August 19, 2001
I’ve always liked that bit near the start of “The Sheltering Sky:”
“Port said: ‘I had a strange dream yesterday. I’ve been trying to remember it, and just this minute I did.’
‘No!’ cried Kit with force. ‘Dreams are so dull! Please!’
‘You don’t want to hear it!’ he laughed. ‘But I’m going to tell you anyway.’ The last was said with a certain ferocity which on the surface appeared feigned, but as Kit looked at him she felt that on the contrary he actually was dissimulating the violence he felt. She did not say the withering things that were on the tip of her tongue.
‘I’ll be quick about it,’ he smiled. ‘I know you’re doing me a favor by listening, but I can’t remember it just thinking about it...’
Kit closed her eyes unhappily.
‘What’s the matter?’ he demanded.
‘I think it’s extremely thoughtless and egotistical of you to insist this way when you know how boring it is for us.’”
The scene ends in tears, Kit’s. I’ve always been on Kit’s side in this matter. Nevertheless, I liked this one that I had last night, and it’s far from the grand, sad premonition of Port’s dream about starting life over again but not being able to. Mine was just a sex/guilt/bureaucracy dream.
I am leaving my sweet but dull cousin off at JFK. I have brought a huge duffel bag even though I am going nowhere. There’s a smattering of Nelsons in the departure lounge. My cousin leaves. A tall handsome Australian approaches, dressed in motorcycle gear but not the smelly leather of Mad Max. He is wearing the latest Balenciaga for fall, a sort of recherché, lightweight version of the real thing. We start to talk and somebody steals my bag. The loss is ameliorated by the opportunity to get on the back of Mod Max’s bike. We disappear for a few days. Eventually he has to leave as all sexual knights do, the quest is ongoing. Now I am concerned about my bag. Apart from the $500 cash, it contained all of my most precious belongings. I go to the lost property people, an army of faceless, green-uniformed women. Yes they have my bag. Some stuff may be gone but most appears to be still there. No I can’t have it. I can look at it but I can never retrieve it. I threaten them with the law. But this is the law.
i really liked that movie, is that the one with the frog scene in the begining too??
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I’ve always liked that bit near the start of “The Sheltering Sky:”
“Port said: ‘I had a strange dream yesterday. I’ve been trying to remember it, and just this minute I did.’
‘No!’ cried Kit with force. ‘Dreams are so dull! Please!’
‘You don’t want to hear it!’ he laughed. ‘But I’m going to tell you anyway.’ The last was said with a certain ferocity which on the surface appeared feigned, but as Kit looked at him she felt that on the contrary he actually was dissimulating the violence he felt. She did not say the withering things that were on the tip of her tongue.
‘I’ll be quick about it,’ he smiled. ‘I know you’re doing me a favor by listening, but I can’t remember it just thinking about it...’
Kit closed her eyes unhappily.
‘What’s the matter?’ he demanded.
‘I think it’s extremely thoughtless and egotistical of you to insist this way when you know how boring it is for us.’”
The scene ends in tears, Kit’s. I’ve always been on Kit’s side in this matter. Nevertheless, I liked this one that I had last night, and it’s far from the grand, sad premonition of Port’s dream about starting life over again but not being able to. Mine was just a sex/guilt/bureaucracy dream.
I am leaving my sweet but dull cousin off at JFK. I have brought a huge duffel bag even though I am going nowhere. There’s a smattering of Nelsons in the departure lounge. My cousin leaves. A tall handsome Australian approaches, dressed in motorcycle gear but not the smelly leather of Mad Max. He is wearing the latest Balenciaga for fall, a sort of recherché, lightweight version of the real thing. We start to talk and somebody steals my bag. The loss is ameliorated by the opportunity to get on the back of Mod Max’s bike. We disappear for a few days. Eventually he has to leave as all sexual knights do, the quest is ongoing. Now I am concerned about my bag. Apart from the $500 cash, it contained all of my most precious belongings. I go to the lost property people, an army of faceless, green-uniformed women. Yes they have my bag. Some stuff may be gone but most appears to be still there. No I can’t have it. I can look at it but I can never retrieve it. I threaten them with the law. But this is the law.
- rachael 8-19-2001 4:54 pm
i really liked that movie, is that the one with the frog scene in the begining too??
- Skinny 8-20-2001 12:00 pm [add a comment]