To shift the structure of a sentence alters the meaning of that sentence, as definitely and inflexibly as the position of a camera alters the meaning of the object photographed.
Ask anyone committed to Marxist analysis how many angels on the head of a pin, and you will be asked in return to never mind the angels, tell me who controls the production of pins.
Interpretation
What this quote means
The quote critiques the tendency to focus on abstract philosophical questions rather than practical, real-world concerns.
Joan Didion's quote reflects a critique of intellectual debates that prioritize esoteric questions over tangible issues. By using the metaphor of angels on the head of a pin, Didion highlights the absurdity of discussing irrelevant topics while ignoring the pressing matters of power and control in society, specifically the production and economic structures that affect people's lives. It suggests that a practical approach to understanding the world is more valuable than indulging in theoretical distractions.
Themes
In practice
Example use cases
In a discussion about economic inequality, you might use this quote to emphasize the need to focus on who wields power in society.
More from Joan Didion
All quotes →The truth is, it's easier for me to write than talk... to express the state I'm in at any time.
Memories are what you no longer want to remember.
It was clear, for example, in 1988 that the political process had already become perilously remote from the electorate it was meant to represent.
I mean maybe I was holding all the aces, but what was the game?
Do not whine... Do not complain. Work harder. Spend more time alone.
Similar quotes
To be radical is to grasp things by the root.
The kingdom is not an exclusive, well-trimmed suburb with snobbish rules about who can live there. No, it is for a larger, homelier, less self-conscious caste of people who understand they are sinners because they have experienced the yaw and pitch of moral struggle.
I am not talking to you now through the medium of custom, conventionalities, nor even of mortal flesh: it is my spirit that addresses your spirit; just as if both had passed through the grave, and we stood at God's feet, equal--as we are!
There is no such thing as chance; and what seem to us merest accident springs from the deepest source of destiny.
It happens that the stage sets collapse. Rising, streetcar, four hours in the office or the factory, meal, streetcar, four hours of work, meal, sleep, and Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday and Saturday according to the same rhythm – this path is easily followed most of the time. But one day the “why” arises and everything begins in that weariness tinged with amazement.
Time expands and contracts. When it expands, it’s like pitch: it folds people in its arms and holds them forever in its embrace. It doesn’t let us go so easily. Sometimes you go back again to the place you’ve just come from, stop and close your eyes, and realize that not a second has passed, and time just leaves you there, stranded, in the darkness