Just finished the Cloud Atlas. Loved it. At times, lyrical and confessional. Both, a coming of age story, and a memoir of a life that felt – to the narrator – twice as long as it was. A spiritual book and yet….not. It was Spiritual in the sense of ones Spirit. What drives us? What makes us who we are? And all the while the characters ask those "Spiritual questions". (Is there a God? What or Whom, do I believe in?)
Don’t misunderstand me. This is no celestine prophecy. The questions the narrator is faced with are brought on by a boys confusion about the world (at war) he’s in, and an old man coming to grips with a buried secret. It didn’t feel like a spiritual book to me. It’s story was more…human.
These are thoughts swirling in my head at three thirty in the morning. I’ve tried to pluck them out and make some sense of them here. I’m probably not doing the book justice. (Now that I think about it, I’m sure that I’m not). Don’t take my word for it. At the very least, check it out at your local bookstore.
And Now…..Dhalgren
This is gonna be a trip. If you thought what I wrote above, about The Cloud Atlas, was confusing - or dumb – just wait till I finish Dhalgren and start going on about it at length here.
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