The Lover background creation
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Rosie 2022-03-23 09:02:50
Leung Ka Fai thought he was ugly when I first saw him many years ago... I was blind then
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Alia 2022-03-20 09:02:26
Walking through a city, falling in love with someone you shouldn't fall in love with, pretending to say goodbye peacefully. Whether it is Saigon, the Indian Ocean or Paris, whether it is New Delhi, Edinburgh or Boston. After many years, the stars have changed and the old man has gone. The world is changeable and things are vicissitudes of life. But there is still a Chinese man who silently thinks about her for decades until the end of life. Lovers are not prostitutes and sluts. Lovers are just naive fantasies developed outside the world.
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[first lines]
Narrator: Very early in my life, it was too late. At eighteen it was already too late. At eighteen I aged. This aging was brutal. This aging, I saw it spread over my features, one by one. Instead of being frightened by it, I saw this aging of my face with the same sort of interest I might have taken for example in the reading of a book. That new face I kept it. It's kept the same contours, but its matter is destroyed. I have a destroyed face. Let me tell you again: I'm fifteen and a half. It's the crossing of a ferry on the Mekong.
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[last lines]
Narrator: Years after the war, after the marriages, the children, the divorces, the books, he had come to Paris with his wife. He had phoned her. He was intimidated; his voice trembled, and with the trembling it had found the accent of China again. He knew she'd begun writing books. He had also heard about the younger brother's death. He had been sad for her. And then he had no more to tell her. And then he told her - he had told her that it was as before, that he still loved her, that he would never stop loving her, that he would love her until his death.