82
" In Austria il patriottismo era un argomento tutto particolare. A differenza della Germania, dove i bambini imparavano semplicemente a disprezzare le guerre dei bambini austriaci, e si insegnava loro che i bambini francesi sono i nipoti di fiacchi libertini che, fossero anche in mille, se la danno a gambe non appena incontrano un soldato tedesco della milizia territoriale dotato di una folta barba. E, scambiati i ruoli e apportate le opportune modifiche, si insegnavano esattamente le stesse cose ai bambini francesi, russi e inglesi, che vantavano anche loro parecchie vittorie. Ora, i bambini sono dei fanfaroni, amano giocare a guardie e ladri e, qualora ne facciano parte, sono sempre pronti a ritenere la famiglia Y, residente nella grande via X, la più importante famiglia del mondo. È dunque facile conquistarli al patriottismo. In Austria invece la faccenda era un po’ più complicata. Gli austriaci infatti avevano sì vinto tutte le guerre della loro storia, ma dopo la maggior parte di esse avevano dovuto cedere qualche territorio. Una circostanza, questa, che induce alla riflessione, e Ulrich, nel suo componimento sull’amor di patria, scrisse che un vero patriota non deve mai reputare la propria patria la migliore di tutte; anzi, in un lampo di genio che gli parve particolarmente bello, benché fosse piuttosto abbagliato dal suo splendore che non consapevole del suo effettivo contenuto, a quella frase sospetta ne aveva aggiunta un’altra, e cioè che probabilmente anche Dio preferisce parlare del suo mondo al conjunctivus potentialis (hic dixerit quispiam qui si potrebbe obiettare…), perché Dio crea il mondo e intanto pensa che esso potrebbe benissimo essere diverso. Di questa frase era molto fiero, ma forse nel formularla non si era spiegato bene, perché ne era nata una gran confusione, e per poco non lo avevano espulso dalla scuola, anche se poi non fu preso alcun provvedimento, nell’impossibilità di decidere se quell’audace osservazione fosse un oltraggio alla patria o a Dio "
― Robert Musil , The Man Without Qualities
84
" Η έπαρση των νέων, που βρίσκουν τα μεγαλύτερα πνεύματα καλά μόνο για να τα χρησιμοποιούν όπως τους αρέσει, του φάνηκε αυτή τη στιγμή αλλόκοτα χαριτωμένη. Προσπάθησε να θυμηθεί τις συζητήσεις τους. Ήταν σαν όνειρο, όταν ξυπνώντας μόλις που προλαβαίνεις τις τελευταίες σκέψεις του ύπνου. Και συλλογίστηκε με ελαφρά απορία: " Όταν εκείνη την εποχή διατυπώναμε θέσεις, είχαν και έναν άλλο σκοπό εκτός από το να είναι ορθές: την αυτοεπιβεβαίωσή μας!" - Τόσο ισχυρότερος ήταν ο πόθος στα νεανικά μας χρόνια να λάμπουμε οι ίδιοι αντί να βλέπουμε ό,τι φωτίζεται· και βίωσε την ανάμνηση αυτού του μετέωρου σαν πάνω σε ακτίνες φωτός συναισθήματος των νιάτων σαν βαριά απώλεια.
[...]
"Δεν μπορεί να κακιώνει κανείς με την εποχή του χωρίς να πάθει και ο ίδιος κακό" ένιωσε ο Ούρλιχ. Και πράγματι, ήταν πάντα διατεθειμένος να αγαπήσει όλα αυτά τα μορφώματα του ζωντανού. Αυτό που δεν κατάφερνε με κανένα τρόπο ήταν απλώς να τα αγαπά πλήρως, έτσι όπως απαιτεί το κοινωνικό συναίσθημα της ψυχικής ικανοποίησης· εδώ και πολύ καιρό πάνω σε όλα όσα έκανε και ζούσε έμενε μια άχνα αποστροφής, μια σκιά ανημπόριας και μοναξιάς· ήταν μια καθολική αντιπάθεια που δεν μπορούσε να βρει την ετερώνυμη, συμπληρωματική ροπή της. Κατά καιρούς ένιωθε σαν να ήταν προικισμένος με ένα ταλέντο, για το οποίο προς το παρόν δεν υπήρχε στόχος. "
― Robert Musil , The Man Without Qualities
86
" « Il faut dire qu’un séjour continuel dans un État bien organisé a quelque chose d’absolument fantômal ; on ne peut sortir dans la rue, boire un verre d’eau ou monter dans le tram sans toucher aux leviers subtilement équilibrés d’un gigantesque appareil de lois et de relations, les mettre en branle ou se faire maintenir par eux dans la tranquillité de son existence ; on n’en connaît qu’un très petit nombre, ceux qui pénètrent profondément dans l’intérieur et se perdent à l’autre bout dans un réseau dont aucun homme, jamais, n’a débrouillé l’ensemble ; c’est d’ailleurs pourquoi on le nie, comme le citadin nie l’air, affirmant qu’il n’est que du vide ; mais il semble que ce soit justement parce que tout ce que l’on nie, tout ce qui est incolore, inodore, insipide, sans poids et sans moeurs, comme l’eau, l’air, l’espace, l’argent et la fuite du temps, est en réalité l’essentiel que la vie prend ce caractère spectral. » "
― Robert Musil , The Man Without Qualities
89
" »Erlaucht kennen doch die Geschichte von den Befestigungsanlagen in Südtirol, die in den letzten zehn Jahren auf Betreiben des Generalstabschefs hergestellt worden sind? Sie sollen tadellos und das Neueste in der Ausführung sein. Natürlich hat man sie auch mit elektrisch geladenen Hindernissen und großen Scheinwerferanlagen ausgestattet, und zu deren Belieferung mit Strom sind sogar versenkte Dieselmotoren eingebaut worden; man kann nicht sagen, daß wir hinter irgendetwas zurückstehn. Das Unglück ist nur, daß die Motoren durch die Artillerieabteilung bestellt worden sind, und das Brennmaterial liefert die Bauabteilung des Kriegsministeriums; das ist so nach der Vorschrift, und darum kann man die Anlagen nicht in Betrieb setzen, weil sich die beiden Abteilungen nicht darüber einigen können, ob das Zündholz, das man beim Anlaufenlassen braucht, als Brennmaterial aufzufassen und von der Bauabteilung beizustellen ist, oder ob es als Motorzubehör aufzufassen ist und in den Wirkungskreis der Artillerie gehört.«
»Reizend!« sagte Arnheim, obgleich er wußte, daß Tuzzi den Dieselmotor mit einem Gasmotor verwechselte und selbst bei einem solchen Zündllammen längst nicht mehr verwendet wurden; es war eine jener Geschichten, wie sie in den Büros kreisen, voll von liebenswürdiger Selbstironie, und der Sektionschef hatte sie mit einer Stimme vorgetragen, die dem Malheur, das sie berichtete, erfreut nachging. "
― Robert Musil , The Man Without Qualities
91
" For some reason newspapers are not the laboratories and experimental stations of the mind that they could be, to the public's great benefit, but usually only its warehouses and stock exchanges. If he were alive today, Plato—to take him as an example, because along with a dozen others he is regarded as the greatest thinker who ever lived—would certainly be ecstatic about a news industry capable of creating, exchanging, refining a new idea every day; where information keeps pouring in from the ends of the earth with a speediness he never knew in his own lifetime, while a staff of demiurges is on hand to check it all out instantaneously for its content of reason and reality. He would have supposed a newspaper office to be that topos uranios, that heavenly realm of ideas, which he has described so impressively that to this day all the better class of people are still idealists when talking to their children or employees. And of course if Plato were to walk suddenly into a news editor’s office today and prove himself to be indeed that great author who died over two thousand years ago he would be a tremendous sensation and would instantly be showered with the most lucrative offers. If he were then capable of writing a volume of philosophical travel pieces in three weeks, and a few thousand of his well-known short stories, perhaps even turn one or the other of his older works into film, he could undoubtedly do very well for himself for a considerable period of time. The moment his return had ceased to be news, however, and Mr. Plato tried to put into practice one of his well-known ideas, which had never quite come into their own, the editor in chief would ask him to submit only a nice little column on the subject now and then for the Life and Leisure section (but in the easiest and most lively style possible, not heavy: remember the readers), and the features editor would add that he was sorry, but he could use such a contribution only once a month or so, because there were so many other good writers to be considered. And both of these gentlemen would end up feeling that they had done quite a lot for a man who might indeed be the Nestor of European publicists but still was a bit outdated, and certainly not in a class for current newsworthiness with a man like, for instance, Paul Arnheim. "
― Robert Musil , The Man Without Qualities
94
" that rotten feeling of antlike industry. There is really no need to belabor the point, since it is obvious to most of us these days that mathematics has taken possession, like a demon, of every aspect of our lives. Most of us may not believe in the story of a Devil to whom one can sell one’s soul, but those who must know something about the soul (considering that as clergymen, historians, and artists they draw a good income from it) all testify that the soul has been destroyed by mathematics and that mathematics is the source of an evil intelligence that while making man the lord of the earth has also made him the slave of his machines. The inner drought, the dreadful blend of acuity in matters of detail and indifference toward the whole, man’s monstrous abandonment in a desert of details, his restlessness, malice, unsurpassed callousness, money-grubbing, coldness, and violence, all so characteristic of our times, are by these accounts solely the consequence of damage done to the soul by keen logical thinking! Even back when Ulrich first turned to mathematics there were already those who predicted the collapse of European civilization because no human faith, no love, no simplicity, no goodness, dwelt any longer in man. "
― Robert Musil , The Man Without Qualities
