Tuesday, 15 January 2019

"Our Roman Holiday over, it's time to pack up and go
our own ways, the cab is waiting I must go."
He could almost read the thought on that girlish face
and as she was about to step in
for the one split second, she turned.
One more time,
that killing look.
All Cinderellas have to leave the dance floor,
but must they leave behind
a real shoe
on a virtual dance floor?

Thanks for the image Anna del Valle Marti
Originally shared by ****

"E lucevan le stelle"
souvenir / remembrance

2. "The stars were shinning." Never again will this happiness return just this way. Anamnesis both fulfills and lacerates me.

The imperfect is the tense of fascination: it seems to be alive and yet it doesn't move: imperfect presence, imperfect death; neither oblivion nor resurrection; simply the exhausting lure of memory. From the start, greedy to play a role, scenes take their position in memory: often I feel this. I foresee this, at the very moment when these scenes are forming. —This theater of time is the very contrary of the search for lost time; for I remember pathetically, punctually, and not philosophically, discursively: I remember in order to be unhappy/happy—not in order to understand. I do not write, I do not shut myself up in order to write the enormous novel of time recaptured.

Roland Barthes. Fragments d’un discours amoureux, 1977.

Image: Bob Willoughby. Audrey Hepburn getting into a car having recently finished her first film Roman Holiday, 1953.

#literarytheory #barthes #dictionary #photography #willoughby #hepburn
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