Well maybe not all the way and not in each and every aspect, but we definitely have a shared liking of little things and a resemblance in being able to notice these little things.
“I like to look for things no one else catches.” Amélie Poulain
Amélie, the movie, is a celebration of details and small pleasures. They are sprinkled throughout the narrative like potent seasoning. They make up the common thread that weaves the story’s characters together in a single tapestry. Upon first encountering a character they are defined by the narrator in terms of their likes and dislikes, which is followed by a captivating, unpredictable list. The kind that makes you the target of a random smile in search of a face, directed at some ineffable delight. A list that is brief, particular and wonderfully distinctive. Do you remember too???
“On the other hand, she enjoys all sorts of little pleasures, putting her hand in a bag of seeds, piercing the crust of crème brûlée with the tip of a spoon, and plays ducks and drakes on the Saint-Martin-Canal.
Sometimes, Amélie goes to the movies. ‘I like to turn around in the dark to see the faces of the people around. And I also like to spot the little detail nobody will ever see. But I hate the way drivers never look at the road in old American movies.”
The world of little things can pull you into its orbit as easily as a dust buster would a speck of dust. It’s likely to reprogram you to read far more into things than you thought yourself capable of, by surrendering the reins of life to imagination. As John Guare wrote in Six Degrees of Separation, “I believe the imagination is the passport that we create to help take us into the real world. I believe that imagination is merely another phrase for what is most uniquely us. “
This got me thinking about those odd little things that I like and dislike. I did not want to focus on general annoyances and irritations (of which I have a lot), but instead wanted to figure out some particularly unique things that get to me in either a positive or a negative way. So here it goes Amélie Poulain style:
“Fruzsina is a hopeful writer, a tamer of cats, and an acrobat of endless ideas, who dreams her way through life with eyes open wide. She vehemently dislikes price stickers that are not easy to remove, when people lean against a subway car pole as if it were private property, and to see strands of hair on or hanging from people’s clothes. She likes to dig her toes into warm beach sand and when a few notes in a song give you goose bumps that make all hairs stand on your arms. She likes to imagine a soundtrack playing while he walks down the street and noticing spelling mistakes in all possible form of print that has slipped through the scrutinizing gaze of copy editors and proofreaders.”