As a break from NaPoWriMo, I am now about half way through Written on the Body. It is delicious, although it is slightly unhinging me (if I were not already too far gone to start with).
It is barely a novel at all. Rather the plot and characters serve as hooks, or a framework, on which hangs a meditation. It is much, much closer to poetry than prose, and reminds me of why I so much liked The Passion (which I read forever ago).
The problem is that reading it simultaneously reminds me of what I want, and the fact that I am resigned to the fact it will never find me again. In that, it is a bit like watching a car crash. Of course, had things taken a somewhat different course, I would not even be aware of any such conflict. As Jeanette says, why is the measure of love loss?
As I reflect on the changes of the last twelve months, and the tumultuous backdrop against which they have played, I cannot help but wonder that if it is true that those who can’t do, teach, then maybe it is equally true that those who cannot love, write.
Oh God – I never thought of that. 😦
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It’s only a thought. I could be wrong (I often am). I certainly hope so.
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you are resigned to the fact? DON’T DO THAT, DON’T QUITE, DON’T GIVE ON ANYTHING. Ever.
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There is a lot to be said for never stopping holding out for what you want. There is also something to be said for calm acceptance of the way things are. The middle course is tricky to navigate. Maybe its natural to oscillate.
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yeah, i just get scared that the day i stop wanting something is the day it’s all over. scary thought.
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Yes, it scares the fuck out of me too. It is why the prospect of accepting less is such a terrifying nettle to grasp. I have been wrestling with this for a long time now, without any real resolution. Maybe I will simply keep wrestling with it. Maybe that is only human.
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maybe we should become buddhist. just be. ohmmmmmmm.
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Hehe. I have skirted with that one already. It has an appeal. What bothers me is that it is not quite human, a denial of the messy business of being human. On balance I prefer poetry to buddhism.
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Maybe I’m just having a bad day 🙂
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😦
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