The Notebook

Just watched The Notebook. What a beautiful, moving story it was. It made me think about how beauty of emotion is created. Visually, it worked well with actors being emotive, but I'd now like to read the novel upon which it's based, to see how it's done through words - even if watching first and reading second is doing things the wrong way around.

This quote from the film, sums up its premise. 

"I love you. I am who I am because of you. You are every reason,every hope, and every dream I've ever had, and no matter what happens to us in the future, every day we are together is the greatest day of my life. I will always be yours." 

What does it teach us about writing, or story-telling in general?

That a story needn't be over-complicated to be poignant and meaningful.  Keep it simple and let your characters live through their emotions.

Another passage:

"I am nothing special, of this I am sure. I am a common man with common thoughts and I’ve led a common life. There are no monuments dedicated to me and my name will soon be forgotten, but I've loved another with all my heart and soul, and to me, this has always been enough."    

Can be likened to a lasting tribute to the story premise, where the beginning and ending fuses, melding into one. The story becomes symmetrical, and finding that symmetry in writing is extremely satisfying and emotive if we've bought into the characters and the issues they've faced, the mountains they've climbed and the hurdles they've overcome.

 Nope. I'm not a movie critic. Just a casual observer.

Belief and Love: Literature

Because it's February and Valentine's Day is creeping upon us, I want to quote part of a poem I studied in Literature classes. It's a love poem written as a script, but it makes for interesting dissecting, as there are also many references to madness. The poem is called Fragments of an Angel, and is over three thousand words in length with many sub-headings (like acts).

The part I've chosen to post here is called The Questions of Faithful Truth, which asks about the depth of feeling love. It happens a little after there is some conscious meeting between the two parts,(whether they are two souls or two fragments of the same mind/soul). They ask questions about how they fit together. On one level it seems to be about love for another person but, perhaps more significantly, there are hints that it is about belief in oneself.

The Questions of faithful truth

Angel.
If I can't see you.
Does it mean I am blinded by your love?
Guardian: It only means my love for you is blinded by such sorrow.

Angel.
If I don't hear what you're saying.
Does it mean I am deaf?
Guardian: You are deafened only by the pounding of my heart.

Angel.
If I can't sense your presence
Does it mean I am surrounded by naught?
Guardian: Bounded by air that is our fire: floating alone in the bubble of life.

Angel.
If I can't feel your desire
Does it mean I am numb?
Guardian: Sensual pressures trigger much warmth. We are never undone, or outwith desire.

Angel.
If I can't touch you
Does it mean we are apart?
Guardian: With my soul and my heart.

Angel.
If we were parted, how would we breathe?

Guardian:
We would learn to respond
Just as mere water
Departs from the ground,
Released from its earthly grave,
Soft rain will spill again;
Beat upon beat.

The play on words is sometimes illusive. For example, 'If I can't touch you, does it mean we are apart?' is answered with 'soul' and 'heart', which cannot be touched in a literal sense, but can be in the figurative - see what I mean, deep.

What I love about this part of the poem is the last verse, the despondent tone that is given to the emotion of love, or the need to be together as one - a theme that is repeated throughout the entire piece. The allegory of raindrops to the beating of the heart turns words and meaning on its head by suggesting that 'beat upon beat,' is not only life, but death as in 'soft rain will spill again;' like tears, or like blood, a rather subtle allusion to the soul 'released from its earthly grave.'

Lastly, I love the sheer magnitude of the pain at being parted, whether forever or temporary.