Posts Tagged ‘love’

“The Signature of All Things” took me by surprise. It is another book that I started reading trying to understand what readers like in contemporary books.

Soon after I started reading it, I completely forgot my initial intention. I was drawn into it and forgot about the rest of the world.
The book is a family saga of two generations only. It’s written in the language of the 19th century, the time of the events. A young Dutch poor adolescent boy, Henry, becomes a rich man settling in Pennsylvania. He marries a competent Dutch woman, and they have two daughters (one of them adopted). The story of the second generation focuses on Alma, the biological daughter, who has an extraordinary intellect, a scientific mind and a desire to be loved and love.

What’s striking about most of the book is the sheer amount of research Gilbert has carried out and the brilliant way she embedded that within the plot and the characters of the novel. The ability to sustain the language style of that era is also impressive. Some readers might be disappointed by the part of the story taking place in Tahiti, even though it offers an image of that population at that time that if right, it is essential to know and sense.

At some stage, I thought that I would struggle towards the end of this long novel, given its sheer size, as it has happened frequently. Alas, no, the last part of the story brings again to light the amount of research Gilbert carried out on other areas, among others the emergence of the theory of evolution. Gilbert brings daringly into the narrative the contradictions and the gaps within the evolution theory. These are essential philosophical gaps to consider, frequently forgotten or unknown. With that, the novel captivated me until the very last page.

Who would have thought after “Eat, Pray, Love,” such a different, rich book? Who?t

Abandoned With my ‘Fingers Burnt’?

Posted: September 1, 2018 in Musings
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Wise Friend,

My main feeling these days is of having been abandoned – you know – all alone – the only people who ever loved me are dead…dar dum de dar…

It’s good that you’re a long way away – I’m a lousy company at the moment.

Sensitive Friend,

You are always a great company for me. Some people love you very much including me. What you yearn is intimate love, which includes hugging and kissing and rolling you into a lover’s arms – from parents’s deep love to that of lovers. That love is scarce (one can count from one to three in total – two of them are the parents when lucky ) and valuable, and you might now concentrate on that as missing.

Wise Friend,

Sure that’s what is missing I agree, but I’m very `fingers burnt’ and consider myself a real failure on that score. Can’t imagine EVER letting anyone get close enough again.


Dearest Friend,

Delauney’s painting – Sometimes I look at it, and it seems as agitated as our souls right now. A few minutes later, I look again, and I see peace and quiet, but with energy and fire. Somehow it represents us: while it scares me, it calms me as well, and it gives me joy, too. Be happy; it’s your birthday.


Wise Friend,

I’m so far. I wish I would be able to touch you so slightly, so lightly. Happy birthday and many happy returns – please laugh a lot with your beautiful laughter.

You brought me a fantastic year. I wish you goodness and a comfortable life, and to never regret that gift so loaded, so pregnant. Whatever has happened, our love, may it be a sign of only good things to come to you.

Dearest Friend,

Now, don’t blame me. What possibilities, do you think that could have crossed my mind back then? After two years, I left him. I was nine years younger than you, and I was so immature.

How was it possible that I was there for those years, and we didn’t ‘know’ each one about the other and each one for the other? Has life toyed with us, like a joke? What did it want from us to prove?

That we’re two people kind and caring? I have no idea if I would have reacted to your signs. I responded to the warmth in your voice, at sunset, looking both of us over that valley I love. I acted, not as an adult, but as a little child to whom somebody finally told how valuable might be.

Wise Friend,

Maybe if you had persisted, I would have been intoxicated. It’s your fault you moved me too late and too fast. I left that place, the beloved country, with your words in my soul, with the warmth of your voice, feeling to some extent the attraction you had felt, not more than that.

You say you kept pushing the gas pedal, knowingly that the engine was not on. Suddenly the engine started, and we forgot reason. I, like you, had not imagined this was possible, even if deep down maybe I, like you, knew it was.

Why not, if we knew this is what we wanted, then why no other person who wanted the same showed up?