March 28, 2011

We're reading The Blind Assassin in Lit and the embedded narrative is a girl and a guy and the story he tells her whenever they meet up, secretly, in slummy apartments or back rooms or park benches. They make verbal jabs at each other and play stupid mind games and before and sometimes after they've made love he tells her this story.

It's about other dimensions and aliens and sci-fi stuff but actually it's about the couple and the secret message the guy spends the whole novel -basically their whole time together- trying to tell her, dressed up with courtiers and sacrifice.

See, he's in love with her and wants to run away with her to anywhere but where they are so they can actually be together, but she doesn't seem to get it, either on purpose or because she's too busy trying to play the role she thinks she's supposed to be playing. He spends all this time telling her this story that's interesting and insightful but what he should really be saying, the whole time, is

IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou

but he doesn't. Maybe he can't.

It makes me sad and it makes me wonder why

and I think about how many people go through their lives being too afraid to tell the people that they love that they love 'em

until it's too late. until they can't.

for whatever reason

and I wonder what about Love with a Capital L scares people so much

maybe we love the wrong people

maybe we don't love ourselves enough

maybe we're just not programmed to do it

maybe it's all just made up

maybe love is actually just a dressed-up story

but I'd rather not think that.