February 11th, 2010
He felt his reluctance [to accompany his wife and child on a long stay at a sanitarium] to be sheer selfishness, but perhaps it was more a sort of self-dissolution, for he had never before been apart from his wife for even as much as a whole day; he had loved her very much, but through the child’s coming this love had become frangible, like a stone that water has seeped into, gradually disintegrating it. [He] was very astonished by this new quality his life had acquired, this frangibility, for to the best of his knowledge and belief nothing of the love itself had ever been lost…
Robert Musil, “Grigia,” in Five Women, brought to mind by Meaghan. The idea of love being frangible, something gradually dissolved, has stayed with me; I find it frightening. It is easy enough to guard against the sudden, punctuated moment, the dramatic episode; against this geologic disintegration we must be more vulnerable.
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love robert musil geology and love
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Hello! My name is Mills Baker. I write about art, culture, love, philosophy, memory, history, and more. Here are some relatively better posts. This site has been featured on Tumblr Tuesday and is listed in the Spotlight, but it pines for its youth as a coloring book. (Header lettering by the amazing Chirp).