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[Pdf] L'Amant Author Marguerite Duras



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  1. says: Marguerite Duras Ï 2 Review [Pdf] L'Amant Author Marguerite Duras

    Review à PDF, DOC, TXT, eBook or Kindle ePUB free Ï Marguerite Duras Marguerite Duras Ï 2 Review Read & download L'Amant Author Marguerite Duras AWARDED THE 1984 PRIX GONCOURT“The story of my life doesn’t exist Does not exist There’s never any centre to it No path no line There are great spaces where you pretend there used to be someone but it’s not true there was no one” The young Marguerite DurasShe has pretty hair copper hair that spools down her back in waves of alluring movement People always comment on how beautiful her hair is which she interprets to mean that th

  2. says: [Pdf] L'Amant Author Marguerite Duras

    [Pdf] L'Amant Author Marguerite Duras I opened the first page of Marguerite Duras’ The Lover and there she was the girl with no name with all her ancient reminiscences I heard her voice as if it were inside my head Very early in my life it was too late It was already too late when I was eighteen How did you get there my friend? Or should I call you my sister since from the beginning I discovered we shared anguishes and most certainly a great multitude of passions

  3. says: [Pdf] L'Amant Author Marguerite Duras Marguerite Duras Ï 2 Review Read & download L'Amant Author Marguerite Duras

    [Pdf] L'Amant Author Marguerite Duras And the time comes when we’ve to make peace with our past to let go of moments we cherished dearly or of those which brought torment endless the love we lived or the one we denied emphatically the people we admired foolishly and the ones we’d to abandon things fall apart and what is left are the crumbled spikes we call memories And time

  4. says: Read & download L'Amant Author Marguerite Duras [Pdf] L'Amant Author Marguerite Duras Marguerite Duras Ï 2 Review

    [Pdf] L'Amant Author Marguerite Duras Who is “L’amant”? The characters in this story are nameless A puzzle of personal pronouns draws an anonymous canvas that perspires with alienation and the dense humidity of a foreign land that mourns the loss of youth and innocence that invokes the image of photographs never taken the sound of words never uttered and the mirage of a fut

  5. says: [Pdf] L'Amant Author Marguerite Duras

    [Pdf] L'Amant Author Marguerite Duras Marguerite Duras Ï 2 Review Read & download L'Amant Author Marguerite Duras i found myself utterly muted by this book which is problematic because the book club meets this friday and they ar

  6. says: [Pdf] L'Amant Author Marguerite Duras

    [Pdf] L'Amant Author Marguerite Duras Marguerite Duras Ï 2 Review 252 ‎L'Amant‬ The Lover The Lover #1 Marguerite DurasThe Lover is an autobiographical novel by Marguerite Duras published in 1984 It has been translated to 43 languages and was awarded the 1984 Prix Goncourt It was adapted to film in 1992 as The Lover Set against the backdrop of French colonial Vietnam The Lover reveals the intimacies and intricacies of a clandestine romance between a pubescent girl from a financially strapped French fa

  7. says: Read & download L'Amant Author Marguerite Duras Marguerite Duras Ï 2 Review Review à PDF, DOC, TXT, eBook or Kindle ePUB free Ï Marguerite Duras

    Read & download L'Amant Author Marguerite Duras Marguerite Duras Ï 2 Review [Pdf] L'Amant Author Marguerite Duras A world away from the intelligence insulting and glorified trash of E L James Marguerite Duras has written a sparse minimal and painfully sad erotic love story that never gets drawn into the realms of romantic fantasyAnd to deeply appreciate 'The Lover' it needs to be looked at from the perspective of Duras herself Pen was put to paper when she was 70 it's predominantly all about looking back on memories pas

  8. says: [Pdf] L'Amant Author Marguerite Duras

    Marguerite Duras Ï 2 Review Review à PDF, DOC, TXT, eBook or Kindle ePUB free Ï Marguerite Duras [Pdf] L'Amant Author Marguerite Duras My full review as well as my other thoughts on reading can be found on my blogAn autobiographical story about an affair between a young French girl and a Chinese man set near Saigon The Lover wavers between repression and indulgence The tone is detached the description spare the narrative fragmented; in spite of the the cool aloofness of Duras's prose though the novel is incredibly sensual Each image glints a

  9. says: [Pdf] L'Amant Author Marguerite Duras

    [Pdf] L'Amant Author Marguerite Duras Marguerite Duras Ï 2 Review Read & download L'Amant Author Marguerite Duras “ Very early in my life it was too late”and“ Death came before the end of his story When he was still alive it had already happe

  10. says: [Pdf] L'Amant Author Marguerite Duras

    [Pdf] L'Amant Author Marguerite Duras Read & download L'Amant Author Marguerite Duras DesireThe first time ever I saw your face was on the ferryI had my head buried in a copy of the South China Morning Post My

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Tures of a young womanYes The tale has been told countless times before But never like thisNever the vessel set sail in the Mekong River amidst deafening heat chirping jungles and melting sky annihilatating all colorNever the salty tears drowned the sob in torrents of silence and immobility while Chopin s notes tinted the breath of the wind onboardNever the throbbing heartbreak was replaced by incandescent prose that palpitated to the rhythm of the distant voice of ChinaNever the fate of two lovers who never spoke to ach other would be sealed with only two words I read Marguerite Duras novella in Catalan translated from the French by Marta Pessarrodona A world away from the intelligence insulting and glorified trash of E L James Marguerite Duras has written a sparse minimal and painfully sad rotic love story that never gets drawn into the realms of romantic fantasyAnd to deeply appreciate The Lover it needs to be looked at from the perspective of Duras herself Pen was put to paper when she was 70 it s predominantly all about looking back on memories past and I say it s a painful read painful in respects to nostalgia as nostalgia forms the basis for the story that has origins from her actual youth while living in French Indochina age fifteen she fell in love with a rich Chinese man Duras takes this premise and places a white teenage girl in South Vietnam into the arms of a wealthy older man who catches her ye while been driven in a limousine But this is a forbidden lov DesireThe first time Seductive Surrender ever I saw your face was on the ferryI had my head buried in a copy of the South China Morning Post My father had said if I read itvery day I would learn about the world around us and his boy would become a man Only then would I be ready to take over the family business after himHe was right in his way I was thin and soft and na ve Seductive Surrender (Highland Heather Romancing a Scot, even though I had just returned from two years in Paris I was still a boy at 28 I m sure I would have continued as a boy unless I had met youI had slept with many girls in Paris and I bedded plenty after you before I married my wife a virgin until our wedding night But I didn t sleep with any of these girls out of love orven desire I fucked them because I could They came to me ager to be fucked and we all knew the reason my family s wealth and increasing prominence in Saigon They all came to me because they wanted something that my father hadMy father was not an gotistical man He did not display pride or shame He did verything out of duty ven make money buy property run a department store and build wealth But when it came to the girls I slept with not you and he always found out about them he took some delight in my sexual activity No matter how attractive ach one was he knew that by sleeping with them I was actually disualifying them from the race to be my wife and share his wealth Everyone I slept with narrowed it down to the one I would ventually marryI looked up from the Post some article on inflation and I saw you taking a seat opposite me I gazed at you longer than I should haveEverything about you was wrong You were Caucasian white 15 years old slim you were wearing a flowing dress that alternately swayed in the breeze or clung to your body outlining and highlighting your petite breasts And you were wearing a man s fedora and gold shoesOnce I took all of this in I tried to resume reading the Post I was looking down at the page but I couldn t distinguish a single word I was thinking of you and I was shaking Like a boyLater the same week we happened to be on the same ferry again I didn t see you on board but when my father s driver until recently when he retired my driver opened the door to the limousine I noticed that you were standing near the waterline apparently deciding what you would do nextI went up to you determined to offer you a ride in my car I mean my father s car You were apprehensive at first but I reassured you of my good faith and you decided to accept It helped that I was shaking the whole way through our brief discussionWhile we were talking we stood side on so that my driver could see both of us the sides of our faces and the hints of nervous smiles Something must have touched him unless he did it out of a sense of duty to my father for he took a photo of us that dayHe gave it to me when he retired 10 years ago I have carried it with me in my wallet The Deepest Sin every day since then Until today I haven t pulled it out and looked at it again I didn t need to That moment in myyes has been ngraved in my mind for fifty years The only difference is that the image confirms that I was there that it wasn t all in my imagination you can see both of us The image is true and so now is my memory Only I m not sure whether I ver wanted to be reminded It s not that the photo reminds me of a time when I was a boy After all it was you who made me a man not reading the PostLike my father before me I am a man of duty I have faithfully taken care of my wife my family my family s business Everything has grown under my watchful and caring ye I have done the right thing and I will die a contented man if contentment is what I am looking forNo what that photo and that moment remind me of is my capacity for desire It is something I liminated from my field of vision after we parted company at my parents insistence and you returned to Paris I thought with your motherI already knew the rudimentary mechanics of sex when we stood before ach knew the rudimentary mechanics of sex when we stood before ach a skinny Chinese boy and a skinny French girl in my bedroom for the first time As I had done before I was shaking Even my tentative rection looked as if it might shake off and fall to the floor It s funny now but it wasn t funny thenUntil I met you I had been lonely I was ven lonelier after I had met you because of the obsessive love I had for youYou said I d rather you didn t love me youYou said I d rather you didn t love me if you do I d like you to do as you usually do with women I asked Is that what you want You nodded Still I knew that you would never love me that you could never love meI said You ve come would never love me that you could never love meI said You ve come with me as you might have gone anywhere with anyone You replied I can t say so far I ve never gone into a bedroom with anyone You begged me again to do what I usually did with the women I brought to my roomI did my best to comply Although you were a virgin I made love to you the way you directed me to It was different to how I normally did it well there was one difference I wept while we made loveThe driver soon learned about you and so did my father He could tell I felt differently about you that I wasn t disualifying you that I wanted to marry this white girl ven though you would never love me in returnHe made his position very clear I will not let my son marry this little white whore from Sadec I tried to obliterate his attitude from my thinking But it must have affected me subliminally In bed as we fucked and passionately I would call out My whore my slut you are my only love And you and I and my cum and your juices and our sweat would be swept up in a torrent of desireFor a long time it seemed as if that torrent would never stop I didn t know where the waters sprang from but I definitely didn t know where they were headingMy father did and so he built a dam that would contain the flow and one day the torrent just stoppedLoving you had made me a man he knew that as I did and although we disagreed wildly I was reconciled to my future in the family businessAs my father loosened his grip on the reins and handed them over to me I xpanded to two and then ventually five department stores and then years later with such a solid foundation I started investing in shopping centres in Australia until my family became the largest private holder of retail real state in the countryLike my father I am not an Le valeureux guerrier egotistical man or a proud one I do this because of duty But there was a moment when I contented myself with a smile I had just signed a contract to purchase a centre in Australia for A30 million I signed a cheue for a A3M deposit and gave it to the Vendor s lawyer A youngish fellow he decided to phone my banker and ask whether I had sufficient funds in my account to clear the cheue The banker asked what the total sale price was The lawyer answered and my banker laughed There arenough funds in this account to pay the Snowflakes on the Sea entire sale price in cash The lawyer turned to me sueamishly and declared that we had a deal I said I was under the impression we had a deal before you phoned my bank Inuired after that lawyer once It turned out he had married one of my property managers and was now running a coffee shop ironically in one of my centresI have two daughters They run our portfolio and they do a professional job of it than Wrathful Chaos: Five Books of Satanic Philosophy either I or my fatherver didPerhaps my father was better at taking risks than they are but to be honest they are pretty good at it I am proud of them and he would be too They have married well and have given me four beautiful grandchildrenAs I said I have carried our photo in my wallet for many years ver since I learned of its xistenceAny other man in my position would possibly say that they had verything that they had ver desiredFor me that is true Humanism: The Greek Ideal and its Survival except in one sense that I have tried to overlook for fifty yearsI once desired you that skinny white French girl in the fedora I desired you with an intensity that I cannot find words to describeI have tried to rationalise and deny that desire I ve tried to convince myself that I onlyver desired you once And that is actually the truth I did only desire you once but that one occasion has lasted fifty yearsNow that I am about to die or think I am and my family will soon gather around me to say their farewells I must take a match to this photo and set it alight like you once set me alight and perhaps I will never know perhaps I also set you alight if not for as longMy favourite nurse just brought me an ashtray and a cigarette lighter It took me two or three attempts to burn this image It didn t seem to want to goBut now it is finished and there are only ashes in the tray and my failing memory and when I die and it too goes there will be nothing left of our desire Mural at the Pawpaw Cafe attached to the Brisbane Restaurant Green Papaya. Lly strapped French family and an older wealthy Chinese Vietnamese man from Wikiped. L'Amant Author Marguerite Duras

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And the time comes when we ve to make peace with our past to let go of moments we cherished dearly or of those which brought torment The Fix endless the love we lived or the one we deniedmphatically the people we admired foolishly and the ones we d to abandon things fall apart and what is left are the crumbled spikes we call memories And time comes when those fragmented pieces of the past are to be jotted down the unspoken tale to be spoken after all to let out the stories inside us not to seek a sympathetic heart or to moan over our losses we say our hearts just for the sake of saying to breathe freely to be at peace Here is the tale told in most apathetic fashion touching the innermost chords of the flesh in us which beats with the same rhythm as of the indifferent narrator after all we ve all been the lovers and we ve loved A love like this so strong it never happens again in a lifetimenever There s nothing new in the tale if you re looking for a love story you re gravely mistaken There s no such love nor the story The kind of love that starts with dewy glances and perturbs hearts the kind of love with the happy nding of togetherness or the kind of love that longs for the beloved in dark nights with juices flowing down the loins marguerite pens down vents from her childhood in most detached of voices hers is not the lush style with poetic diction there s a marked dispassion in the tone and daunting flair in descriptions of her Indochina which is Vietnam today and of her Chinese lover a man of twenty seven besotted by the skinny French girl of fifteen who hides her poverty stricken face under a Manish hat who wears clothes that were in fashion a dozen years ago who has a body of a child and no flesh to attract men but a face of a half goddess and half prostitute veiled behind his limousine glass the lover falls for her in a fair morning in his way to cholon he can never marry her he tells the child very time he makes love to her this stripped naked reality saddens the most rotic of scenes tooLike a father he tends to her needs like a lover he worships her passionately as for her she s found a haven in him a home away from home from those desperately poor people that are her family the child loves his skin as he loves her untainted soul they never promise nothing they weave no future as the lovers know they have none Sometimes we just want to lie next to someone and sleep knowing our hearts are safe the surety of sharing the same sky appeases much as duras penned it down in her 70s her heart must ve been swelled with the thought of her lover the faded face the gone fragrance the screaming silence of her war ravaged Saigon I see the war as like him spreading Desire in Seven Voices everywhere breaking inverywhere stealing imprisoning always there merged and mingled with verything 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 bodies of those less strong of conuered peoples Because vil is there at the gates against the skinHe will always feel the same for her he said 252 L Amant The Lover The Lover 1 Marguerite DurasThe Lover is an autobiographical novel by Marguerite Duras published in 1984 It has been translated to 43 languages and was awarded the 1984 Prix Goncourt It was adapted to film in 1992 as The Lover Set against the backdrop of French colonial Vietnam The Lover reveals the intimacies and intricacies of a clandestine romance between a pubescent girl from a financially strapped French family and an older wealthy Chinese man In 1929 a 15 year old nameless girl is traveling by ferry across the Mekong Delta returning from a holiday at her family home in the town of Sa c to her boarding school in Saigon She attracts the attention of a 27 year old son of a Chinese business magnate a young man of wealth and heir to a fortune He strikes up a conversation with the girl she accepts a ride back to town in his chauffeured limousine 1998 1376 116 9644480511 1377 1378 1380 1384 1388 1391 20 1393 90 9786009452019 20 Very The Casa Mono Cookbook early in my life it was too late and Death came before thend of his story When he was still alive it had already happened The first very striking uote is on the opening page Like the second uote it teases about horrors not yet xplained that may never be Marguerite Duras wrote this autobiographical novella over a few months around her 70th birthday The narrative is dreamy and disjointed Her family is damaged and disjointed She slips between first and third persons tenses and sheets The main characters are nameless and pronouns sometimes ambiguous I collected the shiny tesserae gradually constructing patches of story Some fit tightly others less so There s an rotic diversion to describe the innocently irresistible body of a schoolmate H l ne Lagonelle You could almost read the snippets in any order like JG Ballard s The Atrocity Exhibition which I reviewed HEREImage Scene on the ferry from the 1992 film which I ve not seen SourceThe pages xude the heat and humidity of French Indochina now Vietnam in 1929 Soporific fever drives lust and hormones Desperation changes standards Taboos are breached The writing is beautiful but there I opened the first page of Marguerite Duras The Lover and there she was the girl with no name with all her ancient reminiscences I heard her voice if it were inside my head Very ancient reminiscences I heard her voice as it were inside my head Very in my life it was too late It was already too late when I was ighteen How did you get there my friend Or should I call you my sister since from the beginning I discovered we shared anguishes and most certainly a great multitude of passions and dreams We both were introduced to this world by tortured mothers who xperienced this deep despondency about living Sometimes it lasted sometimes it would vanish with the dark But their desperation was thoroughly heartfelt for what can a daughter do when facing a mother desperate with a despair so unalloyed that sometimes ven life s happiness at its most poignant couldn t make them forget it We daughters recognize them ffortlessly as the awkward way she holds herself the way she doesn t smile That image of our mothers certainly stayed with both of us for life my friend But what can we do but go on living I glance outside and the wind is speeding like my heart is beating faster and faster bum bum bum as I get to know you But suddenly my mind gets back inside Yes I was also there when you met the nameless man while crossing the river going back to Saigon with a storm blowing inside the water I will never forget how you looked at our first meeting my friend wearing a dress of real silk the famous pair of gold lame high heels and a man s flat brimmed hat a brownish pink fedora with a broad black ribbon I have to agree with you The crucial ambiguity of the image lies in the hat You were only fifteen and a half but wearing powder to camouflage the freckles and your mother s lipstick He was legant not a white man but wearing European clothes Again I remember myself walking hand in hand with a 26 year old man when I was just sixteen Our xperiences seem
*to mimic ach *
mimic ach don t you think But while I had two fine sisters you had two wild brothers that would never do anythingGoing back to your nameless young man as you told me he got out of the limousine and is smoking an English cigarette He looks at you in the man s fedora and the gold shoes He slowly comes over to you He doesn t smile to begin with He s obviously nervous Was it so asy to get into this man s car dear friend I don t know if I would have had the courage or the temerity That s a clue that ven though sisters we are inherently different And he presented himself I was thin and soft and na ve ven though I had just returned from two years in Paris I was still a boy at 28 I m sure I would have continued as a boy unless I met you And you simply got into his car The door shuts A barely discernible distress suddenly seized you weariness the light over the river dims but only slightly Everywhere too there s a very slight dearness or fogFurther memories of those times we shared during one of our meetings comes running back to me It is as if I was there with you peeping into your afternoons At first he looks at you as though he Conflict in Blood expects you to speak but you don t He says he loves you madly says it very softly Then is silent You don t answer You could say you don t love him You say nothing But you did not stop at that no you said I d rather you didn t love me But if you do I d like you to do as you usually do with women He looked at you in horror asked Is that what you want You said it is He says he knows already you ll never love him Then you let him say it You were a cool one weren t you I look out the window and now it s raining like if it was going to drown us hiding the sun shining at me It s dark inside for nothing could be harder than remembering those times We who are now almost old ladies at least well into our mature years On top of my supposed wisdom I wonder what is it so mysterious about being a woman As a matter of fact I often asked myself that before meeting my first lover at sixteen Yes I was some months older than you Not that it would have made any difference if I couldnvision what and where that would lead me to As you said some women just wait they dress just for the sake of dressing They look at themselves dream of romance long days of waiting Some of them go mad Some are ditched You can hear the word hit them hear the sound of the blow Some kill themselves But that was never us please tell me so But why could we xpect to be different Did you ver think you might have known but forgot to tell me Suddenly inspiration hits me and I know how we saved ourselves despite our mothers Do you still remember what you said some time ago I think you might have forgotten let me remind you it s so simple it was the writing that saved us You told me how it all started I want to write I ve already told my mother That s what I want to do write No answer the first time Then she asks Write what I say Books novels She says grimly when you ve got your math degree you can write if you like it won t be anything to do with me then. Set against the backdrop of French colonial Vietnam The Lover reveals the intimacie. ,
She s against it it s not worthy it s not real work it s nonsense Later she said A childish ideaI answered that what I wanted than anything The Crucified Ones: Calling Forth the End-Time Remnant else in the world was to write nothinglse but that nothing Jealous She s jealous No answer just a uick glance immediately averted a slight shrug unforgettable I ll be the first to leaveI also write although nobody knows I am not famous after all But it saved me nonetheless But you tried to hide it from me It s ok I forgive you my friend But I remember so well what you said once I ve never written though I thought I wrote never loved though I thought I loved never done anything but wait outside the closed doorSo many years have passed us by leaving their ignoble scars but we still reminisce all that went when we were almost children Yes you told me I can still see his face and I do remember the name The name you forgot to tell me Indeed it s a place of distress shipwrecked And your mother that went on living Grace Hopper and the Invention of the Information Age (Lemelson Center Studies in Invention and Innovation series) even after you left her Let s leave your brothers and my sisters for another talk please Or what you told me happened in Paris Or my years in London and New York Let s leave the rest for another time for I know with a certainty that goes deep into my bones that we will meet again Until thenNotes 1 All uotes are in italics 2 I took the liberty to change some pronouns to fit the flow of the writing in some uotes so sometimes it will read you where it was her i found myself utterly muted by this book which is problematic because the book club meets this friday and they aren t going to be so dazzled by my bruschetta that i can get away with just hiding behind the tiny jewess and drinking their wine so i have to think of something consulting the reading group handbook by rachel w jacobsohn bought for my final school assignment i learn how to think about literaturecharacters and story line young french girl older chinese man falling into bed and clinical love without names in indochina character s actions she has poor unsatisfying home life he has rich traditional home life they bangverything seems muffled by gauzereader s Logic, Labels, And Flesh emotional response unmoved if the author s voice is going to be so removed and the characters aren t going to feel anything particularly deep why should i bexpected to have Dialogue: Relationships in Graphic Design emotions it s like watching people fucking with a wall in between them masturbating atach other resentfullynarrative fragmentary pastpresent conflation surface motions only short poetic musings which are occasionally uite lyrical but never caught at me oh man i have zero to say about it i don t know people love this book but i am not one of them wish me luckreaders thinkers and drinkers jan 2010come to my blog My full review as well as my other thoughts on reading can be found on my blogAn autobiographical story about an affair between a young French girl and a Chinese man set near Saigon The Lover wavers between repression and indulgence The tone is detached the description spare the narrative fragmented in spite of the the cool aloofness of Duras s prose though the novel is incredibly sensual Each image glints and radiates a warmth much at odds with the narrator s motional reticence The unnamed French girl s tendency to return to describing a few central images from her past capturing them from different angles lends the photographic text a cyclical and Modeling and Analysis of Communicating Systems erotic uality In thend though the story is rather disturbing the girl is Inventing the Medium: Principles of Interaction Design as a Cultural Practice exploited by her lover and her family regularly abuses her The Lover is of a harrowing survival narrative than a romance and Duras s story of her adolescence is well worth reading AWARDED THE 1984 PRIX GONCOURT The story of my life doesn txist Does not The Chinese Economy: Transitions and Growth exist There s never any centre to it No path no line There are great spaces where you pretend there used to be someone but it s not true there was no one The young Marguerite DurasShe has pretty hair copper hair that spools down her back in waves of alluring movement People always comment on how beautiful her hair is which she interprets to mean that they don t find her pretty She cuts her hair off She wears what is left in pigtails She buys a man s hat that is certainlyccentric for a young girl to wear in Saigon in 1929 She wants people to notice her yes her lips certainly something other than her hair She wants reassurance that her beauty is larger than one xuisite feature She is fifteen and a half Her father is dead Her mother is poor Her older brother is a layabout spoiled by her mother Her other brother is nice but no match for the rest of the family She is lost in a world between adulthood and childhood a dream world and a world of harsh realities Her mother insists that she study mathematics but she wants to be a writer She has a friend at school A lovely friend totally uninhibited and unaware of how beautiful she is H l ne Logonelle s body is heavy innocent still her skin s as soft as that of certain fruits you almost can t grasp her she s almost illusory it s too muchI am worn out with desire for H l ne Logonelle I am worn out with desire He has a limousine with a chauffeur He is rich or let me be precise his father is Rich He Is Chinese He is Chinese is infatuated with her He trembles with fear born desireShe wants them both I d like to give H l ne Lagonelle to the man who does that to me so he may do it in turn to her I want it to happen in my presence I want her to do it as I wish I want her to giver herself where I give myself It s via H l ne Logonelle s body through it that the ultimate pleasure would pass from him to me A pleasure unto death Tony Leung Ka Fai and Jane March In The March in the French FilmHe is twenty seven but it is as if she were older He is slender insubstantial built like a boy A man trapped in a young mind Arrested development He often weeps because he can t find the strength to love beyond fear His heroism is me his cravenness is his father s money He is hindered instead of strengthened by his father He is obsessed with her with her nubile body but knows his father will never let him keep her She wasn t sure that she hadn t loved him with a love she hadn t seen because it had lost itself in the affair like water in sand and she rediscovered it only now through this moment of music flung across the sea This book is based on the real life of Marguerite Donnadieu better known as Marguerite Duras She was born in Saigon and did have a wealthy much older Chinese lover At fifteen I think most of us believe we will love many people We will have many In Deeper exciting affairs of the heart True love will be a field of flowers not a single stem already residing in the hand At fifteenven when we think we are in love we can t know whether it is real Our basis of comparison is too slender too new too wrapped in hormonal need to really know what we feel is love I love this picture of Marguerite Duras The languid weighted yelids are a point of fascinationShe wrote this novel at the age of seventy After fifty five years I m sure that Duras s memories have been filtered through many lenses The sepia tones of her time with her Chinese lover have deepened The uncertainty is gone and she is left with clear concise brush strokes of a commemoration of lost love This is a novel and from what I read there are deviations from her nonfiction accounts of her first affair but this book reads of truth The reader is left with a precise picture of a young woman who may have lost some of her innocence but gains a self confidence to break away from her meaningless life and swim for a new shore If you wish to see of my most recent book and movie reviews visit also have a Facebook blogger page at Who is L amant The characters in this story are nameless A puzzle of personal pronouns draws an anonymous canvas that perspires with alienation and the dense humidity of a foreign land that mourns the loss of youth and innocence that invokes the image of photographs never taken the sound of words never uttered and the mirage of a future that never xisted Only the condensed ardour that clouds up the windows of a small hotel room where two slippery bodies abandon themselves to contorting passion defies reality and the passage of time But who is The Lover Is The Lover the fifteen years old tomboy standing in front to the ferry hiding her prematurely wrinkled face under the shadow of a man s fedora hat She never xpected to fall in love with him She was only worn out with desire And her dysfunctional family of European colonizers needed the moneyIs The Lover the wealthy Chinese man of twenty seven years of age from Cholen who adores the girl from the distance concealed behind the tainted windows of his father s black limousine He undresses her with trembling fingers and weeps in the xile of his illegitimate love He is ashamed of his weakness She kisses his fragility and ruins the rest of his lifeAt first I thought The Lover was she Then I realized it was heAnd finally I understood it was much The Lover is a movable portrait of a first person narrator who is visiting a succession of her younger selves Memories are her brushstrokes and life consuming longing the color in which she paints her pictorial story The awakening of first love and the discovery of rotic pleasure arrive hand in hand with the heartbreak of a certain separation the sentence to life imprisonment by familial duty and the ruthlessness of intransigent tradition The cultural distance between the local people and the colonizers in French Indochina become the backdrop of a love story that is condemned by history before it ven started and the detached irony that drips from the narrator s voice can t disguise the desolation that is Financial Modeling and Valuation: A Practical Guide to Investment Banking and Private Equity eating her alive underneath a carefully studied impassive poise The Lover is a cascade of musical notes delivered in fluid movements a whirlwind of words repeated like a mantra in breathless cadence and staccatto punctuation The Lover is than a semi autobiographical memoir and less than an interior monologue It is the rawness of impressionistic paragraphs capturing in Polaroid snapshots the obsession of a crazed mother the chauvinistic abuse of anlder brother and the alternating urgency and resigned languidness that leaves a permanent scar on the fea. S and intricacies of a clandestine romance between a pubescent girl from a financia. ,