Dave was always fascinated with Russian life and culture. Looking back, I can't quite tell when this fascination began. Sometimes I wonder if it was when I gave him a copy of Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment. He gobbled this book, reading it in a matter of a couple of days. He then moved on to the longer Brothers Karamazov, but never quite finished this one. I think it was due to the fact that he had his hand everywhere: trigonometry (which he taught himself), business, religion, music. He was really exhausting his cognitive limits.
I like Tchaikovsky today because Dave loved Tchaikovsky. Even now, I can't find words to describe the enigmatic focus and intensity of Swan Lake, except but to echo Rilke's definition of music: the breathing of statues. Dave was fond of the self-taught musician who rose to prominence through sheer effort and genius. He was fond of it because he saw a little of himself in that story.
Not long ago, I saw a movie called Cold Souls that reminded me of Dave in so many ways. In the movie, Paul Giamatti plays a spiritually and professionally mangled version of himself. He deems storing his soul away in something akin to a futuristic storage warehouse the only solution to his problem. However, by storing away his soul, he only finds that his problems worsen. When he tries to retrieve his soul, he learns that it has been stolen and somehow has found its way into the Russian black market, where soul-buying, thievery and trading is quite common. His journey from this point forward becomes nothing less than the search for his soul.
I wonder if Dave sought his soul in Russian life and culture. Why was having a Russian partner so imperative? So much so that he transformed his keyboard from qwerty-English to Cyrillic Russian? Why the Russian neighbor he befriended, who was perhaps his closest link in the last months? That mystery is one that Dave took with him. No one but Dave knows where his soul was at the end, or where it went.
Sometimes I also wonder if Dave played Russian roulette with his life. I wonder if he considered the odds of dying during that fateful moment. Or, like Nick in The Deer Hunter, did he simply not care? These are questions that keep me up on sleepless nights, when the howling wind gnaws at my window.
Spirit of Dave is about life, not death. However, as a blog and as an open forum for discussion, it invites these questions; it seeks to address these contemplations, even if they are solely mine. It subscribes to Socrates' essential tenet, that the unexamined life is not worth living--not just yours, but everyone's. I'll take this further, however: the unexamined soul is not worth inhabiting. I think that that is ultimately what Paul Giamatti learns in the film. It is a lesson I can only hope Dave learned.
I like Tchaikovsky today because Dave loved Tchaikovsky. Even now, I can't find words to describe the enigmatic focus and intensity of Swan Lake, except but to echo Rilke's definition of music: the breathing of statues. Dave was fond of the self-taught musician who rose to prominence through sheer effort and genius. He was fond of it because he saw a little of himself in that story.
Not long ago, I saw a movie called Cold Souls that reminded me of Dave in so many ways. In the movie, Paul Giamatti plays a spiritually and professionally mangled version of himself. He deems storing his soul away in something akin to a futuristic storage warehouse the only solution to his problem. However, by storing away his soul, he only finds that his problems worsen. When he tries to retrieve his soul, he learns that it has been stolen and somehow has found its way into the Russian black market, where soul-buying, thievery and trading is quite common. His journey from this point forward becomes nothing less than the search for his soul.
I wonder if Dave sought his soul in Russian life and culture. Why was having a Russian partner so imperative? So much so that he transformed his keyboard from qwerty-English to Cyrillic Russian? Why the Russian neighbor he befriended, who was perhaps his closest link in the last months? That mystery is one that Dave took with him. No one but Dave knows where his soul was at the end, or where it went.
Sometimes I also wonder if Dave played Russian roulette with his life. I wonder if he considered the odds of dying during that fateful moment. Or, like Nick in The Deer Hunter, did he simply not care? These are questions that keep me up on sleepless nights, when the howling wind gnaws at my window.
Spirit of Dave is about life, not death. However, as a blog and as an open forum for discussion, it invites these questions; it seeks to address these contemplations, even if they are solely mine. It subscribes to Socrates' essential tenet, that the unexamined life is not worth living--not just yours, but everyone's. I'll take this further, however: the unexamined soul is not worth inhabiting. I think that that is ultimately what Paul Giamatti learns in the film. It is a lesson I can only hope Dave learned.
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