the other reason i thought of nooteboom was because she asked if i believed in plato's notion of halves. nooteboom has a marvellous page about this in his "in the dutch mountains". i had to think about this for a long time, but i think i don't. or rather, i don't think i've ever believed in one person being the one. i think what i believe is that there are a limited number of ones. and that means that although there is a lot of serendipity involved it is also a matter of choice. i don't like the idea of the other half becos doesn't the idea of the right one shoves out the idea that relationships evolve, and that cherishing the differences and working to become a part of each other's lives is part of the point. we decide, finally, that love is like growing gardens. certain kinds of climates and soils are better suited to the kind of garden you'd like to have, and clearly some are plain wrong - you won't grow any mangosteens in toronto, and peaches haven't a chance in malaysia - but all the rest of it - whether it grows or not - is work. and all faithfulness is all a matter of choice, or will, if you believe that. all faithfulness is like keeping a vigil for the other. deciding you want to. i am thinking of nooteboom saying that there are some women who are so faithful that nothing but a once-only unfaithfulness can save them from certain catastrophe. nooteboom could have been talking about dido. we were just reading aeneid 4 yesterday. i have a great deal of sympathy for dido, her passion and her fury and her betrayal. it would be very beautiful and poignant to think they were inseparably in love but his pietas drives him on. that would be a painful end, and they would be the great star-crossed lovers that people like to say they are. but you really get the feeling his isn't equal to hers. do i expect him to flout his destiny, say forget it jupiter, i'm staying right here in carthage? no. but what makes it all so unacceptably (not to mention embarrasingly) cowardly of him is that he tries to sneak away, and when confronted, what he says to her, is: i never promised you anything, i never entered into any bond with you. of course i'll remember you and not without pleasure. but hey! i never said i loved you! that's what makes me so mad.
saturday morning already. *yawn* had dinner last night at tokyo rose with a girl i was in dan kinney's epics class with. haven't seen her for ages, and looked forward to doing so; we got along very well in class, and i like her very much - she's rather intense and perfectionistic, writes poetry, paints. sometimes i think of her as slightly bohemian - with her lightly unkempt look and her burst of curls and her interesting clothes. she also speaks mandarin, having lived in beijing for a year, so we could always gossip in class without detection. *grin* i did hope to work yesterday though, and she was picking me up at 7, so i expected to be home just after 9, for an hour or two of latin and a reasonably early night, but this, and that, and when we were just through with dinner and waiting for dessert i groped in my bag for my watch while she went out to get something from the car and was taken aback to discover it was already 10, and when i finally got home it was closer to 11, and i remembered i said i would stop in at the singaporeans party last night for a while, but too tired to go out again, and further behind than expected! i simply conked off then. it wasn't that it was a bad time; time wouldn't have passed that quickly if it had been! the food was very satisfying - we shared a dish of vietnamese-style rice paper-wrapped springrolls, and a whole lot of sushi, sake, green tea, as well as green tea ice cream. she also showed me her house, and invited me to study there whenever. i would certainly love to live in a house like hers! just the right size, very nicely if a little eclectic as to its decor. she had just been to a talk at the architecture school on zen gardens, japanese monastic architecture and the use of space. a german man who lives in japan gave the lecture. my friend thought it was a fantastic talk - and her enthusiasm almost made me wish i was at it with her. i wonder if i have another copy of cees nooteboom's rituals to give her. i am not seeing it on my shelves but i thought i had another one. (it has one of the best laugh-out-loud opening paragraphs i've ever read) she would like it, i think, she would probably like nooteboom in general too. nooteboom is fascinated with japan and works it into several of his books, but especially in rituals, in which a dutchman lives as a japanese tea master. nooteboom had been to japan and filmed 33 monasteries for a documentary, which interested my friend, coming from her lecture. (he also had one of his characters do the same.)