There was a statement made in a scriptwriting handout from drama that my brain specially remembered:
"There is an immediacy about theatre. The audience has to watch. Something is happening now and it cannot be missed."
This ' in-the-moment' magical quality of theatre is something that can't be found in movies or books... or so I thought.
But Fitzgerald, in This Side of Paradise, in the chapter 'Babes in Arms', was so tinglingly momentous and 'now' that I was scared and thrilled by the possibility of it running away from my eyes as I read.
It was about the romantic tension between Isabelle, the Popular daughter, and Amory Blaine. The clean, crispness of the night an the tremling, flighty feelings of fear in the reveral of power roles and possibility, exhilarated me. I was agraid I would miss it. I wanted to laugh out loud at how perfectly real it all seemed, but I couldn't give the pure moment an oppertunity to escape.
It was beautiful, and felt so inevitable. By my emotions were Isabells's - up, up, racing heart, must, must, will, shall I? It was sickening, anxious, hungry. Amory's impatience, the interruption by the party, the smashing of the moment and its oppertunities, possibilities and passion turning off with the switching on of the light. It was so rare and exhilarating and momentous. My poundig pulse cooled with curiosity that I should ever know his kiss.
What an experience!