You describe this so well and I wish I had gone to see it. There’s a short story by Greg Jackson called The Hollow where one of the characters is obsessed with Van Gogh, I think it sums it up well: “Valente described an impossible person, a scoundrel, a tramp, difficult and gruff, prone to fighting, taking up with prostitutes, rejected by everyone, repulsive even to his parents, unlovable, homeless, driven by inexpressible love, or love that was expressible only in a particular form that did not allow it to be shared between two people, and that was therefore cursed, a love that was refused while he was alive, and only, when this cretin, this parasite, offensive to every standard of good taste, was gone, did everyone see how much they did want his peculiar, displaced, and overripe love, and the same respectable people who had found him so revolting now clutched him to their breast with the fiercest longing, because a certain intensity of color reminded them, or so Valente said in his own way, of intimations of such intensity in moments of their own that they had forgotten or suppressed.”
Hello, Gina Medcalf, Charles Hewling, and myself, Mick Blake enjoyed your refreshing review.
Thank you for saying! It means a lot
You describe this so well and I wish I had gone to see it. There’s a short story by Greg Jackson called The Hollow where one of the characters is obsessed with Van Gogh, I think it sums it up well: “Valente described an impossible person, a scoundrel, a tramp, difficult and gruff, prone to fighting, taking up with prostitutes, rejected by everyone, repulsive even to his parents, unlovable, homeless, driven by inexpressible love, or love that was expressible only in a particular form that did not allow it to be shared between two people, and that was therefore cursed, a love that was refused while he was alive, and only, when this cretin, this parasite, offensive to every standard of good taste, was gone, did everyone see how much they did want his peculiar, displaced, and overripe love, and the same respectable people who had found him so revolting now clutched him to their breast with the fiercest longing, because a certain intensity of color reminded them, or so Valente said in his own way, of intimations of such intensity in moments of their own that they had forgotten or suppressed.”
Very accurate and an important lesson. Sobering if it wasn't telling us to be less sober. I'll read it this afternoon if the library has it. Thanks!