Being in love, in love of Being

I had come almost half way into my last read, "Immortality" by Milan Kundera, when it occurred to me that this really is the book he should have called "The Unbearable Lightness of Being". And guess what, about 50 or so pages later, he says it too (being a character himself in this novel)! The theme is really image. Can we separate our own being from our image, that is the question? Again, he returns to explore the kitsch mensch, calling her Homo Sentimentalis this time. She is the person who lives through her own image, who is constantly on stage with at least one faithful in the audience - herself. And trying to catch the attention of others, striving for that kind of immortality that consists of memory replayed again and again in peoples minds, in some cases with literature as a vehicle.

I always feel, when reading Kundera, that he lives in exactly the same world as I do. I read "The Unbearable Lightness of Being" when I was about twenty, and it was the first novel that I underlined whole paragraphs in and wrote in the margin of. I then gave my copy to a man that meant something to me, but I have a fresh copy on my shelf that I have been meaning to re-read anytime now. Soon. "Slowness" is another of his books that made a big impression on me. I haven´t read them all, I tend to want to save some of the good stuff for later.

As always, I find that the books I´m reading at the moment all have something in common that is somehow connected to what I´m struggling with at the moment. Being would be a good word for it. I´m really trying to get out of the idea that I´m somehow always performing in one way or another, that I´m always part of a narrative. Even when I´m alone. A friend once said that it was as if what happened to her didn´t count unless she had first told all her sisters about it. I know what she meant, for me it was all about writing it in my diary.

The goal is to reach a new level of comfort, I suppose, and get to a place where I can forget myself and just get on with doing. I really want to do more.

I think everyone should read Kundera. He really is a man with a message, someone who has a mission. I think he wants to free us from our own illusions about ourselves, and that must be a good thing. Only he who has nothing to loose is really free, I suppose. He also writes wonderful stories, excellent prose, the reader is never bored. Or at least not this reader. Perhaps I´m wrong, maybe he is not for everyone. I don´t know. I just know I love him. Really love him.

Imagine being an oak tree. How unbearable is that?