What an elderly character in a novel who is close to death realizes
about life:

“Some days music is the only thing that makes sense to me, the only
experience that confirms what I’ve never been able to articulate even
to my closet friends. I wonder if music is the only expression of the
soul that is not hopelessly compromised in communication. I think so.
In fact, I’m quite certain of it.

Damn. I should have been a musician. Better yet, a great musician
married to another great musician, and in the mornings we would
leave scores on each others’ pillows.

That would be love, or more precisely, the pure expression of love.

I remember sitting at the symphony in Boston in 1947 and feeling
as though I were partaking in a mass seance with the crowd, the
music filling in the tremendous gaps between us until it was possible
to travel from one to another as though walking on water. Alone
in public each of us shared the most intimate and ineffable feelings,
feelings that we also shared with Handel and Mozart and
Beethoven. It felt, momentarily, as if we were all holding hands
somewhere deep inside, bound at our strongest point. When the
music stopped, all hands let go. I walked quickly out of the concert
hall, desperate to avoid conversation.

Maybe what life needs is a good SOUNDTRACK, especially during
the long stretches when nothing interesting is being said. A soundtrack
might dignify things a bit, ennobling us with the proper drama and
tension and pathos.

I stroll the hallways, shoulders back, chin up, humming softly. ‘People
stop and stare, they don’t bother me, for there’s nowhere else on
earth that I would rather be...’

Andrew Lloyed Webber and Rodgers and Hammerstein and Leonard
Bernstein and Stephen Sondheim and Alan Jay Lerner and Frederick
Loewe and Jerry Herman and Maurice Jarre to the orchestra pit
now please, Patrick is on the march. Something inspirational,
electrifying even, if you would. Thank you kindly.

If life were cast to music, I fear we might all drown in our tears.”

P. 199-200 From the acclaimed novel LOSING JULIA
by Jonathan Hull

I wonder if Mr. Hull visits our boards? He should.

Patrick’s favorite soundtrack in the novel? At night in the nursing
home, he listens to EXODUS.

[From DREAM TIME by Geoffrey O'Brien]

From POSTCARDS FROM THE EDGE by Carrie Fisher

Those are wonderful quotations by L.L. and Momoschiin. Isn’t it amazing
how well film or I should say how accurately film music captures marrow
deep emotions that we feel but are often unable to articulate. Perhaps
music is the most PRECISE communication we have.

FOLLOWUP:
up to 230; somehow that section quoted in your post had an added power, 's hard to describe; you must be a good trailer maker http://www.filmscoremonthly.com/board/smile.gif">

****************************************************************
[This message has been edited by Howard L (edited 23 July 2001).]

***********************************************************************

[This message has been edited by Howard L (edited 24 July 2001).]

I think this novel will eventually be made into a movie. The brutality
of trench warfare, knee melting love, tragedy, passion, regret, laughter,
loss...great dramatic potential for a movie. Yes, Barry would do a fine
job with the war action scenes and of course, the great love story.

**********************************************************************
[This message has been edited by Howard L (edited 26 July 2001).]