Negativity: Part 2

(MENAFN - The Post) Last week I quoted a well-known maxim devised by the brilliant twentieth-century writer Antonio Gramsci: ''pessimism of the intellect, optimism of the will.'' This amounts to advice to remain clear-headed without succumbing to negativity, which is soul-destroying for everyone.Gramsci (1891-1937) was an Italian polymath (someone with multiple skills: in his case, as philosopher, linguist and journalist). A leading Marxist theoretician, he founded the Italian Communist Party. Imprisoned by Mussolini's Fascist regime, he was refused access to medical attention, despite a serious illness that had plagued him all his life and which led to his death at the age of 46. His work remains especially important for contemporary discussions of the relationship between politics and culture�in my view, an inescapable relationship (''art for art's sake'' is, surely, a self-indulgent fantasy). His understanding of Marxism was humanist, steering a path between hardline dialectical materialism and pre-Marxist idealism. Hence his maxim (to give it in its full version): ''I am a pessimist because of intelligence, but an optimist because of will.'' In other words, if you have your head screwed on straight, you probably know something's going to turn out badly, but because of the unquenchable human spirit�for many, informed by faith�you hope that it won''t and, most importantly, you take action to help ensure that it does not. For any of my readers who would like to pursue Gramsci's writing�and I encourage you to do so�probably the best place to begin is his Prison Notebooks, which give a good idea why, with Che Guevara, he is regarded as the poster boy of the Left. Meanwhile, and because you deserve a breather, here's a joke about negativity. Reflect on the following when negative people do their best to dampen your enthusiasm:A woman was at her hairdresser's getting her hair styled for a trip to Rome with her husband, and mentioned the trip to the hairdresser, who responded:''Rome? Why would anyone want to go there? It's crowded and dirty�You''re crazy to go to Rome . . . anyway, leave that aside; how are you getting there?'' ''We''re taking British Airways,'' was the reply. ''We got a great deal on the fare!'' ''British Airways?'' exclaimed the hairdresser, ''that's a terrible airline. Their planes are old, their flight attendants are rude, and the flights are always late. So, anyway, where are you staying in Rome?''''We''ll be at this exclusive little hotel on the bank of the Tiber River. It's called Caravaggio.'' ''Don''t go any further. I know that place. Everyone thinks it's going to be something special and exclusive, but it's really a dump. Anyway, suit yourself. What do you plan to do in Rome?''''We''re going to visit the Vatican and maybe get to see the Pope.''''That's crazy,'' laughed the hairdresser. ''You and a million other people trying to see him. He''ll look like the size of an ant. Boy, good luck on this trip of yours. You''re going to need it.'' A month later, the woman came back in to the hairdressing salon. The hairdresser asked her about her trip to Rome.''It was wonderful,'' said the woman. ''Not only were we on time in one of British Airways'' brand new planes, but it was overbooked and so they upgraded us to first class. The food and wine were wonderful, and I had a sweet, handsome 28-year-old steward who waited on me hand and foot. And the hotel was great. They''d just finished a $5 million renovation job. Now it's a jewel. The finest little hotel in the city. As they, too, were overbooked, they apologised and offered us the penthouse suite at no extra charge!''''Well,'' muttered the hairdresser, ''that's all well and good, but I bet you didn''t get to see the Pope.'' ''Actually we were quite lucky, because as we toured the Vatican an official tapped me on the shoulder, explaining the Pope likes to meet some of the visitors�if I''d be so kind to step into the private room and wait, the Pope would personally greet me. Sure enough, five minutes later, the Pope walked through the door and shook my hand. I knelt down to kiss his ring and he spoke a few words to me.'' ''Oh, really! What did he say?''He said: ''Who the hell did your hair?''To be concluded Chris Dunton Like this:Like Loading...MENAFN01062021000229011070ID1102189032