The Hours by Michael Cunningham

Yes, I realize this is not a "classic". I am in the habit, currently, of reading borrowed books. It makes them a little more sweet. Anyway I don't regret reading it- it was pretty fascinating. I won't dwelve into the summary because I'm sure tons of people have already done this. Since it's contemporary and all.

"It seems possible (it does not seem impossible) that she's slipped accross an invisible line, the line that has always seperated her from what she preferred to feel, who she would prefer to be."

"You try to hold the moment, justs here, in the kitchen with the flowers. You try to inhabit it, to love it because it's yours and because what waits immediately outside these rooms is the hallway, with its brown tiles and its dim brown lamps that are always lit."

What awaits you is TIME. I feel like this as well. It seems like all these women want to be safe behind the doors. They are scared of what awaits them outside (and of time itself). Mrs. Brown wants to read all day and doesn't want to face her life- family. Virginia as well- as soon as she locks the door she feels free. "She feels briefly, wonderfully alone, with everything ahead of her." (Clarissa). There are endless possibilities behind the closed door of reality.

“She thinks of how much more space a being occupies in life than it does in death; how much illusion of size is contained in gestures Dead, we are revealed in our true dimensions, and they are surprisingly modest." 

“I wanted to create something alive and shocking enough that it could stand beside a morning in somebody’s life. The most ordinary morning. Imagine, trying to do that. What foolishness.”

“When she looks in the medicine- cabinet mirror, she briefly imagines that someone is standing behind her. There is on one, of course; it’s just a trick of the light. For an instant, no more than that, she has imagined some sort of ghost self, a second version of her, standing immediately behind, watching. It’s nothing.”

“She might, at this moment, be nothing but a floating intelligence; not even a brain inside a skull, just a presence that perceives, as a ghost might. Yes, she thinks, this is probably how it must feel to be a ghost. It’s a little like reading, isn’t it- that same sensation of knowing people, settings, situations, without playing any particular part beyond that of the willing observer”

“We live our lives, do whatever we do, and then we sleep- it’s as simple and ordinary as that. A few jump out of windows or drown themselves or take pills; more die by accident; and most of us, the vast majority, are slowly devoured by some disease or, if we’re very fortunate, by time itself. There’s just this for consolation: an hour here or there when our lives seem, against all odds and expectations, to burst open and give us everything we’ve ever imagined, though everyone but children (and perhaps even they) knows these hours will inevitable be followed by others, far darker and more difficult. Still, we cherish the city, the morning; we hope, more than anything, for more.” 

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The hours- basically it refers to time. Richard killed himself because he dreaded all this TIME and he was tired of passing through it. Same as his mother- which is why she walked away from the family, it was unendurable. And yet- I like this- I like that yes we go on living through what is the majority of our life- through dark hours. Ordinary life- where nothing happens. We have parties, we have anxieties, we have sorrows, trifles trifles. They are insignificant. But we get caught up in it all. And we don’t really know ourselves sometimes. But the beauty of life- is that it reminds us WHY we are alive. In just a moment. Because this book focuses on being IN the moment, and being OUT of it. Most of the time we are OUT of the moment, we don’t really know how to cherish it. But when we are in the moment, these hours before us seem to be suspended. And we feel immortal. That is what our life is- a constant strive to feel immortal. To feel as if time itself has stopped. 

Another aspect is that all of these women do not feel themselves. "UNBEING". Which by the way KUNDERA has also used. They seem to be living someone else's life and don't know what to do about it. They feel trapped in their "role". Virginia as well- pretending to be "healthy" and "socially normal". I think Clarissa is the worst one- because she doesn't realize that she's trapped- even though she mentions the apartment and how she doesn't feel at "home" there. And even Sally said that they'll watch each other "fade away", which is super sad. So I tihnk Laura Brown was the smartest one- she just walked away from UNBEING. She didn't want to deal with it and live a lie. While Virginia killed herself. Alternatives. 

One can't RATIONALIZE one's happiness- as much as one tries. It ends up catching up with you in the end. 

 

Identity by Kundera

 

"Remembering our past, carrying it with us always, may be the necessary requirement for maintaining, as they say, the wholeness of the self. To ensure that the self doesn't shrink, to see that it holds on to its volume, memories have to be watered like potted flowers, and the watering calls for regular contact with the witnesses of the past, that is to say, with friends."

"[...] every one of us is immersed in a sea of salivas that blend and make us into one single community
of salivas, one humankind wet and bound together."

Never thought about saliva in that way- we are all connected by saliva 0_0...

"The child makes us care about the world, think about its future, willingly join in its racket and its turmoils, take its incurable stupidity seriously."

"But what a sorry fate, to be the soul of a body cobbled together so offhandedly, whose eye cannot do its looking without being washed every ten, twenty seconds! How are we to believe that the person we see before us is a free, independent being, his own master? How are we to believe that his body is the faithful expression of whatever soul inhabits it?"

We are limited by the functions of our bodies. We will be forever imposed by it.

Great interruption to the story- asking the reader: "At what exact moment did the real turn into the unreal, reality into reverie ? Where was the border? Where is the border?" And what is the significance in this? 


Okay so basically in the end this woman which didn't really know herself, is finally heart and soul devoted to the one she loved- a deeper love developed. She realized that what she had was enough- and didn't want anything more. And that her identity was found in this love- this is the only way she could be her natural self. 
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It's a sweet story- showing us that even we don't know who we are sometimes. That everything is flexible, and we adapt to different kinds of people, changing our faces as many times as it's convenient. Does that make us hypocritical? In the end- I don't think so- except that it's not real. And whether it's real is what matters to the individual (not to society). It affects you in the end. And I guess love helps to know ourselves, because someone loves you for who you are (even if you sometimes forget it). And they can always rekindle what you have forgotten (about yourself). This phrase: "Men don't look at me anymore." in the story is significant because she was thinking that maybe she didn't live enough as she should have. And maybe wanting some adventure... and not realizing that all she needed she already had. The point is not to have a stranger's gaze but your lover's- and it can be a difficult thing to learn (and probably more than once). 
Do we really know the one's we love? Or can do they always have the capability of surprising us and making us feel as if we have never known them at all?

The Garden of Forking Paths by Jorge Luis Borges

I have been searching for this author far and wide- trying to remember his last name. I have read him once in a world literature class and only remembered the impression he made on me. Because I have extremely intellectual friends- he came back to revisit me. This story was absolutely genius.

"Then I reflected that everything happens to a man precisely, precisely now. Centuries of centuries and only in the present do things happen; countless men in the air, on the face of the earth and the sea, and all that is really happening is happening to me..."

When you boil it down yes- we can only experience the present.

"I talked with him for scarcely an hour, but during that hour he was Goethe. . ." 

Goethe is the ultimate symbol of genius.

"The author of an atrocious undertaking ought to imagine that he has already accomplished it, ought to impose upon himself a future as irrevocable as the past." 

"The instructions to turn always to the left reminded me that such was the common procedure for discovering the central point of certain labyrinths." 

 "I imagined it infinite, no longer composed of octagonal kiosks and returning paths, but of rivers and provinces and kingdoms... I thought of a labyrinth of labyrinths, of one sinuous spreading labyrinth that would encompass the past and the future and in some way involve the stars." 

In which men can get lost in... 

"In all fictional works, each time a man is confronted with several alternatives, he chooses and eliminates the others; in the fiction of Ts'ui Pen, he chooses-- simultaneously -- all of them. He creates, in this way, diverse futures, diverse times which themselves proliferate and fork." 

We choose all possibilities at once.

"He believed in an infinite series of times, in a growing, dizzying net of divergent, convergent and parallel times. This network of times which approached one another, forked, broke off, or were unaware of one another for centuries, embraces all possibilities of time. We do not exist in the majority of these times; in some you exist, and not I; in others I, and not you; in others, both of us. In the present one, which a favorable fate has granted me, you have arrived at my house; in another, while crossing the garden, you found me dead; in still another, I untter these same words, but I am a mistake, a ghost."

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One of the most fascinating works I have read- about time. We exist in all possibilities and everything is flexible. One time I am your friend and yet another I am your enemy. 
The question I have is: What in us makes us constant throughout these different possibilities of us? 

--
Pdf- Translated by D.A.Y.

Slowness by Kundera

"[...] in fact, I doubt that the hedonist ideal could ever be achieved; I'm afraid the sort of life it advocates for us may not be compatible with human nature."

Because hedonism is temporary- like he said, it brings more unhappiness than happiness. Later- he's asks again whether hedonism could be realized- in almost a desperate tone. 

"Imposing form on a period of time is what beauty demands, but so does memory. For what
is formless cannot be grasped, or committed to memory."

I like the way the woman constructed time and divided the night into 3 parts- prolonging arousal so that this can be impressed on the mind and make it more exciting instead of just listening to immediately instinct. "Conceiving their encounter as a form was especially precious for them, since their night was to have no tomorrow and could be repeated only through recollection." Therefore it was very important that it would be remembered in a form.

Slowness and remembering are connected.

"Vulva: noisy crossroads where all of chattering humankind meets, a tunnel the generations file through."

"It did not take place because Vincent's member is as small as a wilted wild strawberry, as a great-grandmother's thimble." 

The most entertaining personification I've come across so far- Kundera and the character's "member" having a dialogue...

All these characters are wonderfully justifying what they want to believe...

The play repeats itself again and again- these dynamics of dominant and submissive. Torture each other to infinity for selfish reasons. "Thus everything can go on and the play they just performed tonight for the first time will be repeated in the days and weeks to come."

"When things happen too fast, nobody can be certain about anything, about anything at all, not even about himself."

Yes- like he said- in a second your past seems so certain and calm, while now everything is chaotic and frightening.

"our period is obsessed by the desire to forget, and it is to fulfill that desire that it gives over to the demon of speed; it picks up the pace to show us that it no longer wishes to be remembered; that it is tired of itself; sick of itself; that it wants to blow out the tiny trembling name of memory."

I can agree with him even in this period- actually more so because now it's become the fashion to forget. People forget so easily nowadays- the most tragic catastrophes fade away in a few weeks.War, civil war, epidemics, natural disasters... pff everyone is too busy trying to forget his own existence

"[...] it stands up against the universe like Beethoven's Ninth Symphony, which, in the face of gloomy humankind, roars out its hymn to joy."

Absolutely stupendous.

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A story about people's need to be loved- I think. They reacted in certain ways because of wounded pride/feelings. The concept of dancers- people who live for the sensual pleasure of attention- is very interesting. The question was- whether we were all dancers- like the guy said about cameras, cameras are everywhere. And even without cameras, people can IMAGINE the abstract audience and pretend to be acting. This need for attention transfers them into the ELECT- and therefore makes their life meaningful and unique.
Characters and relations:
Madame T and Chevalier- she plays with him, constructing the entire night for her sole pleasure- Kundera writes that she was the only one which at least was the closest in finding happiness through hedonsim- pure sensuality.

Vincent and Julie- Vincent hates Berck and is very troubled by him, therefore uses Julie to forget things "the asshole/supreme portal" but in fact he's only interested in his ego boost- wherever he can get it from. Their performance in front of the imaginary stage portrays all of their interests. Vincent was acting for them, while Julie was acting because she liked Vincent, and also because she was humiliated by the pretentious company at the party I think he suffered because he was always in Pontevin's shadow, he could never become the real "dancer", so he used people like Julie which worshiped him to boost his ego. In this way, Chevalin was also used by Madame T for her own pleasure.
Berck/Immaculata/cameraman- Berck is one of the dancers in this story- so is Vincent's "mentor/best friend" Pontevin. Berck is in constant insecurity about having an audience and is in constant search for new things to keep it going. Immaculata poses a danger for him because it reminds him of his younger days when he was a "fool"- even though now he is just as a fool. Immaculata uses the cameraman in a sadistic way (because she is hurt that Berk doesn't want her); constantly wanting to see his proof of love to her by abusing him. He pretends to hate her but acting out of weakness- which she knows. Very sick.
the scientist- guy which was in extreme denial and wanted to be loved again by an audience- full of himself and constantly "protects" his ego- telling himself lies even when he realizes that everyone takes him as a joke

This story was also about forgetting. All characters were trying to forget something, and so they engaged in hedonism- no matter what kind, sexual or attention seekers... they were trying to run away from something- except for Madame T.

Why did the Chevalier and Vincent meet at the end? What do they have in common? Chevalier was used by the madame, while Vincent is an wana-be elect. And they didn't understand each other- Vincent wanted to boast about his lie (nothing happened that night) while the Chevalier was humiliated by the madame and didn't want to listen to him. Vincent actually insulted the Chevalier. What is the meaning?

The ending is very concrete: "No tomorrow. No audience" and that is where sensuality reigns for it can be kept in memory. For the audience disappears when they have found something else more entertaining, the memory itself is not kept. Like the children in Somalia. The people who entertain the audience are constantly fighting to have them be remembered. And no tomorrow- slowness with no tomorrow is what gives memory its sweetness. "and all that time he will be trying to stay as close as he can to the night as it melts inexorably in the light." The Chevalier and Madame T are the heroes in this story because they are striving to remember while everyone else strive to forget. Completely different attitudes aren't they? Maybe we should also strive to remember instead of forgetting- then our life would be more intricate instead of blurred and vague. For when we start running away- we never stop. We should go against the current of time, and cherish the memories- for that is all we have.

--
Pub- Trans Linda Asher.

The Book of Laughter and Forgetting by Kundera

"The struggle of man against power is the struggle of memory against forgetting."

"She said he had made love to her like an intellectual. [...] she was capable of giving the most concrete of acts an abstract significance and her own dissatisfaction a political name."

"For he was aware of the great secret of life: Women don't look for handsome men. Women look for men who have had beautiful women."

"We want to be masters of the future only for the power to change the past."

"They wanted to efface hundreds of thousands of lives from memory and leave nothing but an
unstained age of unstained idyll. But Mirek is going to land his whole body on that idyll, like a stain."

The truth about communism- I don't care how much people want to go back- these lives were REAL and they did EXIST.

"[...] every love relationship rests on an unwritten agreement unthinkingly concluded by the lovers in the first weeks of their love."

"The mystic must not be afraid of ridicule if he wants to go to the limits, the limits of humility or the limits of sensual pleasure."

"There are two laughters, and we have no word to tell one from the other."

Funny- the laughter of the angel is to promote order and rationality while the devil's laughter is to "deprive everything of meaning"- which is why the devil's laughter is more powerful, for it undermines reason.

"And these others (I am one of them) always retain a kind of faint yearning for that lost ring dance, because we are all inhabitants of a universe where everything turns in circles."

Everyone wants to be part of a ring dance, where you lose yourself and become free- everything becomes innocent. No matter what society- communists, baptists, anarchists (yes they have societies too)- it is a joy to be part of something, constantly moving round and round. It's interesting the narrator, still wants to go back to the dance- even though they kicked him out mercilessly.

"[...] throughout the world the angels had occupied all positions of authority, all the general staffs, had taken over the left and the right, the Arabs and the Jews, the Russian generals and the Russian dissidents."

All of these orders are the angels- they are all the same- they are all "fighting for the future of the human race".And anyone against these orders need to be exterminated- which is what Kundera explains- laughter is the ultimate antidote to undermine these powers. He clumps in all parts of the system- even the opposition. All of them are part of the same wish for an order. And the devil is there to undermine all of this authority and destroy it's seriousness. Which is why laughter is from the devil.

Wait- are people within the circles part of the societal orders? Or are these orders just means to provide a reason for dancing? And that the dance itself is what matters, no matter which ideology brought united these hands together.After all- Kundera says laughter is a sensual pleasure: "But by now the three dancing women were unaware of the others, they were concentrating entirely on themselves and on their sensual pleasure." In a way they are laughing the way the devil laughs- without any purpose. They are forming this circle within a social code/construct, and so they always disappear from this world- the laughter takes them away.

The girls have found some logic through laughter- anything which they can't explain they attribute it to "comic effect" and therefore solving the problem.

"[...] farther and farther from my country into the deserted space of a world where the fearsome laughter of the angels rings out, drowning all my words with its jangle."

So since he was out of the circle of innocence- he was doomed to live in this order of things- where the angels are actually evil. I think he flipped the roles- and made the devil good and the angels bad. For maybe in the communistic world that's how it was- everything appeared not as it was.

Basically people didn't believe in the system- they just wanted to be free internally.
Just like the Professor- he also wants to find his own circle, his own laughter- where relief/refuge is found from his loneliness. He is left in reality, while the circle creates an ideal dimension.

"We write books because our children aren't interested in us. We address ourselves to an anonymous world because our wives plug their ears when we speak to them. [...] What distinguishes Goethe from the taxi driver is not a difference in passions but one passion's different results."


Our stories are important and not the results- some get lucky.

"Yes, I realize you don't know what I'm talking about, because beauty vanished long ago. It vanished under the surface of the noise-the noise of words, the noise of cars, the noise of music-we live in constantly. It has been drowned like Atlantis. All that remains of it is the word, whose meaning becomes less intelligible with every passing year." 

He's saying that we can hear the beauty of silence through some insignificant object falling- silence needs to be heard, for it is beautiful.

Beautiful commentary on what the ostriches told Tamina- about themselves! It's funny, we live our lives thinking that certain things mean something, that people are interested in us. But in fact- they couldn't care less- they are interested in themselves. I also loved how he made fun of the guy who was talking about his orgasms, same as an ostrich talking about what he ate that day. Bullshit- bla bla bla. Constant wasting of words.

"Someone who writes books is either everything (a unique universe in himself and to all others) or nothing. And because it will never be given to anyone to be everything, all of us who write books are nothing. We are unrecognized, jealous, embittered, and we wish the others dead. In that we are all equals: Banaka, Bibi, I, and Goethe."

An extremely cyncial view on writing. I cannot say that I agree- some are more enlightened than others- some understand their lives/experiences more.

"[...] the universe of his blood and thoughts!"

That sounds so funny.

"Worshipers are disarmed when faced by a woman, because they're still in their mothers' shadows. In every woman they see a messenger from their mother and submit to her. Their mothers' skirts spread over them like the sky."

"It's just those details-poorly chosen clothes, slightly flawed teeth, delightful mediocrity of soul-that make a woman lively and real. [...] I assure you, my friend, your small-town woman is just what a poet needs, and I congratulate you!"

That makes me feel so much better about myself :)

"[...] because to understand is to merge and to identify with. That is the secret of poetry.
We consume ourselves in the beloved woman, we consume ourselves in the idea we believe, we bum in the landscape we are moved by."

Love and laughter: "Love can never be laughable. Love has nothing in common with laughter."

Ah sensuality is not love.

"Litost is a state of torment created by the sudden sight of one's own misery."

"The child plays a wrong note on his violin over and over until the teacher goes mad and
throws him out the window. As he falls, the child is delighted by the thought that the nasty teacher will be charged with murder."

"That was litost talking! A man possessed by it takes revenge through his own annihilation.
The child lies shattered on the sidewalk, but its immortal soul is going to be eternally thrilled because the
violin teacher has hanged himself from the window catch."

Poor students- another word for it would be 'loser'- someone who always gets the short end of the stick. And yet like Kundera said, these ones rise higher and higher through their poetry. And then they float high above us- where they belong.

Also a beautiful memorial to his group of Czech poets and the nonsense they used to discuss. 

The possibility of a death of a people comes with death itself.

"[...] because love is a continual interrogation."

"That the infinitude of the exterior world escapes us we accept as natural. But we reproach ourselves until the end of our lives for lacking that other infinitude. We ponder the infinitude of the stars but are unconcerned about the infinitude our papa has within him."

Not specifically our father- but a person close to us. We want to go into the universe of another person and not the universe around us.

This novel is not about the angels- but about the people that were outcasts from the circle- the ones who were lost because they lost something.

Sadness connects one to their past.

"Whoever wishes to remember must not stay in one place, waiting for the memories to come of their own accord ! Memories are scattered all over the immense world, and it takes voyaging to find them and make them leave their refuge !" 

"And so she closed her eyes again to enjoy her body, because for the first time in her life her body was taking pleasure in the absence of the soul, which, imagining nothing, remembering nothing, had quietly left the room."

She found refuge in the past- before everything happened. There was nothing to forget for then, nothing had yet begun.

"If fascination with the word "forward" has become universal, isn't it mainly because death is already speaking to us from nearby?"

Today's music:
There is no more boisterous, no more unanimous agreement than the agreement with being. About
that, Arabs join with Jews and Czechs with Russians. Bodies toss in rhythm, drunk with their awareness that they exist. That is why no work of Beethoven's has ever been experienced with such great collective passion as this unvaryingly repetitive thrumming of guitars." 

YOLO- drunk with the awareness that we exist!!!!

I see- the system makes us want to forget- which is why we join these circles of sensuality- to forget our past, to forget everything. But the narrator couldn't be part of it- he was outside of it all, doomed and yet able to observe and be conscious. Then we forget- we forget what is happening even around us. That is why Kunder mentions the music of today- in fact it is another way of chanting, just like in the soviet regime. Like he says, music has returned to a state before it's great achievements, back when it was primeval. And in this way- just like Tamira, we are able to ignore everything around us, all of our pain.

"Or to put it another way: sexuality freed from its diabolic ties to love had become a joy of angelic simplicity."

The secret of regimes' putting hope in children:
"Children are the future not because they will one day be adults but because humanity is becoming more and more a child, because childhood is the image of the future.
He shouted "Children, never look back !" and this meant that we must never allow the future to be weighed down by memory. For children have no past, and that is the whole secret of the magical innocence of their smiles."

And it's marvelous how today's young generation has no concern for remembering anything- it is a government's dream.

"Whether Celts or Slavs inhabit Bohemia, whether Romanians or Russians conquer Bessarabia,
is more or less the same to the earth."

Thanks Kundera :) So true!

I like his explanation on "the best progressive idea possible"- provocative enough to shock people but modest enough to get supporters- therefore it will always be safe.

"Less well known is that a woman is not entirely defenseless against that gaze. If she is turned into a thing, then she watches the man with the gaze of a thing. It is as if a hammer suddenly had eyes and watched the carpenter grip it to drive in a nail. Seeing the hammer's malicious gaze, the carpenter loses his self-confidence and hits his thumb."

And we say that objectification is bad! He's talking about sex as the transition of a woman from a creature into an object and to a woman again... my what power he gives men! I don't know whether I fully agree...

"It takes so little, a tiny puff of air, for things to shift imperceptibly, and whatever it was that a man was ready to lay down his life for a few seconds earlier seems suddenly to be sheer nonsense."

That border is always with us, hovering.

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The title is very telling- this book was about Laughter and Forgetting. He wrote a lot about forgetting- basically in the political sphere as well as how individuals want to forget certain things in their past. It is all the same, whether politically or individually- the action of wanting to forget is everywhere. The connection though- between the political and how it affects individuals is that politicians use this desire to forget for their own gain. Various causes such as bettering mankind, environmentalism, christianity, feminism or whatever you want- it is all a medium in which we can connect to others and therefore become free. We all want to be part of a ring, to forget our beginnings and our ends- to become infinite.
Marketa was able to have sexual pleasure when she forgot about her husband (imagined him with his head cut off)- he says so in other places- love sometimes is an obstacle to climax. Reminds me of his other story- where a young couple do role playing and they are able to enjoy sex while forgetting their identities.
Michelle and Gabrielle are both angels' names- from what I understood, they were finding sensuality and a sense of freedom within a society through laughter. I may be wrong of course.
Poets are the ones who will forever be rejected from the "circle" and they experience a sense of "litost" which makes them write masterpieces. For if one were in the circle, one wouldn't have a sense to write. But what we learn from the Tamira character is that once we have exterminated the past with our freedom won through sensuality- we are nothing anymore. And she lived out her existence paranoid whether she will step on the line or not (hopscotch). We become obsessed with an insignificant detail- which doesn't give meaning to our lives. So which is better- suffering or ignorance?
The part about laughter I didn't fully understand. Basically laughter is undermining what is serious and real and gives us a freedom to escape all that. And in that way we can forget about our current suffering- but is it from the devil or from the angels? The angels seem to be evil in this book so I don't know.


A lot of concepts- more than I can process right now- so much to think about! I am sure I will read this again someday- when life experience will give me the ability to understand it more. It seems to me that he has so many messages hidden. Oh Kundera- Tell me your secrets! :)


Edgard Varese- apparently the Father of Electronic Music! He's very beautiful.

Pub- Pdf