We never change. Neither our socks nor our masters nor our opinions, or we're so slow about it that it's no use. We were born loyal and that's what killed us! Soldiers free of charge, heroes for everyone else, talking monkeys, tortured words, we are the minions of King Misery...It's not a life.
Interpretation
This quote reflects on the human condition of unwavering loyalty and the consequences it brings.
In this quote, Celine presents a stark commentary on the nature of loyalty and its detrimental effects on individuals. He suggests that people are often trapped in their unchanging ways, whether it be in their allegiance to authority, their beliefs, or even their mundane habits. This inflexibility leads to a life of servitude and suffering, painting a dark image of existence where individuals act as mere 'minions' under the rule of a metaphorical 'King Misery'. The assertion that this is 'not a life' challenges the reader to consider the cost of loyalty and the need for personal freedom and change.
In practice
In a discussion about the importance of self-identity and personal freedom, this quote illustrates the idea that blind loyalty can hinder personal growth.
Not much music left inside us for life to dance to. Our youth has gone to the ends of the earth to die in the silence of the truth. And where, I ask you, can a man escape to, when he hasn't enough madness left inside him? The truth is an endless death agony. The truth is death. You have to choose: death or lies. I've never been able to kill myself.
To travel is very useful, it makes the imagination work, the rest is just delusion and pain. Our journey is entirely imaginary, which is its strength.
In the kitchens of love, after all, vice is like the pepper in a good sauce; it brings out the flavor, it’s indispensable.
Truth is a pain which will not stop. And the truth of this world is to die. You must choose: either dying or lying. Personally, I have never been able to kill myself
Reason died in 1914, November 1914 ... after that everybody began to rave.
Poor people never, or hardly ever, ask for an explanation of all they have to put up with. They hate one another, and content themselves with that.
Ireland, sir, for good or evil, is like no other place under heaven, and no man can touch its sod or breathe its air without becoming better or worse.
My unconscious knows more about the consciousness of the psychologist than his consciousness knows about my unconscious.
In the United States there is more space where nobody is than where anybody is. This is what makes American what it is.
The question is how much of your privacy and your convenience and your commerce do you want your nation's security apparatus to squeeze in order to keep you safe? And it is a choice that we have to make.
I'm hoping what all sentient beings hope ... that somehow I'm part of something larger than myself, in which I play a role, an actual role that is somehow intended and meaningful.
That would be a good thing for them to cut on my tombstone: Wherever she went, including here, it was against her better judgment.
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