03/11/24

An Illicit Affair of Adolescence – The Lover

   “Everything flows towards the Pacific, no time for anything to sink, all is swept along by the deep and head-long storm of the inner current, suspended on the surface of the river’s strength” (Duras 22)

 

To fully understand what is happening in this novel, one must observe the disturbing content embedded.

The Lover is a story about an illicit affair between a young girl and an older man who just so happens to be Chinese. While on paper, many readers can assume that this entanglement is the worst of the novel. The young girl’s mother is incredibly abusive as well as her older brother is extremely violent and filled with rage.

With that out of the way, The Lover is a good book. I am not justifying these actions, but they serve as somewhat of an autobiographical retelling of this hidden love. The two titular lovers have not just age but race against them. This is what portrays such a complex narrative. The lovers are sharing an interracial relationship, thereby fighting against the prejudices stacked against them. When meeting for the first time at a dinner, there is an underlying tension as her “brother gorge themselves without saying a word to him” (Duras 51). While it is not said the two are in a relationship, the white brothers are still hesitant to this ‘outsider’. The book’s themes are so nuanced that readers can find themselves connecting with taboo characters like the older lover. He is an example of the wealth of narratives in this novel–Duras is so precise to flesh out everyone’s stories, because this is her authentic life.

Hence, the novel begins as Marguerite’s leap into a sexual awakening. It is another coming-of-age story except with a focus on love and desire. In the end, her and her lover don’t end up together–the latter’s father forbidding the son from marrying a white girl. It becomes a fleeting memory that has ached in Duras’s chest for a long time.

Between her sexual revelation, Duras becomes aged to the world–not in the sense of no longer being a virgin but in finally witnessing the true world. She is not afraid to release her true experiences, no matter how risqué. This novel serves as a woman trying to recollect her life–the sudden jumps between times indicate an authentic portrayal of memory.

My review comes up short because the book was so…complex.

Good books can have you writing long passages, carefully analyzing every detail, or it can have you sitting on the floor, trying to understand the emotional turmoil the book carried you along for.

I would say this book broke me, but that is a very dramatic statement.

 

“I see the war as I see my childhood. I see wartime in the reign of my elder brother as one. Partly, no doubt, because it was during the war that my younger brother died: his heart, as I’ve said, had given out, given up. As for my elder brother, I don’t think I ever saw him during the war. By that time it didn’t matter to me whether he was alive or dead. I see the war as like him, spreading everywhere, breaking in everywhere, stealing, imprisoning, always there, merged and mingled with everything, present in the body, in the mind, awake and asleep, all the time, a prey to the intoxicating passion of occupying that delightful territory, a child’s body, the body of those less strong, of conquered peoples. Because evil is there, at the gates, against the skin” (Duras 62-63)

 

Discussion Question

By titling the book The Lover, what is Duras really trying to convey? (Hint, it’s not about love)

How is the archetype of a “Lover” used to redefine Duras’s experiences? Can we argue that she is acting in opposition to this role? Or is she perhaps commenting on those loves that are not romantic per say?

 

Bonus

This book is severely uncomfortable in its themes, so please enjoy my message to society (the following is a joke)

Why must we, as a distinguished society, cast a shadow on fedoras? I prominently wore fedoras as a child and looked adorable. Case in point, here is proof from my father’s facebook – Gabby

 

02/27/24

The Grieving Period – How “The Time of the Doves” Presents Melancholy

“And I didn’t know if I was sleeping or awake but I saw the doves. I saw them like before. Everything was the same: the dovecote painted dark blue, the nests full of straw, the roof with the wires getting rusty because I couldn’t hang the clothes up, the trapdoor, the procession of doves marching through the apartment taking little steps from the back porch to the balcony…Everything was the same, but it was pretty” (173-174)

To fully delve into this book, one must recognize the symbolism of doves. Doves act as a major metaphor throughout the novel. Some of the meanings of this symbol include peace and love. The appearance and disappearance of such birds provide a clue as to where the narratives are going

If one is to delve deeper into these imageries, you would find references to pigeons. When saying Colometa, “pigeon girl” is expressed in English. The external proof to this comes from an article entitled”Life in Barcelona” by Micheal Eaude. Eaude presents the real world connection to the novel with Plaça del Diamant– a real life place and the original name of the book. The story is reflective of the Spanish Civil War, seemingly entangled with our real narratives. In Barcelona, there is a statue that so similar to Nataila’s story. Sitting in this square is “a low, black sculpture of a naked woman screaming­—in anguish or perhaps liberation. She is surrounded by pigeons” (Eaude).

We can view this statue as a testament to feelings of entrapment; both within the confides of the war and her marriage with Quimet. There is a sense of empowerment in this novel; “history is seen through the eyes of this working-class woman with her feet on the ground” (Eaude). Continuing on with our symbol of entrapment, Nataila begins the novel pulled away by her now ex-fiancé and into an abusive relationship with Quimet. She reminded me of The Shrouded Woman, who too lived her life full of pain. Nataila seems to be bound to the walls of her and Quimet’s home; she becomes a prisoner in her own home. When tasked with housework, Nataila cannot help but think that “Maria probably gets them done cleaner” (46), a woman that Quimet so often whispers. After their wedding and when it was time to consummate the marriage, Nataila cannot help but recall things she heard as a child that “[…] women die ripped open [and] it begins when they get married” (50). Even within these early moments, Nataila is trapped into this marriage and in turn cannot fly away.

The Doves in the book are embodiments are the world around them especially Nataila. When the doves are introduced they live in a dovecote on the roof. The first dove is injured and after Nataila nurses it Quimet proposes they keep it. The first dove lives in “a cage like a mansion […]” (65). It is within these subtle motifs that you can recognize the feelings of entrapment both with the dove and Nataila. Eventually when more doves arrive the dovecote gets bigger until Quimet insists that the doves should be able to visit their home. This is when the narratives start to blend together. The doves were first trapped in a sense and now are able to be apart of the family; you can release doves, but Nataila cannot be released. Her frustration with the doves is understandable as all she can sense is doves; it is overwhelming in a time of war. We can see the metaphor of doves as peace and love during this war being nothing but a burden to Nataila. They represent something that she could not get. When the doves all leave or die it is when the war is at its peak; Nataila and the kids are left alone hungry, wishing for a moment of peace or love.

The Time of Doves presents a tragedy that lies within hopelessness. It serves as an authentic telling of war from the perspective of the citizens. It is not afraid to have the characters feel and mourn. One more moment I want to draw attention to is this quote: “And one night when I was lying with Antoni on one side and Rita on the other, with their ribs sticking out and their bodies all lined with bright blue veins, I decided to kill them” (145). This moment is heartbreaking–Nataila had just found on Quimet was dead and her family was dying. In times of war, citizens suffer under the lack of supplies and bloodshed. Perhaps other readers viewed this as cruel but I viewed it as love. Nataila wanted to keep her children safe, but it was no longer an option; either she could let them suffer or ensure they could rest. It’s a truly devastating moment in a mother’s perspective; how can you protect your children during a war? This moment completely captures Nataila as a character–despite going through all this abuse with Quimet, she will always have love for her children. She wanted to fly away, be free of her cage.

This post is already very long so I will add one more thing. Antoni was everything the family needed. I’m not a fan of men swooping in and saving the day, but in this case, Antoni lived as a lonely shop-owner without any children and Nataila was a hard-working mother. He wasn’t a knight in shining armour, but rather just a human who wished to help her for his emptiness could become whole. Antoni is the best love for Nataila hands down.

As The Time of The Doves comes to an end, the quote I first started with brings the narrative to a conclusion. After everything that happened, she can see peace. The doves have come back as an omen, that everything will be okay. It is the fleetness of grief: Nataila can start to heal even if her world is still a bit blue. The Time of The Doves can fly away with melancholy.

 

Discussion Question:

Doves are a recurrent theme in this book. I have personally noted what I believe is what they are represented for, but what does everyone else think? What do you believe the doves are symbolic of? Would love to hear everyone’s thoughts 🙂

 

Works Cited

Eaude, Michael. “Life in Barcelona.” Metropolitan Barcelona, April 2013 https://www.barcelona-metropolitan.com/features/in-diamond-square-barcelona-books/