如 果 。爱

This must be one of the most beautiful movies I have watched this year, or ever.

The movie deals with themes that have always captured my imagination: memory, history, love. It’s amazing watching the characters navigate these three narrow alleyways, not knowing when their paths will cross or when their lives will overlap. So many questions come to mind during the show: What do we choose to remember from the past? What do we think happened? What really happened? Why do we hold on to memory? As emotions get in the way, the line between memory and history is blurred, and it is in ths space between the two that love / hate / desire / longing / forgetfulness reside.

Perhaps the thought of falling in love with someone can be much more powerful than the actual act of doing so.

Perhaps leaving a relationship is not always the worst thing to do for the other person.

Perhaps letting go at the right moment ensures that only a perfect memory of you remains in the mind of another.

Perhaps…

Love the tentative aspects that this movie explores, and they remind me of a line from a poem by one of my favourite poets, Philip Larkin:

“Our almost-instinct almost true:
What will survive of us is love.”

Perhaps?

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~ by irwin on December 12, 2005.

5 Responses to “如 果 。爱”

  1. Could you post the whole Larkin poem? One line is not enough after reading it.

  2. Hi elaine, the title of the poem is ‘An Arundel Tomb’, go check it out! =) Yes, one line is definitely not enough for this wonderful poem.

  3. I cannot help but post it to share with all who pass by. I read it and the imagery hit me so much I almost meditate.

    An Arundel Tomb by Philip Larkin

    Side by side, their faces blurred,
    The earl and countess lie in stone,
    Their proper habits vaguely shown
    As jointed armour, stiffened pleat,
    And that faint hint of the absurd –
    The little dogs under their feet.

    Such plainness of the pre-baroque
    Hardly involves the eye, until
    It meets his left-hand gauntlet, still
    Clasped empty in the other; and
    One sees, with a sharp tender shock,
    His hand withdrawn, holding her hand.

    They would not think to lie so long.
    Such faithfulness in effigy
    Was just a detail friends would see:
    A sculptor’s sweet commissioned grace
    Thrown off in helping to prolong
    The Latin names around the base.

    They would no guess how early in
    Their supine stationary voyage
    The air would change to soundless damage,
    Turn the old tenantry away;
    How soon succeeding eyes begin
    To look, not read. Rigidly they

    Persisted, linked, through lengths and breadths
    Of time. Snow fell, undated. Light
    Each summer thronged the grass. A bright
    Litter of birdcalls strewed the same
    Bone-littered ground. And up the paths
    The endless altered people came,

    Washing at their identity.
    Now, helpless in the hollow of
    An unarmorial age, a trough
    Of smoke in slow suspended skeins
    Above their scrap of history,
    Only an attitude remains:

    Time has transfigures them into
    Untruth. The stone fidelity
    They hardly meant has come to be
    Their final blazon, and to prove
    Our almost-instinct almost true:
    What will survive of us is love.

  4. Yes, it’s a lovely poem, isn’t it? I had it for a Literature Practical Criticism exam paper in JC, and was struck by the last 2 lines till today! =)

  5. Hmmmm man I don’t quite get it.

    Perhaps letting go at the right moment ensures that only a perfect memory of you remains in the mind of another.

    Hoho! Why run away?

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