This week I have re-read after 50 years, "An Imitation of Christ" by Thomas a Kempis. This and the accompanying commentaries has, left me wondering why, in my youth, I was so impressed by the the views of this mystic Divine, particularly, his emphatic view on humility a quality that, then as now, was never my strong point; in short I am, and always have been an arrogant bastard..
It is interesting to note that in recent years I have re-read Dostoyevsky with the same result. What is it that so impressed me in my youth that I learnt Russian just to read him in his own language? Why don't I enjoy with the same sense of wonderment "The Idiot" or "The Devils"? Why is it that today I would much rather read Terry Pratchett?
Is it just a matter of changing emphasis in my life as I enter old age or is it a fundamental change of philosophical and literary taste? If the latter, when did this change occur? Does everyone experience such profound changes of thought and outlook as they get older? Is it, perhaps, that memory plays me false and the enthusiasm of youth just never existed?
Bollocks!, does it matter?
Sincerely,
Algernon Quim (aka Rincewind)
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2 comments:
Rincewind? I thought you looked familiar; but what is your familiar?
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