In his notebooks is this note: In order to catch even a fleeting glimpse of the world, we must break with our familiar acceptance of it. Is such a goal beyond our ability, beyond mine?
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This is our goal as writers, I think; to help others have this sense ofâplease forgive meâwonder, of seeing things anew, things that can catch us off guard, that break in on our small, bordered worlds. When this happens, everything feels more spacious.
Knowing how things are doesnât make you see them correctly, doesnât stop you from seeing things incorrectly. Stare at the image as much as you like, itâs all in vain. It will never surrender the truth, not to your naked eyes; you have to go in armed with a straightedge.
I couldnât latch on to a thought and then be carried by it as it moved into new territory. To do that, I think you need a narrative self inside you connecting you with experience, telling you how you fit into the subjective encounter with what youâre seeing and attaching whatever significance it might hold for you.
I am reminded of what Einstein said on the death of his friend: He has departed from this strange world a little ahead of me. That means nothing. For us believing physicists, the distinction between past, present and future is only a stubborn illusion.
M.K.: Even if Iâm the one speaking, my reflections are connected to a character. I want to think his attitudes, his way of seeing things, in his stead and more deeply than he could do it himself.