That's great detail but what happens to Jacqueline?
Well, if I recall correctly, she was fine - at least she survived, married the loathing rich and famous Greek shipping magnate Aristotle Onassis and lived overtly happily ever after.
As the saying goes, I rather weep in a Rolls Royce than in a muddy ditch. And so did Jackie, apparently, resourceful and pragmatic as she was. Good for her.
On the other hand, there is also lots of cumlated wisdom saying the opposite like Free is a free man free of the troubles of the world and weight of gold, free like a road through desolate praire or desolate praire itself (let me elaborate this age old wisdom here). And there is also a well-known title Love over Gold as there is no doubt this one: Diamonds are forever.
So, it always depends on who writes the biography and has the sharpest pen and most penetrable and honest mind doing that demanding detective work into the abyss of another mind and life - or even into one's very own. And by the same token into the universal intricacies, complexities, conflicts and controversies characterising human life and condition.
Life is golden, sings Brett Anderson, the high pitch vocalist of the band called Suede. But we must always remind ourselves at this seductive point of score elevation and add a satrical line in brackets into the bitter-sweet tune of life an amused grin on our weather beaten faces - so are quite a few cages: Golden! Cages of emotionally and spiritually suffocating predicaments with no shortage of external shine or wealth.
So: A ditch or a backseat of a rollsroyce?
***
So, what happened to Jacqueline is a question which must leave us grasping at straws to get our lazy asses out of the ditch or then go on strolling along the golden path of independence and mud. It is a question reminiscent of the one posed by John Donne in his 17th century poem-like feverish meditations quoted by Ernest Hemingway in his 1940 war saga into the abyss of Spanish Civil War, a question bringing us before ourselves in an unforgiving crystal clear mirror. What happened to us? (For whom the bell tolls?)
Now we could continue along this literal trail and cite F. Scott Fitzgerald's Great Gatsby, The - as we inceasingly and without a further ado try to dig our ways back through the grey massive of Time into the joyful golden vein of youth giving us all we once needed.
We all are as much captivated by the fate of Citizen Kane as we are by the story of Gatsby and the life of Jackie. They are variations of the same tragic story. "Rosebud, rosebud" - these voices have been hidden under the thick heavy layers of gold, mud and rock shaping our present only waiting to be voiced again when ears don't hear anymore but souls do.
****
To return to the topic: What will happen to Jack? All work and no play makes any Jack a dull boy. So, our Jack might be lucky beyond recocgnition in that PLAY is and will be his work. It just might save him from becoming another dull boy, even more so since his playing is anything but dull, full of creative tricks, twists and surprises.
--- Eh, where were we? What brought us here?
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The curious and creative mind of Loffer, most likely. Be my guests.
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