Everything I Know About Love by Dolly Alderton

(As soon as I woke up, writing this entry is the first thing I'm doing. See how committed I am to this? I am having difficulties navigating dreamwidth, though. As a a hag, it is very difficult for me to learn new technology. My brain just refuses to understand anything, at least not with the same ease as 10 years ago. I can't seem to type down anything when I'm in the "post" page. I'm doing all this in quick update section of the homepage. My dedication to this challenge I've set up for myself is truly astounding me.)

I severely misjudge this book. As a resident scrooge and hater of romance, I thought this book was going to be romantic relationships. I frankly didn't want to be seen reading this in public (not that I ever go out just to hang out these days) because I have a street cred to uphold. I didn't even want to read this book in the first place but due to circumstances mentioned in the previous post (i.e wanting a fun and light read to get away from the miserable and dark life that I am living), I thought, "Why not?"

I am humbled to say that this might make it into my top 5 books of the year. (I only ever choose top 5 because I frankly don't read enough books to make a top 10 list. I am slow reader. I am a busy person. I do not have the brain capacity to make a top 10 list.)

This book is by no means about romantic relationships. Or at least not solely. Dolly's journey through the vicissitudes of romance eventually leads her to the profound realization that friendship is love. Friendship is perhaps love that runs deeper than romance and lust. The chapter Homecoming is basically a love letter to all her girl friends and it made me equal parts happy and so fucking sad. I have lost a lot this year. I don't think I have a single friendship left. It hurts to admit that the friendships I thought would last me a lifetime now runs so tepid. It hurts even more when there is not great or dramatic fall out. It was just a natural progression of life. I could blame myself for not reaching out more; for refusing to be vulnerable or being afraid of reaching out when I need it. Perhaps in my insistence to avoid being a nuisance, I've alienated my friends when what I want most is to be comforted. Reading about how much Dolly loves her friends and has managed to keep her relationship with them made me yearn for a time when I could also confidently express the same. I still love my friends but everything is different now. Tiny, imperceptible shifts have now compounded to something so huge that it is looming over my head: the realization that I have truly no one in this world. I hate to be dramatic but that is the theme of my this current period of tumultuousness of my life.

That aside, I couldn't quite relate with Dolly's experiences. I've never been a wild person. I've never had the desire to go out and party. I've never thought of a night out drinking as a fun or exciting activity. I've never been in a relationship much less have romantic exploits. I've always been mediocre. I've always lived a mundane life full of schoolwork and now, work. Has anyone similar to me (in the sense that I'm a boring bitch) ever written a memoir? I would love to see how someone can spin something out of the mundanity of this life I'm living.

The last parts about Dolly's fear and finally, acceptance of turning 30 made me feel scared but also somehow relieved? I'm 26 and I'm already worrying about getting older. I'm relieved that someone is telling me the worry is premature. I should wait until my 29th to start beating myself up about the inevitable procession of time. At the same time I'm scared because I understand what she was afraid of. I understand the fear of doors closing. I understand the fear of not achieving anything amazing anymore because everything you do at 30 is just normal shit that 30-year olds should be doing. Not that I think I will ever achieve anything remarkable even if you give me 20 years to live out my 20's. I firmly believe that I would still be the same sad sack. But the fact that even the possibility is permanently over is what's scary and depressing and frustrating.

I love this book best when it's not talking about boys and romance. Although I feel like a lot of the parts necessarily have to have romance and boys as preliminary to whatever it is she really wants to talk about. I think I want to revisit this book in the future. Maybe I'm a late bloomer. Maybe I'll start to understand her obsession with romantic love when I'm 30, who knows. But for all the other parts, I feel like I know her and I understand her.

Heaven by Meiko Kawakami

This book is lucky it has a really beautiful cover otherwise I wouldn't have shown interest on it. I'm confused about why exactly people find this good. I'm not saying it's horrible either but it's a 3-star book at most. Did I read this too fast? Did I miss some nuances in my desire to finish it in one day? I do admit I sped through the last playground scene. It was a bit much with little to no merit to it. If it did have something to say, I see that there is no way I could have agreed with it.

Is this book supposed to be poignant? Am I supposed to relate to any of these character's world view? If there is any character whose viewpoints I could sympathize with, it would be the main character. I felt happy that he took steps to fix what he wanted to be fixed. I can't accuse him of cowardice for not standing up to his bullies all this time. It was brave of him to confront Momose, unlike Kojima whose entire philosophy seemed to be to just bear every bullshit life throws at you. I'm sorry but I know a lot of words were wasted on her trying to explain herself but in the end, I still don't understand her. Maybe it's because I live in a country where everyone is constantly self-flagellating as a way to appease their Christian guilt that I just find anything that even remotely smells of self-pity and forbearance for forbearance's sake mildly disgusting. What was her point anyway? That it's okay to suffer because her suffering has meaning? On the other side of the spectrum we have nihilistic Momose who thinks suffering has no meaning so whether you suffer or not doesn't matter. He reminds me of Camus' Meursault. I am inclined to agree that life is meaningless but to deliberately ignore the suffering that your actions bring just because life is meaningless? I feel like anything I say to counter that would just be falling right into Momose's trap. He would hit me with a "Gotcha! That's exactly why being an asshole is permissible!" What a horrid and very interesting character.

I guess over all I'm just confused about what the book is trying to say and who it is talking to. The ending certainly seemed very hopeful which I appreciate but it was overpowered by the pervasive nihilism throughout the book. I'm obviously not saying that only happy and positive books can be considered good but the message here is a bit murky. I'm trying to read reviews for it but my toxic trait is that I only want to read negative reviews of things I don't like so that I can feel validated about my opinion and so far, people seem to really love this book. Maybe it's time to see what others have to say, even the positive ones. Maybe I AM missing something. I'll update you if I change my opinion. Or not. Who gives a shit, right, Momose?

EDIT: I just read an amazing review that really pushed the scales out of my eyes. I didn't even know a "novel of ideas" was a thing! So that's what books like these are called. This is why you always refer to people who are smarter than you before spouting bullshit. Anyway, I change my mind. This book isn't bad. It's not supposed to have a 'message' because it's exploring Nietzschean ideas. I am genuinely amazed! I should read book reviews more.