The Glass Bead Game Quotes

No permanence is ours; we are a wave That flows to fit whatever form it finds

No permanence is ours; we are a wave That flows to fit whatever form it finds: Through night or day, cathedral or the cave We pass forever, craving form that binds.

كلما علت ثقافة الإنسان، وكلما عظمت الامتيازات التي كان يتمتع بها، كلما كانت التضحيات التي ينبغي عليه تقديمها في الأزمات كبيرة.

Each of us is merely one human being, merely an experiment, a way station. But each of us should be on the way toward perfection, should be striving to reach the center, not the periphery.

What you call passion is not a spiritual force, but friction between the soul and the outside world. Where passion dominates, that does not signify the presence of greater desire and ambition, but rather the misdirection of these qualities toward and isolated and false goal, with a consequent tension and sultriness in the atmosphere. Those who direct the maximum force of their desires toward the center, toward true being, toward perfection, seem quieter than the passionate souls because the flame of their fervor cannot always be seen. In argument, for example, they will not shout or wave their arms. But, I assure you, they are nevertheless, burning with subdued fires.

Should we be mindful of dreams?" Joseph asked. "Can we interpret them?" The Master looked into his eyes and said tersely: "We should be mindful of everything, for we can interpret everything.

There is truth, my boy. But the doctrine you desire, absolute, perfect dogma that alone provides wisdom, does not exist. Nor should you long for a perfect doctrine, my friend. Rather, you should long for the perfection of yourself. The deity is within you, not in ideas and books. Truth is lived, not taught.

Oh, if only it were possible to find understanding,” Joseph exclaimed. “If only there were a dogma to believe in. Everything is contradictory, everything tangential; there are no certainties anywhere. Everything can be interpreted one way and then again interpreted in the opposite sense. The whole of world history can be explained as development and progress and can also be seen as nothing but decadence and meaninglessness. Isn’t there any truth? Is there no real and valid doctrine?” The master had never heard him speak so fervently. He walked on in silence for a little, then said: “There is truth, my boy. But the doctrine you desire, absolute, perfect dogma that alone provides wisdom, does not exist. Nor should you long for a perfect doctrine, my friend. Rather, you should long for the perfection of yourself. The deity is within you, not in ideas and books. Truth is lived, not taught. Be prepared for conflicts, Joseph Knecht - I can see that they already have begun.

Every important cultural gesture comes down to a morality, a model for human behavior concentrated into a gesture.

I don't know whether my life has been useless and merely a misunderstanding, or whether it has a meaning.

His way had therefore come full circle, or rather had taken the form of an ellipse or a spiral, following as ever no straight unbroken line, for the rectilinear belongs only to Geometry and not to Nature and Life.

Stages As every flower fades and as all youth Departs, so life at every stage, So every virtue, so our grasp of truth, Blooms in its day and may not last forever. Since life may summon us at every age Be ready, heart, for parting, new endeavor, Be ready bravely and without remorse To find new light that old ties cannot give. In all beginnings dwells a magic force For guarding us and helping us to live. Serenely let us move to distant places And let no sentiments of home detain us. The Cosmic Spirit seeks not to restrain us But lifts us stage by stage to wider spaces. If we accept a home of our own making, Familiar habit makes for indolence. We must prepare for parting and leave-taking Or else remain the slaves of permanence. Even the hour of our death may send Us speeding on to fresh and newer spaces, And life may summon us to newer races. So be it, heart: bid farewell without end.

If only there were a dogma to believe in. Everything is contradictory, everything is tangential; there are no certainties anywhere. Everything can be interpreted one way and then again interpreted in the opposite sense. The whole of world history can be explained as development and progress and can also be seen as nothing but decadence and meaninglessness. Isn't there any truth? Is there no real and valid doctrine?" Joseph Knect said to his Music Master "there is truth, my boy. But the doctrine you desire, absolute perfect dogma that alone provides wisdom, does not exist. Nor should you long for a perfect doctrine, my friend rather, you should long for perfection in yourself. The deity is within you, not in ideas and books. Truth is lived not taught

كل واحد منا إنسان , بشر, أي أنه مجرد محاولة, مجرد شئ في منتصف الطريق. و علي الإنسان أن يكون في منتصف الطريق المؤدي إلي الكمال و أن يسعي لبلوغ المركز لا الحافة.

What I am in search of is not so much the gratification of a curiosity or a passion for worldly life, but something far less conditional. I do not wish to go out into the world with an insurance policy in my pocket guaranteeing my return in the event of a disappointment, like some cautious traveller who would be content with a brief glimpse of the world. On the contrary, I desire that there should be hazards, difficulties and dangers to face; I am hungry for reality, for tasks and deeds, and also for privation and suffering.

لا توجد حياة كريمة سامية دون معرفة بالشياطين والأبالسة ودون نضال دائم ضدها.

A game master or teacher who was primarily concerned with being close enough to the "innermost meaning" would be a very bad teacher. To be candid, I myself, for example, have never in my life said a word to my pupils about the "meaning" of music; if there is one it does not need my explanations. On the other hand I have always made a great point of having my pupils count their eighths and sixteenths nicely. Whatever you become, teacher, scholar, or musician, have respect for the "meaning" but do not imagine that it can be taught.

The old man slowly raised himself from the piano stool, fixed those cheerful blue eyes piercingly and at the same time with unimaginable friendliness upon him, and said: "Making music together is the best way for two people to become friends. There is none easier. That is a fine thing. I hope you and I shall remain friends. Perhaps you too will learn how to make fugues, Joseph.

Those who direct the maximum force of their desires towards the center, toward the true being, toward perfection, seem quieter than the passionate souls because the flame of their fervor cannot always be seen. In argument, for example, they will not shout and wave their arms. But I assure you, they are nevertheless burning with subdued fires.

Perfect music has its cause. It arises from equilibrium. Equilibrium arises from righteousness, and righteousness arises from the meaning of the cosmos. Therefore one can speak about music only with a man who has perceived the meaning of the cosmos.

إنما هو شئ مؤسف أليم أن يموت إنسان في مثل هذا اليأس .إن الله لا يرسل إلينا اليأس ليقتلنا,بل يرسله إلينا ليوقظ فينا حياة جديدة

Tegularius was a willful, moody person who refused to fit into his society. Every so often he would display the liveliness of his intellect. When highly stimulated he could be entrancing; his mordant wit sparkled and he overwhelmed everyone with the audacity and richness of his sometimes somber inspirations. But basically he was incurable, for he did not want to be cured; he cared nothing for co-ordination and a place in the scheme of things. He loved nothing but his freedom, his perpetual student status, and preferred spending his whole life as the unpredictable and obstinate loner, the gifted fool and nihilist, to following the path of subordination to the hierarchy and thus attaining peace. He cared nothing for peace, had no regard for the hierarchy, hardly minded reproof and isolation. Certainly he was a most inconvenient and indigestible component in a community whose idea was harmony and orderliness. But because of this very troublesomeness and indigestibility he was, in the midst of such a limpid and prearranged little world, a constant source of vital unrest, a reproach, an admonition and warning, a spur to new, bold, forbidden, intrepid ideas, an unruly, stubborn sheep in the herd.

And they didn't like to pay with trust and love, but rather with money and goods. They betrayed each other and expected being betrayed themselves.

الفترة الأخيرة من كل مرحلة من مراحل الحياة تحمل لونا خفيفا من الذبول و الرغبة في الموت ذاتها يقودها إلي مكان جديد,إلي اليقظة,إلي بداية جديدة

وما لبثت أن لاحظت بمضي الزمن أن الغموض في النفس وتدريب الروح ورعايتها، هو ما يعزلني عن الآخرين ويجعلني ثقيلا عليهم غريبا فيهم، ويسلبني القدرة على فهمهم فهما حقيقيا

The scholar who knowingly speaks, writes, or teaches falsehood, who knowingly supports lies and deceptions, not only violates organic principles. He also, no matter how things may seem at the given moment, does his people a grave disservice. He corrupts its air and soil, its food and drink; he poisons its thinking and its laws, and he gives aid and comfort to all the hostile, evil forces that threaten the nation with annihilation.

Granted, there is always much that is hidden, and we must not forget that the writing of history - however dryly it is done and however sincere the desire for objectivity - remains literature. History's third dimension is always fiction

These rules, the sign language and grammar of the Game, constitute a kind of highly developed secret language drawing upon several sciences and arts, but especially mathematics and music (and/or musicology), and capable of expressing and establishing interrelationships between the content and conclusions of nearly all scholarly disciplines. The Glass Bead Game is thus a mode of playing with the total contents and values of our culture; it plays with them as, say, in the great age of the arts a painter might have played with the colours on his palette.

إن التضحية بحب الحقيقة، وبالأمانة الفكرية، وبالإخلاص لقوانين ومناهج الفكر من أجل مصلحة أخرى مهما كانت، حتى مصلحة الوطن نفسه، خيانة. فإذا حدث في صراع المصالح والشعارات أن تعرضت الحقيقة لخطر فقدان القيمة والتخريف والاغتصاب، كما يتعرض الفرد له، وكما تتعرض له اللغة والفنون وكل كائن عضوي، وكل ما استنبط ونما نماءُ فنيًا جميلًا، فإن واجبنا الوحيد يتلخص آنئذ في المقاومة، وفي إنقاذ الحقيقة أعني إنقاذ السعي وراء الحقيقة. باعتباره أسمى ما في إيماننا. والعالم - سواء كان خطيبًا أو كاتبًا أو معلمًا - الذي يقول الخطأ، وهو يعلم أنه الخطأ، أو يساند الأكاذيب والتحريفات وهو يعلم أنها كذلك، لا يسلك فحسب مسلكًا مضادًا للقوانين الحيوية الأساسية، بل يصيب شعبه، رغم ما قد يظهر غير ذلك من نجاح وقتي، بالأذى الشديد، لأنه يفسد الهواء والأرض، والطعام والشراب، ويسمم التفكير والحق ويعين كل شر وكل عدو يهدد الشعب بالإبادة.

People know, or dimly feel, that if thinking is not kept pure and keen, and if respect for the world of mind is no longer operative, ships and automobiles will soon cease to run right, the engineer's slide rule and the computations of banks and stock exchanges will forfeit validity and authority, and chaos will ensue.

To deal with history [life] means to abandon one's self to chaos but to retain a belief in the ordination and the meaning. It is a very serious task.

Making music together is the best way for two people to become friends.

Times of terror and the deepest misery may arrive, but if there is to be any happiness in this misery it can only be a spiritual happiness, related to the past in the rescue of the culture of early ages and to the future in a serene and indefatigable championship of the spirit in a time which would otherwise completely swallow up the material.

When the world is at peace, when all things are tranquil and all men obey their superiors in all their courses, then music can be perfected. When desires and passions do not turn into wrongful paths, music can be perfected. Perfect music has its cause. It arises from equilibrium. Equilibrium arises from righteousness, and righteousness arises from the meaning of the cosmos. Therefore one can speak about music only with a man who has perceived the meaning of the cosmos.

وفي كل بداية سحر*** يحمينا ويساعدنا على الحياة..

Our days are precious but we gladly see them going If in their place we find a thing more precious growing: A rare, exotic plant, our gardener's heart delighting; A child whom we are teaching, a booklet we are writing.

From the most ancient days of China to the myths of the Greeks we find the concept of an ideal, heavenly life for men under the hegemony of music. The Glass Bead Game is intimately bound up with this cult of music (“in eternal transmutations the secret power of song greets us here below,” says Novalis).

Nothing is harder yet nothing is more necessary, than to speak of certain things whose existence is neither demonstrable nor probable. The very fact that serious and conscientious men treat them as existing things brings them a step closer to existence and to the possibility of being born. Spoken by Albertus Secundus in "Das Glasperlenspiel

The human attitude of which classical music is the expression is always the same; it is always based on the same kind of insight into life and strives for the same kind of victory over blind chance. Classical music as gesture signifies knowledge of the tragedy of the human condition, affirmation of human destiny, courage, cheerful serenity.

Tu pārlieku nomokies ar problēmām, par kurām neesi atbildīgs.

خير للإنسان أن يموت على يد الفاشيين من أن يتحول هو إلى أحد الفاشيين.

علينا أن نجتاز في مرح وصفاء المكان بعد المكان وألا نتعلق بأي مكان تعلقنا بالوطن ، فروح العالم لا تريد ان تقيدنا وان تضيق علينا، بل تريد أن ترفعنا درجة بعد درجة، وأن توسع علينا

إن الجميل و الأجمل معرضان للفناء مذ يصبحان تاريخا و ظاهرة علي وجه الأرض .هذا شئ نعلمه و نحزن له ,و لا نحاول جادين تغييره,لأنه لا سبيل إلي تغييره.

أين هو المكان الذي يمكن لقواه أن تخدم فيه علي أحسن وجه و تثمر أحسن ثمرة؟؟

He read the veinings of a leaf, the pattern on a mushroom cap, and divined mysteries, relations, futures, possibilities: the magic of symbols, the foreshadowing of numbers and writing, the reduction of infinitudes and multiplicities to simplicity, to system, to concept. For all these ways of comprehending the world through the mind no doubt lay within him, nameless, unnamed, but not inconceivable, not beyond the bounds of presentiment, still in the germ, but essential to his nature, part of him, growing organically within him. And if we were to go still further back beyond this Rainmaker and his time which to us seems so early and primitive, if we were to go several thousand years further back into the past, wherever we found man we would still find - this is our firm belief - the mind of man, that mind which has no beginning and always has contained everything that it later produces.

Think of it... that in your heart there is an answer to all the things and sights of the world, that everything concerns you, that you ought to know as much about everything as it is possible for man to know.

My life, I resolved, ought to be a perpetual transcending, a progression from stage to stage; I wanted it to pass through one area after the next, leaving each behind, as music moves on from theme to theme, from tempo to tempo, playing each out to the end, completing each and leaving it behind, never tiring, never sleeping, forever wakeful, forever in the present. In connection with the experiences of awakening, I had noticed that such stages and such areas exist, and that each successive period in one’s life bears within itself, as it is approaching its end, a note of fading and eagerness for death. That in turn leads to a shifting to a new area, to awakening and new beginnings.

Ieklausīties mūzikas skaņās ir labāk nekā lietot miegazāles.

Apjēgt var visu, ja iedziļinās lietas būtībā.

Aizmirstam, ka arī mēs esam vēstures daļa, kaut kas tāds, kas tapis, kas tāds, kam lemts atmirt, līdzko tas zaudē spēju augt un mainīt veidu.

eternally revolving wheel of avidity and suffering;

نجاح عن طريق شئ بسيط,و في الثبات خلاص الجوّال

معالجة التاريخ تعني أن يستسلم الإنسان للفوضي و يحتفظ مع ذلك بإيمان النظام و بمغزي الأشياء. و تلك مهمة جادة جدا أيها الشاب, بل إنها مهمة توشك أن تكون تراجيدية.

The kind of person we want to develop, the kind of person we aim to become, would at any time be able to exchange his discipline or art for any other.

To stiffen into stone, to persevere! We long forever for the right to stay. But all that stays with us is fear, And we shall never rest upon our way.

أصبحت هذه الحياة كلها في النهاية عذابا عظيما و كابوسا لا يكاد حمله يطاق ,و ألما أليما, فقد تخلي عنه كل شئ, دون أن يعرف يقينا ما إذا كان هو الذي تخلي عن كل شئ و ما إذا كان هذا الموات و الاغتراب بين جنبات عالمه المألوف قد حدث نتيجة لإثم ارتكبه هو بطموحه و تكبره , و لاشك أن هذه الآلام التي تصاحب الإلهام الصادق هي اشد الآلام مرارة. إن من يتلقي إلهاما لا يتلقي عطية و أمرا فقط, بل يحمل أيضا إصرا

ربما لم يكن أولئك الذين تجذبهم الدنيا البعيدة هم الضعفاء الناقصين حتما, و لم يكن ما يلوح للمرء نكسة أصابتهم, لا نكسة ولا إصابة, بل قفزة و عملا, و ربما كنا نحن الذين بقينا في اشهولتس الضعاف الجبناء

إن أهل العالم هؤلاء ليسوا مذنبين بالمعنى الكامل للكلمة.. فكلما حاولت أن أضع نفسي في جلدهم و أفكر بعقلهم ..تبينت أنهم كالأطفال بالضبط، ليسوا شجعانا، ليسوا طيبين، ليسوا كراما، فهم أنانيون شرهون متعجرفون غضبون، هذا صحيح، لكنهم في الواقع أبرياء، كما الأطفال أبرياء..

قد تأتي عصور من الإرهاب و البؤس الشديد,فإذا كان من المقدر أن يكون من البؤس سعد,فلا يمكن إلا أن يكون ذلك السعد فكريا,يتجه إلي الوراء لإنقاذ ثقافة العصور القديمة ,و يتجه إلي الأمام ليمثل في صفاء و رضا.

He waited, listening with deep enjoyment, for the end of the sonata. In the still, twilit corridor it sounded so lonely and unworldly, and so brave and innocent also, both childlike and superior, as all good music must in the midst of the unredeemed muteness of the world.

At last- I had already given up hope- he broke throught the magic wall; at last helped me; at last he said a few words. Those were the only words I heard him speak today. 'You are tiring yourself Joseph,' he said softly, his voice full of that touching friendlness and solicitude you know so well. That was all. 'You are tiring yourself Joseph.

He had also learned that the sick and unfortunate are far more receptive to traditional magic spells and exorcisms than to sensible advice; that people more readily accept affliction and outward penances than the task of changing themselves, or even examining themselves; that they believe more easily in magic than reason, in formulas than experience . . . They would much rather pay in money and goods than in trust and love. They cheat one another and expect to be cheated themselves. You had to learn to see man as a weak, selfish, and cowardly creature; you also had to realize how many of these evil traits and impulses you shared yourself . . . .

There are many types and kinds of vacation, but the core of the experience is always the same: the soul is awakened by it, transformed or exalted, so that instead of dreams and presentiments from within a summons comes from without. A portion of reality presents itself and makes its claim.

They stayed for rapt moments in the crystal sphere of this soul, as if in a realm of invisible radiation, listening to unearthly music, and then returned to their daily lives with hearts cleansed and strengthened, as if descending from a high mountain peak.

And those of us who trust ourselves the least, Who doubt and question most, these, it may be, Will make their mark upon eternity, And youth will turn to them as to a feast. The time may come when a man who confessed His self-doubts will be ranked among the blessed Who never suffered anguish or knew fear, Whose times were times of glory and good cheer, Who lived like children, simple happy lives. For in us too is part of that Eternal Mind Which through the aeons calls to brothers of its kind: Both you and I will pass, but it survives.

Žēl, ka jums, studentiem, nav īsta priekšstata par to pārticību un greznību, kādā mītat.

Zināšanas ne vienmēr un ne visur bijušas līksmas, lai gan tām tādām būtu jābūt.

Darbojoties vieglāk pārciest jebkuru zaudējumu.

I think I’ve never before really seen how beautiful it is … But I suppose it’s because I’m seeing it for the first time as something I must leave and say farewell to.

He found, moreover, that the younger and more ignorant his pupils were, the more pleasure he took in teaching.

نص العرافة: أنا أعطي البيان من الطالع الأول فإذا كرر السؤال , كان ذلك إثقالا و إن أثقل, لم أعطه بيانا و الصمود هو الذي يدفع إلي الأمام

Прошлое прошло: было ли оно удачным или лучше бы его и вовсе не было, признаем ли мы за ним какой-то "смысл" или не признаем, - все это в равной мере лишено значения.

We love the sciences and scholarly disciplines, each his own, and yet we know that devotion to a discipline does not necessarily preserve a man from selfishness, vice, and absurdity.

أحس أنه ليس غريبا مضطهدا هاربا,و أنه منبسط الصدر,لا يفكر في شئ ,و لا يشتاق إلي شئ,و أنه مندمج في الحاضر الهادئ الصافي القريب ,و أنه شاكر,مندهش قليلا من نفسه و من هذه الحالة التي يعانيها ناعما مغتبطا و مندهشا من هذا الانشراح المجرد من الرغبات,و من هذا الصفاء المجرد من التوتر,و من هذه الطريقة اليقظة المجدية من التمتع و التأمل

everything actually was all-meaningful, that every symbol and combination of symbols led not hither and yon, not to single examples, experiments, and proofs, but into the center, the mystery and innermost heart of the world, into primal knowledge. Every transition from major to minor in a sonata, every transformation of a myth or a religious cult, every classical or artistic formulation was, I realized in that flashing moment, if seen with a truly meditative mind, nothing but a direct route into the interior of the cosmic mystery, where in the alternation between inhaling and exhaling, between heaven and earth, between Yin and Yang, holiness is forever being created.

This private association of mine is a precious possession I would not willingly give up. But the fact that two sensual experiences leap up every time I think, ‘spring is coming’—that fact is my own personal affair. It can be communicated, certainly, as I have communicated it to you just now. But it cannot be transmitted. I can make you understand my association, but I cannot so affect a single one of you that my private association will become a valid symbol for you in your turn, a mechanism which infallibly reacts on call and always follows the same course.

The artistically inclined delight in the Game because it provides opportunities for improvisation and fantasy. The strict scholars and scientists despise it – and so do some musicians also – because, they say, it lacks that degree of strictness which their specialties can achieve. Well and good, you will encounter these antinomies, and in time you will discover that they are subjective, not objective – that, for example, a fancy-free artist avoids pure mathematics or logic not because he understands them and could say something about them if he wished, but because he instinctively inclines toward other things. Such instinctive and violent inclinations and disinclinations are signs by which you can recognize the pettier souls. In great souls and superior minds, these passions are not found. Each of us is merely one human being, merely an experiment, a way station. But each of us should be on the way toward perfection, should be striving to reach the center, not the periphery. Remember this: one can be a strict logician or grammarian, and at the same time full of imagination and music. One can be a musician or Glass Bead Game player and at the same time wholly devoted to rule and order. The kind of person we want to develop, the kind of person we aim to become, would at any time be able to exchange his discipline or art for any other. He would infuse the Glass Bead Game with crystalline logic, and grammar with creative imagination. That is how we ought to be. We should be so constituted that we can at any time be placed in a different position without offering resistance or losing our heads.

When I composed those verses I was preoccupied less with music than with an experience—an experience in which that beautiful musical allegory had shown its moral side, had become an awakening and a summons to a life vocation. The imperative form of the poem which specially displeases you is not the expression of a command and a will to teach but a command and warning directed towards myself. Even if you were not fully aware of this, my friend, you could have read it in the closing lines. I experienced an insight, you see, a realization and an inner vision, and wished to impress and hammer the moral of this vision into myself. That is the reason why this poem has remained in my memory. Whether the verses are good or bad they have achieved their aim, for the warning has lived on within me and has not been forgotten. It rings anew for me again to-day, and that is a wonderful little experience which your scorn cannot take away from me.

[...] ne aflam in cu totul alte raporturi fata de muzica clasica decat oamenii din epocile care au creat-o; veneratia spiritualizata si nu intotdeauna suficient eliberata de sub stapanirea unei melancolii resemnate, nutrita de noi fata de adevarata muzica, este cu totul altceva decat senina placere naiva iscata de muzica in vremurile in care a aparut [...]

It is understandable that there has been a good deal of joking about purely learned works of this type. Their actual value for the future of scholarship and for the people as a whole cannot be demonstrated. Nevertheless, scholarship, as was true for art in the olden days, must indeed have far-flung grazing grounds, and in pursuit of a subject which interests no one but himself a scholar can accumulate knowledge which provides colleagues with information as valuable as that stored in a dictionary or an archive.

Therefore the music of a well-ordered age is calm and cheerful, and so is its government. The music of a restive age is excited and fierce, and its government is perverted. The music of a decaying state is sentimental and sad, and its government is imperiled.

This landscape of clouds and sky. At first glance you might think that the depths are there where it is darkest; but then you realize that the darkness and softness are only the clouds and that the depths of the universe begin only at the fringes and fjords of this mountain range of clouds—solemn and supreme symbols of clarity and orderliness. The depths and the mysteries of the universe lie not where the clouds and blackness are; the depths are to be found in the spaces of clarity and serenity. Please, just before going to sleep look up for a while at these bays and straits again, with all their stars, and don’t reject the ideas or dreams that come to you from them.

And many years later, as an adult student of history, Knecht was to perceive more distinctly that history cannot come into being without the substance and the dynamism of this sinful world of egoism and instinctuality, and that even such sublime creations as the Order were born in this cloudy torrent and sooner or later will be swallowed up by it again...Nor was this ever merely an intellectual problem for him. Rather, it engaged his innermost self more than any other problem, and he felt it as partly his responsibility. His was one of those natures which can sicken, languish, and die when they see an ideal they have believed in, or the country and community they love, afflicted with ills.

كان قد أحس بعملية الإلهام التي يصح للإنسان أن يسميها بحق سرا قدسيا, لقد ظهر العالم المثالي له و فتح أبوابه له في دعوة إلي الدخول,ذلك العالم المثالي الذي كانت نفسه الغريرة حتي ذلك الحين لا تعرفه إلا مما يحكي لها عنها و يصل إلي أسماعها أو مما يخالجها من أحلام متأججة لم يعد هذا العالم المثالي بالنسبة له عالما موجودا في مكان ما علي بعد سحيق,لا, لقد أصبح موجودا هنا,أصبح نشيطا فعالا,يرسل الإشعاعات و يبعث المبعوثين و الرسل و السفراء

لكن طبيعة الناس يا يوزف تسلك مسلكا آخر, في الوقت الذي يتورط الإنسان فيه في مشاكل وينحرف عن الطريق المستقيم و تشتد حاجته إلي التصويب, يحس الإنسان في نفسه بعزوف شديد عن العودة إلي الطريق السوي و التماس التصويب الصحيح,و كان الرائد الذي يشرف علي دراساتي قد وجه إلي لوما شديدا, بينما كنت أعتقد أني كنت أوشك التوصل إلي اكتشافات جديدة و إلي آراء جديدة, فاستأت من لومه بعض الاستياء. و باختصار كرهت الذهاب إليه, فما كنت أحب أن أقف أمامه موقف النادم و أعترف له بأنه علي حق.

كلما زاد ما نتطلبه من أنفسنا أو كلما زاد ما يتطلبه واجبنا منا زادت ضرورة التجائنا إلي التأمل مصدر قوة و إلي التوافق بين الفكر و الروح, كلما زاد تملك مهمة من المهمات لنا, فأثارتنا و سمت بنا تارة, و تارة أتعبتنا وأرهقتنا , أصبح إهمالنا لمصدر القوة هذا أيسر علينا و أسهل حدوثا لنا, بالظبط كما يحدث لنا عندما ننهمك في عمل فكري انهماكا شديدا و يسهل علينا إهمال الجسم و التغاضي عن العناية به. و عظماء الرجال كانوا إما علي معرفة بالتأمل و ممارسته, أو كانوا في الطريق الموصل إلي التأمل دون علم منهم, فمن لم تتح له واحدة من هذه, حتي و لو كان عظيم الموهبة شديد البأس, فقد انتهي به الأمر إلي الفشل و الانحدار, لأن مهمته التي سعي إلي تأديتها قد تملكته حتي أفقدته القدرة علي التحلل من حين لحين من الأحداث المحيطة و الابتعاد عنها. هذه هي الحقيقة المرة, و لا يعلم مرارتها إلا من ضل الطريق مرة

Even more remote from his way of thinking, even more impossible than any other thought, would have been words such as this: “Is it only I alone who have created this experience, or is it objective reality? Does the Master have the same feelings as I, or would mine amuse him? Are my thoughts new, unique, my own, or have the Master and many before him experienced and thought exactly the same?” No, for him there were no such analyses and differentiations. Everything was reality, was steeped in reality, full of it as bread dough is of yeast.

There is, after all, always something wonderful and touchingly beautiful about a young man, for the first time released from the bonds of schooling, making his first ventures toward the infinite horizon of the mind. At this point he has not yet seen any of his illusions dissipated, or doubted either his own capacity for endless dedication or the boundlessness of the world of thought.

There was truly no pleasure and no honor in being a scholar or a writer. Those who entered the service of the rulers and devised slogans for them had jobs and livelihoods, but they suffered the contempt of the best among their fellows, and most of them surely suffered pangs of conscience also. Those who refused such service had to go hungry, live as outlaws, and die in misery or exile. A cruel, an incredibly harsh weeding out took place. Scientific research that did not directly serve the needs of power and warfare rapidly sank into decadence. The same was true for the whole educational system.

Lament No permanence is ours; we are a wave That flows to fit whatever form it finds: Through day or night, cathedral or the cave We pass forever, craving form that binds. Mold after mold we fill and never rest, We find no home where joy or grief runs deep. We move, we are the everlasting guest. No field nor plow is ours; we do not reap. What God would make of us remains unknown: He plays; we are the clay to his desire. Plastic and mute, we neither laugh nor groan; He kneads, but never gives us to the fire. To stiffen to stone, to persevere! We long forever for the right to stay. But all that ever stays with us is fear, And we shall never rest upon our way.

...the Master and the boy followed each other as if drawn along the wires of some mechanism, until soon it could no longer be discerned which was coming and which going, which following and which leading, the old or the young man. Now it seemed to be the young man who showed honour and obedience to the old man, to authority and dignity; now again it was apparently the old man who was required to follow, serve, worship the figure of youth, of beginning, of mirth. And as he watched this at once senseless and significant dream circle, the dreamer felt alternately identical with the old man and the boy, now revering and now revered, now leading, now obeying; and in the course of these pendulum shifts there came a moment in which he was both, was simultaneously Master and small pupil; or rather he stood above both, was the instigator, conceiver, operator, and onlooker of the cycle, this futile spinning race between age and youth.

The human attitude of which classical music is the expression is always the same; it is always based on the same kind of insight into life and strives for the same kind of victory over blind chance. Classical music as gesture signifies knowledge of the tragedy of the human condition, affirmation of human destiny, courage, cheerful serenity. The grace of a minuet by Handel or Couperin, the sensuality sublimated into delicate gesture to be found in many Italian composers or in Mozart, the tranquil, composed readiness for death in Bach – always there may be heard in these works a defiance, a death-defying intrepidity, a gallantry, and a note of superhuman laughter, of immortal gay serenity. Let that same note also sound in our Glass Bead Games, and in our whole lives, acts, and sufferings.

But it is part of our intellectual arrogance that we confront world history, especially in modern times, in much the same spirit that the hermits and ascetics of early Christianity confronted the theatrum mundi, the great theater of the world. History seems to us an arena of instincts and fashions, of appetite, avarice, and craving for power, of blood lust, violence, destruction, and wars, of ambitious ministers, venal generals, bombarded cities, and we too easily forget that this is only one of its many aspects. Above all we forget that we ourselves are a part of history, that we are the product of growth and are condemned to perish if we lose the capacity for further growth and change. We are ourselves history and share the responsibility for world history and our position in it. But we gravely lack awareness of this responsibility.

It must be granted that many aspects of the intellectual life of that era showed energy and grandeur. We moderns explain its concomitant uncertainty and falseness as a symptom of the horror which seized men when at the end of an era of apparent victory and success they found themselves suddenly confronting a void: great material scarcity, a period of political and military crises, and an accelerating distrust of the intellect itself, of its own virtue and dignity and even of its own existence. Yet that very period, filled though it was with premonitions of doom, was marked by some very fine intellectual achievements,

Oh, if only it were possible to find understanding,” Joseph exclaimed. “If only there were a dogma to believe in. Everything is contradictory, everything tangential; there are no certainties anywhere. Everything can be interpreted one way and then again interpreted in the opposite sense. The whole of world history can be explained as development and progress and can also be seen as nothing but decadence and meaninglessness. Isn’t there any truth? Is there no real and valid doctrine?” The Master had never heard him speak so fervently. He walked on in silence for a little, then said: “There is truth, my boy. But the doctrine you desire, absolute, perfect dogma that alone provides wisdom, does not exist. Nor should you long for a perfect doctrine, my friend. Rather, you should long for the perfection of yourself. The deity is within you, not in ideas and books. Truth is lived, not taught. Be prepared for conflicts, Joseph Knecht—I can see they have already begun.

In any case I fully endorse the singer's attitude towards the booklet that he will write and the child he wishes to educate, for not only am I familiar with the passion for education but the desire to write a small book has for a long time also not been far from my thoughts, and now that I am free of my office this desire has assumed the proportions of a precious and alluring promise—to write a book in all good-humor and at my leisure, a pamphlet, an insignificant booklet for my friends and fellow thinkers.' 'And upon what subject, may I ask?' put in Designori with curiosity. 'Oh the subject would not matter so much. It would merely be an opportunity for me to weave my thoughts around some theme and to enjoy the good fortune of having a great deal of free time. The chief thing in my case would be the tone—a tone not of scholarship but a decorous mean between respect and intimacy, between gravity and playfulness, a friendly communication and utterance of sundry things that I believe I have experienced and learned… In the immediate future I cannot anticipate the joys and problems of writing my little book, for I have to prepare myself the luxury of blossoming into authorship, as I see it, with a comfortable but careful presentation of things, not for my solitary pleasure but always bearing in mind a few good friends and readers.

We know from several statements of Knecht's that he wanted to write the former Master's biography, but official duties left him no time for such a task. He had learned to curb his own wishes. Once he remarked to one of his tutors: "It is a pity that you students aren't fully aware of the luxury and abundance in which you live. But I was exactly the same when I was still a student. We study and work, don't waste much time, and think we may rightly call ourselves industrious–but we are scarcely conscious of all we could do, all that we might make of our freedom. Then we suddenly receive a call from the hierarchy, we are needed, are given a teaching assignment, a mission, a post, and from then on move up to a higher one, and unexpectedly find ourselves caught in a network of duties that tightens the more we try to move inside it. All the tasks are in themselves small, but each one has to be carried out at its proper hour, and the day has far more tasks than hours. That is well; one would not want it to be different. But if we ever think, between classrooms, Archives, secretariat, consulting room, meetings, and official journeys–if we ever think of the freedom we possessed and have lost, the freedom for self-chosen tasks, for unlimited, far-flung studies, we may well feel the greatest yearning for those days, and imagine that if we ever had such freedom again we would fully enjoy its pleasures and potentialities.

In Josef Knechts handschriftlicher Übersetzung: .... denn mögen auch in gewisser Hinsicht und für leichtfertige Menschen die nicht existierenden Dinge leichter und verantwortungsloser durch Worte darzustellen sein als die seienden, so ist es doch für den frommen und gewissenhaften Geschichtsschreiber gerade umgekehrt: nichts entzieht sich der Darstellung durch Worte so sehr und nichts ist doch notwendiger, den Menschen vor Augen zu stellen, als gewisse Dinge, deren Existenz weder beweisbar noch wahrscheinlich ist, welche aber eben dadurch, daß fromme und gewissenhafte Menschen sie gewissermaßen als seiende Dinge behandeln, dem Sein und der Möglichkeit des Geborenwerdens um einen Schritt näher geführt werden.

But in good times his family saw little of him, for then he roamed, fished, hunted, searched for roots, lay in the grass or crouched in trees, sniffed, listened, imitated the voices of animals, kindled little fires and compared the shapes of the smoke clouds with the clouds in the sky, drenched his skin and hair with fog, rain, air, sun, or moonlight, and incidentally gathered, as his Master and predecessor Turu had done in his lifetime, objects whose inner character and outward form seemed to belong to different realms, in which the wisdom or whimsicality of nature seemed to reveal some fragment of her rules and secrets of creation, objects which seemed to unite symbolically widely disparate ideas: gnarled branches with the faces of men or animals, water-polished pebbles grained like wood, petrified animals of the primordial world, misshapen or twinned fruit pits, stones shaped like kidneys or hearts.

Then the Yogi suddenly fell silent, and when I looked puzzled he shrugged and said: ‘Don’t you see yourself where the fault lies?’ But I could not see it. At this point he recapitulated with astonishing exactness everything he had learned from me by his questioning. He went back to the first signs of fatigue, repugnance, and intellectual constipation, and showed me that this could have happened only to someone who had submerged himself disproportionately in his studies and that it was high time for me to recover my self-control, and to regain my energy with outside help. Since I had taken the liberty of discontinuing my regular meditation exercises, he pointed out, I should at least have realized what was wrong as soon as the first evil consequences appeared, and should have resumed meditation. He was perfectly right. I had omitted meditating for quite a while on the grounds that I had no time, was too distracted or out of spirits, or too busy and excited with my studies. Moreover, as time went on I had completely lost all awareness of my continuous sin of omission. Even now, when I was desperate and had almost run aground, it had taken an outsider to remind me of it. As a matter of fact, I was to have the greatest difficulty snapping out of this state of neglect. I had to return to the training routines and beginners’ exercises in meditation in order gradually to relearn the art of composing myself and sinking into contemplation.” With a small sigh the Magister ceased pacing the room. “That is what happened to me, and to this day I am still a little ashamed to talk about it. But the fact is, Joseph, that the more we demand of ourselves, or the more our task at any given time demands of us, the more dependant we are on meditation as a wellspring of energy, as the ever-renewing concord of mind and soul. And – I could if I wished give you quite a few more examples of this – the more intensively a task requires our energies, arousing and exalting us at one time, tiring and depressing us at another, the more easily we may come to neglect this wellspring, just as when we are carried away by some intellectual work we easily forget to attend to the body. The really great men in the history of the world have all either known how to meditate or have unconsciously found their way to the place to which meditation leads us. Even the most vigorous and gifted among the others all failed and were defeated in the end because their task or their ambitious dream seized hold of them, made them into persons so possessed that they lost the capacity for liberating themselves from present things, and attaining perspective. Well, you know all this; it’s taught during the first exercises, of course. But it is inexorably true. How inexorably true it is, one realizes only after having gone astray.