Chapter Eight - Barry Lyndon

Frank hoped Lorrie now lived in a place where there were only windows on a ground floor level, and Lorrie said he shouldn’t worry, she now lived in a basement, but not, at least not consciously, because she ever thought she’d jump out of a window again. Lorrie’s reason was much more simple as to why she lived in a basement, the flat was cheaper, and that was that.

‘I have parts of windows in my flat, the bottom parts, but I can’t open them, the flat above me can, but not me, and so I get this odd climate that doesn’t reflect the outside world at all sometimes. I think I like that about it. It’s as though I have travelled not just downstairs to come home, but have taken a journey to somewhere beyond. I enjoy that feeling. I like the way the light streaks in, missing so much of my flat and illuminating this one spot where I like to sit and read. It makes the order of my furniture look strange because I’ve put this one chair in the middle of my living room floor where it is that the light falls. I keep books under this chair; that’s where my collection’s kept. I like natural light so when it comes in sparse it feels all the more valuable, and I know to feel happy for its presence. I remember reading about that movie, Barry Lyndon - I adore that movie. I remember reading an interview where the interviewer asked Kubrick why it was he used only natural lighting, and Kubrick said ‘Because it’s the way we see things’ and I loved that, because I really want to take things in, and really see them, and connect with them, and when I watched that movie I couldn’t take my eyes away from this man transforming before my eyes, even when I wanted to, I couldn’t, the composition of the scenes as ruled by the light led my eye to where it said to go. And so it is I can understand when people say they see a light calling to them, when they’re near death – a guiding light I guess it is. I don’t think I could refuse it, not because of faith, I want to have that, but it doesn’t stick; I just don’t think when it came down to it that I could beat a light of so much intensity and purpose - I think such a light would make me keel over with awe’

‘Does this mean you’re not scared of death?’ Frank asked

‘Of course I’m scared of death. If anything I’m more scared, well, at least based on your opinion of how scared I am. These people who say they’ve seen the bright light of what comes after this life have beaten it, just before it accepted them completely, they managed to refuse to let it completely take them, but I’m scared, so scared, because I know if I see such a brilliant light I’d be too curious and awe struck to not take that step; and maybe it’s guiding us to something wonderful, or maybe to nothing at all, but once I see that light, I know I’m never coming back, no second chances, no brilliant recovery, just gone, a thing like silence’