The Society of Reluctant Dreamers - ending the semester on a high

-

 This book was definitely up there among my favourites of this term. It was simultaneously light and dealt with themes that I connected with, so I was able to engage with it more than I could with some other books we read. There were many themes involved in the novel, but the one that resonated with me the most was that of identity. On pages 117 and 118 (of my pdf - not sure what the page numbers are for a physical copy), there is a discussion of nationality and identity. I found it funny that Clarice Lispector was mentioned; though I didn't personally read her book this term, it still felt like a fun little crossover. 

As someone who has Iranian heritage, was born and raised in the UK, and is now living in Canada, I've thought a lot about how nationality may or may not be part of our identities. I would still consider myself Iranian if I didn't have citizenship, though I'm not sure that I'll ever consider myself Canadian even if I get the passport. I just think it's interesting how some places become ingrained in our identities, while some don't ever get to that status. 

Another quote that got the wheels in my head turning was: "Pacifism, my dear brother, is like mermaids: it can only breathe in the sea of fantasy, reality doesn't suit it", (p132 of my pdf). It reminds me of the quote from Soldiers of Salamis I discussed last week; "to me a civilised country is one where people don't have to waste their time on politics". Both contain a thread of idealism, though one is idealistic and the other shuts it down. It also makes me think about my stance on pacifism. Does it really work? Maybe it does. I feel like I could argue both sides. 

Overall, I think this novel did a good job of illustrating the places in between; neither fully good, nor fully bad, neither completely real, nor completely fantastical. The line that struck me as illustrating this idea well was: "Yes, he's a thug and a good father. I don't like the thug, but I love the father me is to me". It's a reminder of all the shades of grey in life and in people. I find it a more balanced view of the world, and an understanding that comes with age; 10 year old me certainly wouldn't have been able to fully comprehend it, and I think 30 year old me will have an even stronger grasp of the concept. 

The question I now pose to you is about pacifism. Do you think it can only exist in fantasy? Or can it survive in our current world?

Comments

  1. JonApril 4, 2022 at 2:56 PM

    On nationality and identity, Benchimol is a couple of times berated for not being sufficiently Angolan, or sufficiently in touch with Angola. What do we think of the fact that he leaves the country at the end of the book then? (And it may or may not be relevant that, I understand, Agualusa himself no longer lives in Angola... are either he or Benchimol any the less Angolan for that?)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Deeba MehrApril 4, 2022 at 3:16 PM

      As a bicultural person I do sometimes feel that I'm not enough of either of my cultures, but I don't hold it against him that he left. Are we any less British for having left the UK?

      Delete
    2. JonApril 4, 2022 at 3:20 PM

      Whatever "British" may be... :)

      Delete
  2. AsthaApril 4, 2022 at 3:19 PM

    I really like your thought-provoking question Deeba. I do believe that one can make an individual choice to be a pacifist or a conscientious objector to wars. However, we historically see no example of nation-states ever coming to an agreement on giving up their arms or nuclear weapons, so it makes me a pessimist in terms of whether it's realizable.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Swann's Way - making my ability to read feel like Proust without the Po

-
 Let me preface all this by saying that I did not understand what I was reading, and this was further emphasised to me when I read the sparknotes pages after finishing " Combray ". I really wanted to fall in love with this text. In Search of Lost Time by Marcel Proust has an almost revered place in my home; my stepdad, who is at the beloved centre of our family first read Swann's Way when he was my current age (20), albeit in the Persian translation. Since then, he has read it in English too, and is learning French for the sole purpose of being able to read all seven volumes of this masterful novel in the original language. I'm not kidding, Proust is the reason why he is learning French, and why the act of language-learning is a constant for us all. I didn't understand what was going on at all. I didn't even realise that things were going on. I didn't pick up a plot, I couldn't follow the paragraph-long sentences—may I refer to a 192-word long sente
Read more

bonjour tristesse my old friend

-
 Of all the books on the reading list, this is the only one I've read before. In fact, I studied it in the original language as part of my French A-Level just before I left the UK. And to be honest, I didn't like it then, and I don't like it now.  I feel sorry for Cecile, but I just know that I would find her incredibly irritating if I had the misfortune of encountering her in real life. That being said, the book brings such vivid images of an upscale, movie-like experience of the French Riviera that I appreciate it just for that. I also think it's kind of fun that the book was so controversial upon its release. They just weren't ready for Cecile's unladylike-ness or for all the raunchy behaviour going on. As I mentioned, I don't really like Cecile. In the book she's 17, Sagan herself was 18 at the time of publication, I myself was 17 when I read it for the first time, and at the ripe old age of 20 I can make the executive, yet humble, declaration that w
Read more

Paris Peasant - A novel that is not a novel? How novel!

-
Louis Aragon's Paris Peasant was certainly an easier read for me than Proust's Swann's Way was. I imagine it is to do with the translation, though of course the writing style of the original author. In fact, I found myself thinking about translation a lot while reading this book. There were parts that had very interesting metaphors and jokes that I would love to see in the original language. I especially noticed this in the F.M.R. section where even the translator made a note that the original pun worked so much better. I suppose this is one of the weaknesses of translation; you can never conserve all the layers of meaning within a word or a phrase because you always have to choose one. If you can find a way to make it work with more than one meaning then you're lucky. Before starting the book, I knew that Aragon was part of the surrealist, avant-garde movement and you can tell. Paris Peasant has been described as a "novel-that-[is]-not-a-novel" and I agree wi
Read more