05.24.09
Zusak - Kundera
Umberto Eco is currently on my lap. Which one? You shall find out soon. All I can say is that the pages I have read so far are magnificent. I have a random trio of books piled up for May’s second half, all of which I planned on making a joint recapitulation. I have already read two from the stack, the Eco happens to be the third, but Eco’s insisting on having an entry all to himself.
The two other books are The Book Thief by Markus Zusak and The Joke by Milan Kundera.
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…there would be happiness, too. That was writing.
The Book Thief is one of the books I would eagerly recommend to anyone, anywhere, anytime. Truth be told, I did not expect to love this book as much as I do now. Not only is it unique in its narrative, but it is remarkable in every aspect especially when in the first few pages one realizes who is speaking to the reader; Not the orphan Liezel Meminger who is drawn to books and words during dangerous times in Nazi Germany, not her kind accordion-playing foster father, not Rudy who persists in asking for a kiss, not even the dismal mayor’s wife with the library, but rather, Death!
These passages are taken from the latter part of the book, They say that war is death’s best friend, but I must offer you a different point of view on that one. To me, war is like the new boss who expects the impossible. He stands over your shoulder repeating one thing, incessantly: “Get it done, get it done.” So you work harder. You get the job done. The boss, however, does not thank you. He asks for more.
It’s probably fair to say that in all the years of Hitler’s reign, no person was able to serve the Führer as loyally as me. A human doesn’t have a heart like mine. The human heart is a line, whereas my own is a circle, and I have the endless ability to be in the right place at the right time. The consequence of this is that I’m always finding humans at their best and worst. I see their ugly and their beauty, and I wonder how the same thing can be both. Still, they have one thing I envy. Humans, if nothing else, have the good sense to die.
This book seared the very core of my being and even by saying nothing more; I hope I might convince someone that this is a book worth reading. If one has a heart, I guarantee that this story will stay with you for a very long time. It is enduring… enduring… enduring…
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Fortunately, I have in my hands what they call the “definitive version” of The Joke since it is fully revised by the author himself after four deficient releases by other translators. I suggest that anyone who plans on reading this should find the same edition. There will not be a sixth edition, the author promised.
While the title might be merited to a joke which led to a main character’s ruin, I think it reflects so much on the absurdity of different ideals and the lives of the personae. The Joke is Milan Kundera’s first novel but in my humble opinion proves him to be Nobel-material. One can trust Kundera to yank the reader into a poignant melodic storytelling all his own. While it reeks with frustrating love affairs and human weaknesses, it flourishes with profundity and political insights. Nevertheless, it seems that its most infesting quality is the reverberation of the irredeemability of the past.
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Here are other passages that stuck with me:
“Morals were pretty strict in those days, people really overdid it, but maybe it’s better to overdo morality than immorality the way we do now.”
“True religion does not need the favour of secular power.”
“I say Christians. Yet where are they? Looking around me, I see nothing but pseudo-Christians living exactly like unbelievers. But being a Christian means living differently. It means taking the path Christ took. Imitating Christ.”
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“…no woman can live without feelings, she wouldn’t be a woman if she did, so why deny it?”
“Every man has a selfish streak in him, it’s up to the woman to stand up for herself and her mission as a woman.”
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“I had all kinds of answers ready for the commissions that called me in and asked me what made me become a Communist, but what had attracted me to the movement more than anything, dazzled me, was the feeling (real or apparent) of standing near the wheel of history… The intoxication we experienced is commonly known as the intoxication of power, but (with a bit of good will) I could choose less severe words: we were bewitched by history; we were drunk with the thought of jumping on its back and feeling it beneath us; admittedly, in most cases the result was an ugly lust for power, but (as all human affairs are ambiguous) there was still (and especially, perhaps, in us, the young), an altogether idealistic illusion that we were inaugurating a human era in which man (all men) would be neither outside history, nor under the heel of history, but would create and direct it.”
“Youth is terrible: it is a stage trod by children in buskins and a variety of costumes mouthing speeches they’ve memorized and fanatically believe but only half understand. And history is terrible because it so often ends up a playground for the immature; a playground for the young Nero, a playground for the young Bonaparte, a playground for easily roused mobs of children whose simulated passions and simplistic poses suddenly metamorphose into a catastrophically real reality.”
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“If we looked back, we’d end up like Lot’s wife.”
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mika said,
May 24, 2009 at 2:52 pm
oooh, both interesting books! i don’t know which book i’d read first :P btw, was Kundera a Christian?
Miracle ♪♫ said,
May 24, 2009 at 6:32 pm
Hint: The Book Thief is more emotionally profound, while The Joke is intellectually profound. Another thing that amazes me about Kundera’s writing is how he constantly makes musical references. He’s also a pianist and his father was a student of Leoš Janáček. ;-)
I’m not sure about Kundera’s religious stance, Mika, but his characters tend to lean on the immoral side - even in The Unbearable Lightness of Being.