rei! @roundtit@masto.anarch.cc

finally finished reading "function and field" from ecrits
was ok definitely an interesting read
i'll come back to lacan after i finish some more husserl i think

#introduction
Hi! I'm rei! I'm a girl on the internet. or something.
These day's i'm mostly working on translating things from french or ancient greek, and pursuing my interests in philosophy.
Right now i'm working through Proust, Newton, Laruelle, and Aristotle. That list will change as I finish books and change out my stack and whatever.
Stick around if u like!

excited to continue on this tomorrow, if i have the time.

the sort of,,, phasing in and out of consciousness that's been taking place so far during the book has been. strangely pleasant?? even if it frequently involves a sort of flow back and forth of our narrator, from himself, his description is an object, where he flows into the description, becomes his own object. etc.
there's a weird melancholy to the dreams, too - they're charming, but also sometimes terrifying, requiring defense, and the poor guy just keeps waking up

More swann!
This is the next two paragraphs.

I got back to sleep and sometimes I had some short moments of waking, enough to hear the normal cracking of the house, to open my eyes to fasten on the kaleidoscopic darkness, to taste through a fleeting flash of consciousness the sleep into which was plunged the furniture, the chamber, all of which I was only a small part and to its unconsciousness I would soon unite. Or frequently in sleep I had recalled effortlessly an age I could never return to of my early life, finding some of my childhood terrors, like those of when my great uncle would pull my curls, that had dissipated the day – the dawn of a new era for me – when they were cut. I had forgotten that event during my sleep, in encountering again the memory I also had succeeded at waking myself to escape the hands of my great uncle, but as a measure of precaution I completely encircled my head with my pillow before returning to the world of dreams.

Sometimes, like Eve was born from Adam’s rib, a woman is born during my sleep from a strange position of my leg. Formed of pleasure that I was on the point of tasting, I imagined that it was she that offered it to me. As my body that felt in hers my own heat willed to join to it, I woke up. The rest of humanity appeared very distant to me compared to that woman who with difficulty I had left some moments ago; my cheek was still warm from her kiss, my body still aching for her presence. If, like it sometimes happened, she had the traits of a woman that I had known in life, I gave myself entirely to one goal: to find her, like those who leave on a journey to see with their own eyes a city desired, and imagined that one can then taste in reality the charm of one’s dream.

@gayfesh hi gayfesh

now of course i shall worry “am i harping too much on this sentence while having very little to say really about it?”

proust cool 👍 i see why guattari was all abt him

translated 2 more paragraphs of proust. going to try and analyze the sections I have down so far since there’s a lot to unpack here as is before i move on
lots of interesting things about permeability and flows and moving between dream states, as well as one’s relationship to the “outside” and etc

@exiliaex what kind of bird is that

deeply upsetting that in parts of physics that should have nothing to do with ptolemy you see him crop right back up just like that
oh yeah that phenomena right there??? quadratix of a uniform circular motion. go away!!!

sine curves….

@gayfesh need to find a way to get my hands on one of those

procrastinating my assigned french translations by translating something else

this is very inefficient!

getting way into translating proust but then as soon as i have to touch my french homework again i am like oh ew no gross why would i do that

I really like this paragraph - it was a joy to translate, has a few plays on words in the original french (joues for cheek is repeated, bonheur is said by the sick man but is also how the narrator describes his time of going to sleep - bonne heur)
also captures very nicely a very specific sort of *shock* at waking up and realizing something has gone wrong, but only a few moments too late

Paragraph 2 of Du Cote De Chez Swann
I tenderly lay my cheeks against the lovely cheeks of the pillow which was full and fresh like the cheeks of our childhood. I struck a match to check my watch. Midnight soon. In the moment where a sick man, who had been obliged to leave on a journey and has gone to sleep in an unfamiliar hotel, is awoken by a spasm, he rejoices when he catches sight of a ray of daylight under the door. What a joy, it is already morning! In a moment, the servants will be getting up, he can ring, and one will come to help him. the expectation of relief gives him the courage to suffer. He hears footsteps; they draw closer, then move away. And the ray of daylight which was under the door has disappeared. It is midnight; someone came to extinguish the gas; the last servant left and he will remain nearly the whole night to suffer without remedy.

@ObscureLeftist pretty solid time or something