ABSTRACT

The above aphorism taken from Elias Canetti's first essay collection, The Human Province, 1 at first appears to be witty teasing. Only on taking a closer look it reveals itself as a possible key formula to understanding the appeal of his texts, to his specific attention and his manic desire to distance himself from the interaction and coexistence of anything and everything. In the same volume he also outlines,

A place where people love only from afar, without ever seeing one another. A lover must never find out what his beloved really looks like. Indiscretions in this direction are severely punished, like rape in our country. There are tragedies in the lives of these people too: for instance, when someone learns that the woman he chose to love is someone he already knows from somewhere. He is then horrified at himself as an Oedipus here. It is sometimes not easy for lovers to avoid one another. But they know that everything is over with the first meeting. It is impossible for them to love somebody they know, they are good observers and they can see through anyone they have spoken to even once. How can they possibly develop any love for such a creature? 2