REREAD: Feb. 8/ 2016
I watched a movie yesterday that led me to reflect a bit on life, humanity and immortality. And eventually, after a train of exhaustive musings on the aforementioned subjects, I decided I wanted to read something pertaining to them. But what? I really don't know of any other books that explore the subject of life and perils of immortality, except for this one. Hence, my reread. I read this in about 3 hours because I didn't indulge too much or peruse the story with tedious attention. It was so easy to get by because I anticipated the story's line of progression. I almost knew it scene by scene.
THE QUESTION AND ANSWER
The question is:
Do I still feel the same way I did when I first read this?
Yes. And no. Yes, I still think I wouldn't appreciate eternal life. I still think It's a long and lonely stretch into nothingness. How tiresome and staggeringly painful would that be? To watch worlds, ages and men pass away while you remain. To have to reinvent and reorient yourself in life. Over and over again, living an ageless and interminable life of love and loss. What a vicious cycle indeed! I shiver just thinking about it. And what about death? Couldn't death be a miracle of it's own. A small, kind, and cynical sort of miracle. It's easy to think like this because at the end of the day, death truly is
all the option we have. I wonder how fast I'll fling my songs of "cursed immortality" out the window if immortality ever happened to show up at my doorstep with a proposition in hand. That's the difference between what is
and what if,
I guess. Me. I'm organic and volatile. I'm the difference, and choice
makes all the difference. Just like Winnie's did. I think of Winnie's choice, how bittersweet the ending of this book was because of it.
And it makes me sad and happy all at once. With the Tucks, my feelings are in an unrivaled state of monopoly. I feel incredibly sad for them.
The one thing they never had was the privilege of choice.
Or at least the illusion of it
, because of course, death again, is imminent and unavoidable.
I honestly wonder how I'll feel the next time I reread this.
FIRST READ: Nov. 29/2015
"Know what that is, all around us, Winnie?" said Tuck, his voice low. "Life. Moving, growing, changing, never the same two minutes together."
It's a wheel, Winnie. Everything's a wheel, turning"
the first snow fell. I had gone through more than half of this book and I was still wondering, "what's so bad about not dying? Seems like a pretty good thing to me."
I took a little break from reading, got out of bed and looked out the window. And there it was, the very first snow. I once hated snow, I'm an autumn baby, and I love spring. I'm not a fan of summer or winter. But over the years, my point of view has shifted a little. I think I like snow and winter a little more with each passing year. It just gets more beautiful every time it comes around.And I like that you know,
that some things just get more beautiful every time you see them. And still there are some things that remain just as beautiful as the first day you saw them,
never really becoming less or more. Unchanging. Somehow you get accustomed to their charm, and the effect is lost on you. It's not that beauty itself is lost or diminished, you just aren't startled or awed by it anymore. I think I like the first variant
more.I know, I know.
But what does this have to do with the review? Well I thought about it. What if there was snow all year round? What if spring didn't give life, summer didn't celebrate it, autumn didn't kill it, and winter didn't bury it in heaps of white? A life without change. Everlasting stagnancy. Would that life be as precious? I don't think I'd appreciate nature and the seasons as much, or think them as beautiful. I don't think I'd like it at all.
Time and change are all part of the entirety of life. Birth and death, seasons changing, trees lush and barren
--it's the circle of life,
and nothing is more beautiful.
And that's what this book is
You can't have living without dying. So you can't call it living, what we got
are a family doomed to live an endless life, they bear the curse of immortality. Ten year old Winnie Foster
is a sheltered and miserable girl who longs for freedom and dreams of running away. The lives of the two parties become entwined, and Winnie learns a little about the value of life in the first week of August, in the year 1880.
But dying's part of the wheel, right there next to being born. You can't pick out the pieces you like and leave the rest. Being part of the whole thing, that's the blessing.
This story, the writing, the message,
all of it was just simple and beautiful. A lesson and toast: Here's to dying, but