More from Witold Gombrowicz

Finished Trans-Atlantyk (boombang) and am now splitting time (like an atom) between his Dziennik (Diary) and Cosmos (his last, and IMHO his best, novel).

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From his Diary:

     Upon meeting the young painter Eichler at the Grodzickis', I said: I don't believe in painting! (To musicians I say, I don't believe in music!) Then I found out from Zygmunt Grocholski that Eichler asked him if I make up these paradoxes for the hell of it. They can't imagine how much truth there is in them, truth that is probably truer than the truths that nourish their slavish "attachment" to art.

From Cosmos:

I was particularly astonished by the fact that both their mouths were now, in my imagination, in my memory, more closely linked together than then, at the table, I tried to clear my head by shaking it, but that made the connection of Lena's lips with Katasia's lips even more clear-cut, so I smirked, because truly, Katasia's twirled-up lasciviousness, her slipping into swinish lust had nothing, absolutely nothing in common with the fresh parting and innocent closing of Lena's lips, it's just that one was "in relation to the other" -- as on a map, where one city is in relation to another city -- anyway, the idea of maps had entered my head, a map of the sky, or an ordinary map with cities, etc. The entire "connection" was not really a connection, merely one mouth considered in relation to another mouth, in the sense of distance, for example, of direction and position... nothing more... but, while I now estimated that Katasia's mouth was most likely somewhere in the vicinity of the kitchen (she slept thereabouts), in fact I wondered where, in what direction, and at what distance was it from Lena's little mouth. And my coldly-lustful striving in the hallway toward Katasia underwent a dislocation because of Lena's incidental intrusion.