जी ए कुलकर्णी, लुक्रीशस च्या 'ऑन दी नेचर ऑफ
थिंग्ज' ह्या पुस्तका बद्दल म्हणतात:
"...स्वच्छ, जळजळीत दृष्टीने
Lucretius ने केलेला देव, देवता, भाबड्या कल्पना यांचा विध्वंस मला आवडला
होता...".
(पृष्ठ २४८, 'जी. एं.ची निवडक पत्रे', खंड २, १९८८)
ही पोस्ट वाचण्यापूर्वी ह्याच ब्लॉग वरची मार्च २६ २०१८ तारखेची पोस्ट वाचा.
लुक्रीशस बद्दल मराठीत चर्चा मी तरी पहिली नाही. विंदा करंदीकर त्यांच्या 'अष्टदर्शने', २००३ मध्ये त्याचा उल्लेख करत नाहीत.
पण तो किती महत्वाचा आहे हे मला हा पॉडकास्ट (conversation between John N. Gray and Richard Holloway in November 2020) ऐकून पुन्हा एकदा समजले.
लुक्रीशस (१५
ऑक्टोबर इ. स पू ९९- इ. स पू ५५) च्या 'ऑन दी नेचर ऑफ थिंग्ज' चा अनुवाद जी. एं.ना करायचा होता.
लुक्रीशसच्या 'ऑन दी नेचर ऑफ थिंग्ज' पुस्तकामुळे जग आधुनिक झाले असा दावा करणारे आणि पुलित्झर (२०१२) आणि अमेरिकेचा नॅशनल बुक अवॉर्ड (२०११) मिळवणारे पुस्तक पाहून जीएंना अत्यानंद झाला असता.
Stephen Greenblatt, 'The Swerve: How The World Became Modern", 2011:
"...The stuff of the universe, Lucretius proposed, is an
infinite number of atoms moving randomly through space, like dust motes in a
sunbeam, colliding, hooking together, forming complex structures, breaking
apart again, in a ceaseless process of creation and destruction. There is no
escape from this process. When you look up at the night sky and, feeling
unaccountably moved, marvel at the numberless stars, you are not seeing the
handiwork of the gods or a crystalline sphere detached from our transient
world. You are seeing the same material world of which you are a part and from
whose elements you are made. There is no master plan, no divine architect, no
intelligent design. All things, including the species to which you belong, have
evolved over vast stretches of time. The evolution is random, though in the
case of living organisms it involves a principle of natural selection. That is,
species that are suited to survive and to reproduce successfully endure, at
least for a time; those that are not so well suited die off quickly. But
nothing—from our own species to the planet on which we live to the sun that
lights our days—lasts forever. Only the atoms are immortal.
In a universe so constituted, Lucretius argued, there is no
reason to think that the earth or its inhabitants occupy a central place, no
reason to set humans apart from all other animals, no hope of bribing or
appeasing the gods, no place for religious fanaticism, no call for ascetic
self-denial, no justification for dreams of limitless power or perfect
security, no rationale for wars of conquest or self-aggrandizement, no
possibility of triumphing over nature, no escape from the constant making and
unmaking and remaking of forms. On the other side of anger at those who either
peddled false visions of security or incited irrational fears of death,
Lucretius offered a feeling of liberation and the power to stare down what had
once seemed so menacing. What human beings can and should do, he wrote, is to
conquer their fears, accept the fact that they themselves and all the things
they encounter are transitory, and embrace the beauty and the pleasure of the
world.
I marveled—I continue to marvel—that these perceptions were
fully articulated in a work written more than two thousand years ago. The line
between this work and modernity is not direct: nothing is ever so simple. There
were innumerable forgettings, disappearances, recoveries, dismissals,
distortions, challenges, transformations, and renewed forgettings. And yet the
vital connection is there. Hidden behind the worldview I recognize as my own is
an ancient poem, a poem once lost, apparently irrevocably, and then found..."
