To live or to art

Ludwig 2021-12-22 08:01:23

The characters are very simple and the plot is very concise.

In Montana, the United States, a large river flows there. A pious pastor, his two sons were born, grown up, and grown up here.

When I was young, in the river, my father taught his two sons to fish, the eldest son followed the procedure, and the younger son secretly invented another method.

After growing up, the eldest son was admitted to a university in the east and got a Ph.D. The youngest son went to school at a local college and then became a reporter. On the other hand, he became a well-known fishing master.

Later, the eldest son was hired to teach literature at the University of Chicago, and the younger son was beaten to death for abusive gambling.

The elder brother's evaluation of his younger brother is that his younger brother's life is artistic, but real life cannot be artistic. In addition, the elder brother who is a professor of literature is also the narrator of this story.

It just so happened to see Andre Moroa in his commentary for "Reminiscence of the Years" that Proust's "this kind of seclusion helps to transform life into art."

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Extended Reading
  • Donna 2022-04-23 07:02:36

    you can love completely without completely understanding

  • Lolita 2021-12-22 08:01:23

    A year later, the second time I watched it was using the big screen in class, I was hit by the same feeling. Their lives melt into the ever-changing river, and their own rhythms should be created in their lives.

A River Runs Through It quotes

  • [last lines]

    Older Norman: [narrating] Like many fly fishermen in western Montana where the summer days are almost Arctic in length, I often do not start fishing until the cool of the evening. Then in the Arctic half-light of the canyon, all existence fades to a being with my soul and memories and the sounds of the Big Blackfoot River and a four-count rhythm and the hope that a fish will rise. Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of those rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs. I am haunted by waters.

  • Older Norman: [narrating] My father looked at me for a long time, just looked at me and this was the last he and I ever said to me about Paul's death. Indirectly though, he was present in many of our conversations. Once for instance, my father asked me a series of questions that suddenly make me wonder if I understood even my father, whom I felt closer to than any man I have ever known. "You like to tell true stories?" he asked and I answered, "Yes, I like to tell stories that are true." Then he asked, "After you have finished your true stories sometime, why don't you make up a story and the people to go with it? Only then will you understand what happened and why. It is those we live with and love and should know who elude us."