The other day I finally managed to finish Night Train to Lisbon by Pascal Mercier, a contemporary novel about a Portuguese doctor, intellectual and aristocratic author and a Swiss old languages teacher who leaves his home to find the man who wrote the impressive text he found in a Bern book store. Completely and more and more fascinated by his way of following the stream and ways of consciousness and the truth of a soul framed by a dance of words arranged in perfect harmony...
The book is written by an utterly talented author who succeeded in writing a story which is unpredictable until the very end.
Mercier has touched different aspects here and there which made me think of a different ending, and I was almost a little disappointed when he did not call the mysterious phone number written by the lady on the forehead at last. Grrrrrr --- I do not like if there are such unsolved mysteries...
What I also really, really liked about the book was the cultural background. When I think of my interest in Portugal it mostly started in idyllic beaches where I could go for long long rides on horsebacks in the sunset with the amazing Atlantic Ocean sweeping her waves smoothly to the shore... and ended with a glass of wine in the ancient city centre of Lisbon. OK, to be fair, I forgot the beach holiday at the Algarve... I was aware that the Spanish neighbors have been oppressed by that dictator called Franco, yes. But that there was a similar situation in Portugal with a massive movement of resistance, that I did not know...
I am mostly drawn to (contemporary written) books which "play" - I should actually say "live" , but I do not want to sound too pathetic, in the Anglo Saxion world, or France maybe, but apart from the books by Zafon which are set in Barcelona I cannot - and I know that it is very poor remember any other story set in Iberia.
The story made me want to travel to Lisbon immediately, to look if I might find the blue house, and the antiques shop, and the pharmacy (yes, now I am being pathetic, but that's how I am - a little bit I guess) and walk through the busy streets ordered like a chess board and enjoy the atmosphere of past glory. And play chess with the old guy in the nursing home (Errr, if I COULD play chess of course, always wanted to learn!!) and drink coffees and teas with the lady doctor, and with the sister of Amadeu de Prado. And also ask them so many things. And I would like to meat Gregorius, aka Mundus, aka Papyrus. And I would ask him to show me the pictures he took. And ask him how he felt when he tried to feel how Amadeu had felt. And how he exactly felt when he left Lisbon. When I was very young I had the same experiences, very often. I contemplated how it must feel when I was not me but girl x. Who had an own pony, and the parents had a cute dog. And how it must feel when I could go out to ride my pony every day, not only once a week. And how it feels when I go home with her parents, not with mine, and that I would perhaps miss my parents then, but in the next minute I realized of course that they were not my parents, that they were not at all connected to me. That I had no emotion with them - that they were just the parents of girl y (my actual me, which I would not be at that moment,because I was my x me.) And it kept me busy how it must feel to look at my actual me, and would I look at my real me and thinking that that me is exactly like my y me sees it? Does that correspond? I was mostly busy with these kind of thoughts which I could have never ever put into words when I was around 7. I wonder if I would have talked about what has kept me busy if the other children had the same? I think so. Why then did we never talk about it? Why did we just play Barbie?
Anyways it was really nice to read a book which is explaining similar strings of thoughts as I so often had myself. Still have. Whoops, I am at the airport, have to wait, and I see this elegant business woman with the perfect hair and suit and the very expensive handbag. How would it feel being her instead of my bookish me with only trouble in my life right now. Oh I would probably like to swap. Mmmh, she will perhaps checking into the flight to New York. To have to attend a business meeting tomorrow morning. Will she have enough sleep in the airplane? Maybe not. I do not like to sleep anywhere else than in a bed. I can sleep but I do not feel refreshed after sleeping in an airplane. Me alias her will feel mediocre. Waking up. Quick shower. This me will perhaps take a bit more time to get this accurate hair thing done. But it will be easy to choose a perfect outfit. I would feel stressed and wish I'd had a small dog I could take out for a walk to relax and prepare the day in my thoughts.... And I would go to work completely in my thoughts, I would have no eye for the city I have never seen in my life, it would just pass by, be a by-element, a substitute for the Londons and Zurichs and Frankfurts and Singapores I would go often as well. I would wake up in the morning without quite knowing were I am and check my agenda for the location of the meeting. Anyways, my life would be busy, superficial, I would have no time and no interest in the true beauty of the places I am going....
Or when I see that other lady sitting there. She looks a little bit tired. Now I see the kid which is sitting next to her playing with her doll. She seems to be not from here and has difficulties with the local language. She is asking somebody next to her if it was her flight already where they were calling for boarding. She is sitting at the gate to Buenos Aires. Spanish. She looks worried. If this was me, how bad would I rate my worries? Would I have the same rating of worries as I have in my real me? Would the Argentinian me also would be annoyed by dirty toilets, by people being late, closed supermarkets on Sundays or rude drivers on the road? Perhaps I would laugh about me.......
Back to my own me I decided that I need to go to Lisbon asap. Really!
Until that time I will dream of a ticket to ride and of wines and coffees and teas in the ancient city of the Portuguese capital!
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