Influencer book that came in my life at the best possible time. I¡¯d been reflecting on all the choices I¡¯ve made and the choices I¡¯m making. They arenInfluencer book that came in my life at the best possible time. I¡¯d been reflecting on all the choices I¡¯ve made and the choices I¡¯m making. They aren¡¯t all good ones. This one reminded me that, regrets or no, my life is still mine. No one can live my life and be happy, and I can¡¯t live anyone else¡¯s life and be happy.
The only issue I had was with the ending, when Nora is left regretting nothing (there¡¯s quite a literal imagery where all of her past regrets ¡°burn down.¡±) It was like the book validated every emotion and human experience, e.g. depression, isolation, death, but didn¡¯t validate regret. (How can all the other emotions even exist without regret?)
That and some other aspects made the book feel a little on the YA/children side. The ¡°philosophical¡± quotes, Rupi Kaur poetry (the bad kind), and unnecessary classical music stuff that only served to show off his knowledge of classical music fell off the mark. ...more
The Catcher in the Rye was on my mind the whole time and it was a minor "aha" moment when it was mentioned in the book. Both have the jadedness, disapThe Catcher in the Rye was on my mind the whole time and it was a minor "aha" moment when it was mentioned in the book. Both have the jadedness, disappointment at society at large, and profound feeling of closeness of having someone of your age speak to you. This was solid and hit all the feels, but for a few lacking aspects.
1. The MC is the most mysterious, opaque character ever. He never reveals anything about himself to the reader or to the other characters, which had the double-effect of: a) making me identify with him and b) making it virtually impossible for me to like him. The only thing I remember him talking about (repeatedly) is his roommate and his weird antics - and they were not even that funny. And the only "personality trait" of his is his sense of superiority over 99% of the population in Tokyo, just because he may have read Dickens at some point, or something, and happened to like it. All these dumb people! Who don't read! Who talk about politics without knowing what they're talking about! (Um, at least they're trying to express themselves, which is a concept you don't seem to understand?)
2. The women!!! Just because someone is a woman, doesn't mean they are immediately a sexual object or even a potential object of romance, thank you! I mean, Midori, the rebellious "I'm not like other girls" I'm-bored-with-my-current-boyfriend-and-want-to-try-something-new college kid, sure. Aren't we all. Naoko...the soft juvenile girl who's still hung up on her dead boyfriend and is suicidal and, apparently, seems to be on the ace spectrum? Hmm, less sure. But Reiko? That's when I completely lost faith in Murakami. Women falling for the MC left and right when they don't even KNOW him...can we get out of this fanfic phase already?
3. The story. The way it sells the idea that the MC has "moved on" and has found "hope" in a girl, Midori, who's just as bad as him if not worse. Passive-aggressive, emotionally abusive, and manipulative, she sweeps him into her little *harmless* idea of a love affair and demands him to devote himself to her. Her idea of love is twisted and is perhaps closer to blind submission on common terms, and the fact that the MC completely fell for it without once using his brain fills me with dread. There he goes again, falling in love with the least available people. I'm good as long as Norwegian Wood is sold as a tragedy. The way it's framed as a "love story" is what bothers me.
Norwegian Wood made me cry in a way that books are rarely able to do to me, and not even over its tragedy, but in the simple way that I felt understood. It was readable and pulled a heartstring or two, but I'd still recommend TCitR over this a million times over. At least Holden had a personality....more
A lot of Schwartz' content engages in the very lengths we go in self-deception and twisting the narrative just to avoid negative self-judgment. PainfuA lot of Schwartz' content engages in the very lengths we go in self-deception and twisting the narrative just to avoid negative self-judgment. Painfully awakening prose that can sometimes feel a bit didactic and repulsive, like an academic essay. I'd never heard of Schwartz before this one but he is definitely the kind of philosophical writer (with as strong an author's voice as the characters') that I've been coming to enjoy a lot lately. His sense of humor and mockery of human beings definitely did remind me of Milan Kundera (although the latter is a lot darker).
My favorite was the story of the American and Italian academics. The Hartford Innocents - I was waiting for it to be over, as someone else also mentioned here. I'm curious where his apparent interest in feminism and perspectives of young women come from....more
Lovely, taunting, nauseating... Happiness lies in repetition; repetition is paradise; humans are unhappy because our time moves only in a straight linLovely, taunting, nauseating... Happiness lies in repetition; repetition is paradise; humans are unhappy because our time moves only in a straight line. Given such dark themes and the political tsunamis of 20th-century communism, I'm surprised by the joyful (or at least, apathetic) tone of Kundera. For some reason I see a lot of Slavoj Zizek in him :)
There is something disturbing about obsessively psychoanalyzing dead famous artists by scrounging through their personal diaries. I mean, who wants thThere is something disturbing about obsessively psychoanalyzing dead famous artists by scrounging through their personal diaries. I mean, who wants their journals read by strangers, even if it's after you've died? There's a price that Laing pays here by nonconsensually entering people's thoughts, even if the people in question are fascinating, glamorous, famous, and intelligent.
The conclusion of the book, that loneliness is a mental state we must ultimately love and cherish, is unnerving considering that 99% of the book is about how artists of 20th century America have suffered and spiralled into depression from the coldness and discrimination of modern city life. The premises the book goes such a distance to explore (mainly, that loneliness is profoundly unhappy and painful) simply does not lead to the conclusion that therefore we should live in loneliness with love. In short, I just don't get it. But perhaps it is me who is being too annoyingly Socratic here - after all, logic is only another commodity that industrialism prizes. In any case, though, I don't like being lonely. I would think no one does.
This was overall a fascinating take on modern American art and, as someone who has no idea about art history, was enjoyable and heartbreaking in equal measure. It had a definite focus on the artists' personal histories more than the artworks in their essence, which deterred me from looking at their artworks with fresh eyes on Google Image Search, but perhaps this book was intended for those who already knew what it was talking about. ...more
I haven't read anything so beautiful in a while. I mean, it's beautiful, but it's also relatable, so it's a win-win. In fact there's so many wins in tI haven't read anything so beautiful in a while. I mean, it's beautiful, but it's also relatable, so it's a win-win. In fact there's so many wins in this book I wonder how lost I would have been if I hadn't stumbled on this. This book gives me all the courage and all the right answers (or at least the right questions) that I could have asked for during this pandemic and the past few months I've been spending pondering my future and the uncertainty thereof. In short, don't ponder anything. Just live it....more
Loading...
