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A Promising
Penultimacy
For the third time I have the
pleasure of writing an editorial for this
magazine and I think, since the best things
happen in threes, I should stop awhile to
consider this pleasure. Cliché would direct me
to some trite imagery of a father being well
pleased with his son, or of a sensitive artist
standing before his finest work. But cliché is
cliché precisely because it is well worn and for
this would not do. In the course of the last
three months, I have, like too few of my
countrymen, been literarily busy and from my
reading of Orhan Pamuk stays the classic love
scenario of Shirin and Husrev - a Turkish folk
story in which the perfect main characters fall
into a design of love at the first sighting each
the other’s portrait. And of course, they go to
great lengths to find each other though the
curiosity is that when they eventually do, they
do not recognize each other until their third
chance-tempted meeting. Somewhere in this
paradox lay the delightful kernel of all labors
of love; it is here that I felt sure to find the
answer to the reason for my pleasure. Now at
the end of that warren of thought, I find myself
on my unmade bed typing this editorial, I say;
the reason why we undertake labors of love is so
we can feel a sense of promising penultimacy,
not being quite sure where we are going, what
adventures lie before us, not even if we shall
recognize our dreams in fruition, yet being
convinced to our souls that all of what is to be
is inevitable and for this sake, worth it –
something glimpsed briefly and, yet, implicitly
understood. It is in this that pleasure lies.
Full
Editorial
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