it off into different philosophical directions, such as the shot of statues of Snow White and one dwarf decorating a home that slowly pulls back to reveal a statue of the Buddha sitting beside them); and they have a twist (each and every image conceals an “unexpectedly subversive twist”, like the shot of a black cat who had its reputation for bad luck reversed when it got squashed on a busy street).

Aphorisms lodge themselves in our minds through their brilliant, startling imagery and subtle meanings; Boris Mitic’s film will lodge there for exactly the same reasons.