Writing

Use in the book

Socrates pairs writing with reading as a task Lysis’ parents already entrust to him. Within it he can decide which letter to write first and which second. Γράφειν is the present infinitive; γραφῆναι, in the preceding sentence, means “to be written.”

The example is narrow and concrete. It illustrates informed control over an activity, not unlimited freedom to assert whatever one wishes. The associated γράμματα here are the letters being ordered, not a title for all literature or advanced learning.

Places to read

1. 209bὅτι ἂν βούλῃ πρῶτον τῶν γραμμάτων γράφειν — to write whichever of the letters you want first.
2. 209a

Use in the book

Writing can become inseparable from knowing: the late circular formulation requires prior knowledge yet says some things are known well only when one thinks of writing them. Reflection also changes a writer’s relation to naturalness. In one particular sense natural writing is unreflective writing, but someone who has reflected on style cannot return to the position of someone who never attended to it. The paired natural facility and acquired difficulty gives another formulation: art, reflection and taste bring resistance into an otherwise easy activity. These local claims should be held together without turning them into a fixed recipe.

Places to read

1. II, p. 898, entry 4, ¶1Knowing and preparing to write depend reciprocally on each other.
2. II, p. 541, entry 5, ¶1Reflection changes the conditions of apparently natural writing.
3. II, p. 755, entry 2, ¶1Natural facility is paired with acquired artistic difficulty.
4. I, p. 251, entry 2, ¶3Seeking words may be a search for an incomplete thought.

Translation in this edition

The English translation preserves “In this sense” and the circular restrictions instead of reconciling them into a universal prescription. The damaged forms rendered [difficulty] remain qualified. Écriture as an inscribed sign system is treated separately under Sign.

Use in the book

The notebook repeatedly records the conditions under which writing fails. Severe suffering can leave no freedom for observation; weeks pass without a word. Elsewhere an unfinished sentence is resumed after several days, only to be interrupted by the present sky. Such breaks are part of the account's temporal texture. They should not all be assigned the same cause, especially where the printed apparatus separately reports erasure or missing leaves.

Writing also preserves threatened happiness. Guérin hurries to record exaltation before it passes and prepares memories that his future self will reread. In Paris he produces articles because attachment to his father and friends supplies an energy he does not find alone. The written work has intimate, prospective, and practical uses beyond public literary ambition.

Its relation to originality is troubled. A finished attempt can look like a pastiche made from colors scraped off other people's palettes. In December 1834 he watches the shadows of his imaginings cross the paper like summer cloud shadows: the writing captures movement without making it a permanent possession.

Finally, reticence becomes a positive value. Quietly guarded inward wealth may contain more strength and beauty than its fullest display. This late ideal does not cancel the notebook's existence. It poses a question about the audience, manner, and cost of disclosure: what can be made visible without losing the very life the words are meant to preserve?

Places to read

1. 3 March 1833 · ¶1The retrospective opening explains sparse writing through suffering that prevented sustained observation.
2. 1 October 1833 · ¶1A resumed sentence is interrupted by new perception, displaying writing's changing present.
3. 16 March 1834 · ¶1Journalistic work is sustained by love for father and friends rather than confidence in literary ability.
4. 10 June 1834 · ¶1The completed work disappoints as a mixture of borrowed colors, making originality an explicit concern.
5. 10 December 1834 · ¶4Writing is figured as moving shadows on paper, a trace of volatile imaginings.

Translation in this edition

“Pastiche” is retained in English and means an imitative composition here. The painting metaphor specifies the charge: borrowed remnants are crudely combined. It should not be silently replaced by the stronger accusation of plagiarism.