Friday, 3 March 2017

Happiness for an orange is not to be an apricot

This is truly an inspiring book. There are a lot of things that moved me while reading it. The story of Catherine's illness and how she fought in order to get better, how important it is to know the history of your own family in order to understand things about yourself, what it means to belong to a tradition and to its rigors (a couple of times I clearly had the sensation of being on the set where the movie Mustang was filmed), the story of Communism and its privations within the Republic of Albania (a story I resonated with, even though I was only 6 years old when the Romanian Communism regime collapsed - people's reluctancy to change, the fear of being denounced, the eternal shame of wanting things that others have already stopped wanting, the frustration), what a community means and how it survives in a foreign country, the value but also the absurdity of traditions.
Catherine Preljocaj refuses to believe that there is not a connection between her illness and the lack of love she has been feeling all her life. Actually, this is the case of an insatiable need for love. Maybe there is an explanation within us for anything; we just have to be willing to search for it.

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