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Novels like this appeal to me; novels that are the story of a life. It doesn’t fully matter the type of life - whether it is dull, exciting, weird, tragic, successful, or average. I just find it helpful and encouraging to read about it, in all its awkward humanity, because although each life is entirely different, they all contain common characteristics of struggle and joy (although in different ways). They all contain lessons.
This is a story of a common life, with all its twists and turns, and interactions with other people who encounter it. I like how the author creates and interprets his main character, Roland Baines, from youth to old age and the reflections he has on his experiences. This novel was also brilliant in how it tied to historical events over time. I particularly enjoyed some of the reflections on parenthood and the relationship between a parent and a child. From the very beginning of this novel, those were things that stuck with me.
“Against his chest he felt the baby’s heartbeat, just under twice the rate of his own. Their pulses fell in and out of phase, but one day they would always be out. They would never be this close. He would know him less well, then even less. Others would know Lawrence better than he did, where he was, what he was doing and saying, growing closer to this friend, then this lover…..Until then, he knew everything about him, where he was every minute, in every place….. The long letting go could be the essence of parenthood and from here was impossible to conceive.”
This is a story of a common life, with all its twists and turns, and interactions with other people who encounter it. I like how the author creates and interprets his main character, Roland Baines, from youth to old age and the reflections he has on his experiences. This novel was also brilliant in how it tied to historical events over time. I particularly enjoyed some of the reflections on parenthood and the relationship between a parent and a child. From the very beginning of this novel, those were things that stuck with me.
“Against his chest he felt the baby’s heartbeat, just under twice the rate of his own. Their pulses fell in and out of phase, but one day they would always be out. They would never be this close. He would know him less well, then even less. Others would know Lawrence better than he did, where he was, what he was doing and saying, growing closer to this friend, then this lover…..Until then, he knew everything about him, where he was every minute, in every place….. The long letting go could be the essence of parenthood and from here was impossible to conceive.”