Acedia and Its Discontents

Acedia and Its Discontents: Metaphysical Boredom in an Empire of Desire by RJ Snell, 127 pages

The diabolically active Judge Holden (from Cormac McCarthy's Blood Meridian) may seem like a strange figure to use as a representative of acedia, the "deadly sin" usually translated as "sloth", but that is exactly what RJ Snell does in the first pages of Acedia and Its Discontents.  His purpose is plain - acedia is not what we think it is.  Sloth is not laziness, but aimlessness, not a lack of energy, but a lack of purpose, a denial of purpose, and ultimately the hatred of any purpose, order, or discipline.

Snell's solution to this empire of depression lies in a renewed understanding of the nature of work.  Good work, as opposed to mere busy-ness, is more than the manipulation of resources in an attempt to satisfy one's desires - it engages with the world, respecting both creation and the exalted human role of co-creator, accepting responsibility instead of fleeing from it.  Good work, as Snell defines it, is essentially contemplative, directed towards transcendental values, focused on the good of creation rather than its usefulness.

Greed

Greed by Elfriede Jelinek, 330 pages

Kurt Janisch is a country policeman, a husband and father (and grandfather) who nonetheless exploits his position to carry on simultaneous affairs with a number of women.  The title may be Greed, but the sin the author is most concerned with is lust, a perverted lust which views the bodies of others as properties to be acquired, accessed and used, like the real estate he likewise covets.

Early on, Jelinek describes a man-made lake formed from an old gravel quarry which lacking any natural equilibrium has filled with slimy masses of vegetable matter - reading this novel feels like swimming in that lake.  Human desire grows and metastasizes without end or purpose, spreading beyond the bounds of reason or control.  Even the Earth itself seems possessed of malignant desire.

The protagonist is responsible for the probably-mostly-accidental death of an underage girl and must conceal the crime.  He fears not only the police department to which he belongs, but also a jealous lover who saw him with the girl.  This might seem like a strong plot, but it barely moves throughout the book, it being mostly an opportunity for the Nobel Prize-winning author to ruminate with tiresome eloquence on the atavistic drives that underlie the general tawdriness of life in modern Austria.