Finished reading “Identity” by Milan
Kundera some time back. It’s one thin book. What is most interesting about his
books is the way in which his characters are so realistic, how much they think,
wonder, and speculate about things. Their interplay is very absorbing as can be
seen within some of the predisposed dreams of various characters.
Identity is the most important thing for
anyone in this in the world. It is what sets us apart from others. It’s our
private domain.
In this book, for the two lovers, Chantal
and Jean-Marc, their identities are as open as possible but still in their
imaginations, they see a
different person. Maybe it is the way we see others.
Despite being very exposed about our identity to our loved one, we still have
certain notions. The person maybe, is an open book but it might not seem so to
us. What I like about the book is that the same situation has been told twice
in different perspectives. That’s what
is very interesting. And after reading it I had a different outlook apart from
that of both the perceptions.
Jean-Marc knows that Chantal is his only
link to the happiness in this world so he
constantly worries about her, wants
to make her happy always. He is afraid that she might get away from him. He
does not really know her as he feels she isn’t what she seems. He doesn’t want
the link between them to be lost. But he doesn’t know how to make her hold on
to him. He does what he thinks is right and it kind of drives her away from
him. And Chantal is on a look out for the identity of an anonymous admirer who
sends her letters. The anonymous admirer keeps on writing about her and not a
word about himself. She has this feeling that only he understands her. Not
Jean-Marc. Now what happens after that……I can hardly tell it all.
One very important aspect I liked about the
book is where Chantal thinks that we are not free from anything. We are
constantly being hounded. Even in the womb, we are probed. Even after death, at
times burial can’t escape speculations. One can be exhumed and quested upon.
Only escape from it all is the crematory fire.