Friday, April 25, 2008


Stefan Zweig's "Beware of Pity"

I have just read "Beware of Pity," a full length novel of Stefan Zweig, an Austrian of Jewish descent, who became one of Germany's famous writers. The novel explores the disastrous consequences of sentimental and insincere pity. The setting is pre-World War I, and the main protagonist, Lt. Anton Hofmiller, a handsome young cavalry officer, is posted in a provincial Hungarian town. Bored with provincial life, he is fortunate to be invited to a soiree held in the mansion of the town's richest man. Hofmiller enjoys himself immensely in Herr Kekesfalva's party, but in his desire to show his gratefulness, he commits the ultimate social blunder: inviting the host's crippled daughter Edith for a dance. To correct his error, he befriends Edith but his shallow sympathy for her, arouses hopes for a romantic relationship. Hofmiller does nothing to dispel these false hopes, and Edith's disappointment leads her to suicide.


To be quite frank, the first parts of the novel were a bit of a drag, but its plot catches on and compels you to read it throughout. In my honest opinion, though Hofmiller did not necessarily develop a romantic attachment to Edith, he did feel a certain closeness to her. Yet, in some respects, I felt that it was Edith's fault--she read too much from Hofmiller's closeness and misinterpreted the situation. It is easy to assume that because of her illness, Edith was desperate to fall in love and experience its joys. Desperation to gain what is unattainable often leads us to do things that would ultimately lead to our own tragical unraveling.
Poema
No recuerdo el gusto del pan.
Mi boca no riega más para sus bocados suaves y sabrosos.
Su dulzor ha disuelto, embotado e insípido
árido como desierto en alto mediodía.
Justo como su amor para mí.
Poema 2
el poema que no revela ninguna verdad a mí,
va y se mueve por favor lejos.
Déjeme en paz, déjeme gozan de mi soledad.
Usted nunca volverá.
Nunca voluntad usted ve los rasgones que tengo vertiente.
Deje a muertos, entierre a sus muertos.

Thursday, April 24, 2008


Blessed is the man who does not walk in the way of the wicked...

Wednesday, April 23, 2008


By The Sea (Fate)

Where is Fate leading me...

Tuesday, April 22, 2008



Across the Universe

I'm a real sucker for romantic movies--from the usual chick flicks and even, musicals. My attention span for artsy flicks is just so minimal. Well, I decided to watch this movie "Across the Universe" by Julie Taymor (of Frida acclaim) and what's my two cents on it? The plot was a major let down--boy from another country meets a girl who recently lost fiancee in Vietnam, boy and girl fall in love in the hippie 60s, boy and girl clash and separate because of politics (or should I say political apathy on the part of the boy), boy and girl realize they were made for each other and marry. The End. But though the story was typical, the Beatles music saved it from going down the drain entirely--magnificent renditions. I loved Jude singing "I Saw A Face" and "Strawberry Fields"; Lucy singing "If I Fell in Love With You"; and Prudence's " I Want to Hold Your Hand."

I think I'm going bonkers over this movie because of the music--Oh well, what the heck.

Poppaea Sabina

In the past few months, for no apparent reason, I have been captivated by the image and story of the Roman empress, Poppaea Sabina. What led me to this strange preoccupation? Well, I was reading about the life of the Emperor Nero by Tacitus and Suetonius, and listening to one of Monteverdi's operas, L'incoronazione di Poppaea, a romanticized version of how Poppaea schemed against Nero's first wife Octavia to gain the crown. The historian Tacitus reviled her as an ambitious and ruthless woman, marrying Otho to get close to Nero and become his paramour. Further, he says that Poppaea convinced Nero to murder his own mother, Agrippina the Younger, because she opposed their adulterous relationship. Tacitus also claimed that, since she was pregnant, Poppaea enticed Nero to divorce his barren wife Octavia and then arranged for her murder. But in turn, Poppaea was herself murdered by the mad emperor, who kicked her in the belly causing a miscarriage and ultimately her demise. Nero was repentant of his actions, and ordered that Poppaea be deified through the title “Augusta.”

The story of the Julio-Claudian dynasty is rife with stories rivaling that of the Greek tragedies. Maybe someday, I should try to mine these histories for a good yarn to retell as fiction.
Poema 3

La Noche ha venido a nos otros
vistió en su esplendor púrpura que arrastraba una correa
plateada de estrellas.
solitario, como una mujer privada del amor, disminuyendo y marchitada.
ATONEMENT

With the traffic that congested the whole of Metro Manila's streets last Tuesday due to the rush of Holy Week holidays, I decided to wait out the horrendous snarl of blaring horns by watching the movie Atonement. To be quite frank, I was never a fan of Ian McEwan's novels (because I felt that it was a bit overwrought--and I have little patience with reading so many converging plot twists), so I was prepared to sit through one of those long British dramas (and as I've heard that this book was once said to be unfilmable) and slash myself dead for convincing myself because of the advertising blurbs that it was one of the best films of the year and with all of the Oscar and BAFTA buzz.

But surprisingly, I truly enjoyed watching the period piece--notably the surprising twists and turns of the plot. Though, I must say that Keira Knightley was somewhat wooden--unless that's how the British uppercrust really react to tragical romance situations. James McAvoy is again at his acting magnificence--as well as his heartthrob best (no wonder women swoon for him even if he dons the costume of a faun.) I give the film seven stars...(Okay, okay...I'm no cineaste or film critic, please forgive this bumbling movie goer.)
Thoughts

I once read in a book somewhere that the greatest journey that any human being can ever take is a journey to find one's self. Hasn't that been the proverbial and eternal question besieging the human consciousness: Who am I? Why am I here? What am I here for? Where am I now? How am I to live? Each day offers a hint for the answer, however, we miss out and tend to be blind to these resolutions. Maybe because, these answers are too painful for us to bear and accept, or too far-fetched to consider.

Somehow, the human being was built to be contumacious--we defy the powers of a higher being directing our lives--giving out evident answers to who we are. At 32, I have grown tired of struggling, of defying the powers-that-be. I have learned to accept what God decides for me. He knows far better of the things and opportunities I need.
I may make plans, but eventually it's God who would direct my steps...even if it goes ever so slowly.