Almost done with Compass by Mathias énard and he mentions quite a few books and writers, some of which I know already and are about to know soon, and one of them is The Blind Owl and his description of that book caught my attention more than the others so I looked for it and found it and since it's only 88 pages long I figured I knock it out in one sitting.
Yet another short novel that will forever haunt me, I have mixed feelings when I can reflect alongside a book and writer, on one hand it is reassuring and feels as a little bit of guidance for those who have had to go through these thoughts, and at the same time I don't really want to know that others have to go through this as well and it makes me feel like I have nothing new to find for myself. Through out the book I get the sense that the writer really hates writing about himself yet he still has to justify, or make amends as to, his existence so with what little he has he tries to glamorize it with prose and metaphors to help personify the silence, either to help himself cope or in hopes that someone might understand, or at least take to time to. I don't know how much of it was fictional or based off his life, all of it could be in his head for all I know, but being stuck in one place will actually act as adrenaline for you imagination and once it's let loose there is no stopping it.
Anywho, if anyone else has read it than I'd love to know your thoughts on it.
by NotBorris