Good books cause the brain to go on strike,' Cărtărescu reflects, on what makes a book good. Late at night I finished his novel "Travesty" which had a striking effect upon my midnight reflection. The subject focuses on an emotional climax, a decisive one for protagonist's maturity. I strongly recommend this book and let you discover what gives the substance of its action. In stead of retelling, I will make you see differently the transition towards maturity.
Victor, the leading character, notices the presence of his younger schoolmates, girls at the age of 10-12; their image provoke stream of harsh affection in teenager's mind. He perceives them “somehow mature, locked in mystery as in the sad moonlight shadow". This bitter light makes them look grown-up females and unveils their fecundity. "If you talked to them, you would immediately realize that they were children- children who were still drawing princesses on their math notebooks. Watching them, I hated more and more the hormonal curse - a total disaster that in twenty years will have transformed them into lascivious females, snob wives, filthy housekeepers, frustrated schoolmistresses, masochist intellectuals - Married, divorced, pregnant again and again, swallowing contraceptive, changing diapers, devouring their men, pouring out their gray substance. Why should they fall? Why can't at least some of them remain naive, gracious and serene? While the nasty worm becomes butterfly, why should they, fragile butterflies, become procreator, rapacious larvae?"
The conclusion left me speechless: "Yes, all of them will reach in a matrimonial bed, a bed which is nothing but a travesty of their own coffin"
The view upon little girls' future is quite bitter. At first lecture, I reacted as discriminated and punished - I am living myself the transition. The description lacks romanticism, but it is entirely applicable, even feminism did a lot for us. Not only women, but society may decay through mental erosion and worn out affection. In fact, the travesty is the dangerous attitude. It may not always lead to a coffin disguised in silky sheets, but it will definitely ruin the emotional inheritance. We may forget childhood and serenity, we may forget that we were butterflies, once...
Victor, the leading character, notices the presence of his younger schoolmates, girls at the age of 10-12; their image provoke stream of harsh affection in teenager's mind. He perceives them “somehow mature, locked in mystery as in the sad moonlight shadow". This bitter light makes them look grown-up females and unveils their fecundity. "If you talked to them, you would immediately realize that they were children- children who were still drawing princesses on their math notebooks. Watching them, I hated more and more the hormonal curse - a total disaster that in twenty years will have transformed them into lascivious females, snob wives, filthy housekeepers, frustrated schoolmistresses, masochist intellectuals - Married, divorced, pregnant again and again, swallowing contraceptive, changing diapers, devouring their men, pouring out their gray substance. Why should they fall? Why can't at least some of them remain naive, gracious and serene? While the nasty worm becomes butterfly, why should they, fragile butterflies, become procreator, rapacious larvae?"
The conclusion left me speechless: "Yes, all of them will reach in a matrimonial bed, a bed which is nothing but a travesty of their own coffin"
The view upon little girls' future is quite bitter. At first lecture, I reacted as discriminated and punished - I am living myself the transition. The description lacks romanticism, but it is entirely applicable, even feminism did a lot for us. Not only women, but society may decay through mental erosion and worn out affection. In fact, the travesty is the dangerous attitude. It may not always lead to a coffin disguised in silky sheets, but it will definitely ruin the emotional inheritance. We may forget childhood and serenity, we may forget that we were butterflies, once...
Un comentariu:
Thank you for letting us know something about the good book you have just read. I hope I'll read it as soon as I get rid of my allergy to Cartarescu-and to all the "trendy" writers in general. /however, even if we can't stay forever butterflies, at least we could grow ourselves some new wings, or safekeep the ones that have fallen. Looking forward to seeing you.
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