…is someone I’ve been thinking about far too much these days. I’ve been studying line by line, The Wasteland by T.S. Eliot and wondering about romantic love. I’ve thought of Ophelia the most, since a favorite teacher of mine once dubbed me with the nickname, and, of course, I could never quite figure out if it was the hair that made her do so, or if there something tragic about my personality.
Either way, I’ve been pondering the role of the tragic virgin, in lieu of a poem I’d written awhile ago, and wondering how the tragedy of Ophelia might otherwise be brought to life, not as the perceived victim, the romantic who throws away her life for her love, but as someone empowered. Thus, I’ve been drifting on the water, trying to bring meaning and life to the lifeless.
Well thanks B, now I want that book. Note to anyone wanting to buy me presents: Patrick Süskind’s On Love & Death. Or anyone wanting to buy me something. Or anyone planning on buying me something in the next 6 months…