Écrire écrire sur les murs je t'aime je t'aime j'en suis sûre
I finished reading another book three days ago (four? doesn’t matter - time is so unimportant to me these days, it’s almost scary), Olivia by Dorothy Strachey. I have been wanting to read it ever since I read an excerpt from it in one or another “lesbian short stories” anthologies. (The English speaking world is fascinating in this way - it’s a big word, I guess that's why. I have four different anthologies with lesbian short stories and/or excerpts from novels. And I know that there are so many other similar books out there... but I haven’t even got one such books in Swedish, because it doesn’t exist!) That book was... what’s the word I’m looking for..? Oh, not at all badly written, but maybe not in the most wonderful style... I mean, long sentences and many words to tell very little, many exclamations and “going around in circles”. (And I can’t say that I disapprove of this entirely, because that would mean that I also condemn my own way of writing because I know that I tend to write like that! And yes, I complain of myself sometimes, but there’s not much I can do, I think, to change my style...) But the story! The book is a perfect example of something that makes me strangely uncomfortable: I recognise myself far too much.
But I’ll try to write this properly. This is the (autobiographical) story of a girl who, in late 19th century, is sent to a school in Paris at the age of sixteen. The school is run by two beautiful and charismatic ladies, Mademoiselle Julie and Mademoiselle Cara. The teachers and the girls are divided into two groups; the Julie-ites and the Cara-ites, the girls call it. Julie and Cara are obviously more than just friends, but
there’s an interesting drama going on, worthy of The L-word. They have their favourites among the (older) students and it’s not possible (I think) to tell if that always is purely platonic (Cara accuses Julie of going to one of the girl’s room at night - and Olivia does not understand what on earth she’d be doing there, but is jealous all the same - which Julie denies). And Julie has her own special friend/confidant/helper, a young Italian teacher, who loves her - and Cara’s special friend is Frau Riesener... But it is Frau Riesener who’s the bad guy here - at least that’s my opinion, I think this is the kind of book where the reader understands much more than the main character... Anyway, Olivia is soon more than a “Julie-ite”. She falls deeply in love with Mlle Julie.
And the thing is, I can’t really say whether I like the book or not. I do like it, in a way, but I don’t --- I laughed some times, not because the story was funny but because I was thinking about silly we were, Olivia and me... And I had to stop reading some times because a lot of things reminded me too much... OK, Olivia and I are different. She’s sixteen, I was twenty three when I met Claire. She doesn’t understand her feelings at all, she is confused and bewildered and doesn’t know what’s going on with her. I knew very well what was going on (at least after a while, I was in denial the first six weeks or so, didn’t want to realise that I was in love). Olivia, I read, doesn’t even know she has a body, not until Mlle Julie say that she has un joli corps (this she says because she knows Olivia gets jealous when she kisses the most beautiful girl in school on the shoulder), which I did, and what is more; I was very much aware of Claire’s body. And Olivia knows that Mlle Julie feels something for her! If Claire had only had just a little of Julie's feelings -- but no, I won't go there...
But... the way Strachey describes Olivia’s feelings... the different stages of this love... First, the discovery of the emotions, the fact that Julie is beautiful and wonderful, the exalted joy and all the silly “I wanna write her the most beautiful poetry in the world”-feelings and “how wonderful life is and how beautiful every little stone in the street”... And then happiness one feels just by looking at her or hearing her voice (Olivia listens to Mlle Julie as she reads = Claire playing the piano/singing... different situations, yes, but I could have written a lot of the pages in this novel!) and such things. And the pain when I felt that she doesn’t really care about me and all that. (Cécile is prettier/Laura is much more intelligent and worthy of Mlle Julie’s love/trust = the new girls in the choir sing a lot better, are more useful in the choir, more fun and less shy etc.......) And the joy when she smiles - maybe she likes me a little after all..? The awareness (but in Olivia’s case a more vague awareness) of that the feelings are way too deep...
I mean, it felt totally crazy. One could have thought that this kind of teacher/student book would make me think of Amelia, especially as I was in Olivia’s age when I met her, but no. The way it’s written makes it all about Claire. Except for the fact that Claire never kissed me.
(Speaking of Amelia, where is she?! I miss her. I know of course that she’s very busy, but it makes me sad to think that I haven’t heard anything from her in such a long time... I know it’s not unusual, but...)
And this is one of the most beautiful Mireille Mathieu songs: Ces instants de ma vie... one of my favourites since I got it on the fourth CD from TM, found it on YouTube today. I can’t really explain why, but this song is very “Claire” to me..! I suppose it’s because it seems to describe something close to Olivia’s and my feelings. And of course, she sings this so beautifully - I feel strongly for this song.
But I’ll try to write this properly. This is the (autobiographical) story of a girl who, in late 19th century, is sent to a school in Paris at the age of sixteen. The school is run by two beautiful and charismatic ladies, Mademoiselle Julie and Mademoiselle Cara. The teachers and the girls are divided into two groups; the Julie-ites and the Cara-ites, the girls call it. Julie and Cara are obviously more than just friends, but
there’s an interesting drama going on, worthy of The L-word. They have their favourites among the (older) students and it’s not possible (I think) to tell if that always is purely platonic (Cara accuses Julie of going to one of the girl’s room at night - and Olivia does not understand what on earth she’d be doing there, but is jealous all the same - which Julie denies). And Julie has her own special friend/confidant/helper, a young Italian teacher, who loves her - and Cara’s special friend is Frau Riesener... But it is Frau Riesener who’s the bad guy here - at least that’s my opinion, I think this is the kind of book where the reader understands much more than the main character... Anyway, Olivia is soon more than a “Julie-ite”. She falls deeply in love with Mlle Julie.
And the thing is, I can’t really say whether I like the book or not. I do like it, in a way, but I don’t --- I laughed some times, not because the story was funny but because I was thinking about silly we were, Olivia and me... And I had to stop reading some times because a lot of things reminded me too much... OK, Olivia and I are different. She’s sixteen, I was twenty three when I met Claire. She doesn’t understand her feelings at all, she is confused and bewildered and doesn’t know what’s going on with her. I knew very well what was going on (at least after a while, I was in denial the first six weeks or so, didn’t want to realise that I was in love). Olivia, I read, doesn’t even know she has a body, not until Mlle Julie say that she has un joli corps (this she says because she knows Olivia gets jealous when she kisses the most beautiful girl in school on the shoulder), which I did, and what is more; I was very much aware of Claire’s body. And Olivia knows that Mlle Julie feels something for her! If Claire had only had just a little of Julie's feelings -- but no, I won't go there...
But... the way Strachey describes Olivia’s feelings... the different stages of this love... First, the discovery of the emotions, the fact that Julie is beautiful and wonderful, the exalted joy and all the silly “I wanna write her the most beautiful poetry in the world”-feelings and “how wonderful life is and how beautiful every little stone in the street”... And then happiness one feels just by looking at her or hearing her voice (Olivia listens to Mlle Julie as she reads = Claire playing the piano/singing... different situations, yes, but I could have written a lot of the pages in this novel!) and such things. And the pain when I felt that she doesn’t really care about me and all that. (Cécile is prettier/Laura is much more intelligent and worthy of Mlle Julie’s love/trust = the new girls in the choir sing a lot better, are more useful in the choir, more fun and less shy etc.......) And the joy when she smiles - maybe she likes me a little after all..? The awareness (but in Olivia’s case a more vague awareness) of that the feelings are way too deep...
I mean, it felt totally crazy. One could have thought that this kind of teacher/student book would make me think of Amelia, especially as I was in Olivia’s age when I met her, but no. The way it’s written makes it all about Claire. Except for the fact that Claire never kissed me.
(Speaking of Amelia, where is she?! I miss her. I know of course that she’s very busy, but it makes me sad to think that I haven’t heard anything from her in such a long time... I know it’s not unusual, but...)
And this is one of the most beautiful Mireille Mathieu songs: Ces instants de ma vie... one of my favourites since I got it on the fourth CD from TM, found it on YouTube today. I can’t really explain why, but this song is very “Claire” to me..! I suppose it’s because it seems to describe something close to Olivia’s and my feelings. And of course, she sings this so beautifully - I feel strongly for this song.