'Enigma Variations' | Aciman has created another masterpiece

 Hey There! 

Andre Aciman wrote a series of novellas following the loves of a single mans life and it blew me away. Admittedly sometimes it takes me a while to get knee deep into his books and they usually take me up to a week and a half to two weeks to finish but I KNOW that I have to read them as they contain such powerful and poetic nuggets that resonate with me in such a unique way. These stories are short and sharp and as each one ends it becomes stark and frustrating. It’s inconclusive but that’s why it’s beautiful because stories don’t usually show that life is inconclusive and blunt. Aciman is expert in showing the raw and beautiful nature of humanity and of love, this novel characterises his entire purpose as a writer by showing that love is abrupt and beautiful but not always peaceful.

Paul's 'First Love', an obsession with his towns cabinet-maker was written in true Aciman fashion. It felt similar to Elio and Oliver's relationship at the beginning of 'Call Me By Your Name', the younger boy pining over the humanity of the other (see quote from page 34) . But Nanni was sweet, he was paternal and though he never indulged in baby Paul's desires it was obvious that he dared to neither squish nor shame them. This became so clear when Nanni and Paul's dad ended up being in love. It felt really full circle and comforting. This story felt the most powerful and daring to me out of Paul's loves.

Paul's 'Star Love' was interesting also. I think that he would say that his Star Love was the love of his life. Though they rarely spoke , always fought and sometimes hated each other there was a soul tie between the two which meant that they could never fall out of love with each other. This one was like an arrow to the heart, I always imagined that that is how love should look. But it was by far the least satisfying to read about. In this section he has a point of showing cheating in a really baffling way. He doesn’t make it seem unethical but rather actively experiencing something new or different, nothing more and nothing bad.

I felt it important to note a quote towards the end of the book when he fashions the lamppost simile (see bold quote below) . The lampposts standing like people in the quadrangle of his soul place presents to me almost as a Charles Dickens like version of the Christmas Carol or a TS Elliot Hollow man moment where his past selves, current self and versions of him that never materialised stood and watched him drink from the wine of life with his star love.

Once again I felt like I was reading an epic and not a romance novel. This book was so beautiful and raw. The way Aciman explores the pure fluidity of sexual desire in a shameless way paints a utopic vision for the future of love in a world that embraces the beauty of gender without using it as a prison. It shows a alternative present where experiencing feelings to their height, their capacity is the most beautiful form of self love.

MY TABS:

• "I wanted to come back on the morrow and work with him, sit face-to-face with him as we'd done today, and occasionally draw closer to him to get a whiff of his underarms, which smelled like mine but much stronger" page 34
• "which is the beauty of assumptions: they anchor us without the slightest clue that what we're doing is trusting that nothing changes. We believe that the street we live on will remain the same and bear its name forever. We believe that our friends will stay our friend, and that those we love we'll love forever. We trust and, by dint of trusting, forget we trusted" page 38
• "Ill do exactly what the Brits did when they broke the Germans' Enigma code during the war. They knew when and where the Germans were planning bombing raids. But they refrained from stepping up defenses for fear of giving away that they had decrypted the enemy's code" page 97
• " 'We're all a bit like that aren't we? Like Sicily, I mean" ... 'We lead lives, nurse more identities than we care to admit, are given all manner of names, when in fact one, and one only is good enough' " page 107
• "My passion feeds on everything but air, then curdles like bad milk that never goes bad enough. It just sits there" page 132
• "I looked at your face and it was the face of someone with a scar on his inner right thigh. It made you so human. It loved you human. I wanted to hold you" page 151
• "...when we stared at each other in the way she wanted and has taught me to want, she and I were one life, one voice, one big, timeless something broken up into two meaningless parts called people. Two trees grafted into each other by nature, by longing, by time itself" page 184
• "Yes the past is a foreign country... but some of us are full-fledged citizens, others occasional tourists and some floating itinerants, itching to get out yet always aching to return" page 193
• “There is a life that takes place in ordinary time… And another that bursts in but just suddenly fizzles out. And then there is a life we may never reach that could so easily be ours if only we knew how to find it. It doesn’t necessarily happen on our planet but it’s just as real as the one we live – call it our star life” page 195
• "I have drunk from the wine of life as last" page 195
• “Learn to see what’s not always there to be seen and maybe then you’ll become someone” page 197
• “Regret is how we hope to back into our real lives once we find the will, the blind drive and courage, to trade in the life we’re given for the life the bears our name and only ours. regret is how we look forward to things we’ve lost yet never really had. Regret is hope without conviction, I said. We are torn between regret, which is the price to pay for things not done, and remorse, which is the cost for having done them. Between one and the other, time plays its cosy little tricks” Page 188
• “They understood so many, many things about me and in ways I might never fathom. And for a moment I thought they were not just lampposts but a collection of blazing selves shifting about in the cold, no different from nine head lit skittles, my nine lives, my unborn, unlived, unfinished nine selves asking whether they might be invited too or what to do with themselves if their time hadn’t come” page 232
• “Star love, my love, star love. It may not live but never dies. It’s the only thing I’m taking with me, and you will too, when the time comes” page 233

All the love, 

Scarlett in the sky (with diamonds)

The Song of Achilles | Speedy Book Thoughts

P.S. My audio recording of this post is included at the bottom

 Hey There, 

I am back at it again, reviewing an incredibly heart breaking queer romance novel which shattered my soul, leaving me, like usual, in a million tiny pieces. Each of these pieces being another unrealistic expectation, little shard of grief and lethargy or just a little tear that came out of my eye. Madeline Miller’s ‘The Song of Achilles’ is historical fiction from the perspective of Patroclus, the lover of Achilles and generally just the soft most sweet boy ever.

I felt unsure going into this book and found it difficult to trudge through the first couple chapters. That is, until they kissed for the first time and I literally melted into my mattress and stayed there for about 20 minutes before resurfacing to continue on. Having studied the Trojian war at school, watched hollywood movies about it and unfortunately already knowing how the book would end I was very glad with Miller's characterisation of Achilles. He was sweet and introverted and only became vicious as a result of becoming accustomed to death. This was incredible when juxtaposed to Patroclus’ character development. It was like they were two little dots on a straight line with bad on the left and good on the right. Patroclus starts pretty far to the left and Achilles to the right and as events unfold they slowly make their way to the other side. By the end of the book we view Patroclus not as an awkward castaway boy but a powerful man who can love and fight and who wants to help people and save them, whether they deserve it or not. As Achilles becomes seasoned we see him harden and grow in fierceness but never once does his love for Patroclus quiver. 

I also commend Miller on her portrayal of Bresis. Washing out the hideous narrative that likely occurred and instead presenting her as a strong female with autonomy and strength. Her last scene was especially powerful and it broke my heart. Her relationship with Patroclus was incredibly heartwarming and special. I like to think that two characters continue to live on beyond us and what we read of them. That they continue to giggle and throw olives at each other in the afterlife.

I would highly recommend this book to people who enjoy queer romance, historical fiction or just want a good old cry. I rate this book 5/5 stars because if I cry for more than 5 minutes after I’ve finished the last page, I know that I will carry it with me for the rest of my life. And oh BOY is the last page a tear jerker. I chose not to include any quotes from the end in this review because you deserve to experience them in real time.

Here are some of my highlights: 

• "said what he meant; he was puzzled if you did not. Some people might have mistaken this for simplicity. But is it not a sort of genius to cut always to the heart?"
• "And as we swam, or played, or talked, a feeling would come. It was almost like fear, in the way it filled me, rising in my chest. It was almost like tears, in how swiftly it came. But it was neither of those, buoyant where they were heavy, bright where they were dull."
• "‘And perhaps it is the greater grief, after all, to be left on earth, when another is gone. Do you think?"
• "I would know it in dark, or disguise, I told myself. I would know it even in madness"
• "I will never leave him. It will be this, always, for as long as he will let me"
• "We were like gods, at the dawning of the world, and our joy was so bright we could see nothing else but the other"
• "I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell, I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world"
• "When he died, all things swift and beautiful and bright would be buried with him"
• "You can use a spear as a walking stick, but that will not change its nature."
• "No hands had ever been so gentle, nor so deadly"
• "He is half of my soul, as the poets say"
• "‘We cannot say who will survive the holocaust of memory"

Talk Soon. 

All the Love, 

Scar.

Why the stigma against romance/ YA books is rooted in misogyny.

Hey There!

I have a bone to pick. Why is it that when I'm reading twilight on the bus I feel the need to cover the front  so that people think I'm more ~sophisticated~  or ~intelligent~ ? Why do I, an adult, feel ashamed telling someone that I am reading a YA (young adult) book at the moment? And why on earth do I get nervous paying for it at the bookstore because I think the person at the register will view less of me? I will often even justify myself saying "I know its embarrassing, but its just nostalgic and fun"

I will tell you why. Young women are never seen as valid enough. Thus the interests and opinions of young women are never seen as valid enough through the male gaze. Us Gen Z girls will recall that One Direction was only 'shit' in 2011 because it was widely appreciated by a demographic of young women. Your grandmother will recall that the same was said about The Beatles who are now considered the greatest musical artist's of all time according to the Rolling Stones.  The things that we value are not considered valuable until men dictate that they are and make it widespread. 

 

This has been said about women's magazines which discuss issues pertaining solely to women such as Cosmopolitan. Don't forget Louisa May Alcott, Karen Blixen and the Bronte Sisters who were only able to publish under a male pseudonym.  Society views women, especially young women, as not being mature or respectable enough to enjoy their own niche interests or to produce anything of value compared to their male counterparts. 

How does this relate to YA books when boys surely read them too? Sure they do. Harry Potter for example is vastly appreciated by young and old people of all genders. But don't ignore that it was written from the perspective of a white, cis, straight male and published by J.K Rowling and not Joanne Rowling, another guise in place to conceal the authors gender (Note: I will no longer be supporting Joanne due to the recent unveiling of her disgusting transphobia). 

50 Shades, Twilight, Sarah J. Maas have a largely young female reading audience and are also 'sexy' books. The patriarchy states that these books are not particularly valuable. I think that this is because as women, we may have to seek 'smutty' books and fanfiction. Porn is not made for women because porn objectifies women's bodies and focus' solely on the man's pleasure. Even lesbian porn is glorified in a way that exists primarily to 'turn on' a man. Some women have turned to erotic books or fanfiction written by other women to fulfil their sexual fantasies because their needs are simply not catered for elsewhere. Once again, if it caters to women it is simply not enough to be valued by men and is therefore simply not valuable . 

I can't even begin to indulge in my distain for the lack of representation of queer people and especially queer women in popular fiction. And no, Ms Rowling stating that Dumbledore is gay, 10 years after the release of the final book, with no actual canon representation doesn't count. Go ahead, think of the last time you read a piece of fiction (that was not primarily written as a queer novel) and enjoyed a lesbian or bisexual character who had a personality and any characterised substance that wasn't directly rooted to her sexuality or presented by grotesque generalisations and stereotypes. I sure can't think of one. 

Regardless of reading romantic fiction as being primarily seen as a women's hobby the patriarchal standards that are deeply ingrained into the way we view women's bodies and women in romantic relationships, for all gender often causes this erotica to be fundamentally misogynistic anyways. Classic tropes such as the rich man supporting the poor women, male dominance, incredibly co-dependant females and the concept of a women not being 'whole' without a man are constantly being jammed into our heads. Even when the author is female. Often we don't even recognise how misogynistic our romantic fantasies are because they have been instilled into us for our entire lives. How are us women meant to enjoy or imagine any experience that isn't in one way or another, shaped for a man. Truthfully, I don't think we ever can. 

Finally, we need to stop thinking that 'adults' books or 'men's' books are better. They are not better they are just different. YA plots and characters can be even more intricate and complicated than those found in non-YA books. The only difference is that they are more fucking digestible. 

In conclusion, men need to stop.

All the love, 

Scar. 

Dreaming of Starry Italian Nights Again | Poem

Dreaming of starry Italian nights again.

How should I stop?

When heads are in elbows and are belly’s stuffed.

I know because even now,

I remember everything.

We both knew then, you more than I.

At that time at least, you more than I.

Well, now you know I knew.

And I suppose you don’t dream at all.

Not as I do, at least not now.

Even then I was dreaming of nights spent.

No, not in the way one would suppose.

In ways beyond that, for pleasures sake.

Less of an action, more of a feeling I would say.

But there was no action.

Is it foolish to try and remember

Why I held back for so many years?

Why I energetically wait for defeat.

Perhaps I needed to grieve us.

Perhaps grief is all I hadn’t felt in us.

Not truly, not deeply.

But to feel grief as so to feel everything,

What a waste!

Not to feel what could have been uncharted.

Is it unnatural

to think of something so long ago so often?

Fanciful, I guess.

After all, I don’t think I’m one to like.

Only to fall madly in love

And perhaps never to stand.

Find Me| Speedy Book Thoughts

"music doesn’t change us that much, nor does great art change us. Instead, it reminds us of who, despite all our claims or denials, we’ve always known we were and are destined to remain"

Hi There,

Following along with my ever-growing obsession with Elio and Oliver, namely the outstanding writing of Andre Aciman I thought I should share some of my thoughts on the sequel to their story.
I tried coming into my first reading with an open mind. I was entirely shattered after the first book ended and needed to take some time to recover emotionally, though I’m not sure I ever really will. I had heard a lot about people who were shocked by the structure of the book and disappointed about the lack of interaction we received between the two characters. Admittedly, beginning the book with Samuels story (Elio’s dad), threw me off a little. Elio is the star I thought, how could I possible get through the first part when all I really wanted was to hear Elio think again! Well, it turns out the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree.

Samuel was brilliant! His relationship with Miranda was insightful, passionate and refreshing though it did feel slightly out of place in a book I thought would be about Olio. I think that Aciman could have written a whole other book as a standalone about those two and I surely would have read it as well. How could any of us not when we are trying to read every last word and hoping that it never ends. This part of the book, which took up a good 35% of it in totality felt like another story, one which wasn’t totally connected to the heart of the novel until the last 11 pages. None the less, it was beautiful. I don’t feel it made me like the story any less, it only enhanced my love for the Perlman family… in a disjointed sort of way.

Moving then to Elio’ perspective, I got to know and love an older Elio who aged as we’d all hoped he would and who’s essence was very much the same. Reading his thoughts felt like visiting an old friend who you haven’t spoken to in a while, but the second you start speaking it feels as though you saw each other just yesterday. I was apprehensive watching him form a meaningful relationship with anyone other than Oliver. Just as Oliver would, half of me just wanted him to be happy after so many years and half of me resented Michel for lessening the changes the two would ever meet again. Just as I gave into the two of them, and gave up resenting Michel, Aciman changed it up again.
It was at this point that I realised, that somehow the first three parts of this story, in an intrinsic and abstract way were setting up the final part of the book. Realising that Elio and Oliver had always been missing each other, that they were never truly whole because they left the part of themselves they were always meant to be somewhere in northern Italy two decades early. Both knew that the other was their only chance at complete happiness and it only took them a lifetime to find each other again.

The part that had me sobbing was finding out that Samuel had named his child after Oliver… I’m not sure if I’ll ever justly recover from reading that. I am far more satisfied with this ending than most people. Sure, we didn’t get any spicy Tuscan villa sex this time, but somehow I liked tracking their winding road to back each other just as much. Undeniably this sure is the perfect fuel for my own romantical fantasies and maybe that’s why I adore it as I do.

Now I can live the rest of my life knowing that Elio and Oliver are together at last in some other fantastical dimension and whenever I feel that love doesn’t exist I know that it can’t be true. As two Jewish lovers are sitting beside the pool somewhere in northern Italy, likely in their billowing shirts and tiny shorts and they are both truly and madly in love with each other, and they always will be.

Before we part ways, here are some of my favourite quotes from this book for you to ponder over:

• "We only want those we can’t have. It’s those we lost or who never knew we existed who leave their mark. The others barely echo
•  “As a French poet once said, some people smoke to put nicotine in their veins, others to put a cloud between them and others.”
• None of us may want to claim to live life in two parallel lanes but all have many lives, one tucked beneath or right alongside the other. Some lives wait their turn because they haven’t been lived at all, while others die before they’ve lived out their time, and some are waiting to be relived because they haven’t been lived enough.
• Death is God’s great blunder, and sunset and dawn are how he blushes for shame and asks our forgiveness each and every day.
• people may be brokenhearted not because they’ve been hurt but because they’ve never found someone who mattered enough to hurt them.”
• “Everything in my life was merely prologue until now, merely delay, merely pastime, merely waste of time until I came to know you.”
• “Love is easy,” I said. “It’s the courage to love and to trust that matters, and not all of us have both.
• I can be alone or with people, with you for instance, but I am always with him.
• Fate works forward, backward, and crisscrosses sideways and couldn’t care less how we scan its purposes with our rickety little befores and afters.”
• Time never casts shadows and memory doesn’t drop ashes.”
• No one ever went bankrupt borrowing someone else’s pleasure. We go bankrupt only when we want no one.
• I can’t even tell what I feel, though feel something I still do,
• all he needed when the time was right was simply to come and find me. “And you did.” “And I did,” he said.

Wonder Amongst the Stars
All the love xx

The Alchemist | Quotes That Will Open Your Third Eye

link

Hi There,

Sometimes I finish a book and I want to write about it for hours because I have so much to think about and to discuss. Other times, I finish a book, I may be a little confused and lacking lethargy but I know that it has somehow made an impact on me. It just wasn't one that I was able to describe in words. Maybe something emotionally abstract.

'The Alchemist' by Paulo Coelho had that effect on me. So without any explanation, any context or even for some of you, a basic understanding of this stories soul, read the below quotes that I marked up during my adventure with the tale. Take a moment to ponder what it says. These are the lines that I stopped at, that I re-read five times and that I knew that I never wanted to forget.

The beauty of words is that no phrase has a universal meaning. Find what they mean to you.

Call Me By Your Name | Speedy Book Thoughts

link

*no spoilers below 
P.S. At least read the quotes at the bottom 

Hi There,

Today I am going to share some of my thoughts on 'Call Me By Your Name" by Andrè Aciman.

Shattered. This book is like an arrow to the heart. Aciman moved me in a way that is blatantly distinguishable from the way any other text has impacted me. I cry in almost every romance novel at one page or another for reasons that can be blamed on my particular solidarity. This time I cried right through, from the first part to the last, and I consistently sobbed for at least the last 50 pages. Though I wasn't crying because it made me feel lonely, it didn't even make me feel too sad in the understandable sense of the word.
The diction was so raw, and so viciously humane that I was literally moved to tears because my brain didn't know how to process what was going on.

If you've ever seen the film you'd understand the nature of the passion between two men. I feel like the film captured it as best a film could do. Though if it was a stage play I feel like a few asides could have done some justice. What the film didn't capture was the way in which Elio talked about Oliver, about his parents, his music, his books and B. (which I discovered to be Crema in Tuscany) .This is what makes the book so transcendent.

The plot is decent, the scenery is quite literally perfect but the speaker is what makes you think so deeply every time you put your book down. About all the things you've read and the places the book has taken you and all the things you continue to read about the world around you. It changes that instant. The amount of wisdom in this book contains is far more than I could begin to understand and far more than my sane mind should rightfully attempt to understand.

The novel was written as a recounting from decades in the future, something the readers didn't quite discover until the final 20% of the book. Upon reflection, the nostalgic tone was something I couldn't quite grapple but made the world of sense once you reached that particular point in the book when Aciman makes it make sense. Twenty or thirty pages into the piece, a hundred or so pages from anything fashioned for direct dejection you start to feel so horribly hollow. Like when you know something's about to go terribly wrong in the middle of an unavoidable conversation.

I don't know how Aciman did this extraordinarily powerful flashback, but I hate to say I am a little jealous of how well it was executed.

On a final note, the impact of having such a glorious piece of literature which is representative of the LBGTQI+ community is so immensely powerful and moving. I couldn't imagine how much further this would touch ones soul if you were searching for a story which normalises something so abundant and gay. In that case, I am not here to convince you to read this book, but if I haven't convinced you by now then I should be quite disconcerted.

I say we are all Elio aren't we? and we all wish we were a bit more Oliver.

Wonder amongst the stars.
All the love xx

MY FAVOURITE QUOTES

if you can’t say “yes,” don’t say “no,” say “later.”

“Is it better to speak or die?”

If youth must canter, then who’ll do the galloping?

you pay for a smile by the shot glass

I began, reluctantly, to steal from the present to pay off debts I knew I’d incur in the future. This, I knew, was as much a crime as closing the shutters on sunny afternoons.

“People who read are hiders. They hide who they are. People who hide don’t always like who they are.”

“Call me by your name and I’ll call you by mine,”

And we’ll want to call it envy, because to call it regret would break our hearts.” 

Nature has cunning ways of finding our weakest spot.

Time makes us sentimental. Perhaps, in the end, it is because of time that we suffer.

The Fiftieth Gate | Speedy Book Thoughts

"Jews do not remember with flowers; their petals wither on a grave as if the corpse is a temporal thing ... Jews remember with stones; impenetrable, mysterious, eternal"

Hi There!

I picked this book up on the recommendation of a teacher who thought that I might enjoy the unique form. As a history buff with a personal, family connection to the tragic events that took place in the 1940's before and beyond, I am equally drawn to and extremely weary of texts on the subject. Becoming depressed or overly-existential is not uncommon for me when I am faced with these recounts. 

The narrative is told from the perspective of Mark Baker a Jewish boy from Melbourne who is delving into his parents past and through historical records, video recordings encapsulating fragments of memory and secondary accounts, aiming to fill gaps in memory of his mother, father and the atrocities they encountered. 

I firstly can commend the synthesis of textual forms in the novel. Almost as a non-fiction novel with a wig and hat on, pretending to be prose fiction. I can appreciate the literary blend, but at times found it difficult to be engaged with the non-fiction side, as I didn't particularly expect to be interpreting Polish records. 

Equally, I enjoyed the direct dialogue from the perspective of the parents. Maybe the easiest part of the book to read. But with little character development, never REALLY seeing into the current lives of the characters, that reader to character bond never really was formed. I did not feel attached to these characters regardless of what I read about their past. Whether or not they were MEANT to be adored, I am unsure. At times the fragmented form was less mysterious and more confusing. 

In short. I would not recommend this book to someone looking for a light read. Rather someone who is looking to endure a labour of love for Jewish history and Australian fiction. I'm glad I got through it, but i will NOT be doing it again

Remember... think colossally and let your brain wonder among the stars
All the love x