Thoughts | Last night I dreamt that somebody loved me...

The past couple of weeks have been challenging. On one hand, I experienced the worst day I ever had since I moved to Oxford, more than a year ago. It wasn't an isolated event either: in the past few weeks, I experienced some truly horrendous days in which it seemed like all the curses cast by my father had finally found their way to me. On the other hand, I also experienced some of the most beautiful and inspiring things that happened since the new year. I went from being the least alone, most blessed creature in the planet, to the loneliest thing that could ever dream of existing, all in the span of a few hours, again and again, over days, in a way that only Vulcans could possibly understand.

I won't describe everything that happened. This is not an usual log, by any means. I'll probably skip weeks 2 and 3 anyway, I am not out of that cycle yet. But I would like to write about what happened today, because if I don't write I'll forget. And I really shouldn't forget this.

Things and Thoughts | The roses don't speak

Sometimes I wonder where this idea that women are more emotional and sentimental than men comes from. I wonder that, especially in light of how much feeling so many men have committed to the artistic legacy of mankind. Paint on a piece of canvas, shapes revealed from blocks of stone, dance moves captured on camera and words, above all words, meaningful verbal exchanges between people made of paper and ink. I feel a deeper kinship to these men than to any of the women I have met in my life. 

One such men is Cartola, composer from Rio, baluarte da mangueira. And this morning, as I made my way to the library, l thought of his song, "As Rosas Não Falam" (The Roses Don't Speak). Not because of the longing he feels for the girl in the song... I myself have never felt this particular brand of romantic pangs. But I understand the loneliness that drives one to share their secrets with roses. And my heart, like his, beats full of hope because the summer has finally ended. 

Isn't it a lovely day to be caught in the rain? I wanted a picture of roses, but couldn't find any on my path... I settled for listening to Cartola, and watching the wonderful "Is there in truth no beauty". It's not a bad way to spend a day...

 

Book | The Hunger by Whitley Strieber

The Hunger | Whitley Strieber |
Simon & Schuster Pocket books |
Oxford Union Society Library |
357 pages

"Everyone knew the sins of Miriam Blaylock. Her crime, and it was an unforgivable one, was to enjoy human beings as friends and lovers, rather than to simply exploit them. She could kiss them and find it sweet, have sex with them and afterward sleep like a contented tiger.

When I first watched The Hunger (1983), the movie seemed like it had been made exclusively for me. The vampires, the cello, the passion of it all... It was heartstopping. Which is why when I saw the book from which it was adapted at the "new acquisitions" shelf at the Oxford Union Library a few months ago, the temptation was too great to resist. 

The book does not disappoint. 

The story, is essentially the same as that of the movie, which I have written about, already, when I first watched it, a few years ago. Miriam Blaylock is a vampire. Not a human who was turned into a vampire at some point in the past, like in so many other stories, but an entirely different species, gifted with everlasting life. She is capable of sharing her gift with humans, transforming her companions into beings with unnaturally long life. But not forever. Invariably, they wither and die.

At the beginning of the story, Miriam's husband, John, is dying. He doesn't quite understand what is happening to him, or why the Hunger that plagued him since Miriam's first bestowed her gift upon him is burning stronger. As he decays, Miriam watches, lamenting the inevitable end of someone she loved so dearly. She is looking for a new companion, and a woman, Sarah Roberts, draws her attention. Sarah is a brilliant physician-scientist, one whose research is very close to explaining Miriam's very existence, even though Sarah hasn't really met her yet. But she will. Miriam will make sure of it. 

One thing that surprised me about the book, in comparison with the movie was how much time they spend trying to explain Sarah's research, with some techno-babble about her work with Rhesus monkeys and specific cell lines. It's the kind of thing I don't generally care for in science fiction. What I did care about were the characters, and specifically, how well the author described the intimacy that took place between them. 

Science Officer's Personal Log | Michaelmas 23 - week 1 (08/10-14/10)

 As I write these lines, in the middle of a cold Sunday, hours away from choir rehearsal, my new room is in a state of complete disarray. It is always so when I am pressed to choose clothes for what is meant to be a formal (or at least formal-ish) occasion. But even amidst this chaos I must say, I am well, and it's finally starting to feel like the long, horrid summer is behind me.

For one thing, it's cold again. It happened between Wednesday and Thursday. Somewhere between twilight and dawn, summer turned into winter over the span of a few dark hours. When I woke up, the sultry weather had been replaced by a wonderful grey sky. The pavement was wet, the streets were quiet, it was 13°C outside and I smiled, remembering for the first time in a long time how much I enjoy living in the North. 

 

My street, early in the morning, before heading to the library

Science Officer's Personal Log | As it was in the beginning...

The last Saturday of the long vacation ended in a lovely night. 

Magdalen tower on a different night...