Thursday, September 27, 2007

I'm in the middle of Middlesex now, this novel written by Jeffrey Eugenide. I won't be able to forget this author's name because Eugenide makes me think of Eugene. Very much the same way I think of insecticide, spermicide. Oops.

Anyways. There is a passage I really like in the book.

"It was a little like Into The Sands, with Claude Barron, which she'd seen a couple of weeks ago. In that picture Claude Barron enlists in the Foreign Legion because Rital Carrol marries another guy. The other guy turns out to be a cheater and drinker, and so Rita Carrol leaves him and travels out to the desert where Claude Barron is fighting the Arabs. By the time Rita Carrol gets there he's in the hospital, wounded, or not a hospital really but just a tent, and she tells him she loves him and Claude Barron says, "I went into the desert to forget about you. But the sand was the colour of your hair. The desert sky was the color of your eyes. There was nowhere I could go that wouldn't be you." And then he dies."

I don't mind watching a film like that. Where for once, the main actor dies. Where there's no fake happily-ever-after which we know doesn't exist in the real world.

writing at 12:51 AM

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