Simple Passion

As I read the excerpts from Annie Ernaux's Simple Passion, I was underlining like a madwoman. It felt like she was speaking directly to my personal experiences in an eloquent and realized way. I liked the way that Ernaux characterized her relationship with her desires- a masochistic/sadistic relationship of sorts, where the feeling you love and feel so attached to is also slowly killing everything else you once felt passion for.

Some stand out quotes, among many:

pg 4, "I behaved in an artificial manner. The only actions involving willpower, desire, and what I take to be human intelligence, were all related to this man."

- This seems to happen all the time when someone gets into a relationship with a new lover; all of a sudden, one passion succumbs all the others and every emotion gets redirected to this passion. Simple everyday conversations become directed to the object of desire and anything that doesn't relate, gets the cold shoulder of indifference.

Ernaux also discusses a yearning to establish credibility to her feelings through other people's experiences. If she heard about a relationship between a man and woman, she automatically made connections- as she said, "I felt they could teach me something about A and that they lent credibility to the things I wished to believe." It seems that we are constantly yearning to learn the inner workings of the "other", especially if the other is of the opposite sex. I know that the popular media tends to promote this; magazines like Glamour "unlocking" the secrets of the mysterious male- why doesn't he call? Why are his texts so cryptic? They use the promise of these answers as bait to reel in curious female minds, although no one can really provide them.

pg 27, "Sometimes I told myself that he might spend a whole day without even thinking about me. I imagined him getting up, drinking his coffee, talking and laughing, as if I didn't exist. Compared to my own obsession, such indifference filled me with wonder. How could this be?"

- This quote speaks to the desire to "know" someone; to understand their experience of the relationship and their perception of you. When you are so embedded in your own reality, you find it difficult to see how the other person could feel different, and how dare they! How dare they treat you with such indifference when you've devoted so much of yourself to the relationship! Again, it all comes down to your desires, your needs. It's not at all about the other person's reality- we only want to understand the other because it brings us closer to understanding how to get what we want. 

pg 20, "I could experience only absence or presence."

- The strictly linear relationship we have with the other is daunting to think about, because the other can never be known. Our experience can only be one or the other- the other is physically there, the other is not there. Whether that person is there in every sense of the word, is unknown. As much as we'd like to uncover the perpetual mystery of the other, we can only get so close. The more you want it, and believe this absolute closeness is possible, the farther away it becomes. Each person has their own agenda, and if you are not a part of it, there's really nothing you can do, and it's even harder to understand why.

pg 33, second reading, "I experienced pleasure like a future pain."

- This is the quote that led to my comparison of the relationship to desire as a masochistic/sadistic one, because the pain of pleasure, and the pleasure of pain seem to be the same. When we indulge our desires, we know we're going to feel the pain of that moment ending immediately after we savor the pleasure of it, but we are okay with it. The pain of desire feeds into the pleasure of love, and we couldn't have pleasure without that pain.

pg 39, second reading, "My whole body ached. I would have liked to tear out the pain but it was everywhere. I longed for a burglar to come into my bedroom and kill me."

- The extreme pain of the realization of the loss of a lover is always likened to a life or death situation; a pain so severe we'd prefer absolute indifference in the form of death. In the moment, it feels like life will never go long, and you'll always be consumed with the fact that you aren't going to get what you want. Life's firm and unforgiving refusal to indulge such a strong desire delivers a hard blow, and it takes a while to recover. Of course, if you're a character in a story, most likely you are going to die to illustrate the severity of such feelings. Thinking about my own experiences with this, I remember going over each and every detail of the person with a fine tooth comb- although it wasn't really the person I was analyzing, but my perception of them and their qualities that I really wanted. I mourned the loss of someone who I thought matched my exact desires and needs in a partner, although in retrospect I know I was idealizing the situation.

pg. 59, second reading, "I had decided to learn his language. I kept, without washing it, a glass from which he had drunk."

- I really liked the way Ernaux worded this sentence- although there was an obvious language barrier between these two, there was a much more important barrier in place- the unique language of an individual's actions, words, and semantics. People may typically use standard languages to express themselves, but they use these languages in a particular way. Individual expression is just that, individual, and the individual is the only one who really understands what is being expressed. The difference between intention and perception is vast, and often is an obstacle in relationships. Why is it that we are constantly fighting to understand each other, decode the other's semantics, figure out what is really meant? It seems to always be so hard, because we all approach language with a specific culture, specific motives, needs, etc. Ernaux's attempt to get closer to A's language by keeping his glass, thinking that perhaps the spread of DNA on the glass's surface will reveal a long kept secret, is interesting and she's certainly not alone.

My Love Song: One Marathon by Reverie Sound Revue

I chose "One Marathon" by Reverie Sound Revue; a song by a very indie Canadian band. These are the lyrics:

I see you, carry the course
Some girl up and left again
And the sun seems to follow through
Oh, On a promise to follow you
Maybe the climb will in time
Remind you as you're always
Seeking me on harmony of rhyme
In time, as I wait, as time unwinds

As I dive over the finish line
As I dive over the finish line

I see you, call his name, Bliss,
I can't explain the whys of your wishing
Then you call me places
And you leave me aging
While I send my senses
I play by patience

But I know you know I
I must swear you hear my say
"No, our misses are not a plan"
So I miss you
And I run through
Through you

As I dive over the finish line
As I dive over the finish line
As I dive over the finish line

This song incorporates some natural imagery- the sun, "the climb"- to describe a person's love for someone who is not in their physical environment. This person is willing to wait for this love, withstand any test it might face, which is something I can relate to. The title, One Marathon, refers to the idea of a race against time, and that eventually love can "dive over the finish line," become a reality. Time is a temporary separation, and if you believe in your feelings, you just need to have patience. The line "I can't explain the whys of your wishing" especially resonates with me, because so much of what we feel is inexplicable. Sometimes you cannot explain what happens in your life, why you love someone despite any logical deterrences, or why you hold onto hope for a future with someone who is not physically available. The feeling of love itself is hard to explain or justify. 

I think that love and desire for someone can continue on indefinitely, despite the circumstances of the relationship. You will miss that person, and maintain hope that you will be reunited someday- and it is not foolish to have that hope. Life is unpredictable, and it is not impossible for two lives to come back together after some time apart. Sometimes, that time was necessary, and the relationship is better for it. I think it is important to know how to miss someone- you better understand your feelings and appreciate that person in a way you hadn't before. How do you know if you really love someone if that person is around all the time, and the relationship never had to undergo any tests? 

This song is inherently hopeful, just as I am about love. I believe everyone has a chance to experience a good relationship, one built on a real connection that has undergone some kind of test and has pushed through the hard times. Love is not instant; it takes time. Sometimes, it takes some distance too. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tfqVHYhIp9M

The Bad Girl: Part Two

"I spent forty-eight hours in a somnambulistic state, alternating between spasms of lucidity and a mental fog that lifted occasionally so I could give myself over to a masochistic session of insults: imbecile, cretin, you deserve everything that happens to you, has happened to you, will happen to you."

- page 156

This sentence stuck out to me as I began to read the remainder of this novel. Desiring someone who does not give any kind of feedback to this desire puts a person in an odd mental space; is there hope? Is there no chance that this person will feel the same as I do?

Sometimes it feels like you have the answer, and then something happens to ruin the picture crafted so carefully in your mind. There's really no way to explain it; is it fate? Is there a reason why the smoldering desire within you persists through unlikely circumstances?

The way Ricardo and "The bad girl" seem to reunite at pivotal moments in their lives certainly suggests that fate is involved in their chance meetings. Ricardo's sexual obsession seems to be the most important  part of his simple life, and the only part of him still tied to his Peruvian roots. His obsession is also the only connection the bad girl has to her roots; their relationship is like "home" to each other, a place to know and belong to, especially when the bad girl gets sick.

This novel had a strange effect on me; even at the end, I knew so little about Ricardo and the bad girl outside of their love for one another (if it could be called love) and desired to know more about them as characters. Although we learn a little bit about the bad girl's traumatic past, I still wanted to understand her. Obviously, the intention of the author was not to develop fully human characters as much as representations of the effects of love- when the desired is always changing, but the desirer is always wanting, no matter what changes occur.

The last paragraph of the novel was particularly interesting, when the bad girl tells Ricardo that "at least you have something to write about." I find this humorous- because most great works of art are inspired by love, or a study in an experience of love, but also because Vargas Llosa was so inspired by Flaubert, inspired enough to write a novel. Sometimes the best works of art come from a bad experience- I know that I always want to turn something particularly difficult that has happened in my life into something creative and meaningful. I am much more connected to what I create and I'm also healing through the process of creation- something that might have happened to Vargas Llosa. He is clearly making comments about the physical home, ties to one's heritage, and the emotional home, and how the answers are not always set in stone.

Life is always subject to change, and nothing about love is ever entirely clear or logical. There may be no logical reason for Ricardo to hold onto his feelings for the bad girl, but nothing was going to stop him, and nothing could possibly explain why.

I Am Love

Pleasure.

This film, put simply, is about the human desire for pleasure, any kind of pleasure. Pleasure that is felt deeply and savored like a fine piece of shrimp.

The cinematography of this film is a pleasure for the audience to watch, with the beautiful locale and elegant shots. It also reflects this need for desire, such as when Emma is first tasting the shrimp Antonio cooked.

The love affair between Emma and Antonio, and the imagery associated with it (such as when they first have sex with one another) symbolizes the desire within human nature to experience pleasure by having sex, and feeling with all the senses. Just like Emma Bovary, Emma wants to experience pleasure, the realization of her desires.

Emma's desires also extend outside of her position in society- she is a married woman, and Antonio is not exactly a member of her class. Her affair with Antonio is rebellious, and it makes a statement, similar to the one Emma Bovary's character made. Emma wanted what she wanted and she had the power to get it, and the audacity to go against society's rules.

It is interesting to see these characters so fully going after what they want and simply enjoying themselves in the pleasures of life.

The Bad Girl, Part One: Thoughts

Whilst reading the beginning of this novel, I got the sense that Vargas Llosa was deeply inspired by Madame Bovary, and the controversy of a female character who is allowed to function as a man would within the realm of the novel. (I also noted that Flaubert gets a shout out on page 45!) I read Ricardo as a less boring Charles Bovary with traits of Emma's; a man who delights in simplicity like Charles (although Charles was more just simple, and did not "desire" simplicity) and desires a romantic, ideal love much like Emma. Ricardo also had an unstable childhood and looked to novels to escape, desiring an adventure to Paris. He desires Lily just as Emma desired any man she was with in the novel; she seemingly represents everything he wants in a woman.

"With her model's looks, her dark mischievous eyes, and her small mouth with full lips, Lily was the incarnation of coquettishness." - page 6.

The quote above makes Lily's function in the novel obvious, the language even says that she is "a flirt". Coquettishness is a french saying for flirt, which is meaningful considering Ricardo's fascination with Paris. Anyway, a flirt is the ultimate object of desire, as they never follow through on what their behavior suggests. Their presence is as fleeting as the promise of their touch or their words. This novel reminds me of That Obscure Object of Desire for this reason, and because Lily is not the same person throughout the novel. It does not matter so much who she is as what she represents; she is the object of desire. No matter where Ricardo is in life, he will always desire her, no matter who she is.

The shape-shifting of Lily's character throughout the novel is similar to Emma's interactions with the men in Madame Bovary. It didn't matter who those men were; Emma wanted what she wanted, and she was going to search until she found what she was looking for. Lily could be ten different people and Ricardo would still desire her just the same. An example of this is when Ricardo first came across Lily in Paris, now Mrs. Richardson. "In love with me without knowing me? Do you mean that for ten years you've been hoping that one day a girl like me would turn up in your life?" (pg. 23). Ricardo truly believes this is the same person he was "in love" with, and will not stop desiring her, although he never really knew "Lily."

Lily's infidelity reminded me of Emma, although their infidelity has different purposes. Emma had affairs because she was searching for an idealized love, much like Ricardo. She was obsessed with this image and determined to see it realized. Lily was adulterous because she is the object of desire, and an object of desire cannot be contained. She is a "bad girl", a girl with no ties to monogamy and no concept of loyalty. She desires being the "object of desire" just as much as Ricardo desires her. Her identity is malleable because it needs to be if she is going to be the elusive figure that is lusted after.

The language that Vargas Llosa uses is very telling of the novel's overall meaning; sentences such as "she breathed in the warmth of day and let herself be penetrated and adored by the light that filtered through the tops of the weeping willows," (pg. 53) compares the light of day to one of Lily's male admirers, something that desires and "adores" her presence. The novel is beautifully written and the language makes desiring Lily sound appealing to the reader. It was hard to choose quotes to use in this post because there are a million that say something profound and interesting.

Lily describes Ricardo very well when she says, "You're satisfied with what you have, aren't you? But it isn't anything, good boy. I'll never be satisfied with what I have. I'll always want more." (pg 57). Lily is like Emma in this way; she is constantly desiring to be desired, just as Ricardo desires her and her only. When Ricardo is with Lily, he is entirely satisfied, but desire cannot be entirely fulfilled, so he cannot have her.

Although Lily is primarily an object of desire, she has a lot in common with Emma. She is somehow always burdened by society, sticking true to what Emma had said in Madame Bovary about men being free and women being burdened. She is captive to her desires too, and her relentless appetite to break free imprisons her.

The first half of the book chronicles Ricardo's obsession and Lily's indifference, and how it might look for Ricardo to see his obsession a bit more realistically. Chapter Four, and what happens when Lily has sex with him for her "lord", brings reality into Ricardo's world, to a place where he questions his devotion and wonders why he has been so subservient to it for so long.

Solaris: Mirror of Self onto Other

Comments on Solaris:

“She's a mirror that reflects a part of your mind. You provide the formula.”

Gordon says this to Kelvin about halfway through this film, and I think it exemplifies the meaning of the film as a whole. The concept of seeing someone through the filter of your own desires is not an extraordinary concept restricted to science fiction; it is a reality of life. Kelvin may not have been seeing
the "real" Rheya, but even if he was, would it have mattered? He was still seeing what he wanted to see, just like many of the characters we have discussed throughout the semester.

Solaris served as a mirror for the characters, a mirror that reflected what they loved in life, what was important. Kelvin's desire to change the past and regret about his carelessness towards his wife became clear in his interactions with the "Rheya" that appeared in Solaris. However, he longed for a past that he could control, which was evident when he sent away the first Rheya. This version of the past, a past with a dependent Rheya, wasn't quite what he desired. It was interesting to watch him reject her first appearance and embrace her second appearance- in life, you don't get to control what "version" of someone you get. What you desire and what you actually get may be different realities, but there isn't much of a choice involved. In a way, Kelvin got to choose what kind of "wife" he wanted, a choice he didn't get in reality.

Another quote that brings to mind this disconnect between who a person actually is and who that person is perceived as through our desires is Rheya's suicide note:

“I'm not Rheya. I know you loved me, though. I know that. I felt that. And I love you. I wish we could just live inside that feeling forever. Maybe there's a place where we can. But I know it's not on Earth and it's not on this ship.”

Both Kelvin and Rheya had experienced an emotional emptiness of sorts at this point; Kelvin losing Rheya and having to deal with the emotional weight of his neglect, and Rheya the emptiness of the memories she had of Kelvin, because the memories had no experience attached to them. It is interesting that Rheya is saying she loves Kelvin, when she is nothing but a concept, a symbol. Kelvin himself represents a longing for the past, a desire for the love that he had but turned his back on. How can they really "love" each other? Is their love simply their fervent desire to have love itself, to have some comfort in a foreign world where nothing is certain?

Those questions bring to mind the song "What is Love", popularized on a Saturday Night Live sketch called "A Night at the Roxbury" by a very iconic turn of the head. What is love, anyway? Is it the realization of some of our deepest desires, a reflection of what we want for ourselves brought onto another human? Having desires and feeling love humanizes us, gives us purpose and reason. In this movie, it appears that love is a guiding, humanizing force that, when taken away, makes us turn our heads towards an empty existence.