Yet it is the narrative that is the life of the dream while the events themselves are often interchangeable. The events of the waking world on the other hand are forced upon us and the narrative is the unguessed axis along which they must be strung.
This is the nature of war, whose stake is at once the game and the authority and the justification. Seen so, war is the truest form of divination. It is the testing of one's will and the will of another within that larger will which because it binds them is therefore forced to select. War is the ultimate game because war is at last a forcing of the unity of existence.War is god.
Interpretation
What this quote means
This quote reflects on the complex nature of war as both a contest of wills and a deeper existential struggle for authority and meaning.
Cormac McCarthy's quote on war delves into the intricate layers of human conflict, portraying war not merely as a physical confrontation but as a profound examination of the human spirit. It suggests that war encapsulates the essence of existence, where the struggles between opposing forces reflect our deepest desires for control and purpose. In viewing war as 'the ultimate game,' McCarthy emphasizes the intertwining of fate and free will, where resolution emerges from the chaos that war embodies, ultimately revealing the interconnected nature of all things in existence.
Themes
In practice
Example use cases
This quote could be used in a discussion panel about the philosophical implications of war.
More from Cormac Mccarthy
All quotes βSee the hand that nursed the serpent. The fine hasped pipes of her fingerbones. The skin bewenned and speckled. The veins are milkblue and bulby. A thin gold ring set with diamonds. That raised the once child's heart of her to agonies of passion before I was. Here is the anguish of mortality. Hopes wrecked, love sundered. See the mother sorrowing. How everything that I was warned of's come to pass.
What he could bear in the waking world he could not by night and he sat awake for fear the dream would return.
The judge placed his hands on the ground. He looked at his inquisitor. This is my claim, he said. And yet everywhere upon it are pockets of autonomous life. Autonomous. In order for it to be mine nothing must be permitted to occur upon it save by my dispensation.
Only now is the child finally divested of all that he has been. His origins are become remote as is his destiny and not again in all the world's turning will there be terrains so wild and barbarous to try whether the stuff of creation may be shaped to man's will or whether his own heart is not another kind of clay.
He knew only that his child was his warrant. He said: If he is not the word of God God never spoke.
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The writer may very well serve a movement of history as its mouthpiece, but he cannot of course create it.