IN THE GOLDEN LIGHT OF THOSE SUNDAYS THEY LIVE ON, BRIGHT STILL WITH THE COLOURS THAT MEMORY GIVES TO THOSE WHO ENRICH OUR LIVES BY TEARS OR BY LAUGHTER – UNAWARE THEMSELVES THAT THEY HAVE GIVEN US ANYTHING. THE REALLY HORRIBLE THING IS THAT THE COMPULSIVE PASSION WHICH JUSTINE LIT IN ME WAS QUITE AS VALUABLE AS IT WOULD HAVE BEEN ‘REAL’; MELISSAS GIFT WAS NO LESS AN ENIGMA – WHAT COULD SHE HAVE OFFERED ME, IN TRUTH, THIS PALE WAIF OF THE ALEXANDRIAN LITTORAL? WAS CLEA ENRICHED OR BEGGARED BY HER RELATIONS WITH JUSTINE? ENRICHED – IMMEASURABLY ENRICHED, I SHOULD SAY. ARE WE THEN NOURISHED ONLY BY FICTIONS, BY LIES? I RECALL THE WORDS BALTHAZAR WROTE DOWN SOMEWHERE IN HIS TALL GRAMMARIANS HANDWRITING: ‘WE LIVE BY SELECTED FICTIONS’ ALSO: ‘EVERYTHING IS TRUE OF EVERYBODY..’ WERE THESE WORDS OF PURSEWARDENS QUARRIED FROM HIS OWN EXPERIENCE OF MEN & WOMEN, OR SIMPLY FROM A CAREFUL OBSERVATION OF US, OUR BEHAVIORS & THEIR RESULT? I DONT KNOW. A PASSAGE COMES TO MIND FROM A NOVEL IN WHICH PURSEWARDEN SPEAKS ABOUT THE ROLE OF THE ARTIST IN LIFE. HE SAYS SOMETHING LIKE THIS: ‘AWARE OF EVERY DISCORD, OF EVERY CALAMITY IN THE NATURE OF MAN HIMSELF, HE CAN DO NOTHING TO WARN HIS FRIENDS, TO POINT, TO CRY OUT IN TIME & TRY TO SAVE THEM. IT WOULD BE USELESS. FOR THEY ARE DELIBERATE FACTORS OF THEIR OWN UNHAPPINESS. ALL THE ARTIST CAN SAY AS AN IMPERATIVE IS: ‘REFLECT & WEEP'.
ALEXANDRIA QUARTET / LAWRENCE DURRELL
POSTED 1.53AM BY MONIKA BIELSKYTE / SEE ALL POSTS RELATED TO THIS AUTHOR
..NOW TIRED MEN THROW BACK THE SHUTTERS & STEP BLINKING INTO THE PALE HOT LIGHT – ETIOLATED FLOWERS OF AFTERNOONS SPENT IN ANGUISH, TOSSING UPON UGLY BEDS, BANDAGED BY DREAMS. I HAVE BECOME ONE OF THESE POOR CLERKS OF THE CONSCIENCE, A CITIZEN OF ALEXANDRIA. SHE PASSES BELOW MY WINDOW, SMILING AS IF AT SOME PRIVATE SATISFACTION, SOFTLY FANNING HER CHEEKS WITH A LITTLE REED FAN. IT IS A SMILE WHICH I SHALL PROBABLY NEVER SEE AGAIN FOR IN COMPANY SHE ONLY LAUGHS, SHOWING THOSE MAGNIFICENT WHITE TEETH. BUT THIS SAD YET QUICK SMILE IS FULL OF A QUALITY WHICH ONE DOES NOT THINK SHE OWNS – THE POWER OF MISCHIEF. YOU WOULD HAVE SAID THAT SHE WAS OF A MORE TRAGIC CAST OF CHARACTER & LACKED COMMON HUMOR. ONLY THE OBSTINATE MEMORY OF THIS SMILE IS TO MAKE ME DOUBT IN THE DAYS TO COME
FROM ALEXANDRIA QUARTET BY LAWRENCE DURRELL