Synthesis falsifies—and is the only truth. It seems to me strange that this perception induced a pervading tristesse in Cocteau; but that in Picasso, the Orpheus-piper, there is a probable gay arrogance: over the disparate, heteroclite, finally meaningless unaggregable things.
What is one to conclude of genius? That it is associative, that it is spontaneous, that it is instinctive; that it is assumption and not deduction.
Already have an account? Log in
Join KR for even more to read.
Sign up for a free account and read any five pieces a month.
Previous