Dearest reader,
To live the life of an aesthete: that is, to submerge oneself entirely in beauty, surfacing merely to satisfy necessity…such a proposition possesses an undeniable allure. As the year progresses, and autumn’s vibrant display withers further, dulling the horizon, it is quite natural indeed for the eyes to seek visual pleasures and the ear’s tasteful song. The following is an authentic account of the various media which I have consumed as of late.
Film: ‘A Room with a View’
With the utmost sublimity, a delicious romance of England and Italy is rendered in the loveliest of tones. Commencing in the eternally delightful city of Florence, replete with artistic jewels and architectural gems, “A Room
with a View” concerns the love of two attractive young people (as is the case with a great many films). Lucy has been trained by her conventional aunt in order that she may conform to the myriad regulations of British society. George, a dashing gentleman whose maverick qualities (nontraditionalism and transcendentalism amongst them) distinguish him from Lucy’s relations. He is intrigued by this dissatisfied young woman. Naturally, life is not quite so kind as to grant them a swift marriage, for Lucy is engaged to a painfully decorous Englishman. What shall be done? That, my esteemed readers, I shall not reveal presently. In short, this is a film of good taste, the utmost refinement, and genuine charm.
Television: ‘Brideshead Revisited’
Though it is often difficult to select a single adjective which may faithfully describe a work of art, this is simply not
the case in the televised adaptation of “Brideshead Revisited,” a novel penned by British novelist Evelyn Waugh: “lovely” quite immediately enters one’s mind. Featuring a wonderfully suave Jeremy Irons, the series chronicles Charles Ryder’s vaguely romantic yet certainly fascinating relationship with Sebastian Flyte, student at Oxford, known drunkard, and resident at the opulent manor of Brideshead. The fashions are those of Gatsby and the manners those of the English aristocracy.
Music: ‘Vladimir Horowitz’
Vladimir Horowitz,’ masterful virtuoso of the past century, performs with an astounding dexterity; so grand and so elegantly phrased are his renditions one need not hesitate to deem them triumphant. Whether reciting with curious poise a toccata of Bach or a sombre march of Chopin, the latter occasionally punctuated by a resounding bolt of sonic lightning, his imposing rhythmic talents shine gloriously, further illuminating each resplendent tone. Considered “the last Romantic,” his sublime suavity inspires in one a desire to waltz, to place a rose bud in one’s suit jacket, and to anoint oneself with a scent of sandalwood and herbs.
