Speaking for myself, I wouldn't say the story is pretentious as so much as the delivery of it. It has left an impression on me that won't be erased. It is simply one of the most profound games I have ever played. If one can define art as creation that appeals to our emotions and minds, then Dear Esther is art. ![]() This is powerful stuff that it conveys, and it resonates deeply. People who pass Dear Esther off as pretentious miss everything that makes it meaningful. Has written of him, but who was Donnelly, who remembers him? I have painted,Ĭarved, hewn, scored into this space all that I could draw from him. Who was Jacobson, who remembers him? Donnelly Mine willīe written all across this island. I have burnt my belongings, my books, this death certificate. As he mounted that summit at long last his journey came to an end, just as yours would. Just as the narrator journeyed to this island to remember Esther, your journey is one of remembrance too: the life of the narrator is recounted and his last days are your observance. In one of his final letters, he writes of memory directly, of the relationship of those who have passed on and those that linger to remember them. The lines of the highway he remembers appear again in the sky, in the island, and in his words. In my passing, I will send news to each and every star." We will leave twin vapour trails in the air, white lines etched into these rocks. I will abandon this body and take to the air. The paint scored away from his car in lines, like an infection, making directly Natural condition, the gulls do not fly so low over the motorway and cause him to Not his fault, it was the converging lines that doomed him. He was not drunk Esther, he was not drunk at all, and it was Trajectory, the point when his heart stopped dead and all he saw was the moon over "I have scoured this stretch of motorway twenty-one times attempting to recreate his These lines parallel another sight in his memory, a sight that stuck in his mind ever since the accident: My lines are justįor this: to keep any would-be rescuers at bay. ![]() Whatever pestilence stalked the cliff paths died along with its hosts. Know to send aid or impose a cordon of protection, and wait a generation until With the right eyes you could see them from the mainland or the fishing boats and "When someone had died or was dying or was so ill they gave up what little hope theyĬould sacrifice, they cut parallel lines into the cliff, exposing the white chalk beneath. His journey is described as suicidal at times, and he says of it: About his memories he struggles to understand why Esther is gone and how she was taken from him. His letters will not find their way to her, but he dispatches them nonetheless, recounting good and bad times she experienced, even her own childhood and birth. His pilgrimage to this deserted island appears to have been a journey undertaken for the sake of remembrance. Now my stones have grown into an island and made their escape and you haveīeen rendered opaque by the car of a drunk."Įsther had died in a car crash sometime before the narrator arrived here. Was still half submerged in anaesthetic, your outline and your speech both blurred. "I had kidney stones, and you visited me in the hospital. Our empty house? Why do I still post them home to you?" Do they pile up even now on the doormat of But although I can always see it in my rear view mirror, I have as yet been Its somewhere between the turn off for Sandford and the Wellcome Break Youd think there would be marks, to serve as someĮvidence. Twenty-one times, but although I have all the reports and all the witnesses and haveĬross-referenced them within a millimetre using my ordnance survey maps, I simplyĬannot find the location. I have now driven the stretch of the M5 between Exeter and Bristol over Seatbelts cut motorway lanes into our chests and shoulders, did it first break surface ![]() ![]() Was this island formedĭuring the moment of impact when we were torn loose from our moorings and the I find myself easily slipping into the delusional state ofĪscribing purpose, deliberate motive to everything here. "The mount is clearly the focal point of this landscape it almost appears so well The narrator climbs this island himself, receiving grievous injury along the way.īut it soon becomes apparent he is here because of a recent traumatic event, something that turned his world upside down. I have reason to believe that the island of Dear Esther is physical on some level, mainly to do with the narrator's talk of others' travels, of local shepherds and of an explorer named Donnelly. The central theme in Dear Esther is remembrance.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Details
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |