This has the subtle feeling of a lament, which I so love.
"And us, what were we?" I love this line and how it is central to this piece.
I also love how this unsent letter is nearly, perhaps, sent.
Another favourite line (plus also the notion of the telephones later on, which is just brilliant):
"But Sundays, especially in the summer, especially in late afternoon, if you’re alone, open a portal in time. All you have to do is slip into it, and things and names that lie dormant in your memory re-emerge intact."
Thank you so much, Nathan! Indeed, it is a sort of lament, born out of the frustration that an entire period of life cannot be properly remembered, and yet it feels consequential to a series of future circumstances. I love how you noticed the sent/unsent character of this letter, which is left open and unaddressed, like many of the things I write about. This piece was inspired by Modiano's novel "The Black Notebook" (I added a footnote about this). If you don't know Modiano yet, I warmly recommend him to you. I'm sure you'd appreciate his work. Specifically, that passage about Sundays was something I read in the novel and then slightly readapted. I'm so glad you liked this one, my friend.
I haven't read any Modiano – something to remedy – but a hint of magic is certainly tangible in these letters of yours.
"The phone -- a fixed, rotary phone -- would know immediately, the instant you brought the receiver to your ear. It would be like entering a time machine." The idea of listening to conversations past, forgotten, is indeed like a time machine.
Every time I read a new entry, I am reminded of so many times in my youth; some good, others not so much but it’s never a negative feeling; always comforting in sone way. Glad I am playing catch up.
Absolutely, a huge "hint" of Modiano's style. And Borges' ... And I also think of "The Red Notebook" from Auster. I just love your writing, Silvio! It makes my mind lift.
PS I need to read more Modiano! What are your faves?
Thank you so much, Kate! You know, before he unexpectedly won the Nobel Prize in Literature in 2014, Modiano was virtually unknown outside of France. Some of his best novels date back to the late sixties and early seventies. I myself was unaware of his existence until a few years ago. But I happily caught up and read everything by him. Because he's such a favorite of mine, it's hard for me to recommend just one novel. I can tell you where I started myself: my first was "Suspended Sentences" (a collection of three stories -- a little like Paul Auster's New York Trilogy). If you haven't read it, I'd start there. Then, the one that inspired this piece, "The Black Notebook". Also, "La Place de l'Étoile", "Missing Person", "Sundays in August", and "The Café of Lost Youth" are all excellent. When you read him, you get the feeling that you've been reading one long book. This is, in fact, what he himself says in an interview: that he's been writing the same book since the very beginning. I'm open to chatting about this if and when you want. :)
Very interesting; I would love to chat about it :)
We are off to Paris a few days for the Olympics so I’ll look for those at my fave shop. I really want to get back to reading in more French anyway and started with a few from Annie Ernaux earlier in the year. (She’s so great! An auto fiction master) It will take me a little while to get to these but as soon as I do, I’ll let you know. Thanks!
Thank you so much, Van! Interesting comment about the magic of technology used by people, I tend to agree with you here. And I'm glad the mystery gets across. I really appreciate your thoughts. :)
Gorgeous.
This has the subtle feeling of a lament, which I so love.
"And us, what were we?" I love this line and how it is central to this piece.
I also love how this unsent letter is nearly, perhaps, sent.
Another favourite line (plus also the notion of the telephones later on, which is just brilliant):
"But Sundays, especially in the summer, especially in late afternoon, if you’re alone, open a portal in time. All you have to do is slip into it, and things and names that lie dormant in your memory re-emerge intact."
Thank you so much, Nathan! Indeed, it is a sort of lament, born out of the frustration that an entire period of life cannot be properly remembered, and yet it feels consequential to a series of future circumstances. I love how you noticed the sent/unsent character of this letter, which is left open and unaddressed, like many of the things I write about. This piece was inspired by Modiano's novel "The Black Notebook" (I added a footnote about this). If you don't know Modiano yet, I warmly recommend him to you. I'm sure you'd appreciate his work. Specifically, that passage about Sundays was something I read in the novel and then slightly readapted. I'm so glad you liked this one, my friend.
Thanks for the footnote, appreciate that. Alas, I haven't read any Modiano, but it sounds like I should be rectifying that :D
I haven't read any Modiano – something to remedy – but a hint of magic is certainly tangible in these letters of yours.
"The phone -- a fixed, rotary phone -- would know immediately, the instant you brought the receiver to your ear. It would be like entering a time machine." The idea of listening to conversations past, forgotten, is indeed like a time machine.
Wonderful writing, Silvio.
Thank you so much, Alexander! Modiano is very peculiar; I'm (proudly) in the camp of those who love his writing. :)
Every time I read a new entry, I am reminded of so many times in my youth; some good, others not so much but it’s never a negative feeling; always comforting in sone way. Glad I am playing catch up.
Thank you, Maria, for reading and sharing this!
Absolutely, a huge "hint" of Modiano's style. And Borges' ... And I also think of "The Red Notebook" from Auster. I just love your writing, Silvio! It makes my mind lift.
PS I need to read more Modiano! What are your faves?
Thank you so much, Kate! You know, before he unexpectedly won the Nobel Prize in Literature in 2014, Modiano was virtually unknown outside of France. Some of his best novels date back to the late sixties and early seventies. I myself was unaware of his existence until a few years ago. But I happily caught up and read everything by him. Because he's such a favorite of mine, it's hard for me to recommend just one novel. I can tell you where I started myself: my first was "Suspended Sentences" (a collection of three stories -- a little like Paul Auster's New York Trilogy). If you haven't read it, I'd start there. Then, the one that inspired this piece, "The Black Notebook". Also, "La Place de l'Étoile", "Missing Person", "Sundays in August", and "The Café of Lost Youth" are all excellent. When you read him, you get the feeling that you've been reading one long book. This is, in fact, what he himself says in an interview: that he's been writing the same book since the very beginning. I'm open to chatting about this if and when you want. :)
Very interesting; I would love to chat about it :)
We are off to Paris a few days for the Olympics so I’ll look for those at my fave shop. I really want to get back to reading in more French anyway and started with a few from Annie Ernaux earlier in the year. (She’s so great! An auto fiction master) It will take me a little while to get to these but as soon as I do, I’ll let you know. Thanks!
Love Annie Ernaux. Another absolute master! Enjoy Paris and les jeux!
Beautiful letter, beautiful messages & memories. The connection is always there.
Thank you, Tom! Glad it comes through.
oh these beautiful letters of yours
Thank you, Bea!
Thank you so much, Van! Interesting comment about the magic of technology used by people, I tend to agree with you here. And I'm glad the mystery gets across. I really appreciate your thoughts. :)