"Pongáio" was the name my Aunt Mona gave to a long, green, cool room where we gathered at her home —
replete with comfy chairs, a rocker, sewing machine, sewing goods, beautiful beads, shelves, books, bibelots, photographs, odds'n'ends, mementos of a life, treasures —
a gathering of all the useful & 'useless' things that so make life a pleasure.

Sunday, January 19, 2014

Love: Orange and Small

This week I saw on tv two quirky movies that I enjoyed. Both comedies, but not those in-your-face overkill. Both exploring people's ideas of happines and the redeeming aspect of love. One, in a supposedly free-spirited spiritualist community in confrontation with a conservativer rural village; the other, strange and dreamlike, sad and dark, of the possible littleness of peoples' lives and the idea of personal happiness, in a rather strange and weird romantic point of view.

For me, in Sommer in Orange, dealing with a "love community", the acts of most loving kindness in the face of unknown and a different people come not from the "love" disciples, with the exception of a latecomer girl, Leela. They come rather from the mayor's wife and the mailman, in a way the "least" characters, for Lili, the young girl trying so hard to fit into the "normal" of rural village life, or perhaps, just the more ample, acute teenage desire and suffering to "fit in". The love expressed in actual actions, which takes them out of the realm of idealized modes of behaviour, whether "enlightened" or "conservative",

Sommer in Orange
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Small Apartments
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