If certain books are to be termed 'immigrant fiction,' what do we call the rest? Native fiction? Puritan fiction? This distinction doesn't agree with me.
Jhumpa LahiriRead
There were times Ruma felt closer to her mother in death than she had in life, an intimacy born simply of thinking of her so often, of missing her. But she knew that this was an illusion, a mirage, and that the distance between them was now infinite, unyielding.
Interpretation
The quote reflects the complex feelings of closeness and distance in relationships, particularly in grief.
In this poignant reflection on loss, Ruma contemplates the paradox of feeling more connected to her deceased mother than when she was alive, a feeling driven by nostalgia and longing. However, she recognizes this emotional bond as illusory, acknowledging that the finality of death creates an unbridgeable gap between them, highlighting the intricate nature of love, memory, and the passage of time.
In practice
This quote can be shared at a memorial service to express the deep connections we maintain with lost loved ones.
If certain books are to be termed 'immigrant fiction,' what do we call the rest? Native fiction? Puritan fiction? This distinction doesn't agree with me.
When I sit down to write, I don't think about writing about an idea or a given message. I just try to write a story which is hard enough.
When I am experiencing a complex story or novel, the broader planes, and also details, tend to fall away.
I think each time you start a story or novel or whatever, you are absolutely at the bottom of the ladder all over again. It doesn't matter what you've done before.
The sky was different, without color, taut and unforgiving. But the water was the most unforgiving thing, nearly black at times, cold enough, I knew, to kill me, violent enough to break me apart. The waves were immense, battering rocky beaches without sand. The farther I went, the more desolate it became, more than any place I'd been, but for this very reason the landscape drew me, claimed me as nothing had in a long time.
On the technical side, I hope that my writing is evolving and maturing, ripening, deepening.
I have seen many die, surrounded by loved ones, and their last words were ‘I love you.’ There were some who could no longer speak yet with their eyes and soft smile left behind that same healing message. I have been in rooms where those who were dying made it feel like sacred ground. (26)
If most men and women were forced to rely upon physical charm to attract lovers, their sexual lives would be not only meager but in a youth-worshiping country like America painfully brief.
But hurting ourselves to inflict pain on others is just another cry to be loved.
I realized I had been keeping people around even when deep down I knew they were bad for me. I had overridden myself.
The worst thing you can do for anyone you care about is anything that they can do on their own.
The pride that keeps us from forgiving is the same pride which keeps us from accepting forgiveness.
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