Ramón Eder’s New Ironies: The Inexhaustible Source of Aphorisms from a Contemporary Genius

Su último libro se titula precisamente
New Ironies
(Renacimiento) y, en él, continúa la senda de sus
Ironías
previas —publicado por el mismo sello que es su casa y que recoge distintos aforismos presentes en libros anteriores—. Para su autor, las “ironías” que conforman el presente libro “son un tipo de aforismos que dicen medias verdades o verdades y media, pero con gracia irónica”. En él, propone una visión cósmica de nuestro mundo, siempre observándose desde la perspectiva humana, como no podría ser de otro modo.
En palabras de Ricardo Álamo, prologuista del libro, los aforismos de Eder captan “ideas portentosas, que vagan por los espacios siderales de la mente humana y que, al encarnar en la palabra, adquieren vida eterna”
. Así, tratan de distintos temas relevantes para el individuo, que los hacen atemporales y universales —algunos, específicamente dedicados al oficio de escribir y a los aforismos, como no podría ser de otra manera—. Entre ellos, encontramos pensamientos en torno a la vida y la muerte, las amistades, el amor, las contradicciones, la ética o la cultura —incluyendo la literatura y el propio género aforístico—.

Los aforismos presentes en este libro se encuentran contenidos en siete bloques, siendo cada uno de ellos un libro del autor. Por tanto, nos encontramos ante una antología que se organiza de forma cronológica: Solitary Palms (2018), The Ironical Oracle (2019), Cafés with High Ceilings (2020), Aphorisms and Serendipities (2021), Autumn Gifts (2023), The Stars Are the Aphorisms of the Sky (2024) —reseñado por quien esto escribe también en Zenda— y The Book of Transparent Phrases (2025). Hay que añadir además que cada uno de estos bloques se encuentra acompañado de una ilustración del propio autor, quien además de un excelente aforista es un artista sorprendente y personalísimo. Cada imagen supone el retrato de un escritor admirado, desfilando ante nosotros nombres como los de Edgar Allan Poe, Luis de Góngora, Baltasar Gracián, Franz Kafka, Friedrich Nietzsche, William Shakespeare u Oscar Wilde. A buena parte de ellos también se les mencionará dentro de algunos aforismos. Al final del volumen nos despide un característico personaje ideado por Eder y que nos recuerda a los realizados por el mentado Kafka —quien también destacaba por su inquietud dibujística—. Espigaremos entre los distintos diamantes para elaborar el mejor collar para los lectores de esta reseña.

We begin with existence itself, without which the aphorism would be material and literally impossible: “Between two eternities we live a few years and we call it life.” That mystery makes “the meaning of life” consist of “seeking the meaning of life.” In it, “to learn certain things, it is absolutely essential to make unforgettable mistakes first.” Therefore, “defeats” should be celebrated in some way, for “a society that only values success is a society doomed to failure.” To stay on the path, one must always fight and never settle: “One only knows one’s limits if one has tried to surpass them.”

In striving we “sometimes sink, and that is good, at the highest level.” In this line, “without some kind of hope you can’t even cross the street.” And indeed, “smiling when things go well has no merit, but to smile when things go badly one must be a sage.” Although “one cannot be happy all the time,” it is possible to be very happy many times, for there is no greater crime than dying without having lived. Mood is also connected to luck: this latter can be defined as “the bad luck that temporarily recedes.” Paradoxically, it is wise to try that good news doesn’t spoil the day. Reflecting this idea, “what we like a lot ends up complicating life.” As a guiding beacon, “the happy days of childhood accompany us throughout life,” helping to sustain that joy for life. Those who observe happiness in others should not be fooled by appearances, for “happy people can seem a little simple”. There is nothing like getting to know oneself more deeply, without denying what one sees: “If you break the mirror you only create many mirrors.” Therefore, “every good self-portrait is a self-critique.” Those who fall ill often use good memories as medicine. When we finally stop striving and leave this life, the dead meet this paradox: “No matter how luxurious a tomb is, no one envies the person inside.” In the end, “one must accept our small fate with resignation, considering that we are as necessary as a screw on a vast aircraft carrier.”

From human nature to avoid, there are clear examples. For instance, the one who keeps company with those who symbolize it: “If you go out with fools, you are the dumbest one.” The same holds for someone who has “indiscreet friends.” If you also “have a rogue among your friends, you are not far from being one yourself.” Sometimes intelligence can be harmful when used for unethical ends: “Many rich people choose to live in Switzerland because they prefer injustice to disorder.” Arrogance always ends up revealing itself: “Some, to boast, boast even about their failures.” That urge to stand out can lead to excessive leadership: “There are those who don’t like sitting at a round table because they can’t preside over the table.” Likewise, we should beware of those who define themselves positively: “One must distrust the one who proclaims to be truthful, for that is the preferred disguise of liars.” At times it is hard to distinguish, for “there are people who wear a mask identical to their face to be and not be what they seem.” Consequently, “the only thing we know for certain about certain people is that we don’t want them to betray us a second time.” To avoid being betrayed so easily it is wise to “inhale a little fear.” Having “many enemies is a kind of success” — although, honestly, we should admit that we owe them a lot.

A gift can also become a handicap: “The highly intelligent almost never have practical intelligence and tend to fail where the clever succeed.” Being who we are also has advantages: “No one can take away what we have given.” Being overly obliging to what others expect of us can become a problem: “Being good citizens who obey the law makes us respectable neurotics.” Ultimately, our essence is our soul, which, if it could be sold, “all fools would sell it.” To those who act with malice the following contradiction binds: “All sons are wonderful to their parents, but the world is full of wicked.”

No need to be discouraged if relationships with other beings do not quite gel, for it is always better to “fight misanthropy by surrounding oneself with delightful people.” It could be said that “solitary people when they go to a cafe hold a Tete-a-Tete with their ghosts.” One of the ways of relating to the other is undoubtedly love: “friendship is a kind of love without sex”. In its most physical form, Eder says: “From time to time someone reminds us that a kiss is a kind of bite.” Therefore, “if you strip love of its sentimentality, all that remains is the boisterous sex of a tribe of primates.” There is also the preliminary process of falling in love, which “turns us into detectives who want to know everything about the other person.” When love is “legitimized” through marriage, it “grows stronger by having common enemies.” There exist “summer loves that seem like a dress rehearsal for a great love,” just as there are ones that last only a short time but for the victim last a lifetime. Yet, it is also wonderful to fall in love without being reciprocated. Platonic loves are sometimes reciprocated in a Platonic way. Love has an expiration date even after its formal commitment: “Many marriages fall apart for lack of tact.”

Regarding the craft of writing, the danger of being so sociable that there is no time left for one’s own work is raised: “Meeting many writers is good for a writer, but it can be bad for his literature.” It can also be harmful to write about the work of people you care about, lest objectivity be lost: “When you write a foreword for a friend’s book, try not to sink too low.” There is also room for the grey authors who do not awake interest, not to mention admiration or envy: “Many writers are unfortunate in that no one plagiarizes them.” And yet “some naive and copycat writers copy even the faults of the original model.” One of the causes of the current abundance of creative mediocrity lies in the way our era has been framed, for it produces “those who are not Renaissance-men who did everything well, but postmodernists who do everything but do it badly.” Thus, “it’s fine that writers live in a house with a chimney so they can see how well their failed texts burn.” Yet when what is written is excellent and someone takes advantage, one can say that “plagiarism is a dirty homage that the mediocre pay to the talented.” There are also authors whose lives weigh as heavily or even more than their written work: “The legend a writer leaves of themselves is part of their work because it conditions the reading of their work.” In general, “writers are strange people because a splendid summer afternoon can pass without them leaving the house to write about how wonderful a summer afternoon can be.” Better is the enemy of good: “To correct is to improve a text, risking spoiling it.” Undoubtedly, one must face the danger: “The writer who does not take risks falls.” It’s comforting to think that even an “excellent book is a plagiarism of other excellent texts that the author has read, mixed, and forgotten.” Another modern ailment for those who write is that “not only must they write, but they must also be the chatterbox who hawks their books at the vanity fair.” Even good literature is mishandled in bookstores with “a small dedicated space” for it, “as if it were punished for not being bad.” The personality of the writer also determines what is discarded: “Rejecting the use of certain words shapes the style of every writer.” In our country, specifically, “there aren’t many writers, there’s a lot of people who publish.” All told, writers as “artists are very selfish because they only think about their work, but at the same time they are very generous because they will give their work to humanity.”

As the ideal type of writer stands the aphorist, who “is a blend of a systemless philosopher and a flawless poet.” There are aphorisms that address the very aphorism itself — aphorisms that bite their own tail — for he who conceives them cannot stop thinking about the nature of it: “The good aphorism is the one that says more than it seems, not the one that seems to say more than it says.” Sometimes, the complexity of what is analyzed can condense into small pills to make its content more comprehensible: “There is abundance, and not lacking, of pocket metaphysics in aphorism.” Conversely, the most accurate reflection risks becoming fodder for frivolity: “The best aphorism can end up in the sugar packet you are given with coffee at a roadside bar.” Translating a thought into few words risks becoming an entelechy, but this is contemplated as part of this literary genre, posing a real challenge: “The one who wants to define the aphorism always fails, and that is the essence of the aphorism.” Emulating Gabriel Celaya with his famous poem, the aphorism is definable as “a weapon loaded with intelligence.” Therefore, “not all good phrases are aphorisms,” for “an aphorism must have something autonomous and unsettling.” The aphorism compels testing and error, and thus the constant practice of it: “A book of aphorisms is a kind of diary, not of what one does but of what one thinks.” Moreover, intelligence feeds on vision, for “only one who has gazed a lot truly knows how to look.” That is why, too, the reader can be, in their own way, a writer: “An aphorism is only half an aphorism until the reader adds the other half.” Thus, “the best aphorisms are the ones that begin where they end.” A book of aphorisms helps to understand the world, because it “turns the chaos of life into a cosmos.” With such transcendence and visionary capacity, “an aphorism must say what cannot be said.”

On the other side of writers —and sometimes within them— are critics, to whom Eder also has aphorisms. One says: “Kind critics cannot be trusted.” Another asserts: “Literary critics, from time to time, have to strike a blow at some sacred cow of literature to maintain their reputation.” There are also those who, without writing, read or claim to read. To them go various thoughts: “Some have the complete works of Plato in their library, unopened, like a Greek sculpture.” For their part, libraries improve “if we give away books we are not going to read.” Those who possess “great libraries” become “overwhelmed library clerks.” Intelligent reading does not always abound; on the contrary: “It is not good that a country has more writers than good readers.” Attentive and deliberate reading always demands revision: “He who does not retreat while reading does not advance.” Only those who read see “the world in three dimensions: with what they see with their eyes, with what they see in dreams, and with what they have read.”

The way the intellectual or the merely intelligent individual confronts the modern world can leave them feeling lost: “The complexity of modern life makes it that only fools have things clear.” Because of this, “being anachronistic in a stupid world can be a form of rebellion.” With all that may unsettled by the modern world, one must acknowledge that past ages also began with questions their societies could not bear: “Traditions usually begin as transgressions.”

Linked with culture, there is also room for politics and religion. On one side: “Cultural departments of all governments subsidize artists to domesticate them”; “No politician looked at closely is normal”; “Today’s elites are made up of clever people who have not read Shakespeare, Virgil, Plato, or Gracián, and this is how things go for us”; “Do not let the perpetual morosity of politics turn us into soured people”; “Capitalism creates the best possible hells”; “If the left can become reactionary and the right progressive, then what we need is a linguistic revolution.” On the other: “Life is a series of deceptions so perfect that they must have been devised by a superior being”; “The list of devout believers would be long but would not prove the existence of God; what it would prove is that belief is not a matter for the dull.” “Not believing in God is a way of believing, because the one who does not believe believes that he has emerged from nothing, which would be a kind of God.” “There being a God or not being one is equally incredible.” In short: “The decline of Europe is magnificent.”

Say Eder that “there are many ways to read a book of aphorisms,” with the most enriching being the one that leads us to “find one that we like or that especially captivates us.” We will mark it with a pencil, close the book, and reflect on that aphorism. “It is to read in order to think and to rethink, to turn over possible double meanings of words, and to perceive nuances that escape notice on a first reading. It is reading as an amateur philologist, which is the best way to read.” May we have achieved that with this review, where the aphorisms I have “underlined” as resonating with me and potentially of interest to others are highlighted.