I've been quite horrendously busy recently, but I have managed to read a book here and there. According to my little list the last three things I actually finished were The Brooklyn Follies, Perfume, and The Worm Ourobouros.
What good is knowledge if you don't use it to stop your friends from being destroyed?
The Brooklyn Follies, Paul Auster
Everywhere, in every direction, humanity lay equally remote from him, and a step in any direction would have meant closer proximity to human beings. The compass spun about. It no longer provided orientation. Grenouille was at his goal. And at the same time he was taken captive.
Perfume, Patrick Suskind
Do not defile mine ears with their excuses. They have shamefully abused us; and the guilt of their black deed planteth them day by day more firmlier in my deeper-settled hate ...
Wait a second. I don't think there's anything true in The Worm Ourobouros. Fortunately, I've also been reading a collection of essays by Martin Heidegger:
The relation to the world that pervades all the sciences as such lets them -- each according to its particular content and mode of being -- seek beings themselves in order to make them objects of investigation and to determine their grounds. According to the idea behind them, in the sciences we approach what is essential in all things. This distinctive relation to the world in which we turn toward beings themselves is supported and guided by a freely chosen attitude of human existence. To be sure, man's prescientific and extrascientific activities also are related to beings. But science is exceptional in that, in a way peculiar to it, it gives the matter itself explicitly and solely the first and last word. In such impartiality of inquiring, determining, and grounding, a peculiarly delineated submission to beings themselves obtains, in order that they may reveal themselves. This position of service in research and theory evolves in such a way as to become the ground of the possibility of a proper though limited leadership in the whole of human existence.
"What is Metaphysics?", Martin HeideggerIt might not be fiction, and Heidegger would deny it was even metaphysics, but there it is.
Tagging exp_err, capnoblivious, and jack_ryder.