An intellectual? Yes. And never deny it. An intellectual is someone whose mind watches itself. I like this, because I am happy to be both halves, the watcher and the watched. "Can they be brought together?" This is a practical question. We must get down to it. "I despise intelligence" really means: "I cannot bear my doubts.
Interpretation
The quote explores the duality of being aware of one's thoughts and the struggle with self-doubt.
In this quote, Albert Camus reflects on the nature of intellect and self-awareness. He suggests that to be an intellectual involves a degree of self-observation, where one can critically analyze their own thoughts and feelings. The mention of despising intelligence hints at a discomfort with the uncertainty and doubts that often accompany deep thinking. Ultimately, the quote invites readers to acknowledge and embrace the complexities of their own minds, including both the analytical and the vulnerable aspects.
In practice
In a philosophy class discussion about the nature of self-awareness.
The Poor Man whom everyone speaks of, the Poor Man whom everyone pities, one of the repulsive Poor from whom charitable souls keep their distance, he has still said nothing. Or, rather, he has spoken through the voice of Victor Hugo, Zola, Richepin. At least, they said so. And these shameful impostures fed their authors. Cruel irony, the Poor Man tormented with hunger feeds those who plead his case.
The certainty of a God giving meaning to life far surpasses in attractiveness the ability to behave badly with impunity. The choice would not be hard to make. But there is no choice and that is where the bitterness comes in. The absurd does not liberate; it binds.
Between history and the eternal I have chosen history because I like certainties. Of it, at least, I am certain, and how can I deny this force crushing me.
Don't wait for the last judgment - it takes place every day.
A single sentence will suffice for modern man. He fornicated and read the papers. After that vigorous definition, the subject will be, if I may say so, exhausted.
At times I feel myself overtaken by an immense tenderness for these people around me who live in the same century.
How we treat our invalids - our mad, our physically or mentally compromised family members - does tell you something about who we are politically, historically, culturally.
whose steps were a restless substitute for flight.
Almost anything carried to a logical extreme becomes depressing.
Men owe us what we imagine they will give us. We must forgive them this debt.
And if tonight my soul may find her peace in sleep, and sink in good oblivion, and in the morning wake like a new-opened flower then I have been dipped again in God, and new-created.
'Useful,' and 'necessity' was always 'the tyrant's plea'.
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