Thursday, April 4, 2013

Love in the Time of Cholera

WARNING: THIS REVIEW CONTAINS SPOILERS

...Yes. I have returned from a 11-day absence to announce that I have finally finished reading Love in the Time of Cholera and that the predilections I established the last time I posted about this book turned out to be... inaccurate/irrelevant.

"How does the love between Jeremiah and his lover differ? We will find out," I wrote.

We don't find out. We do not. Jeremiah and the parrot essentially vanish for the remainder of the book (?!??). I'm currently part of a Goodreads forum that tackles this exact issue; hopefully any wisdom-nuggets I glean from that will ameliorate my confusion.

Jeremiah's fleeting appearance, however, gives us mini-glimpses of grand themes to come: age (life-death) and love. His death also indirectly causes Urbino's death, which causes the arrival of a certain individual (who later develops into an extremely unlikable protagonist) - Florentina Ariza - who avows his apparent unfaltering love for Ferminana Daza (yes, Urbino's widow; what?). To complete the compendium: the rest of the novel revolves around the relationship (not using the word love here, you'll see why in a moment) between Florentina Ariza and Fermina Daza.


LOVE = CHIMERIC

In a way, Ariza is akin to a Spanish Romeo, more concerned with the effects of apocryphal love on him than the reality of the women he is infatuated with. Initially, a myriad of clandestinely delivered letters between the two (and the occasional camellia) is all that encompasses their love... the two are maddeningly wedged within the abyss of enchantment. Young, betrothed, ready-to-wed, it is only when Daza sees Ariza in the square, that she thinks to herself (incredible line):
“Today, when I saw you, I realized that what is between us is nothing more than an illusion.”
... Naturally, her rejection renders Ariza abject. She maintains an equanimity throughout the foundering of their 'love' while Ariza is still endorsed under the spell of his "self-absorbed love,"even after Daza eventually weds Urbino.
“She knew that he loved her above all else, more than anything in the world, but only for his own sake.”
“He asked himself, with his infinite capacity for illusion, if such pitiless indifference might not be a subterfuge for hiding the torments of love.”
Ariza has an "insatiable need for love" and is therefore actuated by all things amorous. His constant infatuation/obsession can honestly tire readers out; I constantly fluctuated between "stop being a creep" and "forget about her and find someone new."

Technically, throughout the book he has occasional flings with widows (ironic as later Daza becomes a widow anyway), and even a young girl (who commits suicide after Ariza, the prick, runs off to woo Daza after Urbino's death), but in the end, Daza has always been his target.

He 'deserves' empathy, but piteously so. Nonetheless, don't bash on him too much. As Daza's aunt said: “he is ugly and sad... but he is all love.”

LOVE = CHOLERA

So what are effects of this illusory love?

All that was needed was shrewd questioning, first of the patient and then of his mother to conclude once again that the symptoms of love were the same as those of Cholera. The doctor prescribed infusion of linden blossoms to calm the nerves and suggested a change of air so he could find consolation in distance but the man longed for just the opposite, to enjoy his martyrdom.

Throughout the novel, connections are constantly being drawn between love and cholera
This, for me, was the most fascinating parallel this book offered; love as a disease. Heartbreak as a sickness. To be consumed by love and driven to death's doorstep by it. To be incurable. The pitfalls of love and the effects of cholera are not so different when looked at in this perspective. Considering the feverish and insatiable state Ariza is in for the entire book, this makes a lot of logical sense. Urbino, a doctor, cured many cholera cases. It is ironic to think that the man who was the most overwhelmed with 'cholera' was infatuated with his own wife.

Cholera makes a symbolic reappearance at the end, too, when Daza and Ariza are on the boat.

OLD AGE

The latter part of the novel progresses chronologically, and ends with Daza and Ariza both old and withered. Ariza has pursued Daza to the age where, already old and feeble, she can no longer throw huge tantrums to dismiss him. It is also the age where neither can get too physically involved (http://i3.kym-cdn.com/photos/images/original/000/430/609/3d9.png); perhaps the bodily attrition of both renders them capable of sustaining a companion-based relationship. Their young past is behind them. This is best illustrated in the quote below:

“It was the first time in a half century that they had been so close and had enough time to look at each other with some serenity and they had seen each other for what they were: two old people, ambushed by death, who had nothing in common except the mercy of an ephemeral past that was no longer theirs but belonged to two young people who had vanished and who could have been their grandchildren.”


Growing old is a theme Marquez throws at us in the first chapter (arguably the first page). Jeremiah avoided it by setting a death-date, Urbino avoided it like the plague by being a health guru, but neither Daza nor Ariza really considered the reality of the "humiliation, suffering and frightful loneliness" of old age until they were smack in the middle of it.

“It was as if they had leapt over the arduous cavalry of conjugal life and gone straight to the heart of love. They were together in silence like an old married couple wary of life, beyond the pitfalls of passion, beyond the brutal mockery of hope and the phantoms of disillusion: beyond love. For they had lived together long enough to know that love was always love, anytime and anyplace, but it was more solid the closer it came to death.”


^Chilling, isn't it? What's even more chilling is the last page of the book; the captain of the boat inquires, "how long do you think we can keep up this goddamn coming and going?" Ariza replies, "'Forever.'"

DOES that sound like an acceptance of old age/death to you?? ... I don't think so (lord, Ariza is so detestable). At the end, Ariza succumbs to his illusions/love/'cholera.'


In conclusion... this novel is just teetering with symbolic significance and powerful themes that throw romance in a plague-like perspective, and its antipathy-attracting protagonist fits right into the core of it all. The novel is impressively constructed (and the version I read: Kudos to Edith Grossman for a fluid translation). It's just a shame us readers weren't exposed to Jeremiah's storyline!!

 One final quote:
The years of immobilized waiting, of hoping for good luck, were behind him, but on the horizon he could see nothing more than the unfathomable sea of imaginary illnesses, the drop-by-drop urinations of sleepless nights, the daily death at twilight. He thought that all the moments in the day, which had once been his allies and sworn accomplices, were beginning to conspire against him.

Sunday, March 24, 2013

Sixteen

Today,

I turn sixteen. Not four or twenty, but somewhere in between;
a grown fern, a gold flare: I feel bold and already very old.

I have sixteen years of thoughts and fears behind me (mountain and sea):
all well-wrought and welded knots on an ongoing seam.

//

I have around 100 pages left for Love in the Time of Cholera, and I will stomach another 50 before bed tonight, hopefully.

Wednesday, March 20, 2013

At nightfall, at the oppressive moment of transition, a tender breath of human sht, warm and sad, stirred the certainty of death in the depths of one's soul



I've had a wreck of a week, but my test-streak just ended so I'm about to go on a serious reading rampage. I'm currently reading Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel Garcia Marquez; this is a book I considered picking up a while ago but could not stand. Now, I'm hooked.

It was inevitable: the scent of bitter almonds always reminded him of the fate of unrequited love.


How poignant, right??
[note from the future: I've just finished the book and Daza and Ariza meet under an almond tree... almonds everywhere...so this brilliant first sentence did have foreshadowing intentions]
So far so good - Urbino is a fascinating (but not very likable) character. He is a self-deemed devoted catholic, he hates animals (yet tolerates a parrot? Further expatiation on the parrot's significance will come later), and he seems to live off his reputation (background information: he was a doctor and is now incredibly wealthy). He is also a health-nut and at 81 years of age, is obsessed with longevity (and due to this he has sketchy medicinal routines) which is interesting because the book opens with the suicide of one of Urbino's close friends, Jeremiah Saint-Amour, who was determined to die at age 60; I'll delve into this as the book progresses.

The setting of this novel is relevant; it's a colonial city ("illusion of memory") and although Urbino (who lives in more of a high-profile residential area) is detached from it, after reading Jeremiah's note he is obliged to plunge into "the city drowned in memories." So, there is a sense of readers being taken back in time, back into the time of cholera...

Urbino despises animals yet diligently trains a parrot who is afforded "privileges that no one else in the family ever had." Many would visit Urbino to hear his talented parrot sing. Even after the parrot refused to sing for the president (why?), it still maintains its privileges. Why, why why? We'll find out.

LOVE is going to be a theme astoundingly expressed in this novel, I can foresee it... readers are already exposed to the relationship between Urbino and his wife which seems to be a "mutual dependence [... more based] on convenience" that with the decline of age, has also declined "beyond the reach of pity." Their gravest argument was over soap - Urbino's wife will not back down. Their love is "mythical and perverse" (the word 'darkness' is stressed many times in the passage that explores their relationship); how does the love between Jeremiah and his lover differ? We will find out.

OK enough vague rambling, off to read now...

Friday, March 15, 2013

I don't want to be a good man... I want to be a great one

ALERT: THIS POST CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS 

I just got back from watching Oz: the Great and Powerful (aka much needed Franco time, aka much needed diversion, aka much needed reassurance of the legitimacy of 3D in film).

Time seriously whizzes by; I remember when there only existed a frail IMBD page of this movie, and now it's out! Next thing you know the movie adaptation of Child of God (seriously two of my favorite people smushed in one; Franco + McCarthy) will be out! Next thing you know I'll be 50! Lord.

Anyway, first off: THE SOUNDTRACK IS MARVELOUS! At times it resonates with the Star Wars theme, and even (strange: this could be just me) One Day More, but all in all it is extremely Elfman-ish (listen to the Charlotte's Web score and you'll understand) and he did a beautiful job incorporating circus-like/spooky/new-world elements into the score.

Music is fantastically used in this movie; Oz begins with his lame music box that 'his grandmother gave to him' and then we delve deeper into Oz, where the lilly pads resemble piano keys and the vines are wind chimes.


THE MAIN IDEA: Nothing is what it seems to be
Then entire world of Oz is proof enough of this theory - it is implied that Franco Oz winds up there after yelling at the heavens to give him a chance (which was a line, I must say, Franco could have put more effort into delivering). And it just so happens to be named after him, just so happens to offer the opportunities he did not have in 'real life' (fabulous parallels between Annie & Glenda, wooing May (!!!!!!!) and Theodora, not being able to help the little girl walk yet curing the China Girl...).

So nothing is what it seems to be! Glenda seems like the witch of death until she takes off her dreaded cloak (but to be honest, I always thought there was something sketchy about green-sequin-clad Rachel Weisz/Evanora). The China girl seems teeny weeny until she single-handedly delivers the magic wand to Glenda. Oz seems like all he desires is gold until he pulls his greatest act. And... what is the land of Oz? Just a figment of Oz's imagination to seize the girl of his dreams and become the great (or as Glenda later puts it, good) man he always wanted to be? Side note: the battle over greatness/goodness is a discussion for a later time; I think I touched on it enough in my East of Eden review.

Then again...


It is what it is if you believe it to be.

And this is the entire point of Oz sustaining his wizard status, and his purpose for remaining in Oz.


Overall, this movie was wonderful! Yes, this is a biased James Franco fan speaking. Still, the 3D was incredible at times (HONESTLY), the entire cinematic scope (the bubbles, the colors, the magical land of Oz) was beautiful, and the story was extremely well-rounded. It had all the necessary ups/downs/plot exploits.  Fantastic use of special effects (the opening credits especially)! Mila Kunis, may I add, was a fabulous screecher. 

There are many reasons to watch this movie - Franco  to admire the special effects used is definitely the top of the list! 

Saturday, March 9, 2013

Where can I go?

So many exciting things are happening -
1) 'Once I was an Eagle' confirmed release = May 27th (!!!)

This sounds exactly like Laura Marling (I mean, it is her but still), I'm thrilled.
2) OZ IS OUT

3) I've discovered the glories of online-shopping.