After a symposium on eros and love (perhaps eros and agape would have been a better title) I had tea with two friends in Amsterdam.
A movie poster of Fellini’s 8 ½ was hanging on the wall in the living room of my friend's apartment and for one reason or another we started discussing the movie.
“It ends with a suicide,” one of the friends said.
“No,” I said, “it ends with the circus.”
We watched the last scene.
First there is Marcello Mastroianni’s suicide, then there’s the circus.
The last circus scene is magnificent in all its melancholia.