Sunday, April 26, 2015

Sympathy for the Desire




Upon reading some of the comments in the discussion forum,  I found myself wondering why people spewed such vile words against Blanche.  Of course, Blanche lived in her fantasy of a life where she was the young debutante with a line of suitors waiting to marry her,  and her affair with a student is ostentatious to say the least, but I can’t help but feel the loss within her tainted soul that caused her to become a woman afraid of aging.

If someone has never lost a significant person in their lives, and felt the empty cold grasp on their shoulder with every memory, they can’t understand Blanche. She is not a character who created cruel choices, but the reaction of desperate circumstances. Simply, death changes you. Seeing someone who you once talked to, cared for, and love become a breathless corpse alters the characteristics you would have had if you never saw it. I am not talking about going to a funeral, but seeing the “soul” leave the body, as it were. Physically watching that, or even watching someone come to the brink of it, changes your perspective on life. Maybe I have sympathy for the devil, or maybe I have seen more than I care to admit, but try watching this clip again until you feel her hollow heart reaching for some sort of comfort to fill an inescapable void. 

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