This letter is very troublesome to me because it is so sad. The author describes a special relationship and then tells us that he/she had no interest in maintaining any contact whatsoever. I find this almost unbelievable. Perhaps the writer’s regret at losing Paolo has embellished her memory of their friendship….in retrospect. If so, the regret must be extremely deep and that is always difficult for this reader to accept.
Thank you for reading! It is difficult to accept, yes. Difficult for who writes, as well. There are elements of truth in this story, and elements of fiction. My relationship with that person is reality, and the story went down exactly as described. Then, of course, fiction does the rest.
Thank you so much, Rose! That Montblanc is a piece of reality in this story; I do have it and it's been given to me by that person. Of course, the autofiction parts fill in the rest.
“but I have never, in my entire life, realized the importance of things at the precise moment they were happening. It’s something I’ve always processed afterward, sometimes years later, when they were irremediably gone.” God can I relate to this sentence, almost as if my nervous system isn’t wired to receive the full catastrophe of living in the moment, only later and in bits.
Am I mistaken to detect a mysterious ending in this piece, as if the photograph with the Mont Blanc at the end is “sent from the future” or a harbinger of things yet to come?
Thank you so much, Kimberly! Yes, that has been my real experience as well, and you put it so well here: "almost as if my nervous system isn’t wired to receive the full catastrophe of living in the moment, only later and in bits." And you're right to detect that mystery; I'm glad it comes across somehow.
It embodies the pleasure and sorrow of memories changing, diminishing and augmenting over time. Morocco, Tangiers and Casablanca, Rick's Cafe in particular, hold special memories for me...
Thank you, Troy. My autofiction is, by definition, not 100% real -- sometimes it's 99% fiction. This one, however, is at least 80% real. Paolo was a real person, and I used to work at that firm. And yes, I still have his Montblanc here on my desk. :)
And what more beautiful words than these could I have expected from you, Nathan! Thank you so much, my friend. It is indeed a time when, despite having little time available (yes, even during the holidays lol), the words come out in a way that, in the end, satisfies me. I don’t quite remember, but I think that in one of your recent pieces you mentioned a Montblanc. Am I right, or did I dream it? Well, that’s where I got the inspiration for this story (of which probably 20-25% is fiction, and the rest is true). Thanks again!
Thank you so much, Boustan! Yes, lives lived and relived: this is such a central concept in the way I would like my writing to develop right now. You always highlight the right things, with beautiful words.
This letter is very troublesome to me because it is so sad. The author describes a special relationship and then tells us that he/she had no interest in maintaining any contact whatsoever. I find this almost unbelievable. Perhaps the writer’s regret at losing Paolo has embellished her memory of their friendship….in retrospect. If so, the regret must be extremely deep and that is always difficult for this reader to accept.
Thank you for reading! It is difficult to accept, yes. Difficult for who writes, as well. There are elements of truth in this story, and elements of fiction. My relationship with that person is reality, and the story went down exactly as described. Then, of course, fiction does the rest.
I hope the writer of this letter finally did use that Mont Blanc to write many beautiful things.
It’s a poignant missive, encouraging one to try to appreciate things of value in the moment.
Your writing is so engaging, Silvio - kudos!
Thank you so much, Rose! That Montblanc is a piece of reality in this story; I do have it and it's been given to me by that person. Of course, the autofiction parts fill in the rest.
“but I have never, in my entire life, realized the importance of things at the precise moment they were happening. It’s something I’ve always processed afterward, sometimes years later, when they were irremediably gone.” God can I relate to this sentence, almost as if my nervous system isn’t wired to receive the full catastrophe of living in the moment, only later and in bits.
Am I mistaken to detect a mysterious ending in this piece, as if the photograph with the Mont Blanc at the end is “sent from the future” or a harbinger of things yet to come?
Thank you so much, Kimberly! Yes, that has been my real experience as well, and you put it so well here: "almost as if my nervous system isn’t wired to receive the full catastrophe of living in the moment, only later and in bits." And you're right to detect that mystery; I'm glad it comes across somehow.
It embodies the pleasure and sorrow of memories changing, diminishing and augmenting over time. Morocco, Tangiers and Casablanca, Rick's Cafe in particular, hold special memories for me...
and this evokes them
Thank you so much, Jill, for sharing this. These are magical places! :)
This story gave me chills. Is it real? I reads like it is, but whether or not, it's superb.
Thank you, Troy. My autofiction is, by definition, not 100% real -- sometimes it's 99% fiction. This one, however, is at least 80% real. Paolo was a real person, and I used to work at that firm. And yes, I still have his Montblanc here on my desk. :)
Beautifully done, Silvio. Especially the mysterious book of photos with his home in Tangiers and the pen sitting on the table. Wonderful.
You are very kind. I really appreciate this, Troy! (Boy, I have to catch up with so much of your stuff. Looking forward to asap though)
"Then he leaned in and said quietly, I hope you'll use it to write beautiful things"
Whether truth of fiction, the writer of this post continues to write many beautiful things.
Your writing continues to flow with effortless ease, Silvio, like the ink that flows forth from a magnificent fountain pen.
And what more beautiful words than these could I have expected from you, Nathan! Thank you so much, my friend. It is indeed a time when, despite having little time available (yes, even during the holidays lol), the words come out in a way that, in the end, satisfies me. I don’t quite remember, but I think that in one of your recent pieces you mentioned a Montblanc. Am I right, or did I dream it? Well, that’s where I got the inspiration for this story (of which probably 20-25% is fiction, and the rest is true). Thanks again!
😊
Yes, my most recent featured a fountain pen, though it wasn't specifically named as a Montblanc.
Between the symbolism and exquisite sentences , this is a captivating and mysterious tale, Silvio.
Thank you so much, Kate! Mysterious indeed! (Even to the writer :))
That’s the best way :)
Lives lived and relived ...precious moments like wisps of mist, lie quiet,until they come alive through a loved home, a loved pen, a person...
Your writing brings a mundane subject alive through an unvoiced emotion.
Didn't think I would love it, but I did...long form sentences and all!
Brilliant.
Thank you so much, Boustan! Yes, lives lived and relived: this is such a central concept in the way I would like my writing to develop right now. You always highlight the right things, with beautiful words.
I have a Mont Blanc. They are very special, treasured mementos and superb writing jewellery.
They sure are. Thank you, Karena!