Brilliance, repaid with loneliness

This is an Oscar-winning film called “Hilary and Jackie,” but we prefer its Chinese title: “She’s More Lonely Than Fireworks.”

Have you ever set off fireworks? Have you ever watched the magnificent fireworks bursting in the sky from the ground? The beauty that bursts forth in an instant is intoxicating, and after the fireworks disappear, the loneliness of the sky seems even more real.

I don’t know what kind of wisdom it takes to translate the title of such an ordinary movie as *Hilary and Jackie* as *She’s More Lonely Than Fireworks*. The title is incredibly apt; just one sentence is enough to give you a glimpse into the story, and the kind of forlorn woman within it. That one sentence encapsulates her entire life.

I was slightly disappointed when I received this Oscar-winning DVD, because I imagined the leading lady, worthy of the title, should have a thin and melancholic face, like the prematurely deceased actress in Yi Shu’s novel of the same name, or the elegant and aloof Ruan Lingyu as portrayed by Maggie Cheung. But the poster featured two women; these must be Hilary and Jackie. The blonde Jackie had a vivid and innocent doll-like face, while Hilary’s face was hidden behind her, her head slightly bowed. Unlike Hilary’s restrained demeanor, Jackie clearly still looked like a child, her eyes innocent and passionate.

Perhaps it is a deeper cruelty to let such a child, with eyes full of fervent longing, live a lonely life.

Hilary and Jackie are sisters born into a musical family. From a young age, Hilary practiced harder than Jackie, always performing on a brightly lit stage and receiving more praise and recognition. Jackie, willful and sensitive, couldn’t bear the neglect and loneliness of always being ignored from the sidelines. She practiced the cello obsessively, constantly, with a stubborn and focused dedication, as if possessed. She finally surpassed her sister and became the center of attention. As Jackie excitedly held up her trophy and posed for a photo with her family, a hint of melancholy flashed across Hilary’s face.

Gradually, Hilary drifted further and further away from music. She eventually gave it up and spent her life with her beloved husband in the countryside, finding peace and happiness in their lives.

Jackie, however, seemed to have donned the legendary magical red dancing shoes, forced into an involuntary, lonely dance, unable to stop. Day and night, she traveled from city to city, like fireworks bursting on the stage. The stage lights constantly shifted, reflecting her beautiful and graceful shadow. But in the prime of her youth, amidst the fleeting brilliance, only her cello remained as her constant companion. She closed her eyes, playing with complete absorption and self-forgetfulness, possessing immense adoration and dazzling brilliance, yet her life stood in such a beautiful yet lonely posture.

Her violin playing was always so exaggerated, as if all her strength was poured into the trembling strings. She wasn’t performing; she was clearly offering her life as a sacrifice to music. Many arts in the world require the exchange of all the energy of one’s life, bit by bit, to unleash their brilliance. From the moment she began her musical career, she was destined to be inseparable from it, destined to guard it alone for the rest of her life.

She seemed to vaguely see her future, and feared it, unconsciously wanting to get rid of the cello. She wanted to become an ordinary person like Hilary, with a loving husband and a happy family. But Hilary said, “My dear, if you think it’s easier to be an ordinary person than an extraordinary one, you’re wrong.” Yes, she had already soared to such heights, and even with a lover, she still couldn’t find the happiness of an ordinary person like her sister. She had no choice but to bloom in solitude and brilliance.

I don’t know why, but I always felt that she wasn’t actually obsessed with the cello. Her initial affinity and focus on it were simply because she was too lonely inside and wanted to gain more love through it. As her sister said, she was just a child who needed a lot of love to be satisfied. And her amazing musical talent seemed to be the only bargaining chip she could use to exchange for affection. Without music, without being able to play, she actually had nothing.

So when Jackie realized she could no longer play, her hands trembling so much she couldn’t hold the bow, she was like a noble princess who had taken off her glass slipper, instantly transforming back into a self-conscious and desperate Cinderella. She arrived weary and worn at Hilary and her husband’s farm in the countryside, wanting to share her sister’s family, even her sister’s husband. She didn’t actually love that man; she simply wanted to prove that even without the glamour of music, as a woman, she could still receive love.

She was always a fragile and willful child, frantically demanding everything and wanting more, just to ward off the cold loneliness deep in her soul.

Hilary loved Jackie deeply, and unable to refuse her desperate cries, she reluctantly agreed to let her share everything. The three of them, bound by their deep love for each other, became entangled in a desperate and painful relationship. Ultimately, Hilary could no longer bear it and could no longer accept such a twisted connection. Jackie, left with only her cello—the only thing truly belonging to her—and departed in sorrow.

However, Jackie was diagnosed with a terminal illness, and she lost her music completely. Every day she sat there trembling, her body shaking violently, like a leaf struggling in the autumn wind. She had spent her life relentlessly pursuing and striving, constantly wandering without a sense of security. Music had brought her boundless glory and pride, but it had also robbed her of the love and warmth she most craved in life, and ultimately, it cruelly left her. She was left with nothing again.

Hilary came, and she hugged her, gently telling her the stories she had told her when she was little. In a daze, they were once again those two happy little girls running and embracing deeply on the beach. All the glory and splendor she had dreamed of in life vanished in an instant, leaving only that moment of close embrace, a meeting of minds, so real and warm.

That day, they seemed to have encountered a solitary woman on the beach who told Jackie, “Don’t worry, everything will pass…”

Yes, my dear, everything will pass. Joy, jealousy, pride, pain, loss, glory, shame… all are fleeting. At the end of life, there is only a vast, boundless, pale, and empty loneliness.

I remember setting off fireworks by the sea once. In that instant, the unparalleled brilliance in the sky and water burst forth so boldly. But after that fleeting glimpse, all the splendor and color vanished without a trace, leaving only a feeling that the sky had grown even darker, and I even began to doubt whether what I had seen was all an illusion.

All the brilliance that has ever existed in life must ultimately be repaid with loneliness.