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A review by karieh13
If I Loved You, I Would Tell You This by Robin Black
3.0
It’s interesting…finishing a book of stories about love on Valentine’s Day. “If I Loved You, I Would Tell You This” is an interesting title as well.
Having finished it, I wouldn’t say it’s about love…but the loss of love. Or in some of the stories, the changing of love…usually into ways that are sad or disappointing.
While these stories of husbands, wives, fathers, daughters, sisters and brothers do touch on the very aspects of love that make it such an important part of most peoples lives, most of those moments are seen in retrospect. The reader does not experience any of the joy or excitement firsthand.
“He was, he is, the love of my life. He was, he is, the only possible reason a woman of my cynical nature would ever think to use a phrase like that.”
Reflection on a lover that recently died.
“So what choice did she have but to unbraid the different strands of love and learn devotion without desire again? Desire without devotion?”
On a much older husband who is starting to fade from life.
Once I reached the last few stories, I began to understand that they appeared to actually be about the affect that time has upon love. And in these stories, time is very rarely kind. It robs us of our loved ones, either by death or infirmity or with gradual lack of feeling.
“Time, she thinks. Both foe and friend. It will destroy John Parker, but it will also soon relieve him of the knowledge that he is being destroyed.”
And, “It doesn’t matter, though, she knows. It doesn’t matter what warnings there were or were not, or whether she could somehow have averted his departure had she been more aware. That is the problem with the past, she thinks, as she flicks off the light. This illusion that revisiting might change what occurred…”
These stories are full of so much feeling…but they are feelings that pull you down. That makes your heart sink lower and lower as you grieve with each new character. There is none of the lightness and joy that is such a part of loving and being loved. There isn’t a balance in this book as the reader only seems to be given the end scraps that remain after a relationship has changed or ended.
Or maybe it’s me…finishing this book on Valentine’s Day. And yet? The overall theme is that no matter who we are or who we love or how strong that love may be…
“Soon there will be only hints that we were here at all; a couple of forgotten water bottles lying on the ground, someone’s jacket crumpled beneath a tree. No traces of the cheers or the names called out loud. No lingering tension over who will win or lose.”
Having finished it, I wouldn’t say it’s about love…but the loss of love. Or in some of the stories, the changing of love…usually into ways that are sad or disappointing.
While these stories of husbands, wives, fathers, daughters, sisters and brothers do touch on the very aspects of love that make it such an important part of most peoples lives, most of those moments are seen in retrospect. The reader does not experience any of the joy or excitement firsthand.
“He was, he is, the love of my life. He was, he is, the only possible reason a woman of my cynical nature would ever think to use a phrase like that.”
Reflection on a lover that recently died.
“So what choice did she have but to unbraid the different strands of love and learn devotion without desire again? Desire without devotion?”
On a much older husband who is starting to fade from life.
Once I reached the last few stories, I began to understand that they appeared to actually be about the affect that time has upon love. And in these stories, time is very rarely kind. It robs us of our loved ones, either by death or infirmity or with gradual lack of feeling.
“Time, she thinks. Both foe and friend. It will destroy John Parker, but it will also soon relieve him of the knowledge that he is being destroyed.”
And, “It doesn’t matter, though, she knows. It doesn’t matter what warnings there were or were not, or whether she could somehow have averted his departure had she been more aware. That is the problem with the past, she thinks, as she flicks off the light. This illusion that revisiting might change what occurred…”
These stories are full of so much feeling…but they are feelings that pull you down. That makes your heart sink lower and lower as you grieve with each new character. There is none of the lightness and joy that is such a part of loving and being loved. There isn’t a balance in this book as the reader only seems to be given the end scraps that remain after a relationship has changed or ended.
Or maybe it’s me…finishing this book on Valentine’s Day. And yet? The overall theme is that no matter who we are or who we love or how strong that love may be…
“Soon there will be only hints that we were here at all; a couple of forgotten water bottles lying on the ground, someone’s jacket crumpled beneath a tree. No traces of the cheers or the names called out loud. No lingering tension over who will win or lose.”