— 01 January
First things first: happy new year!
I’ve been pondering how to start this newsletter (and this year), but, like most people I know, energy levels are low. They say you should listen to your body during the winter and respect that it needs to slow down, keep up with nature. They also say it’s time to start fresh, make resolutions, stay on track with them. I’ve never been much of an optimist, but these past years taught me to be even more cautious with positivity. So no resolutions here. I’ll keep going, see where I land, and maybe create some things here and there. As for projects, I decided on this one, but let’s not discuss expectations.
I don’t draw, and I can’t sing. I’m not a writer either and definitely not an artist. All I do is think. Not the overthinking everyone seems to be drowning in these days. No. My kind of thinking is slow but intrusive, sometimes taking a peek into my dreams, other times plaguing my social moments (they are few if you’re guessing). But it never feels like too much. Some people take up pottery or dance lessons. I take up thinking. It’s soothing, and, until recently, it had always stayed within me.
Earlier this year, I created a page to share some of those thoughts when they are related to books. But apparently, I’m getting braver by the hour, which is why I’m creating Metalanguages of the Mind.
I’ll be dissecting some of the thoughts that cross my mind, writing mostly about the paradoxes of (my)self.
Every month, I’ll focus a bit on what I’m reading, what films I’m paying attention to, and just overall bits & bobs of my life. I hope you enjoy it (if not, please don’t tell me).
Films
In time (if you decide to stick around after this recommendation), you’ll find that I’m very into independent cinema. I watch everything from Godard to Fellini to good old Bergman. So when I was pondering which film to write about, I was very surprised when this came to mind. But then again, maybe not so much, seeing as I’m obsessed with it since I watched it a couple of weeks ago.
Alien by Ridley Scott, 1979
If you’re hesitant to watch this, I say give it a chance. Alien is fcking perfect.
I’m not into new year’s resolutions but if there’s something I want to change this year is to open up more to different genres, both in cinema and literature. I hear Ursula le Guin and JG Ballard and I immediately want to read them. But that’s how far my sci-fi knowledge goes. Alien was the wake-up call I needed to start adding more sci-fi to my list.
It’s not really the kind of film where spoilers matter — there’s a space crew, they investigate some signals in a new planet, all hell breaks loose.
The way it unravels makes every minute absolutely crucial to the whole journey. And the thing that impressed me the most was how quiet it is. The rhythm is so slow and mature, almost calm. Would a horror movie be allowed such indulgence today? We move so fast now that we don’t really appreciate anything that tries to be less. Less loud, less action-packed, less special effects, whatever less. But that’s exactly what makes it so good. From cinematography to casting and aesthetics, everything is exceptional.
Books
I’m not very into tops of the year, but I agree some books touch you in a special way and they deserve more attention for it.
This is a picture of my books in boxes. It’s from September. They are still in boxes. I’ve been dancing along to 2021’s rhythm, but I’m getting better at not fainting from anxiety. Which means that even though I’d love to add a picture of the books I’m writing about, I can’t. Instead, we’ll have to make do with this half-full (notice the optimism please) box with not-listed books.
Satantango by László Krasznahorkai
Bleak, cold and miserable, Satantango is a beast. The writing is very dry and I spent half the book completely clueless. Still, when I turned the last page, I had that rare feeling you get in your stomach when you read something that changes you.
The Sea, The Sea by Iris Murdoch
There was a tag going around #bookstagram where you’d have to pick three books that represent you. I failed miserably at picking them, as I couldn’t stick with any decision, but there was one I was quite certain about. The Sea, The Sea is introspective and honest in the most subtle way. It could easily pass as a funny book about an old man, but if you look closer, it’s the most accurate portrait of life and human connections. I know all about struggling to connect and having an insane desire for solitude, so it really hit home.
When We Cease to Understand the World by Benjamín Labatut
I think about this EVERY day. Paradox is my middle name, and the way this book connects physics and maths with philosophy is simply genius. I’m very into phenomenology and Hegel’s philosophy of knowledge, so combining that with the possibility of the absurd is the perfect way to get into my list.
Drive Your Plow Over the Bones of the Dead by Olga Tokarczuk
Tokarczuk takes a humorous story about an old lady who’s into astrology and turns it into an impressive thesis on human rights. Why are some beings more valuable than others? What determines worth? And why do we go along with it? I was really surprised by how much I liked it. Hoping to read Flights and maybe The Books of Jacob (yes, I’m intimidated) this year.
Second Place by Rachel Cusk
My first Cusk. I loved Cusk’s writing as she stand there in the limbo between reality and dream. Everything is a metaphor and everything is real as she explores motherhood, womanhood and how it relates to feminity.
That’s it for the first newsletter of metalanguages of the mind. If you want to know more about it, see the about me section here.
In the meantime, I hope you stick around and feel free to reach me on Instagram: @fast.continuous