The themes of unhappy love and self sacrifice in casablanca

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The themes of unhappy love and self sacrifice in casablanca

As a young woman she emigrated to England, and has lived there since Returning to New Zealand regularly to see extended family, Adcock has also revisited the question of the relationship between personal identity, place and memory from many angles in her extensive body of poetry. She has published many collections, including Poems —Dragon TalkGlass Wings and most recently, Hoard Her extensive subject arc stretches from romantic celebrations of landscape, to familial love and sexual desire; from both witty — and unsettling — examinations of heterosexual relationships, to ecological concerns, the fine arts and politics.

The themes of unhappy love and self sacrifice in casablanca

The first time I interviewed Fleur Adcock was in the mids, in person, over a rehabilitating coffee in her East Finchley home. I was a young PhD candidate at University College, London; my research was focused on the treatment of expatriation and back-migration in the fiction and poetry of Katherine Mansfield, Robin Hyde, Janet Frame, and Fleur Adcock herself.

After weeks of compiling interview questions, before even appearing on her doorstep, I was already a mixture of excitement and hot-running fear: We had organised the meeting by letter.

A minicab driver saved us; he saw a small twister of black smoke spilling from a second-storey window. Police on a regular beat noticed him pulled up at the curb and thought he must be cruising for prostitutes who worked our street. The police tried to batter down the front door before my husband managed to work the deadlock; and they got all the occupants out, even the neighbour and good friend blissfully comatose on weekend booze.

We spent hours huddled on the freezing, mid-winter, midnight footpath. Bizarre scenes from the night of standing shivering on the footpath still strobed in my head. They included a prostitute soliciting one of the firemen while he was still mid-duty.

The themes of unhappy love and self sacrifice in casablanca

Poised, elegant, thoughtful, she read poems and answered questions with a combination of physical grace, verbal composure and a somehow sceptical air that, to a halting adolescent, were naturally daunting. It seemed the house fire had burnt away any nacre of sophistication I might have built up since then.

Jemimah Kuhfeld Fleur made strong coffee; she sat me down; she let me babble my way through an explanation of why I was babbling. And she also accepted when I said, actually, having a focus might help to ground me.

She was calmingly, warmly generous with her time and attention. I knew how to do this. Poetry and art, after all, often spring from just these sorts of psychological breaks and revelations: Much of what drew me to her work was its treatment of issues of home and belonging, versus a feeling of temporary, ill-fitting residence; and the honesty, skilfully honed, about sometimes-fraught personal territory.


The experience of being an outsider in California barely lasted a few weeks; it was a place used to immigrants and expatriates. My first friend there was an Iranian girl whose family were also new to San Diego; my parents made good friends with various other expatriate families.

Inchoate, turbulent, self-contradictory, dangerous-to-articulate emotions triggered by the expatriation then repatriation, coloured some difficult pre-teen years, and permanently transformed my sense of natal place and interior world.

My own sense of displacement had its origins in many things: My raincoat was slashed with scissors by one girl, for example; I was called bitch and slut for talking to a boy; there was more, but that gives you the flavour.

I also never quite felt I caught up on certain aspects of the syllabus: Her often sly, perceptive, layered tone of irony — sometimes self-corrective, often slippery — is a powerful articulation in itself of this sense of exile or division.

The project of compiling your Poems — must have been a huge undertaking, a process of filtering, discarding and arranging.

How did it make you reflect on your literary career up to that point? How has it affected your subsequent writing? Was it a kind of taking stock, clearing a fresh space, or did it bring back ghosts? Did it make you need a period of silence, or did it seed a new direction in your practice?

How do you look back at your past collections now?

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No, the process of filtering and arranging the contents of each individual collection had taken place over the years, but the collected volume involved no editorial process on my part: Neil Astley, the editor and founder of Bloodaxe Books, had already published my translations from Medieval Latin and three of my pamphlets Below Loughrigg, Hotspur and Meeting the Cometand was keen to get me on his list.

However, I had an agreement with OUP to offer them first refusal of all my new collections of poems they were not interested in pamphlets or parallel-text translations. Neil had been waiting for years for OUP to do something so appalling that I finally had to break ties with them.

Although I was always on the best of terms with my successive OUP editors, people in the production and distribution departments were given to infuriating mistakes, and in my later years with them I was always threatening to leave.

As it turned out, in the end none of us left of our own accord: This released us from our commitment to them, and we all trooped off to other publishers. Once I had reclaimed the copyrights of my earlier volumes from OUP and handed them over to Bloodaxe, all Neil had to do was scan the contents of my existing collections, add a short file of new work, and do a bit of copy-editing.

He was naturally anxious that Bloodaxe should be in possession of all my work up to that date, but neither he nor I saw the need for a great reorganisation of it.Dec 03,  · The outcome [of this phenomenological personalism] is a shift from the virtue of love to the passion of love [a concupiscible passion], from supernatural love to natural love, and in the final analysis from sanctity to sexuality.

Thus Casablanca presents a different view of love of the beautiful than does The English Patient: Rick's love of Ilsa must be understood in the context of a deeper lover of the beautiful -- a lover of the beautiful deed, one serving a noble cause.

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In the end, it's about love and sacrifice. Some of the actors were actual refugees from Nazi-occupied countries. "Casablanca" remains one of the most romantic films of all time. "La terra e dura qui." Ingrid Bergman is a powerhouse in this film (perhaps out of love and devotion to the director), but she still can't match the power of the menacing volcano on .

Clear distinction between good and evil with positive themes of friendship, bravery, honor, sacrifice and overcoming temptation as well as redemption.

Based upon the literary classic by J. R. R. Tolkien. Jun 30,  · On the Vigil of Saints Peter and Paul, love for the Church of Rome sanctified by their blood. "You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church" (Mt ) are the weighty, great and solemn words that Jesus speaks to Simon, son of John, after his profession of faith.

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