Brendan Mackie, over at Raise high the roofbeam, Carpenters! continues to delight and amuse with little known and, shall we say, provocative tales from the life of LW. Here is a snippit of one:

“No I won’t! No I won’t! I will never!” Wittgenstein screamed at a fashionable New Year’s Eve party in Berlin, ushering in 1921. The next day found him on a train to Sweden, where he got himself a small room in a boardinghouse. For the next six months, Wittgenstein refused to speak a single word. He communicated in a series of grunts and gestures, spending his days hunched over a desk, writing furiously, tearing out his hair, ripping up pages and pages of manuscripts. Often at dinners, Wittgenstein would frustrate his fellow boarders by trying to participate in their lively conversations about Swedish politics and art – but without words. The great philosopher would get angery that nobody could understand him, often throwing plates against the wall and shaking intractable interlocutors. When summer came, he built a large bonfire in the countryside and burnt all of his past six months’ of work. He wrote a postcard to his sister soon after that said, simply “Life is for reading great works. And writing them. There is nothing else.”

Go here for the rest.

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