Call Me by Your Name

Call Me by Your Name

watching Call Me by Your Name feels like tugging on a thread: not a loose string, but a knot that's just a bit too tight. something still comes undone -- or really, many things become untangled -- but with that loosening comes a sort of liberation, a sigh of both sorrow & relief.

catharsis. that's the word i want.

i think if anyone asked me anything, i'd tell them. i don't think i'm afraid to say much. what worries me, though, is the fallibility of language. touch is tactile, but words are intangible & malleable. what i say is susceptible not just to shortcoming my intended meaning, but what i say will never be enough.

to say what i want is never the same as what i actually want.
i can only imagine what would happen if desire ever transpired neatly. there will always be some sort of ruin in longing, even if the pain comes from nothing more than the object of longing's inevitable end.

so i won't say anything more than this: one of my favorite poems is René Char's "Évadné."

the poem ends,

C’était au début d’adorables années
La terre nous aimait un peu je me souviens.

which is to say the same thing as before: in every man's heart, there is a summer.

this film is about the summer when it was the beginning of delightful years,
the earth loved us a little I remember.

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