Dregs

I am reading 'Chronicle of a Death Foretold' by Marquez, in my English class. This novella tells the story of the death of a character, Santiago Nasar, as a revenge for the deflowering of a promised bride. It is never clear, although the answer is suggested, whether Santiago is guilty of his crime. But the collective guilt borne by the community which puts him to death in their need for a scapegoat, shows in their obsession with superstition and omens.

I find myself looking out for the signs of my own flaws and faults, these days. The omens which should have been clearer, showing how I was going to hurt someone close to me. Hindsight is always 20/20, but the fact remains that there are signs if I am willing to see them. The person I hurt most recently gave many signs that they would be hurt by my actions and I chose to ignore them. Isn't it true that, as Oscar Wilde says, 'each man kills the thing he loves'?

Although we know that some superstitions are just examples of bad knowledge (that the world is flat and we'll fall off it if we stray to far...), the idea of recognizing signs of fate or the future doesn't strike me as blind superstition. I think there's a thread in my own life, and a meaning to a lot of what happens. The infinite possibilities which fracture at every moment in time don't explain some of the patterns I've seen in my own life.

Perhaps getting good at reading the 'signs' of what will happen in the future is just a form of sincerity. When you know yourself and your flaws well enough, you can predict the mistakes you're likely to make. A fantastic singer I've been listening to recently puts it well:

Je me sens coupable parce que j'ai l'habitude
C'est la seule chose que je sais fare
Avec une certaine certitude.

Go figure.