So as I continue to read to I’d like to nominate the following passage as the least romantic depiction of love that I’ve ever come across:
Love, she believed, should arrive all at once with thunder and lightning–a whirlwind from the skies that affects life, turns it every which way, wrests resolutions away like leaves, and plunges the entire heart into an abyss. She did not know that rain forms lakes on house terraces when the gutters are stopped up, and she remained secure in her ignorance until she suddenly discovered a crack in the wall.
Yes, Flaubert is comparing love to the aftereffects of a stopped up gutter system. I only wish that someday I meet someone and they whisper in my ear “Our love is like a poorly maintained water dispersal system.” I swoon, Gus, I swoon.
I will refrain from contextualizing this quotation because I don’t want to ruin plot points for you. As you lag behind I’m reminded of an episode of Night Court. For some reason the night courties have to get through a huge docket of cases quickly (Dan has a date with a flight attendant, Harry’s going on vacation, Bull has a macrame class…I can’t really remember). Anyway they’ve got through all but one veritably flying through the caseload when they come to the final case and the guy has some turtle disease and does everything verrrrrryyyyyyy slllllllooooooooooowwwwwwwllllllyyyy.
You are the guy with the turtle disease, when it comes to Bovary, and I will not have you ruin my chances with the stewardess (I’m Dan Fielding in this metaphor…I’m pretty sure that’s the reason they were rushing.)
I hope my inclusion of all things Night Court (as per your request) inspires you to read on…there’s much to talk about. Much much.
Adieu,
Jon
