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history repeats itself

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What does Marx mean exactly when he says that history repeats itself "First as tragedy, then as farce"?
http://forumupload.ru/uploads/0019/e7/78/888/741925.pngI'm writing a paper on how the West, after 9/11, began repeating Cold War history in many ways, such as giving the intelligence community free reign, investigating one's own citizens, and detaining "terrorists" without due process. I stumbled upon that Marx quote and it seems like it could be relevant, but I can't figure out exactly what Marx means by it.
Perhaps examples would be helpful. Sorry if this is the wrong forum for this question.

ron ( aka robb ) & harry ( aka satan )

[nick]Harry Potter[/nick][icon]http://forumupload.ru/uploads/0019/e7/78/888/788759.png[/icon][fandom]Wizarding world[/fandom][char]гарри поттер[/char][lz]The war lasted for a long time - a very long time. I don't remember the sky, birds, or flowers. They were there, of course, but I don't remember them.[/lz]

Отредактировано Satan (2020-12-16 01:33:56)

+4

2

LEVEL 2, MINISTRY OF MAGIC, WHITEHALL, LONDON, ENGLAND, GREAT BRITAIN

- Fuck, - his voice cracked. It was even more tired than himself. Harry spent hours checkin on lates documents, trying to figure out where he made a mistake that pissed off his superiors, but he missed the main one - the mistake was to stay far past 10pm to finish all the work. Cold coffee seemed to give him no help.

Nothing gave him the help he really needed.

He crossed Hermione in the hallway, running through people with eyes filled with panic. 'They postponed the meeting about the new law on  improving life for house-elves and their ilk' she said quickly taping on his shoulder. Always busy with her high goals - Hermione felt like Harry's antonym - he felt his life going slow, like frost growing on the window. Too slow.

The time is still the same - running so fast, curling, jumping, but Harry - no, no, no ; he moves slower, he thinks slower, he makes decisions slower, until the cheif says to take their wands and go outside, giving them the address and the goal. Harry doesn't know how to live this life - there were no instructions after Hogwarts, - but he knows how to fight it. And since aurors give him the best space for it - he stays in silence surrounded by his ghosts that are less polite than Hogwart's ones.

His anxiety became a friend - the one that is here when you feel bad. And makes you feel even worse. But still - it's here. And it starts to feel like home, to smell and taste like home - Harry uses his mental health as a shield to avoid other problems. When you have enough of them, there is no enough space for the rest. And he knows it's wrong - he learnt it from over-caring Ginny's looks that she shared with him, - but he doesn't know how to do otherwise.

Students at Defense Against the Dark Arts lectures still look at him as a hero who has just destroyed a universal evil ; inspired journalists are preparing their columns for May 2 to commemorate the Battle of Hogwarts - everyone strives to interview him. Harry agrees because he wants - wants people to remember the sacrifices they had to make to win. The newspapers chant defyrambs in honor of his victory, forgetting everything he desperately said. Once he was seeking for this glory - now he is spitting it in Ministry's toilets, afraid to look at himself in the mirror and face someone who he barely knows.

FIRST IT'S A TRAGEDY BECAUSE IT SHOULDN'T HAVE HAPPENED. THEN IT'S A FARCE BECAUSE WE DIDN'T LEARN FROM OUR MISTAKES THE FIRST TIME AROUND.

The War is left in the history books and in quick silent glances of people who have seen it - especially those, who have touched it. Their hands are harsh, but much more eager to help others, because they know what means to think of the last sunrise that they have seen. Those who thought like that - those who are like Harry, - are mostly to be lost in their life after this war ; after all, when you know that you are ready to die, life seems like something foreign. And when you get it, you don't know what exactly to do with it.

Harry seeks some sense in his actual living and finds himself catching too many useless things.
That's why the chief said to abandon these stupid rumours about The Elder Wand - a prick on the streets of London is demanding for a duel, shouting in every corner about his magic wand that is invincible. And that's why Harry is not abandoning them at all, finding himself writing reports with his left hand and planing how he can get to this duelist with his right one.

But then he stops. He stops, because his thirst for action collides with the wall of a painful past, sending flashes of memory to his brain, which he has already tried - hundreds of times - to break inside himself. He stops, because he knows -

- Hey, Ron, - he knocks, - I need your help with the case that we discussed lately.

The lifebuoy inside this endless chess game, where he doesn't know the right rules, is the fact that Harry is not alone. He never was - maybe until his first letter in Hogwarts. He is the part of the Gold Trio - not the Gold Trio is the part of him. And even if Hermione is busy trying to make the lives of the disadvantaged to be respected, Harry knows - there is someone else, who shares the same look. Ron might have other fears crawling inside of him, but fear is fear. Past is past.

Ron is Harry's reflection. But another one - one that Harry is not afraid to look into. [nick]Harry Potter[/nick][icon]http://forumupload.ru/uploads/0019/e7/78/888/788759.png[/icon][fandom]Wizarding world[/fandom][char]гарри поттер[/char][lz]The war lasted for a long time - a very long time. I don't remember the sky, birds, or flowers. They were there, of course, but I don't remember them.[/lz]

Отредактировано Satan (2020-12-16 01:40:28)

+3

3

It's almost Christmas.
It's mildly surprising - yet another year passed by without Ron actually noticing it. Not that he tried paying any attention, not that he bothered. He found way more entertaining picking on his scratches. The one on his palm from the previous night - he wasn't careful and the knife slipped out of his hands; the one on his chin from the last weekend in the Burrow when he hit his head on the doorjamb: "Ronald Weasley, are you going to watch your steps? Oh my goodness, you are being a child", that's what Hermione said.

He's just gotten so absent-minded recently. Losing threads, forgetting little things - and big things.
He only realises it's almost Christmas, when he looks out of the window. He sees the snow falling, children cheering - and he cannot remember anuthing from the past few months. They've passed like they've never been his to live. Nothing really feels his anymore, even his wand in the hand - his hand? That's odd. Since when does it feel so odd? Sometimes he looses himself, the feeling of being him.

Hermiome seems to handle everything much better than Ron does.
There's not much space in their cramped service flat, Ron can't fit in any doors, he can never find his socks and even Accio doesn't help anymore. Hermione. on the other hand, has everything under control, so it seems. Harry mentions it too, somewhere between shifts, after a sleepless night somewhere in the suburbs, tired and durty, they were drinking weak coffee in a muggle takeout. He says, "Don't you think, Hermione hadles it better than you and me rolled into one?". Ron doesn't remember, what he answered - he might as well left the comment unanswered at all. It was a strange time - it is a strange time - and somehow they don't care anymore about having proper conversations.

Though he doesn't think Hermione handles it at all. She would sometimes bite her pillow and weep aloud at night - so that Ron got into a habit of using Muffliato before going to bed. So that other Ministry workers sharing a block of flats with them don't hear her, so that she has some kind of privacy. Was that the most he could and should've done? No. It was the least, but it was something. She seemed grateful enough, though they never spoke about it. He didn't remember them speaking - speaking like normal people - for a long time already.

WALKED OUT OF MY HOME TEN YEARS, WALKED OUT IN MY HONKING NEIGHBORHOOD TONITE AT SEVEN WALKED OUT PAST GARBAGE CANS CHAINED TO CONCRETE ANCHORS WALKED UNDER BLACK PAINTED FIRE ESCAPES, GIANT CASTIRON PLATE COVERING A HOLE IN GROUND—

Everything feels like in a haze. Ronn sees, how it annoys Fred. He's been getting more and more bitter in his comments on Ron's clumsiness and obtuseness. It hurt - not more than it used to before, but still, it hurt. Though Ron never judged Fred for that. At the end of the day, Ron missed George too. And if Fred felt better by giving one or two mocking comments, Ron would do that for him.

He didn't felt much, after all.
Feeling turned splashes of light on the end of his wand.
Spells lightened up the empty field. It was quiet - deafeningly quiet.
Ron remembered slams of the spells - he felt it in his body rather than heard.
These were probably the only time Ron actually felt like himself again. The wand was a natural part of his hand, the magic was there in him - he was just there, doing the best he could. Not thinking too much, not worrying too much, nothing. Just him, finally feeling something.

"Don't you think it's kinda weird?" Ron asks when they get away from their desks. It's easier to speak on the go. "I mean. Would you go around crowing about, the hell I know, Godric Gryffindor's Sword if you happened to find one in the nearest ditch? If you can now find such valuable shit lying around everywhere we should end up with all this Auror stuff and not waste our time"

This doesn't feel right. And the wrongest part of it is that it feels just right. Going around the Ministry, whispering arguing about whether they should go off on another deadly adventure. It feels right to be on Harry's side. To say, "Bloody hell, Harry, that's nonsense, don't you think?"

It scared Ron, how right it felt.
[icon]http://forumupload.ru/uploads/0019/e7/78/888/648351.png[/icon][nick]Ronald Weasley[/nick][fandom]the wizarding world[/fandom][char]Рон Уизли[/char][lz]expected to perform the action, not to ponder the reality beyond the fact, the man standing upright in the dream.[/lz]

Отредактировано Robb Stark (2021-01-02 15:00:27)

+4

4

I AM WALLED UP INSIDE MYSELF, A CERTAINLY A VERY LONG WAY FROM ANYONE ELSE.

It's stuffy. Harry feels tied up in the cashmere sweater he got from Ginny as a present - without noticing it, she got some of her mother's habits. And definitely, with no offense, missis Weasley, a better taste. Is it his body that radiates the heat or the Ministry itself - he doesn't know. He feels uncomfortable and gladly accepts a talk during the walk. Moving helps to clear his mind, as if he is incapable to think standing or sitting in one place - that's why his studying talents were never discovered in school ; of course it's not because every year some sort of cursed luck tried to kill him or others - of course not.

"This is weird," confirms Harry with a sigh. "But this supports my theory that the duelist is young and.. stupid ? I don't think people of our age.. people, who saw what we saw - I mean the Battle, everything, - would act like this"

Harry wants to break out of this stuffiness, not to be flesh, not even to be a soul, but to be anything, just not this - just to be away from the terrible act of inaction.

He looks at Ron, trying to find any sign of their similarity. Ron is unlucky to face more people with war-touched faces - his family was never the same after all, - Harry, on the other side, has a chance to find only Ginny in their warm bed where they have a diplomatic pact of not discussing themes that may hurt their mechanisms of living through hard things. Knowing how easily Molly Weasly can hide in her infinity words, every time Harry wishes th family meeting to be ended as fast as possible, sometimes he even gives himself a permission to lie and say that he is too sick or tired to visit them all.

Ron has to face them. Has to see them living through.
The door is always welcoming and open, but no one would voluntarily jump into this despair. Family bounds make you do things without your own will, even if they hurt you.

"I though you deleted the word nonsense from your vocabulary, Ron," Harry cracks a faint smile, slightly remembering that once he had already said something like this. For him everything in the wizarding world is some sort of nonsense and will be forever - he still shudders when hears the Apparition, he still stays too long next to Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment looking at magical hourglasses. He still believes in magic, even if he uses it on a common basis.

And also he still knows that his intuition most of the time appears to be true. This duelist has the Elder Wand, even if Harry thought that he had already destroyed it. The question is how to prove this fact when intuition seems not to be enought for the proof ? Jump straight forward or sit and wait ? Harry knows that he could make Ron go with him, using terrible words, pressing terrible buttons, acting like he probably would act when they were children - play on a sense of responsibility for other people's lives, talk about lives destroyed by the Elder Wand. But this pain would be mutual.

"I feel it," Ron is probably the only one who can believe in Harry's feelings about this case, if he wants to. But nowdays Harry became older and more careful - he knows his responsibilities, because they are not as they used to be - he is not here to save the world anymore. The goal is less clear as it was. It is covered with aurors procedures, papers, rapports ; they are not children who can say that they don't know how the big world works.

This feeling alone was something real in the whole world.

I BELIEVE I AM CHOOSING SOMETHING NEW / NOT TO SUFFER USELESSLY     YET STILL TO FEEL (…)

[nick]Harry Potter[/nick][icon]http://forumupload.ru/uploads/0019/e7/78/888/788759.png[/icon][fandom]Wizarding world[/fandom][char]гарри поттер[/char][lz]The war lasted for a long time — a very long time. I don't remember the sky, birds, or flowers. They were there, of course, but I don't remember them.[/lz]

Отредактировано Satan (2020-12-22 13:27:53)

+3

5

COMES SARCASTIC NOVEMBER IN MUMMY GARB, HAULING, SAME OLD SAME OLD WHAT LAID BARE WHAT TOTALED.

That's how it has always been, that's how it still is. Harry winks, nods, smiles faintly—and Ron gets up and follows. When he was younger, it used to be a bit unusual—the bare fact that somebody looks back at him, asks him to join, asks for his opinion. It was nice to start from scratch back then. With somebody who doesn't know anything about the Weasleys, and about Ron in particular. Now, however, even if Ron wanted to start again from scratch, he wouldn't have had a chance to. Everything now was bare scratches, nothing more. And you had to deal with what you've already got.

It's easy to believe Harry's feelings and intuition—much easier rather than listen to your own, am I right? Ron shakes his head. They enter the elevator to go down to the ground floor and have to keep silent for a couple of minutes, exclude polite and dishonest greetings and howareyous shared in the tight cabin—Yes, of course, Margetta, we are very happy for the upcoming holidays, but you never know, right? What could happen? What do the prophecies say? Oh yes, Margetta, indeed I am just fooling. Yes, please send greetings to your husband from me and Hermione—Ron feels dizzy when they get off.

Sometimes it seems that Ron has forgotten how to feel anything or how to want and desire anything. So Harry's I feel it comes in handy and Ron blurts out hoarsely, "What if we just go and check it? What do you think?"

SEES THRU THE ESTIMATED COSTS, STENCH COLLISIONS, INANIMATE DREGS, REMEMBERS THE BRUISED FIGURES, THEIR NUMEROLOGY AS STARS. UP UP, DOWN DOWN IS HOW SHE COUNTS AS THE HUNTERS BEGIN TO HUNT.

What if we just run away?—That's more precisely what he means, but you need the courage to speak the truth, and Ron is a little coward. What if they just run away, letting the fears and troubles follow them—but they'll at least have a little bit of a head start. A little piece of freedom, the one they've stolen from the huge buffet that hadn't been served for them. Now they're just stumbling on the way and losing crumbs as they go. They leave a trail of breadcrumbs and they will be found.

But now they have a chance.
Ron catches Harry's hand as he steps into the whirlpool of Apparition.
The Burrow is empty at this time of the day. Ron glances at the clock just to see, that they have enough time to discuss anything there's to discuss and disappear again before the family comes back. The staircase squeaks under their hurried steps.

"So you've got a plan, huh?"

Ron swallows the deja vu as a bitter pill and falls onto his childhoods bed, too narrow and too short for him now.
[nick]Ronald Weasley[/nick][icon]http://forumupload.ru/uploads/0019/e7/78/888/648351.png[/icon][fandom]the wizarding world[/fandom][char]Рон Уизли[/char][lz]expected to perform the action, not to ponder the reality beyond the fact, the man standing upright in the dream.[/lz]

+3


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