Thursday, February 19, 2009

Revolutionary Road

I've just finished Richard Yates's book " Revolutionary road".
I rearly write about books on my blog, not because I don't have anything to say about them or because I don't read, on the contrary. I am actually an avid reader, one that thinks each and every spare minute should be focused on learning something new, and what better way of learning than reading? If I have 5 minutes in the car before picking up my son from school, this is 5 WHOLE minutes time, total immersion in the beauty of the imagination, knowledge and wisdom. Nothing else can ever replace for me the feeling that reading of a book gives me.
Why haven't I discussed this on my blog then, you would ask ( or not, but I'll answer anyway) ?
I have a simple explanation or at least one that makes it quite obvious for me.
The book and I, this is like a private relationship, a slow and intimate dance, or like a meek, yet passionate affair, that makes you more alive and breathing, but you can't quite discuss it with others. It's not that you are being ashamed of it. Is more of a jealousy kind of thing. You don't want to share your private emotions. It's that simple.
But this book.
I don't know what is it about it. It's just something that waits to burst out of me like an alien.
I am sceptical about movies based on a book, but I'll see this one. Even if it disappoints me. Even if it doesn't remotely reflect my feelings.
What more corny than 2 people's private drama exposed in so many pages, for everybody to read? Nothing new to say, nothing new to show. A painful reminder of the reality many of us live in. Same words, same mistakes, same perfect little hell of a life. Isn't it enough that we live it? Do we have to read about it?
Yes!!! My goodness, a 1000 times yes! We do have to read about it! To let ourselves see it, feel it and most importantly to talk about it.
My mind is racing right's almost 2 am and I just couldn't go to sleep once I've finished the book. I apologize for the stream of consciousness type of writing, but it's the best I can do at this hour.
Yates with his book reminds me very much of Salinger and his " Catcher in the Rye". It's not like their style of writing is the same, it's more of the feeling it gives you when you read the lines.
It's a strange kind of feeling, one that I can compare with being sick to your stomach with its honesty(and I certainly don't mean this in a bad way), shed pitiful tears for the unagreeable main characters or simply fill with compassion at the same time. Like you've just learned a dreadful dirty secret. You KNOW!
There are 2 other books from the many many more I've read that have ever left me with this feeling. Feeling that I would burst with emotion, that I am going to be sick with it's brutality and that I love it at the same time.
It's almost unbearable and at the same time it's unthinkable that you might not be touched by it.
I think now it's time to stop, before I'm half asleep.
Read the book and let me know what YOU think!

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