Wednesday, 8 August 2012

A Sentimental Education



Thinking love stories- measuring feelings, tempo, awkwardness, goodbyes, I found myself feeling a little lonely…


There are some characters that one just can’t forget, they’re always there (here) somehow- it’s like once read, they become a part of one. It happens mostly with the Russians. I often ask myself what Pyotr Stepanovich would do in such and such situation- or Sharikov.
It’s mostly men, because I write in the male voice.



It also happens with Roberto and his Island of the Day Before.
He also shares name and dreamy nature with one of the characters in my play Parrots – and I didn’t know him by the time of writing. It was a lovely coincidence.


Well, it is now time for Frederic Moreau to take part in my life. 

And today, confused by my own thoughts and feelings and by the world and people around me, I imagined what it would be like for him to be in my world.
And since I always escape to some place in the eighteen hundreds when I want to avoid the now, I decided it was only fair for Frederic to sit next to me and experience my frustrations right here, in the present tense.



He did.

But the present time doesn’t suit him yet, so we ended going back to Paris, in ‘long time ago’, where our sentimental nature was not only suitable, but also fancy.
I wrote a few lines while the horses of our carriage accelerated through the streets towards the river.

....


He sits next to her.
Right next to her.



The immediacy of that sadness doesn’t do her well.
She herself has a propensity to melancholy…


Visibly depressed, his face in his hands.
The romanticism of the eighteen hundreds probably suited him a lot better than this… he just isn’t used to all that Facebook paraphernalia; he is constantly confused by the intensity of the times.

“What point is there in all that?” he asks.
Oh, but Frederic, you know nothing about this.
You don’t understand – don’t be a fool, you behave like an old man.
With the complications of your already depressive manners, this time doesn’t suit you… you need time and space to concentrate on lighter matters, your priorities are misplaced- the pace of your feelings too slow.

Long love letters are a thing of the past; messages are now weighted in speed not in length.

Speed- not beauty.

Frederic, what a rubbish time you have chosen to come to!