Solve et Coagula

En relación con el miedo a la complejidad, un fragmento de una entrevista a Alan Moore, quizá el más creativo, fascinante y polifacético de los escritores contemporáneos de comic:

With reference to my interest over the last 10 years in magic, one of the most useful formulas in alchemy, specifically, is “solve et coagula,” where “solve” is the act of dissolving something, where we take something apart and study how it works — what in our modern terms would be called analysis. In a scientific framework, it would be called reductionism. The other part of the formula is “coagula,” which is synthesis rather than analysis, holism rather than reductionism, the act of putting something back together in a hopefully improved form. Once you take the watch to pieces and see what was making it run slow, you put it back together and hopefully it works better.

I’d say that we’ve had an awful lot of “solve” in our culture, but far too little “coagula.” There are people who seem daunted by the complexity of our culture to the point that they’ll shy away from it rather than try to put those thousands of jigsaw pieces together into some sort of useful, coherent picture.

En efecto, hemos tenido demasiado “solve” y demasiado poco “coagula” en nuestra cultura… ¡y en nuestras consultas terapéuticas! A veces me parece, incluso, que nuestros intentos de “pensar sistémicamente” se enredan en interminables análisis.

Sin embargo, vale la pena recordar que el “coagula” nunca será más que tentativo. Nuestras imágenes serán siempre parciales; y nunca podremos saber todos los efectos de nuestros actos.

Lo cual nos recuerda el valor de la humildad, de comprender en qué posición te encuentras -y hasta dónde puedes saltar.

Parusía y venganza

V for Vendetta

The Second Coming

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all convictions, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of
Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all around it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

W. B. Yeats