My Old Lady - Tales from an Affair
In the movie, My Old Lady (2014), a man who inherits a Parisian apartment from his estranged father is shocked to discover that the apartment is a viager - an ancient French real estate system with complex rules pertaining to its resale - and the feisty Englishwoman who has lived in the apartment with her daughter for many years is the live-in tenant, who must be paid rent until her demise.
As the plot thickens and he discovers more about the apartment his father owned and left for him, he finds old photographs inscribed with "my only love" which depict the live-in tenant and his father from a younger age. When he confronts the old lady he soon discovers that the one reason his dad had taken on this viager apartment was to provide a permanent home for his love, the old feisty Englishwoman. His father had spent his summers in Paris in the home and they had carried on this affair for a great many years.
I don't know why this movie I watched quite casually during my unemployment phase, suddenly came to me last night. Well, I do know why. I am just glad that it came to me. It was one of those European sensory alternative love stories that underlie main plot lines that are not plausible in real life. Or are they?
The main character's dad carried on this affair so intently, without leaving his wife, so much so, the sadness that this instilled in his wife caused her to commit suicide. She probably felt there was no point living with a man who would rather give his love and devotion outside the marriage.
To my head and to my heart, I would like to say, "I wish I knew what to do."
I respond to tales of love in unconventional spaces like these. Perhaps because I lean towards an alternative somewhat bohemian lifestyle, or I just watch way too many foreign movies...but unconventional love stories like these give me hope, reason to believe that love wherever you may find it is available, and you should never discard it because it doesn't show up wrapped up in a bow.
I don't think this one is wrapped in a bow.
....Excerpts from my book, Notes to a Negro...
