Essays About Impossible Dreams

Of course, now my coaches wish I weren’t quite so kind on the basketball court.When people playfully make fun of my height, I laugh at myself too.On my first day of high school, a girl dropped her books in a busy hallway.

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That there was no heat in the flooded building and they had rejected everything and had gone home early. Those were the facts — no opinions, no emotions I could translate into ink on a page, touch, understand. I sat at my computer with my fingers on the keys, shaking, sweating, smudging, but there was nothing to say.

Everyone went to the memorial service and everyone brought flowers, and in the silence, we cried.

As such, the book aims less at offering some kind of overview of representations of romantic love in European film, although this emerges as a strand within the collection, and more at a mapping or triangulation of what each of these three terms may have to complement the others.

What is particularly invigorating from a film studies perspective is the way that such an approach takes the term ‘Europe’ – which has been of recurrent interest and interrogation for studies considering such issues as (trans)national cinema, (film) history, stylistics, and the globalised politics of production, distribution, and exhibition – and places it alongside ‘love’.

, edited by Luisa Passerini, Jo Labanyi, and Karen Diehl (Bristol: Intellect, 2012), offers an intriguing and provocative encounter between three concepts – ‘Europe’, ‘love’ and ‘cinema’ – which may not initially seem to have that much in common, at least in the field of film studies.

Initially, I could envisage ways of considering the relationship between love and cinema through, for example, studies of romantic comedies.Or rather, I was gathering the necessary stamina for our church’s annual pie sale.Ten hours of rolling crusts and peeling apples and kneading butter and sugar into the crumble topping, all the while drowning in the cinnamon air, surrounded by near-literal mountains of pies that we were forbidden to touch.I knew the meeting had been pushed back twice already by an unsympathetic hurricane that had left downtown Manhattan under several feet of water. I had found an agent who hadn’t run away when I finally told her that I was 15, who loved my story almost as much as I did, who submitted it and lured two — Phone call from my agent. A classmate, a car out of control, a crash into a tree.Sweaty palms and dizziness, a tap of a shaking finger to a smudged screen. A sigh and, at last, the news, that the publisher had a similar novel on her list and vetoed the editors. We used to have gym together, I didn’t know him too well, and I never would.However, when I reflect on my life, I realize that my height has shaped my character in many ways and has helped to define the person I am.If I had the introverted personality my older brother had in high school, I’d probably be overwhelmed by the constant public attention.Of course, the relationship between Europe and cinema has been the object of much historical, stylistic, and political analysis.However, I struggled to see how the three terms could be forced together and what, if anything, love stories on film set within European spaces could demonstrate that would not pertain elsewhere.If discussed at all love has tended to be considered in studies of affect, emotion, grief, and loss (for an excellent example of the former see by Emma Wilson [Houndmills: Palgrave, 2012]), so the approach allows for a methodological meeting point.It is through allowing each term space to breathe that we can come to a chapter such as the remarkable personal account by Thomas Elsaesser which opens the book.

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