|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Colette" from ON LOVE
My mother used to say, "Sit down, dear, and don't cry. The
worst thing for a woman is her first man--the one who kills
you. After that, marriage becomes a long career." Poor Sido! She
never had another career and she knew first-hand how love ruins
you. The seducer doesn't care about his woman, even as he whispers
endearments in her ear.
Never let anyone destroy your inner
spirit. Among all the forms of truly absurd courage the
recklessness of young girls is outstanding. Otherwise there would be
far fewer marriages and even fewer affairs that overwhelm
marriages. Look at me: it's amazing I'm still standing after what
I went through with ridiculous courage. I was made to suffer, but no
one broke my spirit.
Every woman wants her adventure to be a
feast of ripening cherries and peaches, Marseilles figs, hot-house
grapes, champagne shuddering in crystal. Happiness, we believe, is on
sumptuous display. But unhappiness writes a different kind of
play. The gypsy gazes down into a clear blue crystal and sees
rotten cherries and withered figs. Trust me: loneliness, too, can be
a feast.
Ardor is delicious, but keep your own room. One of my
husbands said: is it impossible for you to write a book that isn't
about love, adultery, semi-incestuous relations, separation? (Of
course, this was before our own separation.) He never understood the
natural law of love, the arc from the possible to the
impossible... I have extolled the tragedy of the bedroom.
We
need exact descriptions of the first passion, so pay attention to
whatever happens to you. Observe everything: love is greedy and
forgetful. By all means fling yourself wildly into life (though
sometimes you will be flung back by life) but don't let experience
make you forgetful and be surprised by everything that happens to
you. We are creative creatures fuelled by passion.
One final
thought about the nature of love. Freedom should be the first
condition of love and work is liberating (a novel about
love cannot be written while you are making love). Never
underestimate the mysteries of love, the eminent dignity of not
talking about love. Passionate attention is prayer, prayer is
love. Savor the world. Consume the feast with love.
Excerpted from On Love by Edward Hirsch. Copyright© 1998 by Edward Hirsch. Excerpted by permission of Alfred A. Knopf, Inc., a division of
Random House LLC. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher. Photo credit: Janet Landay.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|