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April 30, 2004
Fred Wilson in Harlem
Postmodern Art : Making the There, here. And decentralising the centralised.
My question for postmodernity is as always:
Does postmodernity aim to make the periphery central or is it just an excuse for the central not to acknowledge the periphery more by making it common?
Everything is a two-edged sword.
Posted by lainey at 02:56 PM | Comments (5)
The Lovely Bones
I'm going to start a book blog soon, interested persons to be part of a book-loving/sharing community please drop a note and I will add you in.
In the meantime, I shall talk about The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold which I had finished some weeks ago but never sat down to write about it. It bore more emotional than literary significance for me.
I think the premise of the book was interesting and the writing farely acceptable. Makes for a good light readable endeavour. Unfortunately, the story which started off strong ended really weak and I felt really dissatisfied after it. Oh well, mayb Hey Nostradamus! which works on rather similar premises (at least from where I'm at) might fare better.
However, the story worked for me too because I've always seen myself as the victim by being the survivor of death, the leftover product of death. I've shut some doors in my life in an attempt to move on, perhaps I shall look at things from the other realm of things. Frankly though, I do think the living's perspective of death is usually skewed towards a perspective that can derive comfort. We talk about death, we mourn, we grieve - all for ourselves.
Dying is for the living.
The dead...moves on.
Do they? Do they not? I would like to think they have moved on. It might be easier for the living to move on if they don't hang on like that.
I, for one, do not like hanging on.
Addendum: Ranty ranty me. Sorry for an incoherent post on a book :) I would say go read this book for a fast read, but don't expect to be blown away by good writing or a tight plot.
Posted by lainey at 02:50 PM | Comments (0)
Australian Literary Honours
Go! Goldsworthy!
:)
If all Australian men come in the form of my lit profs in Melb Uni, I will start going for aussie men. :p
Posted by lainey at 02:32 PM | Comments (0)
Violence in the region
No more cathartic South Thailand trip but I guess what's more pressing is the violence that's occuring.
Dying for their religion? Dying for their believes? Dying for their identity?
We live in a strange world since the Tower of Babel collapsed.
Posted by lainey at 11:05 AM | Comments (0)
April 29, 2004
Falling Apart
Singapore is.
Are we?
Another one? On a Thursday, not on a Tuesday though.
How can life be full of coincidences?
Is there any meaning in anything that's happening at all?
Posted by lainey at 02:12 PM | Comments (1)
April 28, 2004
I need to shop..
Sheesh, I 've not shopped for the entire month of April and it's coming to the end.
I can only resort to online WINDOW shopping..it is safe until I whip out my credit card. I must not be rash.
This is pretty eh?
This is not bad too...
Posted by lainey at 12:49 AM | Comments (1)
Perfection
I've always wanted a charm bracelet, but alot of them come across as bland and boring, or tacky.
I've found the perfect one, but it's too far away. :(
Posted by lainey at 12:35 AM | Comments (0)
Models are Humans too!
I was surfing the Banana Republic site and ooh-ing and ahh-ing at their summer collection.
Then I saw this,
Nice bikini bottom, eh?
But my point is...look at THAT CELLULITE on her thighs.
I feel better already.
heh.
Posted by lainey at 12:28 AM | Comments (2)
Poetry in motion
Art(poetry) is born of humiliation.
- W.H. Auden
My friends used to joke (they still do) that one of the first things they have to learn if they want to be my friend is that they cannot be easily embarrassed in public.
I embarrass my friends in public.
Apparantly, I hop, skip, giggle too much. I walk and gesture animatedly. I talk to strangers, frighten toddlers and squeal at animals. I jump, laugh, grin for no rhyme or reason. Sometimes, I dance in public. Sometimes, I talk about the worst issues that shouldn't be spoken about it public. Sometimes, I hug, kiss, touch - too suddenly.
I embarrass my friends in public. But I still have a huge bunch of them who love me despite my failings.
So, with what Auden said, I should be a marvellous poet and be making poets out of my friends.
Ha!
Posted by lainey at 12:11 AM | Comments (0)
April 27, 2004
A Sober Fitzgerald
F Scott Fitzgerald's name cleared.
Posted by lainey at 08:22 AM | Comments (0)
TXU ate up all my money..
First, Telstra...now TXU.
Singapore is buying over Australia!
Posted by lainey at 08:19 AM | Comments (0)
The Other Side of The Coin
I think Shwang started this a long time before.
Posted by lainey at 08:13 AM | Comments (0)
Poor Craig!
Atrocious! Or is it true friendship?
The world is unfair and only meant for the elites.
Posted by lainey at 08:11 AM | Comments (0)
April 26, 2004
So I wonder what am
So I wonder what am I cross at?
I'm cross at my own mediocrity and I intend to take it out on everyone else.
Posted by lainey at 10:28 PM | Comments (0)
Words of Wisdom
There is no soul mate! You're lucky if you find a mate, forget that soul shit!
-Chris Rock
Posted by lainey at 04:04 PM | Comments (0)
April 25, 2004
Just to arouse a little awareness..
Posted by lainey at 09:30 PM | Comments (0)
Go into prose! haha.
WASHINGTON (Reuters) -- Poets die young -- younger than novelists, playwrights and other writers, a U.S. researcher said Wednesday.
It could be because poets are tortured and prone to self-destruction, or it could be that poets become famous young, so their early deaths are noticed, said James Kaufman of the Learning Research Institute at California State University at San Bernardino.
For the report, published in the Journal of Death Studies, Kaufman studied 1,987 dead writers from various centuries from the United States, China, Turkey and Eastern Europe. He classified the writers as fiction writers, poets, playwrights, and nonfiction writers. He did not study the causes of death.
"Among American, Chinese and Turkish writers, poets died significantly younger than nonfiction writers," Kaufman wrote in the report. "Among the entire sample, poets died younger than both fiction writers and nonfiction writers."
Because Kaufman studied some writers who lived hundreds of years ago, it is impossible to compare their average age of death to that of the general population.
AVERAGE LITERARY LIFE SPANS
The study found this
Haiku holds the threat of death
Write prose live longer
Poets 62
Playwrights 63
Novelists 66
Nonfictionwriters 68
Source: Journal of Death Studies
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"On average, poets lived 62 years, playwrights 63 years, novelists 66 years and nonfiction writers lived 68 years," Kaufman said in an interview conducted by e-mail.
Kaufman has also studied poets and mental illness.
"What I found was pretty consistent with the death finding actually, female poets were much more likely to suffer from mental illness (e.g., be hospitalized, commit suicide, attempt suicide) than any other kind of writer and more likely than other eminent women," he said.
"I've dubbed this the 'Sylvia Plath Effect."'
Sylvia Plath was a poet and novelist who killed herself in 1963 at the age of 30.
There could also be a more benign explanation for poets' early demise, Kaufman said. "Poets produce twice as much of their lifetime output in their twenties as novelists do," he said.
So when a budding novelist dies young, few people may notice.
"A great novelist or nonfiction writer who dies at 28 may not have yet produced her or his magnum opus."
Kaufman said poets should not worry, but should perhaps look after their health.
"The fact that a Sylvia Plath ... may die young does not necessarily mean an Introduction to Poetry class should carry a warning that poems may be hazardous to one's health," he said.
Posted by lainey at 02:45 PM | Comments (0)
Resentment is a scary thought.
Resentment is a scary thought.
To feel resentment, or to be a subject of resentment, is a state I've never thought I would find myself in when I was young.
Posted by lainey at 12:33 PM | Comments (0)
Hmm.
I think...men in power, need airheads to feel constantly in power.
This leaves stupid men for powerful girls?
win liao.
im ranting. I will write better about this when I wake up.
Posted by lainey at 07:55 AM | Comments (0)
April 23, 2004
Battle of The Sexes
Guess who's losing?
I'm tired of battle of the sexes. Seriously, give it up on male/female power and just live your life the way you want to.
Posted by lainey at 02:15 PM | Comments (0)
April 22, 2004
Peace for Peace
I cried at the screening of Tibet: Cry of the Snow Lion yesterday.
I cried when they showed the state of the life for Tibetans in Tibet. How dirty, desolate the children are.
Children always hit a cord in me. Children always make me cry.
I believe, children should be happy. And are the only ones who deserve to be happy. Cuz they will only be fucked up as they grow up. Childhood is the only time one is allowed to be happy. And that right should never have to be taken away.
Posted by lainey at 02:40 PM | Comments (0)
The End of Rock and Roll
Posted by lainey at 12:00 PM | Comments (0)
Stuck in Music
I bought four cds yesterday.
Ben Folds Five, Fountains of Wayne, Chemical Brothers and the OST of something.
I should be sampling them and listening to them.
First, I need to tear myself from this song:
Nothing unusual, nothing strange
Close to nothing at all
The same old scenario, the same old rain
And there's no explosions here
Then something unusual, something strange
Comes from nothing at all
I saw a spaceship fly by your window
Did you see it disappear?
Posted by lainey at 09:17 AM | Comments (2)
April 19, 2004
I realised 90% of my
I realised 90% of my closest friends are guys.
And more than half of them are not in the country.
Posted by lainey at 11:48 PM | Comments (2)
April 17, 2004
Love exits surreptitiously through the
Love exits surreptitiously
through the back door.
I saw its shadow linger awhile,
but couldn't shout out in time.
Posted by lainey at 10:42 PM | Comments (0)
Sleep enters like a bumbling
Sleep enters like
a bumbling idiot.
Awkwardly fumbling...
Out of place, out of sync.
Squeezes in.
Tries hard to
fit in.
Posted by lainey at 10:40 PM | Comments (0)
April 14, 2004
Pitch Black
My family was caught in the black-out last night.
I managed to muster up some candles and in the dancing candle-light, chatted with the other half on the phone. Yesterday had been a rather trying day for me. Being stuck at home the entire day because of cramps and PMS, I was feeling really down and redundant and convinced that I will never be of use to the rest of the world. Talking to him in darkness made me realised I am in darkness.
My life is currently experiencing a black out. And I will try to light as many candles as I can to at least get by now. I'm just sitting quietly in the corner, waiting for power to be restored. But it will be restored, and it can be restored. I just need to be patient. In the meantime, I need to look for as many candles as possible.
Candlelight is really quite pretty. And darkness is, at times, rather sobering.
Life really ain't that bad. And despite moments of uncertainty, it is something I firmly believe. At the end of the day, I always know Nietszche to be true.
What doesn't kill you, can only make you stronger.
I am still alive. I can only be stronger. Never weaker. It's an upwards climb. Always. It has to be.
Posted by lainey at 10:55 AM | Comments (3)
April 13, 2004
New York State of Mind
Last night, I dreamt I was in New York. And Melissa's apartment was my apartment. I dreamt I hailed a cab and went home. Everything felt so real. So this morning, I woke up to surf NYU's web-page. And I saw this:
Weather: It is currently drizzly and 43° in New York City.
New York City must be pretty, so very pretty, right about now.
Posted by lainey at 09:28 AM | Comments (0)
April 12, 2004
And after this, I'll go to bed, I promise. :)
1: Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 18, find line 4. Write down what it says:
"in her heaven, she had none."
-The Lovely Bones, Alice Sebold
2: Stretch your left arm out as far as you can. What do you touch first?:
my bed
3: What is the last thing you watched on TV?:
Last night at Meridien Food Court, they were showing the NKF show
4: WITHOUT LOOKING, guess what the time is:
1am?
5: Now look at the clock, what is the actual time?:
12.38am
6: With the exception of the computer, what can you hear?:
Fan. Music.
7: When did you last step outside? what were you doing?:
Just now. Out for tuition. Out with Tiffy. Came home with Fiona.
8: Before you came to this website, what did you look at?:
Duh-Knees webpage, where I got this quiz.
9: what are you wearing?:
Erm. erm. U really want to know? Just my undies.
10: Did you dream last night?
Yeap. Can't remember what though.
11: When did you last laugh?
Just now...with Tiffy I think.
12: What is on the walls of the room you are in?:
Pollock's Autumn Rhythm poster, Met Renaissance Art poster. Alexander White postcards, pics of Shan, me sleeping and pic of my 21st birthda celebration. Photo frames of my baby pics. Book Shelves. A mirror. Ok. Very cluttered room I have.
13: Seen anything weird lately?:
Thinks. Not particularly.
14: What do you think of this quiz?:
Heh. Different from the rest.
15: What is the last film you saw?:
Can't remember. Think it's Fight Club last Sunday. Ooh. Dog Poo on DVD. :p
16: If you became a multi-millionaire overnight, what would you buy first?:
A Kate Spade bag. Really! Sorry... :p
17: Tell me something about you that I don't know:
I don't really talk to my stuff toys. But I talk about them like I talk to them. LOL.
18: If you could change one thing about the world, regardless of guilt or politics, what would you do?
Remove capitalism.
19: Do you like to dance?:
Yea. Was in the dance society yah?
20: George Bush: is he a power-crazy nutcase or some one who is finally doing something that has needed to be done for years?:
he's just an idiot.
21: Imagine your first child is a girl, what do you call her?:
Megan? must see husband's surname fit what too..
21: Imagine your first child is a boy, what do you call him?:
Some J name..and also must see if husband's surname fit or not!
22: Would you ever consider living abroad?:
consider is an understatement.
23: Will you pass on this survey?
Yah yah!
Posted by lainey at 11:35 PM | Comments (0)
Lesson Learnt
When younger, games are played
for thrills and excitement.
Waltzing with minds are dull,
tangoes preferred.
Hurt me if you dare.
See if I don't hurt you first!
See if I don't hurt you back!
Now older, no more the wiser,
Too scared to play games.
Too scared to lose.
Posted by lainey at 09:54 AM | Comments (0)
Future is a Fluke
That's why we never plan too far ahead.
"The future is always a wholeness, a sameness. We're all tall and happy there," she said. "This is why the future fails. It always fails. It can never be the cruel happy place we want to make it."
Cosmopolis, Don Delilio
Addendum: Vaya, my friend, Shwang, read your blog and went to get a copy of Cosmopolis. :) Then he quoted this to me. I'm telling you this just in case you get perturbed by my quoting from Cosmopolis too. ;)
Posted by lainey at 12:10 AM | Comments (0)
April 11, 2004
Self-Affirming Shite
I've had enough relationships which had battered alot of self-worth from me. But, at the end of the day, I'm always lucky enough to be re-affirmed by the grace/;ove of God and the people around me.
I've always loved the beauty of life, even when I tend to forget from time to time.
Is this simplicity? Is it better to be complex then?
I was cleaning up my computer and I found this document to which I wrote to re-affirm myself after making the first decision to come out of a really emotionally-draining/abusive relationship.
Here's an excerpt. I think it's good to read it from time to time, to make sure I don't lose sight of who I am or at least, who I think I am.
I realised I’ve repressed so many parts of myself to be his. To be his lainey. Because he needs to be the person he is trying to be so badly, he ignores my needs and my identity altogether.
I am Elaine.
No matter how confused I am about who I am. Nobody has the right, not even him, to remove that fact from my life.
That I am Elaine.
That I need to be free-wheeling.
Feel what I want to feel.
Think the thoughts that I do.
Talk about things without caring what the other thinks.
Do what I like and smile when I want.
Laugh, giggle, and cry. Whenever. However.
Say whatever and whenever.
Listen to the music I adore. I need
Succumb to my impulses.
Succumb to my cravings.
Eat everything I want.
Not eat at all when I don’t want to.
Feel fat, always.
Sing aloud, laugh hysterically, go berserk.
all in public.
Watch TV only when I want to.
Get too engrossed and not be jolted out of it.
Not laugh, when I’m not amused.
Not be sweet, when I’m feeling diabolical.
Not take medication, even when I’m supposed to.
Love the sea, love shopping, love beauty and take my own damn sweet time about it.
Wear whatever makes me comfortable.
Be a prude, be a slut. Depending.
Be sarcastic, cynical and frivolous.
Be serious, too serious, be anal-retentive and proud of it.
Be unreasonable.
Read too much.
Think too much.
Worry incessantly.
Talk about death.
Walk in the rain.
Want and love to spend.
Be materialistic.
Be pedantic.
Be a Europhile, be an Anglophile. Be a Francophile.
Talk to strangers, and trust them.
Want to die, want to live. Not care a fucking damn.
Swear, use vulgarities, and apply double standards.
Be weak, be strong, be needy, be aloof.
Be elitist, be snobbish, be empathetic; care.
Care too much for people I love
Not care a damn for the rest of the world.
Worry too much. Love deeply. Hate unforgivingly.
Delve into issues. Watch too many movies.
Read too many books.
Obsessively-compulsively re-watch my movies and read my books.
Flirt harmlessly.
Exploit my assets.
Be irrationally insecure.
Over-react.
Be selectively apathetic.
Smile, nod, keep mum, act cute, laugh and use whatever defense mechanism I require to get through life.
Love-hate my family so deeply.
Love-hate myself too deeply.
Love-hate.
Be perpetually confused.
Be perpetually scared of everything, yet pretending to be fearless.
Yes. That’s me.
That’s who Elaine is, and so much more.
And no one, not even him, has the right to deny me of all that.
Of being all that.
When I was with him, I couldn’t be myself. I had to be who he wanted me to be. It’s not him. It’s me. I couldn’t be myself when I was with him. I was needy, pathetic, scared to offend, eager to please. I was his little cocker spaniel. That’s not me. I become a strange sort of mutant. I become less than Elaine.
I deserved not getting his respect.
We are not meant to be, cuz there was no "I" in the relationship to begin with even.
Elaine 10.16AM 16/5/2003 Melbourne
Posted by lainey at 01:04 PM | Comments (0)
April 09, 2004
Death of Little Prince
Goodbye, funny writer.
Posted by lainey at 06:19 AM | Comments (1)
April 08, 2004
Times Square
It is like no other.
When I first went there, I was intimidated and scared. Slowly, I'd learnt to appreciate the bustle and pulse and unlimited tourists around. Slowly, I learned to focus on my own solitude and walk around wrapped in the comfort of the crowd who would never know who I am.
Walking around Times Square were Lost In Translation moments for me. I was locked in my own world, in my own belljar, safe from the maddening crowd. Because I had an overload of everything, I became numb to everything, even myself.
A surreal and extremely sensuous experience.
Posted by lainey at 04:58 AM | Comments (0)
Modern Nepenthe
Nepenthe : ne·pen·the
Pronunciation: n&-'pen(t)-thE
Function: noun
Etymology: Latin nepenthes, from Greek nEpenthes, neuter of nEpenthEs banishing pain and sorrow, fromnE- not + penthos grief, sorrow; akin to Greek pathos suffering -- more at NO, PATHOS
Date: 1580
1 : a potion used by the ancients to induce forgetfulness of pain or sorrow
2 : something capable of causing oblivion of grief or suffering
3 : A synonym for liquid Opium used in the 19th century, for example, in Poe's "The Raven"
4: A genus (Nepenthes) of carnivorous tropical pitcher plants
"Can we become numb to life's sharpest arrows," asks the president's bioethics council, "without becoming numb to its greatest joys?"
Posted by lainey at 04:51 AM | Comments (0)
Altered We Are
If I take his theory far off, we are all altered. And I disagree but, it is still a scary premise.
Gattaca scared the hell out of me.
Posted by lainey at 04:46 AM | Comments (1)
April 07, 2004
My Little World
An extremely good friend of mine is in a sort of a rut currently. She feels that she's in a quagmire of sorts and there's nothing she can do to get out of it. In fact, when I suggested we spruce up our lives together, the only thing she could come up with was to go speed-dating.
We had a long talk on a bench outside Suntec City and then, we adjourned to Baker's Inn to relish on souffles. Talking, drinking tea and watching her chainsmoke as she contemplates her state of life made my heart break. In fact, her solution to escape her state of life was to go drinking everynight.
Everyone escapes in different ways. She escapes into intoxicity. I know some who escape into work, others who escape into movies, music or materialism. I escape into books.
She asked me if I'm happy. And she presumes that I should be happy now that I'm attached and free from The Institution's fetters.
I wonder if I'm happy.
I don't really do much these days. And I tentatively do little things to avoid being a complete bum. No matter what, I need a lil functionality in my life. Fortunately for me, it is not too hard to find some function in this world we live in. There is always someone to teach, someone to talk to, some book to read, something to clean up.
Am I happy?
I don't think I dare be as preposterous as to presume I am happy anymore.
I am not sad.
I am not negative. I live my days trying my best.
Trying my best to be functional.
I try my best not to feel too much.
I know, if I keep my feelings in check, I am safe.
Safe from topsy turvy spiralling somersaults from Saturn.
And I need to be as safe as possible as I try to figure out what I really want to do with my life.
I can't go on living like this, can I?
Waking up in the mornings to read the papers. Going to gym. Taking afternoon siestas. Giving tuition in the evening. Occasionally meeting up with the boyfriend. Occasionally keeping in touch with a friend or two. Then coming home to read till late at night, till I'm so tired I fall asleep.
And the next day, it continues.
My world is a safe little world now. It is unobstrusive and it can almost revolve around the galaxy without affecting anyone or having anyone affect it.
But is my safe little world the best world to live in?
So far, it is the only world I can manage.
Let me expand my horizons slowly.
Please.
So I wish for you to be happy. I wish for you to live life to the fullest.
I need to take a break for the time being.
I need to take a break from feelings. From tumultuous emotions of hazardous highs and desolate downs.
I need a break from trying to be happy, trying not be sad.
I just need a break and start from the beginning, take baby steps.
It's not that bad a thing, is it?
Posted by lainey at 10:55 PM | Comments (2)
April 04, 2004
Boredom is Evil
"Boredom is rage spread thin, Boredom is paradise," exults the poet Billy Collins, by e-mail from New York. It's "the blessed absence of what the world offers as 'interesting,' i.e. , the lures of fashion, media and other people, which, you may recall, Sartre considered Hell."
Posted by lainey at 02:27 PM | Comments (0)
April 03, 2004
Bad Papa!
After crawling in and out of bed for the last four hours or so, I finally abandoned any real hope of sleeping and got out of bed for good. Gotta go for Ching Ming later upon Mom's bidding not because I have a particularly great affinity for the dead but because it makes the living feel better that I go.
I do think that's what life is about. A living human trying to make the other living feel better. We are stuch with the same fate, we'd better help each other out. I feel for my cousin and I feel for Mom. And I think though my presence will not make a difference, my absence definitely would.
So anyway, I met up with Best Friend who made me cry a little but we were so happy we met up and we had a really good time with tea and muffins. Silly other half got back in time before I went home too so I popped by to say hi and then I dutifully crawled home in a futile attempt to eat and sleep.
But what I really want blog about is this..
Saw Boon online and asked him if he was free in the evening to meet. For a walk around town and a chat. I guess I am always trying to duplicate life in Melbourne with my friends in Melbourne. Boon is like my papa in Melbourne. He would cook dinner for me, nag at me to study, study at the library with me and acquiesce to my whims and fancies.
He was always there for me and my strange-latenight-walking frenzies. I would just message him or call him and demand he goes walking with me! And in the middle of the night, we will prowl the deserted streets of Melbourne while rambling and ranting about anything and everything. We will go from store window to store window and he would comment if a certain dress, shoe, bag suits me or not. And we did agree it was best I hit town at a time when the stores were closed, so I couldn't do much shopping at all.
There was once I absolutely had to go running at 2am in the morning because I binged on a heavy supper. He thought I was crazy and told me not to go because it would be dangerous. But crazy crazy lainey told papa that if he doesn't go with me, I would go anyway. With a resigned sigh, he walked with me to Melb Uni's running track in pitch darkness and like an army officer, supervised my running in mock stern-ness. He said that since I made him watch me run, I had better make it worthwhile.
So just now, when he asked me why I wanted to meet up. I screamed at him.
misss u arrrrrrr!
too busy for elaine right!
what a bad papa!!
To which he smiled and laughed and so I indignantly told him,
you bad papa!
I'm going to blog about you now!
Which really quite explains this nonsensical post. :)
But yeah, I miss my papa. :p
Posted by lainey at 05:01 AM | Comments (0)
April 02, 2004
A Second Chance
The past week has been a week of reflection. As I run my errands, go for walks and lead daily life, I had alot more time to be alone than before. I read my books and write in little notebooks. I talk to myself in my head and I wondered about the past few months.
I realised I've been a monster in many ways. And I realised I got carried away in many other. I guess I allowed myself to free-wheel out of control because I did not stop to think. Stop to consider repurcussions. Stop to wonder about implications. Stop to realise what I was doing wrong. 2004 did not start out quite right and I hope it's not too late to make amends. I mean, it's only April, we are not even at the halfway mark yet. Are we?
So that's all I'm asking now. Give me a bit of time, give me a bit of space, to clean up the mess I've created. In the meantime, give me a second chance.
Posted by lainey at 01:50 PM | Comments (0)
April 01, 2004
100 Years of Solitude
I've finally finished it! Reading it was tedious. Gabriel Garcia Marquez is a fantastic writer. It feels like he wrote each chapter in one breath, so I had to read each chapter in one breath too.
I've been caught in my own solitary world while I read the book. In a world where magical realism and sadness take precedence, the rest of the world does not matter. I had been more engrossed in the Southern American town of Macondo which had been damned to 100 years of solitude.
Marquez started off whimsical and when I first began reading the book, I would be smiling and giggling at his writing which was so full of heart full of soul but light and fluttery at the same time. But as I read on, he paints a world in reflection to our world. Full of pain, full of sadness and full of delusion. Throughout the book, despite our quest for knowledge, love or religion, it rings the sad theme that we are all ultimately alone in this world.
Each character in the book in locked in their own world, own time, own lives and as much as they try, there's no getting out of it. Destiny tracks them down to haunt them. Their lives have been written out 100 years before themselves.
Are we all doomed? Is Gabriel Garcia Marquez writing a social commentary of this world that we live in?
What a bleak bleak world it is in such a wonderful book!
What exquisite writing heralding such horrendous news!
Will I ever read this book again? Like movies that traumatise, no, I will not touch this book, ever again.
"...Before reaching the final line, however, he had foreseen that the city of mirrors (or mirages) would be wiped out by the wind and exiled from the memory of men at the precise moment when Aureliano Babilonia would finish deciphering the parchments, and that everything written on them was unrepeatable since time immemorial and forever more, because races condemned to one hundred years of solitude did not have a second opportunity on earth."
-One Hundred Years of Solitude, Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Posted by lainey at 09:54 PM | Comments (0)
Interesting article. I never talk
Interesting article.
I never talk to my hairdresser or my massage therapists or the like, does that explain everything?
Posted by lainey at 10:22 AM | Comments (0)