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Kostas Vrachnos
There is an analogy between the young who ignore the privilege of youth and the old who forget the privilege of having reached the age of maturity: both are equally ungrateful for the inconceivable gift of existence. Hence the paradox whereby the young rush to mature and the old are obsessed with pretending to be young. The difference lies in the fact that the former suffer less from their inner lag, as modern (and ageing) societies are increasingly built on the recent cult of youth, as if this passing stage were a permanent state that exclusively holds the keys to bliss.
Indeed, science and technology have increased life expectancy by 20 to 30 years. However, it is not life that has been prolonged, but old age and its fantasies of rejuvenation, a development with tremendous demographic, economic, sociological, but also anthropological and ontological consequences. In this context, the great achievement of retirement becomes a disgrace for its beneficiaries, who are barely aware of this gift.
Between the prototype of youth and the mania for happiness, young people, brimming with will, energy, beauty, egocentrism and hedonism, move as undisputed and advantaged protagonists of the game. Even so, they are devoid of two key factors: the treasured experience and the necessary distance, which shape consciousness itself and make proper evaluation possible. Impatient and naïve by nature, young people waste time, believing it to be infinite, omitting to live the moment or living it as a mere instant and not as a condensation of the vital ("What is the whole of life, lost in the ocean of eternity, but a great instant", says the master Jankélévitch). What the years bring is precisely that sense of contingency and transience that reveals the meaning and dramatic value of earthly things, together with a kind of preponderance of contemplation over action and of knowing how to distinguish the futile from the substantial, which guarantee, in the end, pleasure in the fullest sense of the word. Thus, contrary to the mentality of the time and in accordance with that tradition which does not identify knowledge with pain, but associates knowledge with enjoyment, Bruckner maintains no more and no less than that we are actually happiest from the middle of the road, when we can already value youth; that, from the age of 50 onwards, we enjoy each day more intensely, knowing that time will never come back.
Photo by Nicole Molina Pernalete - 1st Edition CENIE Photo Competition
Suddenly, we hear the ancient voice warning about the superiority of spiritual pleasures over bodily pleasures. Only for the ancient wisdom these delights are achieved through the quenching of the "base" appetites. It is therefore questionable to what extent Plato is right in the first book of the Republic, when in the first book of the Republic the old man Cephalus sighs with relief that in old age we are finally free from the tyranny of desires, when nowadays it is precisely the de-culpabilisation of desire and delight that keeps the interest and enthusiasm of old people for life alive. An optimistic world view is hardly compatible with ascetic principles. What is needed, now and always, is care for the quality of satisfaction, regulated in this case by a shrewd and restrained realism.
Bruckner respects the Mystery too much to hand out lessons or instructions left and right. His whole problematic around the question "how to grow old well" revolves around the idea of a worthy and intelligent use of the very short time we are given as a gift. He is not obsessed with the pursuit of happiness at all costs, but an aspirant to make the best possible use of the countless possibilities of life, always within the implacable and insurmountable limits of life.... There is an ethical undercurrent behind his remarks on the subject, which has to do with the conviction that law must retain its prerogative character and never become a demand. We must be humble, i.e. grateful, and not greedy, complaining; perhaps, to a certain extent, make or keep children, but not spoiled.
From one point of view, our sojourn is so brief and our ignorance so great that any division into absolute periods seems almost comical. We pass from one age to another without hardly noticing it, until we reach -if we are lucky enough not to perish first- to old age with a sense of having been caught by surprise. We change ages totally perplexed, unprepared, unprepared, astonished. But is there any astonishment that can compare with that of finding oneself in the world? And it is certainly the metaphysical aptitude for this existential astonishment that for Bruckner conditions the quality of all that is worldly.
The question of "making the most" of our presence concerns all living people, regardless of their physical, mental and spiritual age, and is primarily concerned with living each moment to the full, recognising its inestimable value and trying to make the best possible use of it. In this context, longevity can be considered an excellent achievement only if the lengthening of life means an extension of the time to explore, realise and celebrate it. In any case, one can hardly make the most of or thoroughly enjoy anything in this world, if one does not first feel gratitude for being alive, or at least feel at least minimally fortunate to have been born. The "little summer" of life, the period of renewal and hope that we are given beyond our fifties, should not be wasted in any way. And when can we say that it is wasted? When, subjected to the crazy prejudices of a chronophobic and gerontophobic society, we withdraw from the dynamics of desire and retire from life - as well as from work - and die before our time. In his philosophy of longevity, Bruckner places special emphasis on the subject of the love of the elderly, the last great taboo that we need to demolish, where the self-destructive attitude of humans is eloquently reflected, by voluntarily renouncing a gift that gives existence meaning and joy, and that helps to reinvent and restart it. Of course, there are objective limitations and we must realistically admit that as life progresses the range of opportunities becomes more limited. But it is important, on the one hand, to rescue and nurture that exploratory mentality typical of children and young people and, on the other, to calmly assume that there are unrealisable options, doors closed by biology. The prudence that the years provide points out doors that remain to be explored in greater depth. And the world is incredibly unfathomable and awaits the beings who explore it.
Photo by Bahram Bayat - 1st Edition CENIE Photo Contest
Pascal Bruckner comes to remind us of what is so often forgotten: that to be born is a supreme gift and to be alive an unimaginable privilege, an omnipresent miracle to which corresponds the continuous amazement. The secret - if there is one - of a happy old age is the same that applies to all ages and refers to cultivating one's abilities, reclaiming one's passions, reshaping one's destiny without fear, shame or guilt, learning to appreciate what one has, harmonising carpe diem with sensible projects. But let us have no illusions: it is impossible to leave our radius of perception and action and reap what we have not sown. Age brings nothing that we have not been instilling since childhood. Even if it sounds a bit like cheap spirituality, it is worth trusting that if we love life, life will love us and treat us well. Hence the greatest duty of the former young towards the future old lies in teaching them to love life, in preparing them to be sensitive to its preciousness, despite its difficulties, injustices, miseries, losses and absurdities, or, if you prefer, taking it all as the just price of the surplus of surviving, for one enjoys only what one loses. Now, as for the "short time that remains of life, it should neither be desired greedily, nor rejected without cause", Cicero advises. In any case, according to Seneca, "life is long enough, and to accomplish the most important things it has been generously bestowed upon us, if all of it is well spent". Neither the inevitability and imminence of death nor suffering in its many forms should lead us to forget the wonderful privilege of existing. Bruckner alludes to a simple phrase of the Cordovan thinker that has marked him deeply: "Every day we must thank God for being alive". It is as simple as that.
About the author
Kostas Vrachnos (Kalamata, 1975). He holds degrees in Philosophy and Theology (University of Athens, 1998 and 2008, respectively) and a PhD in Philosophy (University of Salamanca, 2003). He has published the poetry collections El hambre del cocinero (2008) and Encima del subsuelo (2014), the essay El misterio como problema (2010) and the books of short stories Dios mediante (2017) and Vladivostok (2020). He has translated, among others, C. E. de Ory, J. V. Piqueras, M. Labordeta, O. Girondo and J. Cortázar. Civil servant in the Ministry of Culture and Sport. Contributor to the magazine Frear.