Even when they were two worn-out people they kept on blooming like little children
…he dug so deeply into her sentiments that in search of interest he found love, because by trying to make her love him he ended up falling in love with her. Petra Cotes, for her part, loved him more and more as she felt his love increasing, and that was how in the ripeness of autumn she began to believe once more in the youthful superstition that poverty was the servitude of love. Both looked back then on the wild revelry, the gaudy wealth, and the unbridled fornication as an annoyance and they lamented that it had cost them so much of their lives to find the paradise of shared solitude. Madly in love after so many years of sterile complicity, they enjoyed the miracle of loving each other as much at the table as in bed, and they grew to be so happy that even when they were two worn-out people they kept on blooming like little children and playing together like dogs.”
Are you in the mood?
Not me, not today. Too much going on, too distracted. Then, I fired up my computer to drag out a quote for today, and turned on PBS for some background noise – my cat is snoring gently and persistently, and to focus I need to distract myself from the urge to nap. Sigh.
Then, oh, beautiful happenstance!
- Christiane Northrup was on PBS, plugging her book, joking about loving life and sex after menopause. If you’re not there, she’s very TMI. If you are, or are blessed to be around with someone who is, she’s a kick.
- My cat’s snoring turned into meowings and purrings – no tuning that out!
- I remembered the birthday of Gabriel García Márquez, and went looking for something magical and juicy.
- Doctor Northrup quoted Dylan Thomas’s “Do Not Go Gentle Into that Good Night,” and tacked on an encouragement to rock it while we’ve got it. Mmmm poetry. What a way to go.
Ain’t life grand?
Happy Birthday, Gabriel García Márquez
Gabriel García Márquez turned 82 years old on March 6th. He’s not writing any more, but he still has that great smile. One Hundred Years of Solitude is the book I’ve quoted today, and it took Márquez from poverty to Nobel Laureate. For readers like me his magical realism was like a gateway drug leading to more Latin American literature.
I first bumped into One Hundred Years of Solitude in a Community College bookstore, while on my way to the textbook aisles. I gave the title a glance and the afternoon melted away. I came to again as the store was closing, halfway through the book with a cramp in my hand. Gabriel García Márquez lead me to re-reading Don Quixote, seeking out Pablo Neruda and being more than ready for Like Water for Chocolate.
I’ve quoted Gabriel García Márquez here only once before, on his birthday last year. This week I want to linger. Expect more.