Day 48: Wednesday
Running low on time this morning, and seeing as I’m already a bit behind, let’s use your formula for posts to skip ahead.
Random observation. Random observation. Random observation.
Random observation. Random observation. Link to something interesting. Random observation.
Great. Now on to the vague personal opinion!
So, being in the wild west, I find your “love as death” interesting.
All I can say is that the collective wisdom of Western poets throughout history tells us that love is a kind of death.
Really, the sentiment embodies everything our society ever wanted out of a story. Writing a good story is about having a vision and being willing to suffer for it. Pursuing life, even at the cost of death.
This is likely why, for so long, The Brother’s Bloom has been my favorite movie (I use favorite a touch loosely, as there is competition from others, e.g. Harvey. Continuing this aside, I have a rare self-portrait that Harvey painted of himself which I’ve taken a picture of and put at the bottom of this post). Also, I might advise our readers that if they get nothing from this post, they should give the movie a watch…the trailer likely won’t reel you in (thus, no link), but don’t be discouraged. It’s absolutely worth the watch.
The reason I like the movie so much is because there is just that — commitment to the story, pursuing life even at the cost of death. The perfect con, where in the end everyone gets just the thing he wants.
There are right versions of giving of oneself for the story. In C.S. Lewis’s The Great Divorce we meet a tragic, relatable character — the loving mother. In many ways, she has given up herself, pouring self into her son Michael. But she can’t give this up – it’s the wrong sort of “life as death” trade.
To your point, you didn’t answer my question.
I don’t offer you an answer here because I don’t have one. All I can say is that the collective wisdom of Western poets throughout history tells us that love is a kind of death.
But it’s helpful in thinking about our responsibility. Yes, it’s not clear if when or how to intervene. But we love, and in many ways that’s a giving of self for a story, a purpose. Hopefully we pick the right one.