martes, 20 de mayo de 2008

el espejo

Hoy no fui a trabajar, y aprovechando el día me puse a leer uno de mis libros favoritos, "La historia interminable" de Michael Ende. Justo abrí en la parte de las 3 puertas; la primera, se llama la puerta del Gran Enigma, la segunda la Puerta del Espejo mágico, y la tercera la Puerta sin llave.

La primera tiene dos esfinges, siempre está abierta, sin embargo nadie puede entrar, salvo si las esfinges cierran los ojos. La cuestión era que solo dejan pasar a algunos visitantes. Después de arduos estudios el gnomo Enguivuck se preguntaba si las esfinges se basaban en caracteristicas de las personas, como la belleza, la estatura, fuerza, o simplemente alguna relación numérica. Llegó a la conclusión final de que la decisión de las esfinges es totalmente casual y no tiene lógica alguna. Y aconseja a Atreyu, el héroe que tiene que pasar por las 3 puertas..."Debes hacer lo que tengas que hacer"

La segunda puerta, para mi la mas increíble, es la del espejo. Esta puerta está tanto abierta como cerrada, o mas bien, no esta cerrada ni abierta. Cuando se está ante el, se ve uno a sí mismo,, pero no como un espejo corriente, no se ve el exterior, sino el verdadero interior de la persona, tal como en realidad es. Quien quiera atravesarlo tiene que penetrar en sí mismo. Enguivuck dice que ha comprobado que los visitantes qe se consideran especialmente intachables huyen gritando del monstruo que los mira irónicamente desde el espejo.


Entonces, los que se creen muy buenos, reflejan su maldad; los que se creen muy guapos reflejan su fealdad; los que se creen valientes, reflejan su cobardía; entonces huyen despavoridos, llenos de terror.

Los libros de Michael Ende, que son vistos como de ciencia ficción, son mas bien libros que plasman la filosofía en una historia de mitos y fantasías.

La historia de las 3 puertas es una enseñanza de como debemos enfrentar la vida; si las cosas cambian por azar, si estas en alguna parte de tu vida donde las cosas estan fuera de tus manos, solo haz lo que tengas que hacer.

En el caso del espejo, si se asomaran los buenitos que se dedican a criticar y señalar con el dedo a los demás, que tienen la tonta idea de que por ir a algún grupo religioso pueden juzgar a los demás "alejados"; seguramente se reflejaría su grandísima soberbia y su parte de maldad, que todos tenemos. No hay nadie totalmente malo, ni totalmente bueno, todos somos una mezcla. Tampoco hay nadie totalmente bello, ni totalmente feo. Aveces la belleza está en las pequeñas fallas. Creo que lo que Ende nos quiere enseñar es que es mejor no creerse totalmente de alguna manera, ni subestimarse y decir que somos malos, irremediables o estúpidos. Todos somos tan diferentes como cambiantes.

Pero, se preguntarán, ¿Qué hay de la 3era puerta?.....

La Puerta Sin Llave, está simplemente cerrada, no tiene cerraduras y es indestructible. Reacciona a nuestra voluntad. Es precisamente nuestra voluntad la que la hace tan resistente. Cuanto más se quiere entrar, tanto más se cierra la puerta. Pero cuando alguien logra olvidar sus intenciones y no querer nada... La puerta se abre sola ante él.

lunes, 5 de mayo de 2008

In the name of the father

We carry our parents with us into our mistakes or achievements...

written by Terry George & Jim Sheridan, from book by Gerry Conlon

Gerry: Why do you always follow me? Huh? I mean, why do you always follow me when I do something wrong? Why can't you follow me when I do something right?
Giuseppe: What are you talking about?
Gerry: Huh? What am I talking about? I'm talking about the medal.
Giuseppe: What medal?
Gerry: What fucking medal? What fucking medal? The only fucking medal that was ever in our house. That fucking medal. The medal I won at football. And you sat on the sidelines shouting instructions like you could only see what I was doing - you couldn't even play football- and you could only see what I was doing wrong. I could never do anything good enough for you. And after the game, you came up to me and you said, you said "Gerry, did you foul the ball?" And I walked away from you, do you remember now? I walked away from you into the dressing room. You followed me in there and you said again "Gerry, did you foul the ball?" And all the other fathers were in there, they were laughing at you, calling you "Poor Giuseppe" And I ran out, and I hid, and I wrote your name on the ground -- your stupid Giuseppe fucking name. I wrote it in the dirt and I fucking pissed on it. I pissed on it, because I did foul the ball. What did it matter? We won. For once in our lives, we won. You ruined that medal for me. I took it to the pawn, and they laughed at me -- they wouldn't even give me 50 pence for it.
Giuseppe: This is shock.
Gerry: And that's when I started to rob, to prove that I was no good.
Giuseppe: Delayed shock.
Gerry: Delayed shock? Never mind delayed shock. I've been like this since I was seven. I remember Mammy said to me "Don't upset Giuseppe. He's not well." Oh dear Lord.not well. So we'd tiptoe 'round the house like this, tiptoesing around the house. "Not well, you know. He's not well" Then I got Holy Communion. I thought I was eating you alive. I mean, is it my fault you weren't well? Why did you have to be sick all your life, Giuseppe? Huh? What'd you have to be sick all your life for? When that mad bastard out there threatened to shoot you, I was happy. I swear to God. Honest to God, I was happy. I was delighted! You know why? Because finally it was all over. It was over ! You see? And then I knew I was bad. I knew I was bad then, you see, so I started to cry. I started to tell lies - the same fucking lies I've been telling all my gobshite fucking life. (begins making incomprehensible sounds) Ha wa weh leuh blah wha... (continues) You know what that means? It means words don't mean nothing.
Giuseppe: Stop this.
Gerry: Only this time I got everyone into trouble. But it doesn't matter does it, 'cause I'm no good anyhow. Doesn't matter. Ah, keep away from me. You've been following me all your fucking life and now here you are in jail. Are you doing this deliberately?
Giuseppe: No.
Gerry: Are you doing it deliberately?
Giuseppe: Stop it.
Gerry: Are you doing it deliberately?(Giuseppe slaps him)
Gerry: You call that a fucking dig, ha? Do you call that a fucking dig? Hit me harder. (starts hitting himself on the head) Hit me like that. Hit me fucking harder. Hit me fucking harder.
Giuseppe: Stop it.
Gerry: For once in your fucking life...
Giuseppe: Gerry, please stop this.
Gerry: ... Hit me like a real father.
Giuseppe: Gerry calm down. Stop it.(Giuseppe holds Gerry)
Giuseppe: Just, just relax. Try to relax. You're alright. It's okay. Its not your fault son, all right? Everything's gonna be alright.

.......and then we regret