Sometimes Love is in a Different Language

I watched Aimee & Jaguar the other day. I've seen it before but for some reason or other, this second viewing was much more affecting. The film, set against the backdrop of a falling Berlin in 1944, tells the story of the beautiful but horribly doomed love affair between the wife of a German soldier (Lily; nicknamed Aimee) and a secretly Jewish secretary working for a Nazi newspaper (Felice; the enigmatic Jaguar). Felice also helps with the Resistance movement - a dangerously precarious life as you can imagine. Exciting times, as she poignantly puts it. She meets the lonely, romance craving, short-sighted housewife Lily at a concert-hall, but it's a brief and impression-less meeting as far as Lily is concerned. Felice however becomes fascinated and as fate would have it, they meet again and become better acquainted - both a little more intrigued by the other, both craving for a chronically absent sense of security. And despite the bombs and the fear, they fall quite helplessly in love.

It's a case of where bombs fall, may love flourish. And despite the impending tragedy, they remain honest human beings who eventually pay the ultimate price for a taste of happiness when happiness was as rare as a food ration card.

The story is beautifully told. It's an affecting tale that's bound to remind us that love comes when it is least expected, or wanted. Juliane Kohler and Maria Schrader, who play Lily and Felice respectively, deliver one of the best performances I have ever seen. In German, no less.

Through the doors of the Sublime Porte

Istanbul's been on my mind: I've been thinking about the Byzantines, the Ottomans and the Bosphorus. I've been emersed in its history, its very rich and vibrant history. Its buildings, morning light across the Golden Horn. I've been reading John Freely's Istanbul: The Imperial City, and I highly recommend it. It's very well written and full of pictures (miniatures, photographs) for the visually inclined. He alludes to many of the great classical works about and from Istanbul. I was particularly drawn to Elivya, a religious scholar who was attached to Sultan Murat I and his court. An extract of a procession is as follows:

"All these guilds pass in wagons or on foot, with the instuments of their handicraft, and are busy with great noise at their work. The Carpenters prepare wooden houses, the Builders rasie walls, the Woodcutters pass with loads of trees, the Sawyers pass sawing them, the Masons whiten their shops, the Chalk-Makers crunch chalk and whiten their faces, playing a thousand tricks... The Toy-Makers of Eyup exhibit on wagons a thousand rifles and toys for children to play with."

Another place, another time. Take a walk through these doors once in a while, even if it's all just in your imagination.




Ah to be an illuminator at the palace!