still, if it's hot enough I'll lie in the sun and feel at least three types of despair: despair that life is mostly gone and I've wasted it; despair that I cannot feel now what I thought I would if I saw all my struggles through; and despair that, because I don't know any other course to take, nothing will change.
In Mark Helprin's "Paris in the Present Tense," the protagonist grapples with profound despair while reflecting on life. The heat of the sun becomes a metaphorical backdrop for his internal struggles, highlighting his feelings of wasted time and unfulfilled expectations. He contemplates the weight of his past while realizing that much of it has slipped away, evoking a deep sense of regret.
The character experiences layers of despair, realizing that his current state is a result of unmet aspirations. This despair is compounded by the stark realization that without a change in direction, he feels trapped in a cycle of disappointment. Helprin captures the essence of existential reflection as the protagonist seeks solace in the warmth of the sun, even in the face of overwhelming emotional turmoil.
