[b]Stephanie Danler
You’re all terrified of young people. We remind you of what it was like to have ideals, faith, freedom. We remind you of the losses you’ve taken as you’ve grown cynical, numb, disenchanted, compromising the life you imagined.[/b]
We meaning me in particular.
That was the morning I committed the first sin of love, which was to confuse beauty and a good sound track with knowledge.
That’ll do it.
You knew what was playing at Film Forum, and you corrected anyone who lumped Godard and Truffaut together.
Me? I just know what I like.
It was Simone who used to say, on her better days, “Don’t worry, little one, none of this will leave a scratch”.
Of course at the time it’s a cut all the way down to the bone.
No, cool is fine, he said. Yes, it’s a cool place. It was much cooler seven years ago, and it was actually cool ten years ago, before I even got to the city. You see, what those kids over there"—he pointed at the empty booth—"don’t realize is that cool is always past tense. The people who lived it, who set the standards they emulate, there was no cool for them. There was just the present tense: there were bills, friendships, messy fucking, fucking boredom, a million trite decisions on how to pass the time. Self-awareness destroys it. You call something cool and you brand it. Then—poof—it’s gone.
Cool? I’ve always hated – loathed – that word myself. But point taken.
It’s an epidemic with women your age. A gross disparity between the way that they speak and the quality of thoughts that they’re having about the world.
Worse still: men of your age.