Don Quixote! Don Quixote! I claim this is my favourite book, but I’ve only read it through twice, and I can look over and see it on my bookshelf with a forlorn bookmark about two-thirds through it. But hope springs eternal, or, as Sancho says, “until death, all is life.”
Until death, all is life
Granted, Sancho is talking about this in the context of self-flagellating himself half to death for the benefit of an imaginary person. And if that’s not a metaphor for a lot of our lives, I don’t know what is.
But… hope springs eternal, you know? It really does.
“Hasta la muerte, todo es vida.”
One way to take “until death, all is life” is the paraphrase “everything can be celebrated, because it shows you’re alive,” which parses into “celebrate pain,” which is totally metal and makes me want to put spikes on my bicycle helmet and braid my beard.
It’s good when things in life turn out to be totally metal, and also true. No matter what grim circumstance you’re in, until death, all is life. There’s always the chance for a comeback, a turnaround, an upset.
It’s also pretty Zen — if you’re having a hard time dealing, reduce your life to two states: life and not-life, and just focus on the fact that you’re in the “life” category. That’s not bad either.
I really should finish Don Quixote. I also started Moby Dick last summer, and never finished it either. That one was because I wanted to read it while I was in Newfoundland, but couldn’t find a copy to buy, so I put it on my iPad. iPad reading turned out to be not my bag.
You know what I’m going to do today? I’m’a pick up Don Quixote again. Let’s go, Man of La Mancha. Moby Dick, you’re on notice.
“Hasta la muerte, todo es vida.” Metal.