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Geneen Karstens wrote:I'm glad to see that I was not the only one who didn't enjoy this book. Maybe it's. Because I just finished a philosophical
novel, but I simply could not get into The Elegance of the Hedgehog. As a matter of fact I didn't finish it. I am ashamed to say that because I rarely quit a book i've started.
We have to live with certainty that we'll get old and that it won't look nice or be good or feel happy. and tell ourselves that it's now that matters: to build something, now, at any price, using all our strength. Always remember that there's a retirement home waiting somewhere and so we have to surpass ourselves every day, make every day undying. Climb our own personal Everest and do it in such a way that every step is a little bit of eternity.
Never in my life have I felt so at ease. How can I explain? For the first time, I feel utterly trusting, even though I am not alone. Even with Manuela, to whom I would gladly entrust my life, I do not have this feeling of absolute security that comes when one is sure that understanding is mutual. Entrusting one's life is not the same as opening up one's soul, and although I love Manuela like a sister, I cannot share with her the things that constitute the tiny portion of meaning and emotion that my incongruous existence has stolen from the universe.
Poverty is a reaper: it harvests everything inside us that might have made us capable of social intercourse with others, and leaves us empty, purged of feeling, so that we may endure all the darkness of the present day.
...for those who are content, class struggle suddenly seems less important, I muse, surprised that my rebellious consciousness has yielded in this way.
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