The Interpretation of Murder, by Jed Rubenfeld

A couple of days ago I found this book in a crate, at the ABC, and got very interested. It’s about Freud and his visit to the US, but seen from another perspective: murder and mystery. So I decided to give it a try, just for the heck of it. After all, I’m not that much of a mystery and thriller reader, but you never know…

The first words got me right away. How true.

“There is no mystery to happiness.

Unhappy men are all alike. Some wound their suffering long ago, some wish denied, some blow to pride, some kindling spark of love put out by scorn – or worse, indifference – cleaves to them, or they do it, and so they live each day on a shroud of yesterdays. The happy man does not look back. He doesn’t look ahead. He lives in the present.

But there’s the rub. The present can never deliver one thing: meaning.”

2 thoughts on “The Interpretation of Murder, by Jed Rubenfeld”

  1. That last statement seems to imply that:
    a. Yesterday or tomorrow can deliver meaning
    b. You can’t be happy and have meaning.

    I once heard somebody say: It doesn’t mean anything, and it doesn’t mean anything that it doesn’t mean anything.

    True, for what it is worth; i see a table. What does it mean? It doesn’t mean anything, it is just a table.

    However, to me, meaning differs from vision, inspiration, passion.
    I think the present has a plethora of those for you. 🙂

  2. I think both are possible: live in the present and be happy, but also see meaning in things, for what it’s worth. For me being happy is both, even though I still feel that vision, inspiration and passion all have a meaning in life. And they are all present in the whole extent of our lives. Because living without meaning doesn’t take you anywhere, but living without passion just makes life miserable and sufferable.

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