And he was aware that at the end of any reasonably
long life, however monotonous it might have been, however anodyne and grey and
uneventful, there would always be too many memories and too many
contradictions, too many sacrifices and omissions and changes, a lot of
retreats, a lot of flags lowered, and a lot of acts of disloyalty, or perhaps
they were all just white flags of surrender. ‘And it’s not easy to put all that
in order,’ he had said, ‘even to recount it to yourself. Too much
accumulation…My memory is so full that sometimes I can’t bear it. I’d like to
lose more of it, I’d like to empty it a little. No, that’s not true…I only wish
it wasn’t quite so full.’ And then he had added some words which I remembered
well (ever since then they have kept coming back to me like an occasional echo,
or perhaps not that occasional): ‘Life is not recountable, and it seems
extraordinary that men have spent all the centuries we know anything about
devoted to doing just that…Sometimes I think it would be best to abandon the
custom altogether and simply allow things to happen. And then just leave them be.’
Javier Marias, “Your Face Tomorrow Volume 2 Dance and Dream”, Penguin Modern Classics, Μάρτιος 2018, ISBN: 978-0-241-28891-7, Μετάφραση: από τα Ισπανικά: Jull Costa – από τα Αγγλικά: αείποτε, Σελίδα 134.
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