Preface
Did you know that the original meaning of demon simply meant divine power, and had no connection to evil?
Chapter 1: The Lady in Number 6
“Everyday life is beautiful. Everyday. It’s beautiful. The music is so beautiful.”- Alice Herz Sommer
I never want to be old. It’s a silly thing to say, but it’s true. I’m scared to be old. I still remember the discomfort of the first time I volunteered at a senior home. We sang Christmas carols, and played two torturous games of Bingo, and then I visited a lady who was actually quite alert and cheerful. The slowness of which people talked and walked, the eagerness of the lady who wanted me to keep her company for just a bit longer, and then a few minutes after that. I always left feeling guilty that I didn’t want to stay, but I didn’t want to stay. I dreaded the day when I can’t command my body and mind with the ease of which I do it now. Their loneliness haunted me, and I often think I would rather not live to see myself in old age.
Alice lived alone. She was 109 years old, and lives by herself in apartment number 6 of a London building. She had been the oldest Holocaust survivor, and like all others she had lost much of what she had and who she was. And then she lost even more, when her son died at the age of 64. But there was one part of her that no one could take away — her love for music. You should see the way she talks about music. It’s her obsession. It’s her religion. It’s the only thing no one could take away from her. When she could not play, she could still hear the music playing in her head, and it gave her the strength to endure everything that didn’t make sense in the world.
So Alice kept playing, and kept smiling, and lived to 110 years old. She was surrounded by friends as she loved people, but even if there were no one around, I doubt she would have lost her smile. Music was her demon, and a lovely companion it made.
“It depends on me whether life is good or not. On me. Not on life. On me.” – Alice Herz Sommer
Chapter 2: The Theory of Everything
“There should be no boundaries to human endeavor. We are all different. However bad life may seem, there is always something you can do, and succeed at. While there’s life, there is hope.” – Stephen Hawking, The Theory of Everything
Some time in high school I read The Brief History of Time at my dad’s insistence. I must confess that I remember very little of the book, but it would be difficult for anyone who has heard of Stephen Hawking to forget the man. He himself questions whether his immense popularity is due to his disability rather than his contribution to science. I would think the answer is both, and it’s his contribution despite his disability that really inspires those of us not in the science realm.
The Theory of Everything was story of Jane Wilde Hawking, the woman who supported Stephen for 25 years before their separation. I had not much interest in watching the movie, finding it odd to dive into the personal love story of a real person, especially one whose celebrity status did not arise from flaunting their personal life on TV. But I happened to chance upon the 2013 documentary Hawking narrated himself on Netflix, and was intrigued enough to watch the movie version for comparison.
I think what makes the movie touching is knowing that the story is true. Maybe not the details — the dance at the end of May Ball, the drama on the croquet field, the quiet resignation after 25 years of marriage. As outsiders, we are awed by the premise of it all — the brilliant scientist searching for a creator other than God meets the devoutly religious girl whose passion lies in poetry and literature, the devastation of his diagnosis and her incredible determination. It was a love story, but more than that, it was a story of resilience and hope. His demon was his desire to understand how our universe came into being, and hers was simply love.
“We are very very small, but we are profoundly capable of very very big things.” – Stephen Hawking
Chapter 3: The Imitation Game
“Sometimes it is the people no one imagines anything of who do the things that no one can imagine.” – Joan Clarke, The Imitation Game
Have you ever heard of the term “cumberbitch?” Well, I had not until making plans with girlfriends to see The Imitation Game, and while I am quite taken with Benedict’s many great portrayals (notably Hawking, Smaug, and Sherlock), I’m not sure I’m comfortable with voluntarily referring to myself as a “bitch,” whatever the prefix may be.
Well, Benedict was wonderful as usual in his portrayal of Alan Turing, the genius who’s considered the father of theoretical computer science. The movie is considered a historical drama, and I would say a loosely based one at that, after some digging into Alan Turing’s life on the Internets. I quite like the fact that in the movie his demon had a name. Christopher — the boy, the machine. He couldn’t talk about either of them to anyone, and it’s quite consuming to hold that much passion inside you, I would think.
Alan Turing died of cyanide poisoning, and it’s still up to debate whether it was suicide. I’d like to think it was not, he had done so much and thought there was much left to do. Perhaps life itself was also a game, and he simply got tired of playing.
“Science is a differential equation. Religion is a boundary condition.” – Alan Turing
Chapter 4: Of Love and Other Demons
“He went to the oratory, trying with all his strength to recover the god who had forsaken him, but to no avail: disbelief is more resistant than faith because it is sustained by the senses.” – Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Of Love and Other Demons
I started the book at 1:30AM, hoping a few chapters later my insomnia would be satisfied enough to leave. But like many Gabriel Garcia Marquez books it was hard to put down, even though in his usual style, I already knew how the story ends.
There is always an atmosphere of quiet resignation that hangs over Gabo’s stories, a sense of foreboding sorrow. The characters are always flawed as all humans are, and I can never quite grow to love or hate any of them. The crazy ones often see the world most clearly, the greedy ones you pity because you can see the holes in their hearts that can never be filled, and you can’t really despise the cowardly ones much more than they already despise themselves. Then there are the brave ones, who are always fighting in futility against the way of the world and to whom the Fates are never kind. I want to admire their quixotic attempts, but I can’t bear to fall in love with a character while watching them obliviously march into the tragedy that awaits them, however gallantly.
Sierva had many demons, but the one that killed her was love. Love had come and forced itself into her life even though she had been perfectly happy without it, and all the exorcisms in the world could not save her from being eaten alive by it in the end. Such is the nature of demons, they lure you with sweet temptations, then mischievously disappear. The disappearance isn’t always in malice, for demons did not become evil until the Christians got to them. They are just fickle creatures, and you never quite know what you can do to make them stay. But they are also wonderful creatures, and if you are lucky, they’ll become your lifelong companions, and there will never be a dull moment.
“One never quite stops believing, some doubt remains forever.” – Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Of Love and Other Demons
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