A LETTERED SOUL: REFLECTIONS ON LITERATURE, CINEMA AND CULTURE .

TIME AND TIDES: OH! THEY ECHO A SYMPHONY.

The whole circuitry of birth and death, it has a certain pull and push dynamic, we all will agree; the tug of war that specifically sides with accumulated wisdom about life at different stages. A pattern ensues: the quest for survival, a dreamer's concoction in youth then the practical imitations of its spirits and great achievements of the thirties and forties, following which the permanent collection of future's silver moons strikes the fifties and the bed of mortality is cleaned and pruned for taking nimble steps at the next ultimate ascension. The grand sixties is the real test, the sedate cloth from which our fabric is cut to discard all frills and be measured in its appropriate shape. Beyond this decade, we arrive at the grand central station which prods childhood to become our other half again and the loss of vigor in movements and physical strength joins our carriage. Vitality is almost never to be forsaken then and the pendulum swings from one memory to another, to share repositories of all years spent with our feet on earth's transient theater . In this essay, I look at the pivot of mortality and living life to the hilt through the cinematic panorama of age in THE WHALES OF AUGUST(1987).

One can never be an authority on the experiences that old age brings but I believe cinema and literature give us the impetus to draw from our observations and nurture private imaginings of our own passage through time and our legacies; identify that youth, as inimitable and glamorous as it is, will extend itself to be the accompaniment of wiser years. Both are wont to be contemplated upon, sometimes in extremes and mostly as natural crowns of a lifetime. In this essay, the authority of experience guides my verbal interplay. For which young person has not thought about life half a century later and which elderly individual has not restored a glint in the eye for the forgotten spring of her/ his prime?

Life offers us all a mirror image and THE WHALES OF AUGUST, based on a play by David Berry( who tackles the screenplay too) is a beautiful token of the longevity of our existence, with its attendance of perils and pleasurable apexes.

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Since the fountainhead of birth and death has sprinkled markers for our engagement with life's flipside, I have to share some interesting aspects here. THE WHALES OF AUGUST released in 1987, few years before I was brought into this world and at the juncture where it was the final work for its illustrious core team of artistic beacons. These include BETTE DAVIS, LILLIAN GISH, ANN SOTHERN, VINCENT PRICE and director LINDSAY ANDERSON. All screen legends left earthly realm soon after filming this almost preceding ode to their mortal swansongs. You see, it's a precious circle where you never know when the past and present will come together seamlessly as a familiar unit. I had already seen this enduring work few years back and it remained with me. On multiple viewings, it made a permanent home in my mind. So this meeting of the twain and perspectives on life and age had to be covered by this young man. It's like telepathy of shared interests. I realized human concerns are universally befitting for any age and timeline . The feeling of walking in someone else's shoes doesn't remain a highbrow concept alone. After all, we only have to climb the upward spiral in terms of age and health and a work like this produces serene waves of empathy for assimilating both worlds.

Similarly, the idea of spaces literally inhabiting our personal bonds becomes of utmost primacy here as the tale is set in the sea-side bounty of Maine, USA. The summer home of two elderly sisters Sarah( Lillian Gish) and Libby( Bette Davis) is their pivot, the natural envelope of energy and zest they need to be surrounded by after seeing the rough and tumble of adulthood. It's a home in every sense and a sanctuary and refuge for them, almost like a second skin. They have retreated to this quiet utopia for half their lives so for them home is a symbol and metaphor for permanence accorded to bonds and a collective celebration of lifetime. Now the sober filmmaking technique adapted here doesn't spell out these things. But when a work possesses an inner life and has implicit images with lingering meanings, writing becomes a pursuit of ease and beauty. Emotions and associations are formed and add wonderfully to its overall effect. Another universal point is the bond of co-dependence that both sisters have maintained throughout, to the point that it is indispensible by this stage. The ritual of companionship with friends, kindred presents a portrait of unity as fresh as the first tryst, as it had been in its novelty all those years ago. The positive afterglow has persisted for them for close to a century.