I was dissapointed in Mario during the first scene. To me he was a crybaby, he complained about everything and did nothing about anything. As the story progressed he grew on me. I discovered that he was just a human, stuck in his own little world that he hated. Mario had come to hate the little island he was on. He could find nothing that was wonderful or beautiful about it until years later and his eyes had been opened.
Driven by his hate of fishing, Mario becomes a postman for one man only: a poet. The friendship that sprang up between Mario and the poet, whose name escapes me, was a slow one. They were on different levels and from completely different worlds. For maybe not the best reasons, Mario tries to learn poetry from this famous man. He finds it very difficult. Metaphors... so difficult, he can't make one.
The poet shows Mario that he has already done it many times without realizing it. He gives Mario books to read, he helps him learn, understand, and think for himself. His influence his writing gives Mario a desire to become more, to know more. Mario is able to court his lovely lady through his newfound love of words and poetry. He isn't very good and he knows it, but he still tries. He wins her in the end.
When the poet leaves, Mario is still stuck on his little island. He feels restricted with his new knowledge and his inability to do anything. He never forgets his friend, the man that helped him change. Mario slowly sees the beauty around him and writes a final poem for his friend. Although rhetoric helped Mario overcome his ignorance, win his wife, and do something that he believed was of importance. It also cost him his life. Yet he died doing what he thought was right.
From a crybaby to a martyr. Stupid poetry.
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