Tag Archives: memories

01/30/24

The Shrouded Woman – no ragrets?

‘The Shrouded Woman’ by María Luisa Bombal.

There is a theory that says your brain is still active for 7 minutes after you die. I think about it a lot, I was reminded of it reading this novel as well. During that seven minutes, I like to think every person would just think back on their lives and evaluate the ups and downs. As much as the book is a work of fiction with a dead woman literally seeing her surroundings and recounting her life, none of us would ever know what really happens after death. Perhaps we drown into eternal darkness, or we turn into a ghost and be able to see everything in third perspective, or perhaps we pass the bridge between life and death like the book described.

“Oh! to cross that bridge and to stretch out full length on the snow on the other side, so that seconds, minutes, hours, days and years of silence might fall and fall on her face, on her limbs, on her tired heart!”

I guess this is why reading fiction about death, and hence life is interesting, because we have not yet solved the great enigma that is death, because we can let our minds wander with creativity when writing about it! Anyways, this novel is, of the three books we have read so far, my favorite, partly because it was easier to read with shorter sentences, or because it was from a woman’s perspective which I could relate with while reading it. Ana Maria, on her death bed, starts reminiscing about her life filled with pain, regrets, jealousy as well as love (painfully so). It is implied that her life was not the greatest to look back on, especially with the regretful decisions of staying with the loathsome husband Antonio, or less significant ones like not forgiving a once dear friend Sofia after her betrayal.  It makes me wonder how much of our lives would we regret after dying, after not being able to fix anything. Ana Maria seems to be excited for the death awaiting her, for her ‘second’ death after a life lived like the dead. A ‘death of the dead’. Her accepting her death without protests, eager to finally rest her tired mind in peace seemed sad yet beautiful to me – it was a bittersweet ending. What was more tragic to me was the reality of women stuck in unhappy marriages, not knowing whether her feelings are coming from love or hatred. The women in the novel were painted with such negative undertones in my opinion; of jealousy, betrayal, and pain. Also, one part that felt odd and a bit funny was how Maria Griselda was so gorgeous that it brought suffering wherever she was, to herself and to others. It is ironic to think that this beauty would bring such sorrow.

I read the book from the PDF that was on the website, which was a scanned version of the book already read and annotated. It was really fun to read the little notes with the texts, and some of them even helped me understand parts where I had challenges comprehending.

Another thing I want to mention is I was listening to random movie soundtracks while reading the ending, and a weird coincidence happened! Right during the priest’s speech of how Ana Maria would think heaven is like the Garden of Eden as a child, this soundtrack of the movie Minari, ‘Garden of Eden’ by Emile Mosseri was playing in the background!

My question is: If you had a chance to review your life on your death bed, would you think more about the regrets or the joyful moments?

01/16/24

On ‘Combray’

Swann’s Way by Marcel Proust.

The first chapter of the book, ‘Combray’, felt like those long dreams that seem to never end, especially with the way it was written. The never-ending, lengthy sentences felt difficult to read but I liked that aspect because it felt like it was spoken by a person hit with a wave of nostalgia, as if they were trying to describe their memories as detailed as possible. With the way Proust described the intricacies of the protagonist’s, or perhaps his, childhood bedroom with beautiful metaphors, it helped me imagine the atmosphere and travel down the memory lane with him.

Personally, the part that was hardest to read started with Swann coming in as a guest. For some reason, my mind kept wandering, daydreams kept rushing in and it took a long time for me to go through that part. Maybe it was the many mentions of important french figures during the dinner conversations. Even when the notes explained who they were, I still felt a bit in the dark not knowing much about the french history or politics in the 1800s(?). But after that, I found the descriptions of how the protagonist longed for his mother’s kisses very interesting. As much as I want to say it felt like the boy had some sort of Oedipus complex, I understand the childish longing of their parent’s affection and warmth. It felt like the boy was just an anxious child with a big attachment to his mother. However, the comparison of his relationship with his mom with other people in romantic relationships felt the weirdest for me.

Speaking of comparisons, I really liked the various uses of metaphors the author used, almost in every sentence. The author had a unique, artistic way with words; despite their complexity, the descriptions were written beautifully. I feel like it complemented the dream-like feeling of the whole chapter, like the protagonist was trying to remember a childhood memory in between his sleep. And of course, we cannot forget the remarkable part of the madeleine dipped in tea. I think we all have something that could give us that feeling of immense happiness related to a forgotten memory, may it be a certain smell or taste. As the author said,

“But, when nothing subsists of an old past, after the death of people, after the destruction of things, alone, frailer but more enduring, more immaterial, more persistent, more faithful, smell and taste still remain for a long time, like souls, remembering, waiting, hoping, upon the ruins of all the rest, bearing without giving way, on their almost impalpable droplet, the immense edifice of memory.”

I am someone who spends more time looking back at the past, thinking about my memories and feeling nostalgic than I live in the present, so I feel like I really resonated with the author in that part. Something about eating something from your childhood or that sudden familiar scent that you cannot describe but swear was related to some part of your life, is just so dear yet painful to me, very bittersweet. I liked when the protagonist tried to eat more from it to get the same feeling of euphoria but couldn’t, it’s like forgetting more and more about your memories and how their ‘freshness’ is lost every time we think about it.

My question is: Regarding the madeleine dipped in tea; have you ever had an instance like this, when a seemingly random scent or taste had brought you sudden waves of nostalgia or happiness?