….from the places we used to be […] Oh my, there’s no place on earth I’d rather be.
In my life, three paintings have had a profound impact on me. This painting was the first of the three. It is hard to explain what impacted me so, but if I were to try, I would say that it is the strange combination of her knowing eyes and parted lips…
She is distant, yet she seems almost within reach. She teases the viewer into wanting more, all the while protecting herself by slightly thrusting her shoulder forward. She is aware of her power and uses it to her advantage. She even goes as far as admitting it with her eyes, thus rendering herself vulnerable. This vulnerability is even further pronounced by how much of her face she allows us to see. But make no mistake… This is a tango and she leads the dance.
She is a tease. Her head is covered, as if seeing her hair would be a sin… Yet she allows us a glimpse of her luxurious pearl earring and thus confirms her coquette nature…
Her lips are parted; she is waiting for a response… After all, it takes two to tango.
Do you remember your first love?… Do you remember your first kiss?… Do you remember?…
With all the hype surrounding the ongoing 2010 South African World Cup, reading Nelson Mandela’s autobiography seemed only appropriate. I began the 600 page novel on inauguration day and despite its length and heavy political themes, I found myself becoming increasingly engrossed with it as the days went by. Alas, the best things in life often haven an ending and it is with sadness and awe that I read the last page in the late hours of this afternoon.
Having just read and reviewed the Count of Monte Cristo, the themes of prison, justice and vengeance were fresh on my mind and I could not help but compare both protagonists: albeit a fictional character, Edmond Dantés and Nelson Mandela have much in common. Both are, in essence, good men whose beliefs or good deeds are rewarded with lengthy imprisonment. However, Mandela differs in that he emerges from prison with virtually no hatred for those who imprisoned him. Hence, the mass deification and formation of the “Nelson Mandela” idol.
Be not fooled, Nelson Mandela is no god; he is a flawed human, just like the rest of us. It is his circumstances and his surprising lack of hate for those responsible for his 27 years of denied liberty (his only hate was reserved for the unjust and cruel system which gave birth to such racism) which turned him into a symbol of hope for millions of South Africans.
In his own words, Mandela recalls incredible incidents of times so trying, you cannot help but wonder what compelled him and his fellow freedom fighters to keep up the fight for so long. Hope and undying faith in the righteousness of one’s cause have the power to propel ordinary men to new heights; as one of those men, Madiba teaches us a thing or two about how to face such situations with valor.
“ The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear.”
All I can say is… What a life.
“I regret now,” said he, “having helped you in your late inquiries, or having given you the information I did.”
“Why so?” inquired Dantès.
“Because it has instilled a new passion in your heart—that of vengeance.”
Where to begin my praise for the Count of Monte Cristo? Written in 1844 by Alexandre Dumas, it is often considered one of the best novels ever written and rightly so. Dumas examines in painstaking detail the extent to which an innocent man, unjustly imprisoned, will go to punish those responsible for his doom.
It is an intricate plot told in a straightforward and accessible way, which is the beauty of The Count of Monte Cristo: it is digestible literature. Alexandre Dumas’ masterpiece combines adventure, mystery, romance and the result is savory. It is not a novel to dwell upon, it is a novel to be enjoyed; stop reading this review and go read the book.