From Gostan Zarian's Notebooks, Diaries, & Conversation

[ara baliozian]

From Gostan Zarian's Notebooks, Diaries, & Conversations

*************************************************

Beirut / April 1954

Rain.

Went to Antelias with Father Shahen and Shahan Berberian.

I told them, the Armenian church has become another shop.

April 6, 1954

Dinner with Shahen Vartabed and Shahan Berberian.

Old memories, new hopes.

Shahan understands a little of everything.

Generally speaking, the Armenian atmosphere is stifling.

Salzburg / December 12, 1956

Everywhere Mozart, Mozart, Mozart.

He has become a source of revenue, he who was buried in a paupers’ grave.

Vienna / March 14, 1957

For a number of years now, we have been living like monks.

Once in a while a play or a concert, nothing else.

I don't see any Armenians, which is no great loss.

Vienna / April 5, 1957

We must oppose the concept of art as entertainment.

Art must be a mission and a destiny.

One must be more than an artist.

Florence / November 26, 1957

Dinner with Mrs. Mann-Borgese [Thomas Mann’s daughter].

Long conversations about literature and her father.

I didn't know that Thomas Mann’s mother was a Brazilian

and he had thus a dual sensibility: German and Latin.

Mrs. Mann-Borgese is herself a talented woman and the author of many

essays.

She can't be said to be a great beauty,

but is endowed with qualities far superior to beauty:

a graceful bearing and a high degree of intelligence

***

Five months now that I have not seen a single Armenian newspaper.

So much the better.

The only thing that connects me to my fellow Armenians is the language.

April 1958

We always forget that what interests us is not the nation itself

but our conception of it. (My case.)

 

Yerevan / 1961-1969

God created the world, but the Dutch created

Holland. Armenians would have done the same if

they had not relied too much on others.

***

With us, the emphasis is on cunning: a character

trait of slaves, devoid of creative impetus,

never a source of strength.

***

Dante once wrote to a friend: "I found the

prototype of my Inferno right here where I now

live."

***

"The world is an opinion," Marcus Aurelius tells

us.

***

We are like the stars, divided by infinite

spaces. By obliterating the physical dimension,

death (and here is its beauty) obliterates these

spaces too.

***

It has been the destiny of all great men to be belittled by little men.

***

Greater wisdom imposes a greater strain upon a man.

***

For an authentic writer nothing can be as easy as being difficult;

and nothing can be as difficult as being easy.

"Make it simple," Oscar Wilde once wrote to a friend from jail,

"otherwise I will think you have nothing to hide."

That which is simple has many layers of meaning.

Simplicity is like the skin that covers muscles, nerves, and all the

other secrets of the body.

That which is difficult has nothing to say. When you finally unravel its

mysteries you discover it is devoid of all sense. And those who praise

this kind of writing are either simple-minded dupes or cunning operators

whose hidden motives have nothing to do with literature.

***

It has been observed that persecuted minorities tend to cling to

second-hand verities and to consider material possessions as the greatest

boon.

***

The Armenian communities of the Diaspora are dominated by shopkeepers,

pseudo-intellectuals, and clergymen. A miscellaneous crew of rascals with

fat bellies and swollen egos. There you have the nucleus around which our

collective existence revolves. This indeed ought to be the central issue

of our literature of the Diaspora.