I still think of the opening lines of Guillermo del Toro's "Devil's Backbone" almost every day:
What is a ghost?
A tragedy condemned to repeat itself time & again?
An instant of pain, perhaps.
Something dead which still seems to be alive.
An emotion suspended in time,
like a blurred photograph,
like an insect trapped in amber.
The photo: my aunt Ellen. Still young. Still sane.
I don't completely know why these two things are tied together in my mind. But, it's good to see them on the page, pushed together to give her some semblance of recognition.
No comments:
Post a Comment