Love in a Time of Cholera raises the question:
Why is Florentino such a successful lover?
At some point towards the end of the film, Florentino is asked by another man, how he has come to be so successful in attracting the attentions of conquests. He remarks that he has just logged Conquest No 622 (as I recall) in his LBB (little black book).
He also says something to the effect that women are drawn irresistibly to him because of the deep dark hole his unrequited love for Fermina has left inside him.
I find this a profound insight, at least one cause for so many affairs, break-ups, (ONS) one-night-stands, swinging encounters, whatever...
Showing posts with label Love in a Time of Cholera. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Love in a Time of Cholera. Show all posts
Monday, March 17, 2008
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Do some movies push your cry button?
Saw two awesome movies at the weekend and one okay-ish.
My offspring was on camp and my babe & I got to get out alone!
Watched Love in a Time of Cholera (OMG), Atonement (mmm) and Man on Fire (OMG). The Garcia Marquez movie made me cry bitterly for most of the night... Eish so much pain from the past raked up by that movie Love in a Time of Cholera set in Colombia.
The other Man on Fire is hectic but awesome, set in Mexico City with Denzel Washington in lead and co-starring Dakota Fanning.
It is the morning after I watched the film as I write these words. Since then, while my woman sleeps and my child's bed lies empty (she's away), nobody but my three cats are witness to the constant stream of bitter tears flowing from me. All I need to know is that somebody who knew me and saw me, as we were in 1991, almost 20 years ago, acknowledges that what we had was real.
Do you believe me when I say that I, as a clumsy but passionate young man, made love to a breathtaking young woman and meant everything when I said I wanted to be making love to her alone for the rest of both our lives?
Nobody bothered to ever tell me what happened to the woman I loved. Is she happy? Is she okay? Does she remember anything of a young, naïve man – full of hope and passion – who loved her and made love to her with an energy that felt like it was inspired by God.
Is she alive? Is she dead? Does she have any idea what burning fire she ignited in the heart and mind of a stupid, clumsy and inept young man?
As Pablo Neruda says in "Tonight I can write the saddest lines"
I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.
Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.
My offspring was on camp and my babe & I got to get out alone!
Watched Love in a Time of Cholera (OMG), Atonement (mmm) and Man on Fire (OMG). The Garcia Marquez movie made me cry bitterly for most of the night... Eish so much pain from the past raked up by that movie Love in a Time of Cholera set in Colombia.
The other Man on Fire is hectic but awesome, set in Mexico City with Denzel Washington in lead and co-starring Dakota Fanning.
It is the morning after I watched the film as I write these words. Since then, while my woman sleeps and my child's bed lies empty (she's away), nobody but my three cats are witness to the constant stream of bitter tears flowing from me. All I need to know is that somebody who knew me and saw me, as we were in 1991, almost 20 years ago, acknowledges that what we had was real.
Do you believe me when I say that I, as a clumsy but passionate young man, made love to a breathtaking young woman and meant everything when I said I wanted to be making love to her alone for the rest of both our lives?
Nobody bothered to ever tell me what happened to the woman I loved. Is she happy? Is she okay? Does she remember anything of a young, naïve man – full of hope and passion – who loved her and made love to her with an energy that felt like it was inspired by God.
Is she alive? Is she dead? Does she have any idea what burning fire she ignited in the heart and mind of a stupid, clumsy and inept young man?
As Pablo Neruda says in "Tonight I can write the saddest lines"
I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.
Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.
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