Kelsey
I rarely feel sad when a book's over, but I find myself in a funk this morning. I can't put my finger on it, but this book was unlike anything I've ever read. It didn't exactly blow my mind in the way that some books do with the prose, but there was just something about it that made feel so deeply... involved? Which I was surprised to feel, given that it was authored by a middle-aged white guy in the 50s. Normally those don't really do it for me.
I get that it was an "allegory of Genesis" or whatever (I'm due for a reread, I guess, because I think I missed ~90% of the correlations), but even without the biblical parallels (or maybe in spite of them), it was a masterfully written story about just being a human. There are tons of books out there that try and succeed at capturing various facets of our experience, but this is the first one that's ever white-knuckle gripped me like this.
Our culture is so annoyingly polarized into "good" and "bad" or "right" and "wrong" (or "right" and "left" maybe more accurately) these days, and it's easy to forget that there's a little good and a little bad in everyone (unless you're Cathy, I suppose). We're all just trying to figure our shit out and fight our own demons, ya know.
So, thank you, Mr. 50s man (admittedly very famous 50s author man) for the reminder that “thou mayest” choose to be good and kind just as “thou mayest” choose to be a shithead. We are not bound to be one or the other even if the sins of our father are seemingly insurmountable.
Neat read, highly recommend, etc.
I rarely feel sad when a book's over, but I find myself in a funk this morning. I can't put my finger on it, but this book was unlike anything I've ever read. It didn't exactly blow my mind in the way that some books do with the prose, but there was just something about it that made feel so deeply... involved? Which I was surprised to feel, given that it was authored by a middle-aged white guy in the 50s. Normally those don't really do it for me.
I get that it was an "allegory of Genesis" or whatever (I'm due for a reread, I guess, because I think I missed ~90% of the correlations), but even without the biblical parallels (or maybe in spite of them), it was a masterfully written story about just being a human. There are tons of books out there that try and succeed at capturing various facets of our experience, but this is the first one that's ever white-knuckle gripped me like this.
Our culture is so annoyingly polarized into "good" and "bad" or "right" and "wrong" (or "right" and "left" maybe more accurately) these days, and it's easy to forget that there's a little good and a little bad in everyone (unless you're Cathy, I suppose). We're all just trying to figure our shit out and fight our own demons, ya know.
So, thank you, Mr. 50s man (admittedly very famous 50s author man) for the reminder that “thou mayest” choose to be good and kind just as “thou mayest” choose to be a shithead. We are not bound to be one or the other even if the sins of our father are seemingly insurmountable.
Neat read, highly recommend, etc.