Not Again

What do books, stories, songs, films, music, and everything the human being does, have in common? The four lettered word, LOVE. To be honest, I can’t believe the amount of issues and things we have to say because of love. Also, how is possible that people don’t get tired of it? Songs can loose popularity and new ideas can come, but its guaranteed that no matter the time period, love will always invade our mind. And when I talk about love, I’m also including the absences of love, all the kinds of love, and just everything related to it.

I was relieved with The Crying of Lot 49 because it had laughed and used disgusting love in the first chapters. It was horrible the intercourse between Metzger and Oedipa, and very bitter and funny the way Nefastis had proposed her sexual intercourse to her while watching a Chinese program.
I know that the book is not an exception when talking about love, but at least it is not romantic and it doesn’t cry for any love repair.

Nevertheless, I was destroyed in page 91 when Thomas Psychon had to ruin the anti-romance environment by saying one single deep phrase of love. As a reader, I noticed that Thomas lost track of the rhythm he had used throughout the book, but at least he gave the line to a random tourist instead of a principal character.
Here it goes, a bomb, a flub, a great slice of cheese: “The pin I’m wearing means I’m a member of the IA. That’s Inamorati Anonymous. An inamorato is somebody in love. That’s the worst addiction of all.” (The Crying of Lot 49. Pg.91)

Reader, throwing that phrase after 90 pages of a great book is bad idea #1. Don’t do it, and contact me if you find anything that frees me for a moment about love.