I feel indifferent after reading Kundera's "Unbearable Lightness of Being," which is perhaps the worst thing you can say to a book that tries so hard to uncover so much. It's not effective because there's no strong central character to identify with; they're all lost in their own ways and nothing seems to metaphorically tie them together in their search for "being," either in their discoveries of themselves but also in relation with lovers and family. For sad books on relationships, I'd rather re-read "Revolutionary Road." I don't think I've talked about it, so I'm going to show it some love now.
Out of all the books I read last year, "Revolutionary Road" was by far the most affecting piece of literature. Go out and buy it NOW. Or you can do like my cheap ass did and wait for your local Friends of the Library bookstore to carry it and buy it for one dollar! (East Bay homeboys and girls: both Oakland and Berkeley both have several branches. All profits go to the libraries. No excuses.) If there was ever a book with beautiful, real language and dialogue, this is it. It's powerful because it follows the lives of two very ordinary people, with two children, who don't necessary want to be parents, or in the suburbs, or even with each other. But it's these feelings that come in flashes -- like vacillating between been content and feeling trapped, of this over-optimistic hope of being able to leave it all and start something new, and knowing that it won't happen that strikes me the most.
What hurts me the most when reading this is how much sense the characters, Frank and April Wheeler, make. You can see their points of view equally. They are both real and relatable, a little bratty and spoiled by life, smart but not entirely self-aware. In other words, we know people like them (or perhaps we used to be them? we are them?), and we know how people like them interact with the world: a little self-righteous but well-meaning. Every character in "Revolutionary Road" -- and there are quite a few -- is critical. Aren't we one way with one person and completely different with someone else? And then when we're in group settings...? This book touches on every facet of human desire - romantic, platonic, self-searching and it does it so succinctly. No wasted words and feelings. This book is sad, but so compelling. It is the opposite of a John Updike book. Updike is sad and mean without intention, which just makes me frustrated. I don't want to be frustrated with fiction. I would just go and watch General Hospital or some crazy Korean drama.
currently listening to:
Right Through Me
Nicki Minaj (OH MY JEEBUS, WHO AM I??)
xoxo t
PS I just found Claire's post on "Unbearable Lightness" here. I would agree that it veers off to tangents. There is too much ego writing here. Have you guys read Vonnegut's Breakfast of Champions? Vonnegut inserts so much authorial intent there, ugh. Kundera does a similar thing, only I think he's being less ass-y more philosophical. Vonnegut was just trying to be the ultimate Vonnegut. (He drew a picture of an anus, okay? No thanks.)
PPS Anyone see the movie for "Revolutionary Road"? Should I watch it? I do love Kate Winslet.
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