The joyful and the sorrowful

I was watching "Four Weddings And A Funeral" for, probably, eleventh time over the past five years and it amazed me (again) how I reacted to Gareth's funeral... Actually, to Mathew's emotions. Because it's a romantic comedy, you know? I absolutely hate these tags but it describes the main idea of the movie - the love at first sight, the impossible relationship, the growing attraction, and finally the happy end we've all been longing for. I'm supposed to sob at touchy kisses and not so touching despair... Yet, for some reason, in this movie I can easily skip the love scenes if I can only watch Mathew's speech in front of his lover's coffin. And I think...

I think about the insane connection between our joy and sorrow. I think about the hidden side of any happiness. The shadow card. The bottom line. Flip the coin and it's all gone, it's all history... I've often been told I'm pessimistic and my life doesn't happen the way I want it because of that. I disagree. I'm ridiculously optimistic. Hey, I still believe in love for life! Recognizing the shadow is not equal to ignoring the light. One can not exist without the other. Mathew didn't forget the bright but he lived the dark to the fullest. Gareth didn't ignore the love he got but he saw the lack of love in others' lives too. "Joyful" was used so often regarding him. But I wanted to yell at the screen that death is never joyful and no one is joyful in death... I've been there, that's all. It's tearing apart. It's cutting to the bone. It's not merciful. It's not quick and sharp.  It's slow. Almost like the hand holding the knife enjoys each millimeter of flesh removed... It may be the case. Someone is operating our souls from sensitivity. It would mean Death is actually merciful. I'll have to think about it. In Tarot she is raw power. Unbiased, untouched, uninterested. In reality I find her cruel to those who least deserve it. I hope one day we'll face each other as equals. I know it is possible.

But I don't intend to analyze the movie here or sink deeper in depressive thoughts. I started the post with one intention only - to save the poem Mathew recites - Funeral Blues by W. H. Auden - here, so I can always come back and get my dose of unprecedented love when I need it. Or sorrow.


Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with the juicy bone.
Silence the pianos and, with muffled drum,
Bring out the coffin. Let the mourners come.


Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling in the sky the message: “He is dead!”
Put crepe bows around the white necks of the public doves.
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.


He was my north, my south, my east and west,
My working week and Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song.
I thought that love would last forever; I was wrong.




The stars are not wanted now; put out every one.
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun.
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can come to any good.


What scares me most? That I know what he means. I know that hole where no light exists... And still, I believe life is stronger. Light will prevail. It is darkest before dawn, there is always a ray of light on the horizon. If only one never gives up but accepts the painful fact that sometimes "forever" means precisely that.