Life is Elsewhere

So I just finished a book, Milan Kundera’s “Life is Elsewhere” this afternoon. I loved this book. Possibly one of the most beautifully written books I’ve ever read. It was like a novel-length poem, every line conjured these beautiful images and was so expressive.

I would definitely describe this book as a love story, both good and bad, between “the Poet” and his mother, his mother and his father, the poet and his various lovers, and with himself. It really made me think though, especially how he described love in so many different directions and from so many different angles. It especially made me think a lot about my own relationship, (for the sake of his anonymity, i’ll call him F. F and I have been together for like, forever lol, and he’s amazing, I love him to bits :) specifically how it’s changed from what i anticipated before we got together.

The Poet spent so much of his life anticipating and waiting and preparing for the “greats”of his life (great love, great career, great honor) that he sometimes over looked when he had something great right in front of him, just because it wasn’t what he expected. I noticed I’ve been doing the same… and it’s gotta stop. F was actually teasing me a few weeks ago telling me that I put entirely too much faith in the idea that my life is going to turn into a RomCom, which while I don’t entirely agree with (see my last post, lol) I do get where he’s coming from. Trying to squeeze F and I’s relationship into an episode of Grey’s or a scene from “Love Actually” is only going to make me scrutinize, instead of appreciating F for who he is: a smart, goofy, not-super-duper-gushy man. He may not have a white horse or whatever, but when it comes down to it, he shows how he feels in other ways, which are more than ok. Mucho thanks for Milan Kundera for the indirect relationship advice lol.

Anyways, back to the book lol. I’d definitely recommend it to anyone who loves poetry, beautiful language, or any hopeless romantics like myself :) I’m really glad i read the book, especially since it’s kind of outside of the realm of books I’ve read before. (I mean, when’s the last time you ran to the library to pick up a Czechoslovakian love story? Yea, I thought so. ) In my 2009 reading escapade, I think that picking up random books will definitely be good for me, to see life from perspectives outside of my own. looks like it’s already helping :)


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