I've been thinking about this book a lot lately. Then, this morning as I tidied up my room, I came across an old journal--a journal that documented in painful detail one of the most challenging times in my life. I never want to repeat the experiences mulled over in that journal. It reminded me of the way Tereza was tethered to her emotions, so utterly committed to them in the most fundamental way. I've read this book a couple of times, and it's one of those books that shifts meaning a little each time I read it. The Times review, published in 1984, isn't a gushing one, but one thought caught my eye:
"We can hope, with Milan Kundera, not to enact one of his
elegant paradoxes in our separate choices and discover that either one
leads to the same exhausted end."
The movie is definitely worth seeing, but obviously lacks the nuance of the book. But it's hard to go terribly wrong with Daniel Day-Lewis and Juliette Binoche.
Watch it here:
The movie is definitely worth seeing, but obviously lacks the nuance of the book. But it's hard to go terribly wrong with Daniel Day-Lewis and Juliette Binoche.
Watch it here:
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