silens-silentium

February 17, 2009

The Time Traveller’s Wife

Filed under: Book Reviews/Thoughts,Life — admin @ 12:58 am

is a book I didn’t finish.

Or rather, it’s a book I can’t bear to finish. I have this irritating habit to read the last 2 pages of every book, even before I start on it, so technically speaking I have finished the book.

It doesn’t feel like I have finished the book though, because if I had done so, the final few pages of the book would be have been marked with tears. I have read many books that are terrific, but stories/themes that resonate with me… are few and hard to find. It’s a story about waiting, about love, and of hoping.

When I was a little boy, I used to think about time-travelling. Everyone does. It’s a novel experience. I wanted to see the future, I wanted to experience the past. Then science and logic intervened. Ideas about butterfly effect, paradoxes, infinite parallel universes complexified it. Made it mind-boggling. Soon it was consigned, like other naive dreams of mine, into the deep recesses of my brain.

Linked to this fantasy of mine was the question of who I’d like to meet if I had the chance to. Answers ranging from famous personalities, my grandparents (both already deceased), aliens, God etc.. At this time now though, the person I’d really like to meet would be my future self. I desperately need reassurance, and it’s something only I myself can provide at the moment.

To be honest, I’ve been doing alot of “time travelling” these few weeks, going to and fro over and over in my mind the possible consequences/effects my (potential) actions might have. Ranges from days, to weeks, and even years. It’s a very tiring thing to do; piercing this veil, and trying to do something that I believe will be right with more certainty. In most cases, the person I need to convince the most is myself. Getting this reassurance from someone who has sailed through this grey fog, and from myself to boot, really is very appealing.

And as for waiting, and the romantic idea of true love, I need not say more about it. Most of you reading this blog know what I feel/think about it. If you don’t, and are really curious, ask me. I’ll gladly buy you a coffee.

I have to apologize though, to the dear person I gave this book to as a birthday present. It was never my intention to buy you something so… beautiful, yet heartrending, for your homecoming to adulthood. I’m glad you enjoyed it very much, and hopefully this might rekindle your appetite for reading once more.

Don’t say you love me
Unless forever
Don’t tell me the meaning
If you’re not gonna stay
Don’t give me this feeling
I’ll only believe it
Make it real
Or take it all away

- The Corrs , Don’t say you love me

October 13, 2008

Lisey’s Story

Filed under: Book Reviews/Thoughts — Nicholas @ 12:59 am

I bought this book just on Tuesday, and finished it today. Very fast, considering that I mostly read the book only while traveling. It was no understatement when I commented to my good friend that Lisey’s Story was one of the best, if not the best, novel by Stephen King.

I’ve always been a fan of Stephen King. Starting from It and The Stand, I’ve always kept a close watch on his releases. I’ve read both books at least 5 times, and have tried to read every book he’s released, including his epic 7-book Dark Tower series. It’s fascinating how he’s able to weave a myriad of stories together into one huge alternate universe, and if I ever were to be a writer, he’d be the standard I’ll aim for.

I’ve always wondered where he got his ideas from. In Lisey’s Story, he gives us a sneak peek into his mind: The Stephen King universe. Terrifying yet hauntingly beautiful, it struck a chord with me: How the story world one envisages in every plot is just a curtain away. It’s a trademark of Stephen King: Like a modern fable, he details how the traditional forces of evil are overcome by the universal childhood belief in love, companionship and faith.

I always remembered how I used to cower under the blanket, thinking that there was always a bogeyman waiting at the foot of the bed, waiting ever so patiently for my feet to peek out of the bed, then dragging me down, down, down into the depths of hell. The bogeyman, who always took the shape of my dad, but with black holes instead of eyes. I remember being afraid of the dark too, how, in that instant of darkness when I press the light switch, but the light is not switched on yet; I’d have this horrible sinking feeling that the light would never turn on, and that sooner or later that thing in the dark will come to get me.

In other words, the over-fertile imagination, like a cup nearly filled with water, threatens to spill over into reality. As I grow older, these fears subsided. Yet, there are times when I wake up and instinctively tuck my legs in, there are nights where I take my handphone into the toilet with me, in case the lights go out on me, there are nights where I dare not turn over for fear of the unknown. The other universe is but a curtain-pull away, and one will never know when he/she consciously or unconsciously flips over.

Curtains and anchors are two themes in this fascinating novel. Unlike his earlier novels, which sometimes were outright violent, Kind has since toned down and matured; but the horror doesn’t diminish. As what someone I discussed with said: The horror in his novels are increasingly psychological rather than physical.

Perhaps the book seems the best to me because it appeals to the writer-child in me, the Nicholas back then who always sought refuge in that world of his to run from solitude and silence, where the bogeymen were always held in check, and where good always triumphed over evil, despite the cost. All his books have, but this book, in essence, is a description of the terrifying lives most authors go through, and this book has really opened old memories which i’ve kept locked away; scenes from the past which kept flashing by as I read the book.

In a way, during the period where I read the book, I was once more able to seek refuge in that universe I used to spend so much time in, away from the complexities and often harsh realities of real life. The story will end, and so will Stephen King die one day. I dread the day he passes on, but until then, I’ll keep reading his novels, and love every one of them; especially Lisey’s Story.

May 21, 2006

Ichi Ritoru No Namida Review

A book review I wrote on A Liter of Tears for my unit:

The Apr-Jun quarter is an especially quarter for us. From BMT dispersals, end of work year meetings to WOPC preparations, there seems no end to the piling load we are tasked with.As we bustle about trying to clear that mountainous load of backlog, we sometimes curse and grumble at the expectations we’re somehow forced to meet. Thus is the harsh reality of the corporate world, of which CPC is also not exempt from. As we rush down the paths our work leads us, have we ever stopped or paused, and take a look around us? Or maybe, reflect on what we have done so far and marvelled at what we have achieved?

I guess this brings me to the book review I’m supposed to present to you: A lesson in appreciating the little things in life. Titled A Liter of Tears, this autobiography chronicles the strugglesof this particular Japanese girl, Kito Aya, against an incurable neurological disease, Spinocerebellar Degeneration. A short description of this scary disease is perhaps needed in order for you,the reader, who has kindly taken time off to read this review, to maybe appreciate this book better. Spinocerellar Degeneration as mentioned earlier, is a neurological disease which affects the cerebellum, causing the neurons in our cerebellum to dissociate. Simply put, the cerebellum controls all our conscious (and sub-conscious) movements, from eating to typing to running. Whenthe cerebellum degenerates, the affected person slowly loses control of his movements, and as it progresses, his/her sense of touch/feeling fades too. This effectively means that the patient wouldslowly be unable to run/walk, be unable to grip things, be unable to talk, be unable to eat/control basic functions of our body. Eventually, at the final stage of the disease, the patient lies immobileon the bed, waiting for his/her life to be taken away. What is most traumatising about this disease is that the patient’s mental faculties remain intact, and he/she is totally aware and conscious ofhis/her degenerating body. What would you do if one day, you were told that you would eventually end up like this?

Back to the story, this autobiography, collated from numerous diary entries written by Kito Aya, documents her indomitable spirit in fighting a hopeless battle against the disease. I was reallytouched and impressed by the way she somehow coped with her slowly degenerating body, how she bravely faced the prospect of being transferred from a normal school to a school for the disabled, how she, despite her immense difficulties, tried to make herself an asset, rather than a liability in anyway possible. Lastly, her abilty to remain so positive about life through a liter oftears, and how she managed to somehow appreciate the little things we take for granted left an indelible mark in my mind.

Lessons to take away from the book, which i’ve tried to classify into 3 broad categories:

1. To the NSFs – I know sometimes you feeling overwhelmed by work, by the weight of expectations on your shoulders. You feel the heat of filling the big shoes your uppers left, and sometimes wonder why others are able to get the easy way out. You curse and swear at the miscellanous work (crudely termed as arrows) assigned to you from time to time, and grumbleon about problematic units and unforgiving chief clerks/parents. Why not change your mindset instead, and view each piece of work you do as an endorsement of your abilities? That even thoughwe may be classified as “service-fit”, and may have suffered injuries, but you, like other guys serving NS out there, are still doing your part for the nation? Take every obstacle at work conquered,each placated chief clerk, each satisfied parent, each directive sent out, as testimony to the amazing innate prowess you have within yourself. Its always easy to lament on one’s inability, but onewill never feel happy/good at the end of the day. Instead, treasure what you have, what you are able to do, and you’ll lead a much happier life. And maybe, the workload/burden might somehow not seem so daunting anymore.

2. To the DXOs, especially those with kids – These days its hard being parents. Educational qualifications are a must for your kids to somehow be assured of a comfortable life. Yet at the same time, other aspects of life should not be ignored. Life is so fragile, we’ll never know what happens tomorrow. As much as your child needs to study, he also needs to interact with his friends, do something he enjoys. Sometimes the pressure and stress of the examinations (especially major ones) grow too huge, tempers are lost, and maybe, too much expectations is placed on your children.Take a step back, realise that it was after all, the thoughts of your children’s well-being in mind that you pushed them so hard in the first place, that all you wanted of them was to feel happy/comfortable.After all, the reason why Aya was able to face up to her disease so bravely was because her mother constantly made sure she felt loved, and that never let her feel that she was a liability/burden to the family. A happy child is always a motivated child, and perhaps, a word of praise/motivation from you today, or a little action showing your love for your children might just pay off in the examinations.

3. To everyone – We subconsciously take alot of things in life for granted: Our relationships, our environment, and sometimes even our abilities. How often have we awakened late in the morning, and then rushing to the toilet to wash up and get changed for work, ignoring the fresh morning air? Do we ever stop along the way to work, and marvel at how hardy the grass growing at the sides can be,or how beautifully the flowers are blooming? Engrossed by our work, have we taken relationships for granted, and let our jobs take precedence over our families, friends and relatives? How often have welooked on enviously at the wealthy, the sportspeople, instead of appreciating the stability we have in our lives, and forgetting the simple fact that we are able to walk/talk/see/hear? Questions that are sobasic, yet these are often the questions that elude us, the questions we somehow know the answer to but somehow never got the chance to address them.

As for myself, after reading this book, I’ve beening making a conscious effort to appreciate what I have. For example, I make it a point to spend at least 3 minutes by my window every morning to take inthe fresh, cool morning air. It’s really wonderful, and does a real good job in shaking off the lethargy. I make it a point to engage in conversation with my parents, busy as we are, for at least 15-20 minutesa day. Before I start work today, I remind myself, as I open my cupboards, that today is another day testifying that I’m an able-bodied worker, and at the end of the work day, I congratulate myself on a jobwell done, and encourage myself to do even better the next work day.

To end off this article, Aya passed away when she was 23, 8 years after the discovery of the disease. Till today, her book has inspired sold over a million copies in Japan, and she continues to be an inspiration to all who know her. The book I read was a Chinese translation of her autobiography; in addition, her autobiography has been adapted into a Japanese drama serial of the same name, and canbe found at any video store. As for the translated book, apparently its sold out in Singapore, 1 month after its launch here, so I guess interested readers would have to wait for the time being, or you could always borrow the book from me.

Thank you once again, for reading this book review. I do hope that something inside this article has touched you, and maybe, helped you in some way or another. Back to your happy bustling lives then!

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