Friday, 27 May 2011

I Shouldn’t, But I Really, Really Want To (and I Probably Will)

In 2008 I bought and read Call Me By Your Name by André Aciman and it completely broke my heart. Somehow I forgot about it until earlier this year when I was watching Little Ashes (which also utterly broke my heart) and I was thinking of how the love between Federico García Lorca and Salvador Dalí reminded me of the love between Elio and Oliver in Call me By Your Name. So, I re-read the book and it completely broke my heart again.

I mean, proper, gasping-for-air-that-I-don’t-even-want-to-breathe-in-because-what’s-the-point-and-why-are-you-doing-this-and-life-has-no-meaning type of heartbreak.

Yes.

It’s that intense.

I couldn’t read anything for about a week and I walked around in a haze because I just wanted to be back in the world of the book. Finally, I snapped out of it and realised that this is quite possibly the best book I’ve ever read.

If I could only read one book for the rest of my life, I would pick this one.

So, the dilemma I’m facing right now is that I woke up feeling that I want to read it again, but I really shouldn’t since I know that it’s going to break my heart all over again and ruin me completely. Everything about this book is such perfection, and Aciman's words are so beautiful I really just want to crawl in between the pages and stay there for all eternity - somewhere in the middle, because I don’t like the end. In fact, I would even go so far as to say that I hate the end, even though the end is the very reason I love the book.

So, do I break my own heart and potentially ruin myself for a week or do I turn to Samuel Beckett and potentially ruin myself for a couple of days (because he makes me think and that’s why I love him)?

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