a brief history of love-- Part I

A Brief History of Love is a novel by Nicole Krauss, who is married to Jonathan Safran Foer who is also a novelist. Both of them sell a lot of copies, and are very 'hip' in the fiction world. Being on the outskirts of the world of fiction, I am well aware of their much touted hipness. Neither of them however seem like they are good ol' fashioned novelists like Ernest Hemmingway, or Fitzgerald or Faulker. They do not seem to have drinking problems, or depression, or mommy issues, or sex with bulls. They're very New York. They live on the Upper West Side and watch the Daily Show before going to bed. They probably wear socks during sex. In other words, I am not talking about Nicole Krauss in this post.

This is an introduction to the history of Marri Coen and Ari's love. I will break it down in a logical manner for you.

Freshman Year: We lived on the same hall in Clark. Marri lived down the hall from me. She used to be a jock. I used to be the foreign kid. As everyone knows (from a cursory viewing of American tv) female jocks are not friends with male foreign kids. However, Marri's sunny personality, and my innate smoothness with the ladies was made apparent by a succession of conversations that went like this;

Ari: Hey Marri
Marri: Hey Ari
Ari: How was the game?
Marri: It was ok. We lost 1-0
Ari: Again?
Marri: Sorry
Ari: Ari, Marri, Sorry
Marri: It rhymes.
Both: hahahaha...

-- some of you may not know this, but I am taking a class on writing dialogue this semester. I am doing very well in it.

--Our conversation, thusly presented above, was repeated throughout the year; it always involved Marri in a yellow towel about to take a shower. Marri is very good at taking showers. It is a speciality of hers. This process of repeating a conversation is known as 'repetition'. It is a technique much favored by novelists and film makers--look at Yossarin Yossarin, or Tora! Tora! Tora! It is a great artistic technique and is good with the critics.

It is my belief that this repetition is where the roots of our love were planted. As with architecture, any building must have a solid base to endure-- the repetition of this conversation provided the bricks on which the great Coen-Sen love affair was then erected. Get it, erected? God, not only am I romantic but also erotic. I'm number One. I'm number One.

You're a lucky lady Marri Coen. Just saying.