"But the real fierceness of desire, the real heat of a passion long continued and withering up the soul of a man, is the craving for identity with the woman that he loves. He desires to see with the same eyes, to touch with the same sense of touch, to hear with the same ears, to lose his identity, to be enveloped, to be supported," Ford M. Ford, The Good Soldier.

 

How amusing, he looks like a total duf.

Fr. Feeney, my current English prof. for 20th Century British & Irish Novels, has us winding down on our path through the Good Soldier; this novel was a total teaser, I thought I was really loving it until the end when the narrator turned out to be a total a**hole. Just as cruddy a character as the lot of them. Once I really get to thinking he is this stand out guy, top shelf, once he is beyond well developed, even though through the plot of other characters, Ford throws you a fastball, a total ducky. Humph. Turns out I forgot that the narrator was a real active human being in the whole plot, and Ford held out 'til the end to cue me in on this development.

I know I am being completely vague, and this is not even a decient review of this book, a fare glimpse or teaser, but I am P.O.'d. So there.
Marvelous quote though, huh? Sexy.

A Farewell To Arms

I have completed my first Hemmingway, though I am not sure it was the perfect choice for a first read - fell rather flat - it was a love story so blah, blah, blah - yes, I am a woman - so yes, I found a soft spot in my limber soul for A Farewell To Arms. My absolute favorite quote, which I fear despite how underdeveloped felt the novel was I will carry with me forever: "What you tell me about in the nights. That is not love. That is only passion and lust. When you love you wish to do things for. You wish to sacrifice for. You wish to serve," Ernest Hemingway.

I reach to my father for the most meaningful, awe-inspiring conversation, a few years ago he, in simpler words, voiced the same thing, "when you are utterly selfless, you become a man." This in its absolute entirety, is my father, and the only love I care to understand. I may now thank Hemingway for at least giving my father's words their dutiful, intentioned, poetic twist.

A Farewell To Arms, in the cinema Sigrid Gurie and Gary Cooper (I know she is not his lover, but a lustful beauty and I adore this photo):

Rip

Adam DeWolfe: a spectacular photographer; came across him today in an aimless search for ocean views. This man's photos are basking beauties.