[Love]
What is love? I wrote a dissertation in my sophomore year on Plato's Symposium. I don’t know if it was an influence left at that time. To this day, I still think that love is the meaning of drinking. Love is the pursuit of things that can never be pursued. Love is a tragedy.
The most perfect relationship between men and women, the perfection here may be in the sense of aesthetics, or it may be outside the real time. In this time, only he and her, others do not enjoy this time, and others are aware of it The existence of less than this time, and the two people who exist in this time. The space between these two is not a space that ordinary people can see. Yes, they're walking down the streets of Paris, they're sitting in pure cafes, they're sitting in vans, there's people going and going, they've got glasses, they've ears, they've got noses, but no one can get in them In the field in between, they are unconsciously xenophobic in time and space.
But people always have to return to the real time and space. Love, therefore, is destined to be just a self-absorbed drama, a struggle between two kinds of time and space. When we meet love, we put on a mask, but it is more real because of it. Because they were afraid that the real time and space would erode that love time and space, the two decided to stop the love time and space by themselves, and then keep it. So they didn't leave phone numbers and addresses.
A person who believes in love is destined to live in tragedy. Whether you find love or not. Because even if found, love will go away. Or because people always have to act on two stages of ideal and reality to feel good. There are many kinds of tragedies in life, and love is only one of them. However, those many tragedies, understood on the basis of Plato's interpretation of "love", can be summed up as the tragedies of love.
The greatest tragedy that Plato has ever written, which is far deeper than that of Sophocles and Shakespeare, is The Symposium.
What is love, either you destroy it with your own hands and fulfill the tragedy of love fatefully; or you do not go all out because you are afraid of hurting its beauty, and use a tragedy of your own to carry love, to carry a love that is forever chasing, On the road, the unfinishable, called love, a lie that is truer than the truth.
At noon, a sister cried. She toasted me and said she was an outlaw. She is a love desperado, and the fate of the desperado is to fulfill the tragedy of love fatefully. Although she is also consuming herself, her greater harm is the harm to love itself, and her consumption is external. As for me, I am not a desperado. I choose to use my own tragedy to carry love. I failed love, but I carried it. I am also consuming myself and internal friction. This may also be the difference between a small b and a small t.
The people in the movie struggle between the two, and nine years ago, they made a compromise choice, which is undoubtedly the result of the struggle. They agreed to meet again in 6 months, however, they did not leave phone numbers and addresses. The former is consumed externally, the latter is consumed internally. But the meaning of fate is that it makes tragedy twists and turns, or drama twists and turns. Destiny is like a clown or a magician in front of love. It can only give some disguise to the surface, but it cannot change its essence. For those two people, fate delayed the time of external friction for 8 and a half years. During this short period of time, the two were driven by fate to internal friction. Fortunately, it was internal friction. The tragedy of 9 years created a short-lived love in 9 years. Love is to consume so much, to claim so much, love is like Helen of the Iliad, if you want her, whether you get it or not, your life is ruined like this. The blip of a love nine years later requires the tragedy of the previous nine years and the tragedy of more years to come.
So I suddenly wondered why the two people in Paradise Lost chose to die when their love was at its most extreme. This is angry with love, this is hate love, you have to take so many of our things, well, when we die, you will never take more. At the same time, the time and space of love will also freeze at that moment, and will never be invaded by the time and space of reality again.
[sunset, sunrise]
The two just walked and talked, nothing else. What appears as the background is the real space, Paris or Vienna, the real time, sunrise or sunset, audiences who have forgotten their own time and space. When I watched it, I almost cried with happiness, because I found that tragedy is the source of happiness, and the extreme of happiness is tragedy. And, the good things turned out to be so small, so small. They were listening to records in a small space, he looked at her while she was looking away, she knew he was looking at her, she turned her head to him, and almost at the same moment he moved his glasses away , and she just turned her head and turned her face to him, her eyes only moved to him a few times, but did not move any square centimeter of his body, he seemed to realize it, looked at her again, she felt him Looking at her again, he didn't dodge, his eyes like a careful dragonfly just clicked his glasses, and both eyes flew away as if in shock. But in less than a second, the game of hide and seek was repeated.
Good things are so easy to come by, why there is a sunrise, why there is a sunset, this is as easy as a dream. Why is he so beautiful when he puts his hand on the back of her chair, why she is so uneasy when she says that the little bunny is so cute, why is beauty so easy to get us and yet yearns for love.
Because without love, beauty is not so easy to come by. Without love, there is no beautiful glasses found. If there is no love, there will be no heart like soft waves, but with a heart like soft waves, tragedy will come, and when tragedy comes, we will cry happily.
View more about Before Sunrise reviews
