Sunday 9 June 2019

Love, šaltibarščiai and red tomatoes - text analysis and the nature of love





This book was written between 2016 and 2017, in six months. Published in 2018. One of the advantages (or disadvantages) of talking about a book that has been given to the press almost one year ago is that you forget (at least me) all of what you wrote. In this lapse of time you took a break from the tension that created you to write the book, because of reading the text ad infinitum to find errors, mistakes and things that did not work, which almost led to hate what you wrote; because of proofreading, which collapsed you into the stress you seemed to have forgotten - and which perhaps, in my case at least, causes you more stress than when you wrote it. Finally, this long pause brings you out of that excessive accumulation of energy and concentration that prevents you from any detached reading. But reading again this text one year later leads you to evaluate the text according to a range of possibilities that you didn't have before, brings you in a universe that you didn't belong to before, compared to the moment you wrote the book, in this universe you can now judge the book with another look. Very far from those (now) far initial universes you belonged to. You see now a new version of the facts you told previously in the book.
At this time I find it like a Proustian text, which I didn’t notice when I wrote it, although in those days I read some parts of Proust's Research. To be honest I discovered a nice text, in line with my thoughts and the way of writing that belongs to me as I understand it - writing to communicate, to make people think, to give a message, to make people aware of certain issues, without getting them bored, relying on contents that you find most surprising and supported by the rhythm. It is obviously the author’s opinion, who believes, though, in his reliability regarding his perceptions because - given the number of books (and shit) who reads in one year – he can dare to say that he has developed a critical sense for his own works.

"Love, šaltibarščiai and red tomatoes" has a double possibility of reading. It is a novel because it tells a love story. It is an essay because it investigates, in depth, the nature of love.
To be more precise, it speaks of the nature of love elicited by an analysis capable of robustly grasping and identifying thoughts, intentions, h/ History of the protagonist, Austėja Stašytė, in an entangled relationship with the male protagonist.

NATURE OF LOVE.

Love has value because we recognize it as a value, and only when/and because we recognize it as a value. Every act of love has the same quality, of Love, that corresponds to what Love is in itself - as each unit of measure has the quality corresponding to that which must measure. So the meter has the quality of length because it measures the length, but it is not only the measure of the length, it is also the length of the measurement because it is one meter long.
Thus, love corresponds to the act, but it is not solely that act, as each act is measured by the love that creates the act. And the acts take place within the structure of the lines of reality that have placed us in a different location completely distinct from the one previously  assigned  (History),
For this reason the book, which is a biography [read page 125 to understand the very intention of this biography] eventually becomes also a kind of contrastive grammar on the two mentalities that come to be located in the same space, following lines of different realities - History [read page 56 - final part - to understand the the very meaning of this correlation]. In their localization the two mentalities are exposed, they reveal themselves in their intimacy (let us not forget that love is the place par excellence where intimacy is shown). But intimacy is always and, in any case, caught through the lens of historical perspective that elicits confirmation about the way of loving (i.e. of love).

It is a book specially written for those who generously search for love, for those who love, for those with a vital interest in love. It is a book that if you allow yourself to be taken by the spirals of the analysis of the main characters thoughts, by the vivisection of their feelings, is almost similar to a thriller, and the rhythm catches you and transports you page after page.

The book is for sale on IBS

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