Doesn’t it suck to find two copies of the same book with different translations, and the inferior translation is the one in hard-cover or the better design? I’m a sucker for a nice looking book.
Posts tagged with "books"
Quartz
When people ask me what my favourite novel is, I tell them, “A Hero of Our Time”, and that’s been true for more than eight years now. It’s a prime example of Russian Romantic Literature, and I can appreciate that. It’s brilliant, not only in it’s lyrical style but also for the complexity of the mindset captured by the protagonist, which makes it such a pleasure to read through. It’s intelligent, it’s interesting, it’s creative, yet none of these things make it my favourite. It’s not even the book I’ve enjoyed reading the most.
It’s simply been the most influential.
Lermontov’s novel once offered me guidance (albeit blindly) when I needed it the most. His words have shaped me more than anything else I can think of, even though I’ve cast off most of my former self related to this. I still see his work as being an integral part of my development, in making me who I am at every changing moment, and that is why I hold so much importance in it.
All of it was a matter of timing. Otherwise, I’d probably think that it was just another boring book I was forced to read in grade 10 English.
The same goes with my relationships, something I would never have thought was related to timing. It’s funny to think that my most significant relationship was also my shortest by far, with a person who is most likely to think nothing of it at all. And everything that made it important to me was a combination of a very specific mindset I had at the time and the fact that this person was such a change from my previous girlfriend.
The same goes with my favourite movie and my favourite band. I’ve become a person who holds more significance in the things that change me than the things that please me.
And change is a product of time.
The Greatest Balance
When I went home a few months ago, I found a copy Soul Mountain at Chapters, which I had been looking for, ever since I found out about it. I’ve been reading as much as I can lately, whenever I have the time and the energy to concentrate on what Gao Xingjian is trying to narrate to me.
The thing that makes the autobiography interesting so far is that Xingjian was incorrectly diagnosed with fatal lung cancer, and after proper review, had been given a second chance on life. His outlook changes, and he begins to see everything around him very differently.
I’ve lately felt that, although I’ve never been threatened with any life-altering incidents, I’ve begun to see things differently as well. It’s as if I have nothing and everything to live for. That there would be no difference between dying tomorrow or in eight decades. It’s almost as if I’ve had my fair share of experiences, each one as important as the other in shaping who I am, good or bad, and that this is already sufficient for me to be satisfied with my life. Perhaps I feel this is true when I compare the amount that I’ve already learned with the infinite amount that is impossible to learn. After all, what is the purpose of life anyway? For me, it is to continually shape myself into a better person, whether it’s intelligence, or a better appreciation of music, or dexterity, or anything. And since there is no absolute goal I have to reach (or can reach), there is no way for me to fail, and death henceforth becomes meaningless.
When I tried to explain this to someone, he got confused, and thought that I was telling him about how I had experienced all there is to experience already. This couldn’t be further from the truth. There are a plethora of things I haven’t done, that I haven’t been through, and whenever I’m given the chance to actually experience one of these things, I feel as if I’ve gained more out of life.
Instead of seeing the act of living as crossing out items on a life-long “to do” list, I see it as writing down items on a “have done” list.
The greatest distinction for me between these two worldviews is that I can take my time in doing what I want, instead of feeling rushed to accomplish as much as I can before I die. Seeing life this way has certainly allowed me to be a much more relaxed, flexible, easy-going person, uninhibited by the fear of death. The good thing about this is that I didn’t have to fool myself into this view, simply because I was unsatisfied with my life. Somehow, this mindset shaped itself in my brain, and eventually manifested itself through my ever-continuing maturity.
It has made life meaningful and meaningless at the same time.
Why, Vera?
I just finished reading A Hero of Our Time again. It’s the book I’ve read the most in my life, and I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve gone straight from cover to cover through various translations. Every time I’ve read it for the last eight years, I’ve grown a little more. Certain parts that I may not have understood before become clear and relateable.
One particular passage struck me this time; Vera’s final letter to Pechorin.
For three hours now I have been sitting at the window and awaiting your return…But you are alive, you cannot die! The carriage is almost ready…Farewell, Farewell! I am lost — but what of it? If I could be certain that you will always remember me — I say nothing of loving me, no — only remember…Goodbye! Someone is coming…I have to hide this letter…
I now fully understand Vera’s final wish, having since wished the same thing myself. Yet it’s something I cannot explain, even when I myself share this feeling. Why this need to not be forgotten? Why does remembering mean so much?
Is it the need to know that I am important to someone, even if it was some ephemeral relationship or some personal mistake? Is it so that I can believe that I was so special as to be unforgettable, an egotistical or perhaps insecure shroud to fool myself? Is it to give my life meaning, a sort of purpose to know that I can indelibly change the lives of others? Or maybe it’s to know that the feelings I experience, however bathetic or affected, mean something to someone. I usually pride myself in being able to perfectly understand the feelings I go through, but this idea has left me at a loss. I wonder if others have ever felt the same way. I remember not understanding this desire in myself at the time, but believing that I would eventually.
Now I’m not sure if I ever will.
Emotional Rollercoaster, More Mid-Terms, Etc.
This week has been such an emotional roller coaster. I can’t describe the odd moods I’ve been in, the twists and turns my mind has been going in. I feel lost.
I have three mid-terms tomorrow, one of which I feel confident about. I tried desperately to study during the three days I had off, and only one of them (today) had any progress whatsoever. I think it’s just my study environment, combined with my current emotional fluctuations. I tried to study in the SITE building today, watched the sun go from east to west, and felt my melatonin levels drop. I feel burned out already. I definitely need this reading week.
Speaking of which, I most likely won’t be going home for the week. I’ll probably try to hang out with Trolley or Thom. I don’t have time to change the dates on my train tickets, or even get a new ISIC. I’m not even sure if I’m elligible, since I’m a part-time student when not considering my honours project as a course.
My progress through Moby Dick has been non-existent lately.
I’ll have to catch the Married with Children reunion special on Sunday. I always found the show to be amusing when I was a kid, though I never laughed out loud as I would if watching a funny show nowadays, like Family Guy. I think I was just mystified by the openness with which the sexuality was dealt with, something that I never grew up around. I’m sure the special will remind me of the summers I spent at home long ago, something I’d rather remember for my innocence than my ignorance.
I’m downloading Full Metal Jacket. I still can’t get over how brilliant the entire film was, possibly the best display of genius on film I’ve seen so far. I still haven’t decided whether I should buy it though, since it’s not quite a movie I can relate to, which is generally the criteria I use to build my collection.