The fabricators are unbelievably ingenious. Everything is grist to their skills. I even caught sight of one or two who could make the most useful things quite unusable and this, in their language, they call the greatest achievement of art. One of the cleverest of them had just completed the construction of a perfectly uninhabitable house and, seeing my astonishment, condescended to explain:
"When a tree grows, it's not to provide homes for birds. The bird is a parasite on the tree just as human beings are parasites on houses. The building which I have created is itself its own meaning. See how simple, how bold the lines! a cement pole sixty meters high supporting those double-walled rubber globes! (And indeed the effect was of a bunch of gigantic red currants painted in many colors.) No walls or roof or windows; it's a long time since we jettisoned such superstitions. Each globe is decorated inside in accordance with my specifications, and a central lift enables the visitor to inspect them without fatigue. The temperature is kept exactly at the ideal level for the ideal human organism as defined by our experts. It is the only temperature at which nobody feels comfortable: some shiver and others sweat. That's how science in this day and age serves art to make houses uninhabitable. This one should last at least six months."
René Daumal (1908-1944). A Night of Serious Drinking. Chapter 11
Sunday, March 11, 2007
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