Absence: amor fati

by Peter Macsovszky


Absence: amor fati

She would be such, there would be no need to write about her. The

writing would only be about writing about her. (Like now?)

She would be the subject of my only writing. My only writing would have

to proceed impersonally.

She would be such, there would be no need to use the paradigm verbs

“must” and “need not” in writing about her.

She would be one of the themes of my only writing about the beings of

her sex. (However, that sex would only be grammatical.)

She would give rise to interpretations that would push her into the

realm of pure fiction or metaphor.

She would be such from the first moment.

She would be a real metaphor but only if someone — a person possibly

squeezable into what we designate by the personal pronoun “I” —

would guide her through the bridge of transcription.

She would be, of course, an ambiguous metaphor: its metaphorised

presence, enchanted into script, would not clarify in the least whether

the writing was about a higher or a lower thing.

She would really be enchanted, and therefore: there would be: a castle,

a knight, a dragon. Perhaps what we call “I” could be that knight.

(Unlikely.)

She would be a manifestation of existence closely connected with the

dynamism of grammatical relations. Those relations, those tangles,

would stand for seven dragons’ heads.

She would be something that would exceed such a manifestation, passing

through seven grades of maturing.

She would stand outside syntactic relations, although the writing

about her would arise as the consequence of the ability to create such

relations. (The castle.)

She would be imaginary only insofar as the properties of the language in

which she is written, read and spoken about, are imaginary.

She would be contained completely and fully only in her absence,

wherever it might be manifest.

© Peter Macsovszky, Trial Autopsy (Drewo a srd, 1997), translated by Marián Andričík