To begin reflections on Melancholia, or Dame Melancholy as she was known in earlier times, to think, to speak a word on this theme, we must first reflect upon where we are, the actual daily world that affects our words, the world that speaks through us and compels our words obsessively in a single-minded style from which there may be only one escape—the escape into melancholy itself.
For the style of our lives, and our thoughts, is manic. We are each subject to the tyranny of a hastened life, a life of merciless acceleration. The instruments that surround us have become the Penates¹ of our households—the microwave, computer, television remote, kitchen appliances, and the weapons of communication: cell phone, fax and e-mail. Even the medicine cabinet is dedicated to a concerted attack on slowness.
The motto on every message is ASAP—as soon as possible. Fast food, fast track, fast forward; abbreviated language: beeps and blips, the rapido and espresso. Our bathing suit for enjoying a leisurely dip in the sea is now a Speedo, and the shoes with which we touch the earth are driving shoes or running shoes. The redemptive vision of secular progress has become a demonic addiction to technical speed.
— Depression, or Melancholy Without The Gods, Melancholy & Depression, UE 11
¹ Penates (or Di Penates) were ancient Roman household deities originally worshipped as protectors of the larder, pantry, and food stores.