Why The Romantic Movement will make you feel less alone

The Romantic Movement by Alain de Botton (1994)

When I started reading this book, my first thought was, haven't I read this before? It turns out I had, only instead of The Romantic Movement it was called On Love, and instead of Alice and Eric it was Chloe and the unnamed narrator. In both cases, de Botton writes with exquisite detail and insight describing the rise and fall of a relationship. The genius of de Botton is his accessibility; in both books the reader is sure to recognize himself or herself in the characters, again and again. The interesting thing about The Romantic Movement is that it is told from the woman's point of view, which leads me to wonder how exactly de Botton manages to be so spot on in his description of a quirkily neurotic, cultured and intelligent yet insecure, and loveable yet mostly unlucky in love woman. How could de Botton, as a man, possibly understand what it's like to be a woman waiting for a man to call her back, or how it feels to have one's attentions rebuffed by a distracted and remote control-wielding boyfriend? And yet he does, somehow, delving so adeptly into the female psyche that it leads me to wonder if men have been playing the bumbling male card for centuries now, when actually they know exactly what they're doing. Perhaps, and this is just a theory, but perhaps they are not the clueless apes they are sometimes made out to be. Perhaps they know exactly how it makes us feel when they don't call, or when they cancel plans at the last minute to hang out with the guys, or when they flirt with the waitress. Perhaps they know, and they do it anyway. Or maybe de Botton is possessed with writerly insights and male intuition above and beyond those of the average man. The world may never know.

De Botton peppers his prose with insights from philosophers, artists and writers from throughout the ages, mostly French (bien sûr), with names dropping off of every page: from Oscar Wilde to Andy Warhol, Plato to Proust, and Rousseau to Rimbaud, with a smattering of Descartes and a healthy helping of Flaubert for good measure. You don't have to be an expert on Greek mythology, German philosophy, pop art or 19th century French literature to enjoy this book. But having at least a passing knowledge does help. If, like me, you've spent the last two years in a grad school literature program, spending day after day in lectures where it's all "Hegel this" and "Schopenhauer that," then de Botton's style will sound completely normal to you. If not, then he may come off as a bit, and I'm just guessing here, but possibly maybe a bit pretentious. In fact, I'm imagining what it would be like to go on a date with him, and I'm thinking it would go a little something like this: "Mmm...this burrito is so good, it's like Plato's perfect ideal of a burrito. It's like...it's like Proust's madeleines, I'm suddenly overwhelmed with childhood memories of sitting in our local burrito shop and eating burritos with my mother. And yet for Emma Bovary, this burrito would represent the exoticism and romance of the cosmopolitan existence that she always yearned for and was ultimately never able to attain." And I would smile and nod politely, thinking, "Just eat the damn burrito so I can go home and blog about you, you cheapskate. Burritos indeed." On the plus side, de Botton's is a sort of philosophy lite, mostly accessible to the lay person, and punctuated with bursts of irreverance, like in this gem where he refers to Hegel as "ultimately only a most average thinker possessed of two or three good ideas and an atrocious inability to express himself." Which gives us a point of reference for this book: de Botton borrows the good ideas of great thinkers and rewrites them with an eloquence that creates an impression of ingenuity. The themes unearthed in this book are nothing new, but the way de Botton writes about them is.

In addition to the exstasies and agonies of relationships, there is also an entire chapter dedicated to travel, hinting at his 2002 book The Art of Travel (packed in my carry-on as we speak), and perhaps lending weight to the impression that if you've read one Alain de Botton book you've read 'em all. I suspect that this may be an injustice, but as it stands I haven't read enough of his works to decide. I plan to fix that, though, working my way through The Art of Travel and following that with How Proust Can Change Your Life. While I run the risk of it being more of the same, I hope and suspect I'll be pleasantly surprised. I've got de Botton in my veins and I'm craving more.

You should read The Romantic Movement if you've ever been in a relationship that failed. (And if you haven't, I don't even want to talk to you. What are you doing here, anyway?) You should read it if you've ever mentally picked someone apart and are fascinated by what makes people tick. You should read it if you've ever sat around wondering why he or she didn't call. This book may not answer your questions, but it will make you feel less alone, knowing that other people are wondering about exactly the same things.

So how about you? Does this sound like something you would read, or would you not touch it with a 10-foot pole?

Why Gone will break your heart

Gone Baby Gone
I wanted to write about this movie while it's still somewhat fresh in my mind, though I have a feeling it's one of those that will continue to be with me for quite a while. This movie is truly heartbreaking, which I always feel is a good thing. Any movie that can make you feel something that deeply, feel anything that deeply, has got to be worth the price of admission.

This movie hit a bit close to home for me. There's the fact that it takes place in Boston, of course, and my bus, the good old 47, the same bus I take to school every day (or used to) makes a cameo twice. Granted, I get off well before it continues on to South Boston, and I am generally nowhere near the neighborhoods pictured in this movie. But all the same, I recognize those places, I recognize those people. I was a Big Sister to an eight-year-old girl for a year and a half, and while she lived in Malden and not in Dorchester, I could see the same themes reflected in this movie; the same cycles of single parenthood, of drugs and neglect.

This movie is heartbreaking for all of these reasons, and for the moral and ethical questions it raises. It presents a system that is deeply flawed without offering any solutions. I recommend this movie to everyone with the stomach for it, to anyone with the ability to see the good in the bad, because otherwise it can be quite overwhelming.

That being said, this movie is good for all the typical reasons as well. It combines all the best elements from your favorite action/adventure movies, police films, and good old fashioned, sensitive, deep-thinking dramas, and packs enough plot twists to keep you on the edge of your seat for the full 114 minutes. Casey Affleck is amazing in his role (and having already professed my undying love for Ryan Gosling I might as well admit that, fine, I'm a sucker for a pretty face, so sue me). I've loved Casey Affleck ever since 200 Cigarettes, a movie no one seems to have heard of, but which turned me on forever to guys in eyeliner, kilts, and combat boots. In Gone Baby Gone Casey proves he's not just eye candy, presenting a portrait of a man caught in the middle of something he can't get out of, for no other reason than he can't let it go. His character is stubborn and yet conflicted, with a deeply ingrained sense of absolute right and wrong. Michelle Monaghan, who plays his girlfriend, provides an interesting foil to his character, allowing the audience to identify with both sides of a contentious and highly divisive issue. Her character, Angie Gennaro, quite frankly kicks ass, unflinchingly facing situations that would have me peeing my pants in terror, and she shoots 'em up with the best of them. And yet, at certain points in the film she reveals a side that is staunchly and beautifully feminine.

I love this film for its heart, for its accurate and gritty portrayal of real people and real places that aren't often seen in Hollywood. And I particularly love it for the very important questions it raises. I was left questioning the nature of morality and the existence of an absolute right and wrong, and even the very idea of what constitutes a happy ending.

Have you seen it? What did you think?

Why are all the good guys already in love with anatomically correct dolls?

I'd like to do something new today, something I've never done before around here. You may have noticed the sidebar, where I keep track of what I'm currently reading, watching, and listening to. And this is all well and good, of course, but occasionally I come across something, a book or a movie or an album, that really touches me in some way. And sometimes I have a lot to say about this particular thing that touched me, but until now I've had to channel that energy into papers on the medieval chansons de geste, or lessons on the partitive, or correcting sixteen essays titled "Mon restaurant préféré." But now that the paper-writing is over (forever!!!!) I find myself languishing, in a way, now that I don't have to write fives pages double-spaced a day in order to make a deadline. And so, I've given myself an assignment, if you will, to fill this new void in my life, and I'm going to call it Rachel's Raves (and no, there will be no glow sticks involved). The terms of this assignment being as follows: whenever I come across a movie, book, or album that floats my boat, tickles my fancy, or what have you, I promise to tell you about it. I will carefully and thoughtfully lay out my arguments, and in return, you will tell me what you think of it, either based on your own personal experience or on my review. You can even grade me if you want, just to keep that academic flavor that I am sure to miss. (Just be nice, and remember, grad students don't like B's). I hope you'll even share some raves of your own (and some rants too, if you insist on being contrary). I think a good time will be had by all. And so, without further ado, I present to you my first rave:

Lars and the Real Girl
Ok, so superficially this film is about a mentally ill man who falls in love with a sex doll he buys over the internet. I hestitate to mention that first thing, knowing it might drive people away, as it presents a sort of slapstick, Weekend at Bernie's-type image, which is not at all the case. This movie is not about that. This is a quietly soulful movie with heart. You may not laugh out loud, and you may not cry actual drippy tears (though I did), but it will keep you smiling throughout, even as your eyes well up and threaten to spill over. A touching movie about loneliness, community, and family, it's guaranteed to make you want to pick up and move to a remote Canadian village, volunteer in a hospital, and go to church every Sunday.

I loved Ryan Gosling in Half Nelson, and his complete 180 degree departure from that role in this film just attests to his brilliance as an actor. He plays Lars with sensitivity and humor and real affection. (Watch the special features on the dvd to hear how he prepared for his role). Emily Mortimer also gives a brilliant performance; it's obvious how much all the actors in this film truly love their characters, which only makes sense- the characters are so damn loveable. (Possibly too loveable, as I was left thinking, now where can I find a painfully shy, mustachioed, beige sweater-wearing, possibly delusional man of my own?)

So, have you seen this movie? If not, would you see it now, after reading this? Have any movies of your own to rave about? Do share. I have a Netflix account and eighteen days (and counting) of nothing better to do.