When I shared April Story before, I planned to revisit my first acquaintance with Shunji Iwai, "Love Letters". It just so happened that I had some free time recently, and on one night, I relived it again. The story is still so long, maybe this is the charm of the classic - often read and often new.
"Love Letters" was the first work I came into contact with Shunji Iwai and was the most impressive. I will never forget the young man behind the white curtains, the shadow of the young man, everything is so beautiful and clean.
The story begins with a yin and yang mistake, and then the dusty memories slowly overflow. Iwai once said: "The days when nothing happened in my memory are better than the days when many things happened." Memories that are almost forgotten are the most precious memories. "The youthful and ignorant crush, its beauty and throbbing, may be with it without beginning or end.
Love, what exactly is it? For Fujii Tree, perhaps love is the white curtains that flutter with the wind in the library, looming; maybe it is the light cranked by the girl in the school bicycle shed, flickering on and off; maybe it is the brilliant cherry blossoms at the school gate, dancing with the wind; or maybe it is the pure white first snow in winter in front of the girl's house, clean and pure.
Now, I seem to have some understanding of Fujii's mood, and I can figure out the angle of his pen holding, the strength of his writing, the concentration of admiration, and all the feelings are all rubbed into the three words "Fujii Tree". Love is so beautiful, so sweet. We pounce on it like moths, pursuing love at the same time as eternity. Just as we encounter a beautiful moment, we always lift our mobile phone, hoping to retain this beautiful moment and share our inner joy with others. And love is even more so, it must be as pure and immaculate as the snow of the otaru, because it is beautiful enough to have eternal preservation value.
Therefore, after Watanabe Hiroko knows her fiancé's little secret, she will be dissatisfied, she will be sad, and she will feel that "if he chooses me because I am similar to his first love, he cannot accept it, he cannot accept being a substitute for others." So many people's feelings come, they get married, the beauty fades, and they disperse. Love becomes an excuse for emotional indulgence, and love that goes along with feelings is, in a sense, a kind of narcissistic love, self-centered indulgence.
Socrates said in the "Drinking Verse": "If such a person happens to meet another person who is his other half, then they will immediately love each other, be intimate with each other, and will not be separated for a moment." They lived together all their lives, but they couldn't say what benefits each other wanted from each other. No one would believe that it was possible for them to love each other so passionately simply because of the pleasures of sharing love, and it was clear that both of them were hoping for something vaguely felt and could not say. “
So what exactly is this kind of thing?
I think that love is just a reflection in the water, and although the mirror flower and water moon are beautiful, they can never be fished out. Our love, for love, is not all about it, because we also want to find the eternal beauty behind the reflection through it. When Hiroko Watanabe shouts at the snowy mountain, "How are you?" "I'm fine." I think that by then she had reconciled with herself and perceived the beauty behind love.
Love is never a result, but a means, and getting love doesn't mean the end, it's the beginning.
When two people approach each other, each other's thorns naturally appear. No one is perfect, can not meet the full expectations of the other party, let alone let this expectation attach a marginal value. If one day he is not as cute as before, will you still love?
In my opinion, the rest of life is long, love will dissipate, the heart will be tired, but it will not hinder the love of meeting each other, even if it will be bumpy and difficult, but this possibility may be the eternal beauty that you and I pursue after love. The title page of Fujii's book "Remembrance of The Age of Water" reads: "Life is just a series of isolated moments, and by memory and fantasy, many meanings emerge, then disappear, disappear and then emerge again." I think the same goes for beauty.
I hope that everyone who has read this article has a responsible, restrained love.
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