[Analytical Commentary] Love In The Time Of Cholera (2007)

Love Or Obsession? Was This Really A Love Story?

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I am obliged to begin by saying I thoroughly enjoyed this movie, it succeeds in delivering that 1870s-1930s feel, the time period the plot of the book is set in. It also — mercifully — lacks the digitized super crisp effect prevalent in most movies of the 2020s.

I am obliged to state my favorable impression of the movie this early on because my subsequent comments may give off an alternate impression. And it is not my wish to put anyone off this wonderful piece of art.

Spoilers Ahead!

Recap

Love In The Time Of Cholera (LITTOC), is a romance-drama featuring Javier Bardem in the role of Florentino Ariza — a character who deserves to have his epic recorded alongside the annals of Casanova, Don Juan, and Lothario.

Diagnosed by his uncle having the same kind of “love madness” that his late father had, what is more jaw dropping than the sheer volume of this romantic exploits — 624 — is how long he waited to be reunited with his first love (his hatsukoi, as the Japanese would say) — 53 years, 7 months, 11 days and nights — yes, he counted.

Florentino, is first pierced by Cupid’s bow of madness in his teens. He falls for Fermina Daza (played by the excellent Giovanna Mezzogiorno) — she is a motherless, single child of a wealthy, patriarchal mule trader. And as quickly as the fuse of a firecracker launches a rocket into the sky, the two fall in love.

“Mama, I have discovered the reason for my existence,” Florentino says at one point. Puppy love eh? Unfortunately for him however, his prospective father-in-law does not share his sentiment, no doubt owing to both Fermina’s youth (around 13 years old) and Florentino’s (around 17 or 18 years old) lack of financial means (he works as a telegraph clerk).

Their secret romance is ripped from the shadows into the light when her father (Lorenzo Daza) discovers her love letters, and Fermina is rewarded for the insolence of falling in love with: a considerable amount of abuse, having her aunt (her one source of maternal affection) banished from her life, and the whole household being uprooted across the sea. Quite traumatic for a 13 year old by any account.

Mr. Daza believes — rightly I think— that Fermina is too young to be married and that this “love” she feels is just an illusion, and during the time she spends away from Florentino, she comes to — or rather makes herself come to believe that, “It was just an illusion.” A belief she carries into her 70s.

All the while she is away, Florentino awaits her return — often atop lighthouses, “will[ing] her back to [himself],” a scene very reminiscent of John Thornton’s own “Look back at me!”

Whether by his will or by the mercy of fate, she does return, now a young woman in her 20s. Florentino is overjoyed, believing they can finally be married now. They do not. Fermina breaks up with him. As I said — she believes that it was all an “illusion.”

Despite what may appear as a heartless or pragmatic decision on her end, what is most palpable in this scene is the abject terror in her eyes as she breaks up with Florentino.

It is obvious — at least to the audience — that she still carries a great deal of trauma from the consequences of her father’s abuse and violence the first time he discovered their romance.

Her decision is understandable when considered from the view that while she and Florentino shared their love for each other, how they experienced that love was vastly different owing to the differences in their respective social class and gender.

We know what Fermina suffered when their love was discovered, but let us add on to this the psychological pressure of having had a religious upbringing.

Good Christian girls do not engage in clandestine romances. Whereas the verdict on what good Christian boys do seems to be suspiciously vague — certainly as where the consequences of similar actions are concerned.

Florentino on the other hand was quite open about his romance, his mother knew and supported him. His friends knew and simply considered him a fool in love.

And other than a brief skirmish with Fermina’s father he suffered nothing more. And while he may be afflicted with a “love madness,” she is not. Their breakup is understandable.

So, no Fermina does not marry him, instead, she goes on to marry the dashing, debonaire, and dapper Dr Juvenal Urbina.

Clad in his fine fitted exquisite suites and in possession of that lofty virtue only wealth can confer, this haloed Paris-educated doctor in addition to possessing reputable medical expertise also had the alchemical effect of turning Mr. Daza into a male Mrs. Bennet. Quite the transformation indeed!

To be fair, Fermina now in her 20s is a more appropriate marriable age and the permitted suitor is a man of means, education, and reputation.

So, who could’ve foreseen that after their two year Paris honeymoon Fermina would have to share her matrimonial home with her dear, dear, mother-in-law?

Or that our fashionista, Dr Urbina would turn out to be a momma’s boy to a quintessential “boy mom” who appears barely restrained from committing incest all the while playing “mean girl” to a distressingly domestically ill-positioned daughter-in-law, whom she obviously views as the unworthy “other woman” barely fit to function as a incubator for her son’s seed?

Or that, as is characteristic with this type she would never fail to mark jealous possession of her son by having her claw upon his person at all times in some way, to the effect of essentially isolating Fermina in what is supposed to be her home now?

Oh! Dr Urbino’s tries to smooth things over for Fermina, but as is so often the case with these kinds of things, he fails. And his marriage suffers for it.

In fact, at one point he even tells Fermina, “I love you above all else, more than anyone else else in the world. The most important thing in marriage is not happiness but stability,” which has to be the most depressing spiel I have heard this year.

Notably, this comes after a scene where Fermina bemoans to her lady’s maid, just how joyless she has become and wonders if she would’ve been happier had she married Florentino. It is telling therefore that she replies to Dr Urbina’s assertion with, “And love. Nothing is more difficult than love.” Ouch!

The implication is clear, Fermina struggles to love Dr Urbino, rather understandable given that he failed to protect her from his mother for decades.

But, it is also obvious from their conversations that they’re simply not on the same page, and the ensuing friction grates mightily on what is supposed to be “domestic bliss.”

A further nail is hammered into the coffin of their “happy marriage” when Dr Urbina mentions how he in his lecture in anatomy told his class, “married women can have their periods up to three times a month.”

Things in their marriage are bad long before Dr Urbino turns craven and has an affair with one his patients — a much younger, Protestant, doctor of theology, with a mission by the harbor. A direct contrast to Fermina who is decades older, Catholic, poorly educated in comparison, and a kept housewife.

Fermina must have felt another stab when she witnessed Dr Urbino break the affair off with Ms. Barbara Lynch, leaving her the gift of a jeweled crown. Especially as it parallels when Florentino used to call her his “crowned goddess.”

The two (Fermina and Dr Urbino) — to her great relief — do reconcile, and we can assume both remain faithful until Dr Urbino’s death years later. It is sad however, that despite all this, post his death, Fermina is still unsure if their relationship could really be called “love.”

Meanwhile, back in his 20s, Florentino does not take Fermina’s marriage well. He is quite heart stricken and his mother in an effort to save him contrives to send him to Villa de Leyva, a distant enough place to help him forget Fermina.

All the while he is on the ship journeying towards this strange new land he keeps repeating to himself things like:

“I am nothing. I will not heal, not for all time. I am struck by the lightning of love and burned beyond repair. She [Fermina] is a splinter that cannot be pulled out. She’s part of me. Everywhere I go, everywhere she is.”

I mean, in light of his circumstances, it seems almost as if he is cursing himself. His mind does not free his heart to heal. There is no “thought discipline” here at all. And it’s a little…concerning.

However — and this part, it must be said, I’m not sure if I find disturbing or amusing — while upon the ship that is to take him to his far off land, Florentino is essentially sexually assaulted.

A mysterious woman yanks an unsuspecting Florentino into her darkened room, and forcibly impales herself upon his “mast,” repeatedly. An event despite its circumstances, Florentino does not hate.

In fact, he even attempts to recreate it. It turns out that the mysterious woman is in fact one of three mysterious women travelling together — sans any male companions.

At one point one of them remarks of Florentino, “It is the shy ones you must look out for,” rather prophetic in light of later events.

It is this event along with another similar event, this time contrived by his mother using some next level diabolical wingman shenanigans using the “Widow Nazaret” that ummm…wretches out of Florentino, the epiphany that “this [sex] is the cure for the pain that is Fermina.”

A cure he goes onto partake off well into his 70s with a total of 624 partners at last count. Ending of course with Fermina herself.

At one point his friend asks him what the secret behind his success with women is, to which he replies, that women see in him, “Someone in need of love. Someone who will not harm them.” And it is true that the women he “rendezvouses” with are very willing participants, often being the ones who “lead the charge” as it were.

I suppose there must be some truth to this notion of women being deeply attracted to men who are gentle and well mannered with them — an idea completely antithetical to “Alpha bro messaging” everywhere, as it brings to mind an excerpt from a book I recently read:

“I cherish within me an ineradicable tenderness for him who, in a transient connection, was able to inspire in me that charm that never dies: delicacy of good breeding.”

— Pg 241 of Courtesans, by Katie Hickman. The quote is attributed to the ruling courtesan of her age, Ms. Cora Pearl — who really, really did not like men.

And I must say, it’s really nice to have women be portrayed so very differently than as one rather moronic Mr. William Acton of the 19th century would have you believe them to be. He once said,

“The majority of women (happily for them) are not very much troubled by sexual feelings of any kind.” And “What men are habitually, women are only exceptionally.”

— Pg 227 of Courtesans, by Katie Hickman.

Moronic Mr. Acton’s words were a soothing balm to generations of men afflicted with that particular disease known simply as “male performance anxiety.”

But, back to Florentino. Despite his obvious affinity with women he is so discreet that there are rumors about town that he is in fact a homosexual! Lol! If only they knew!

In the end Florentino wins Fermina over, and despite their advanced years (she at least is 72), she seems to have come to finally enjoy coitus with Florentino as her lover. The movie ends with Florentino saying:

“After 53 years, 7 months, and 11 days and nights, my heart was at last fulfilled.

And I discover it to my joy that it is life not death that is limitless.”

Not gonna lie, it’s a very beautiful set of lines. I’ve even added it to my romantic poems/lines collection here.

So, we come back to the central question of this piece: Love or obsession? Is Florentino in love or is he obsessed?

The above poster says, Newsweek called this movie, “A love story of astonishing power.” I’m not so sure I agree.

There are a few things that rise to my mind that challenge this description. One, Florentino breaks his initial promise to Fermina, “Crowned goddess, I make this vow. I swear to you, my eternal fidelity, and ever lasting love.” He goes on to break his vow of “eternal fidelity” a solid 623 times at least.

Granted, although this promise breaks initially by way of him being sexually assaulted and fine, I’ll throw in the second time as well, as being excusable. From the third time onwards Florentino knew very much what he was doing.

Now, you could say, “But Rene! He kept his promise emotionally, even spiritually!” And I would respectfully disagree.

Consider one, the case of one Ms. Olimpia Zuleta, a much younger married women whom he deliberately seduces and whom he admits to feeling like he was falling in love again.

Alas! Of course this was cut short — literally by her husband who upon discovering the affair takes a knife to her throat. Yikes!

In another instance, Florentino remarks to his friend, “My heart has more rooms than a whorehouse,” in reference to his many conquests. If each of his conquests have a claim to his heart, then no, he has not remained fidel even emotionally.

And as for spiritually…? This is a man who said he does not believe in God but is afraid of him. So I’m not sure spiritually counts? Perhaps you wish to say that his “crowned goddess” is his spirituality rather than the Christian god, but as he physically broke his vow of eternal fidelity this honestly doesn’t count.

It is rather confusing that he even goes as far as to lie to Fermina, “I have remained a virgin for you,” to which she replies “You’re a liar.”

The insinuation of course is that he is too good in bed to be a virgin. And that she enjoys him in bed (unlike as was with the case with Dr Urbino).

Anyways…after Florentino and Fermino finally do “the deed” he says: “I have waited for this moment for 53 years.”

So, is it the chance to love her or f*k he really waited for? His satisfaction comes post sex*. Which makes me wonder if somewhere in his psyche he felt cheated of his very first “prize.”

He had successfully wooed Fermina; she had agreed to married him. But her father and later Dr Urbino dashed his hopes, or “stole” from him, his “prize.” That could be one way of interpreting things.

Additionally, as I mentioned in the previous section, he lacks mental discipline, rather than love, this “affection” seems more akin to when someone is unable to get a possible impulse-buy out of their system.

It consumes their mind until they ultimately fail. Which is a kind of obsession.

Fermina is always on his mind, because he chooses for her to remain in his mind. Because as the movie shows he does very nearly fall in love again, so clearly he was always capable of delivering to himself his own salvation, he simply chose not to and really what was the sacrifice here?

He was never shown to be desirous of having children, so in essence he had at least 53 years of frequent philandering the second last one being an 18 or 20 something year old distant relation, America Vicufia (whom he was requested to keep an eye on as she attended college). But Florentino admits to deliberately seducing her by slowing wining over her “confidence and affection”.

He also clearly views his seductions as a gift he confers onto these women as he describes the success of America’s seduction as “the doors of heaven opened to her.”

So yeah, not quite sure what to make of this other than it was less of a case of “a love story of astonishing power” and more of “a love madness of astonishing length.”

Admittedly love is a kind of mad obsession…for some. I suppose God made Florentino with quadruple the normal amount of obsessiveness. Still, I can’t quite see this as a love story, more so a story of tremendous persistence. Delusional persistence.

And finally, something to note: here is an author — whom I assume is sympathetic to Florentino —who (i) ensures that Fermina, Florentino’s “true love”, never falls in love with her chosen husband.

And that (ii) Florentino himself becomes something of a prolific sexual conquistador all the while finding a way to cast the blame of his philandering on Fermina herself, “This [sex] is the cure for the pain that is Fermina.” There’s something rather egocentric and self-serving here.

All-in-all this is still a movie worth watching, and very likely a book worth reading (can’t confirm). [8/10 stars] would recommend for a friday night/ date night.

Thank you for reading, Written by Rene Sebastian

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