#4 of 36: The Tragedy of Having Gods as Parents: A Review of The Chrysanthemum Palace by Bruce Wagner

The Chrysanthemum Palace by Bruce Wagner
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

The Tragedy of Having Gods as Parents: A Review of The Chrysanthemum Palace by Bruce Wagner

The main reason I got this book was because one of the main characters is called Clea. Clea is the title of one of the Alexandria Quartet books by Lawrence Durrell (I was named after one of them). I also named my daughter Clea. I was hoping that the Alexandria Quartet might be mentioned somewhere in the book. I mean, Clea is a very rare name. There might be a big chance that the author would refer to it somewhere in his book. I was not disappointed. If only for that, I was satisfied.

It took me more than a few months to start reading the book and it took me a month and a half to finish this book. It was my bathroom reading fare. The story was a bit dragging. Three spoiled brats do not not make very attractive characters. However, I could identify. After all, I grew up in the shadow of a very flamboyant beauty queen mother. I know the insecurities that come with very accomplished/ very beautiful parents.

The novel was full of pathos. However, coming from a third world country put the lives of Bertie, Thad, and Clea in perspective. How could these drug-addicted children of celebrities find despair when they are all well-fed and presented with lots of opportunities despite being has-beens? In that sense, I felt alienated. I did understand that the story revolved around the tragedy of being the progeny of gods and goddesses.

What did I enjoy? I loved the parts when Starwatch became part of the plot. It was a reference to Star Trek, of course. And that's why it was great. The story within the story was equally enthralling (or, in fact, more enthralling). I also liked the character, Miriam (a. k. a. Meerkat), Thad's agent and Bertie's lover. She seems to have been one of the most levelheaded of their bunch.

Overall, this is a reflective and somewhat depressing read. It has entertaining peeks into the glitzy Hollywood life. But don't be fooled. This book is a tragedy. Expect grandiose soliloquies and unforgiving parents who drive their children to suicide.

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You Have Been Loved

by Justine C. Tajonera

Someone else will
look into your beautiful face
and tell you that
you are loved.

But remember,
I loved you
first.

I loved every precious
inch of you,
every little smile,
every fold on your skin,
every expression on your
face.

You have been loved
through sleepless nights
when your first two teeth
sprouted,
through soiled diapers,
through your crabbiest
temper.

When time tests you,
when promises
are broken,
when disappointments
come your way,

remember that
you have been
loved.

You have been loved
for all that you are
and all that you
will be.

And everything,
everything
will be alright.


For Clea

The Act of Creation: Sestina for Clea

by Justine C. Tajonera

To make something out of nothing
is a talent and a thing of pure delight
or the joy of a poet or an artist in flight.
It is the pastime of a god or a king.
It has no rhyme or reason for being.
There are no requirements for its light.

Imagine darkness and a single point of light.
Look for a force that rises from nothing.
Think of wonderful ways of being.
Bask in a toddler’s simple delight.
Feel the force of a flock of a hundred’s flight.
It would be no less than a tribute to a king.

And what would please a wizard, a master, a king?
Who would disturb an artist’s obsession with light?
Nothing would ground a creature mid flight.
Repressing one’s heart will come to nothing.
And why would one curb what brings delight?
Why would we avoid the zenith of being?

I fear and anticipate what comes into being
when a queen finds her match in a king;
when gravity and reason confront delight.
What great thing resides between shadow and light?
What mystery unfolds from existing and nothing?
I feel the longing of the wingless for flight.

For only we who have invented the tools of flight
envy the birds their natural being.
We are never content to be fated for nothing.
We want to be no less than status of king.
We want all that is hidden to be brought to light
and we spend our lives chasing delight.

No, we are never content without our delight.
We would choose the fight over flight;
We would struggle with darkness to seek the light.
It is written in our blood, in our being,
whether born merchant or pauper or king.
We are born for seeking, stopping at nothing.

This is our delight, our song of being,
It is the dream of a king, the story of flight:
To live in the light, rising from nothing.

(Jan. 15, 2010)

Image from http://www.flickr.com/photos/bettinatizzy/3047363756/