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“One day I shall no longer exist, and no one will cut the meadow, the thickets will encroach upon it and later the forest will push as far as the wall and win back that land that man has stolen from it. Sometimes my thoughts grow confused, and it is as if the forest has put down roots in me, and is thinking its old, eternal thoughts with my brain. And the forest doesn’t want human beings to come back.”
it’s incredibly hard to say anything about this book that hasn’t already been said in it. this book is a feat, incredibly internal and personal, like a peeling away of every layer of humanity to get to this core meaning, or non-meaning. sometimes it is calm and methodical, and other times it feels like the whole world of human existence is on the narrator’s shoulders.
this book has no chapters, a continuous, never-ending day, the passing of time struck with moments of intense existentialism that sink deep into your bones. simultaneously packed to the brim with meaning but simple, as nature is. The Wall has put roots down in my heart and altered my brain chemistry truly.
it’s incredibly hard to say anything about this book that hasn’t already been said in it. this book is a feat, incredibly internal and personal, like a peeling away of every layer of humanity to get to this core meaning, or non-meaning. sometimes it is calm and methodical, and other times it feels like the whole world of human existence is on the narrator’s shoulders.
this book has no chapters, a continuous, never-ending day, the passing of time struck with moments of intense existentialism that sink deep into your bones. simultaneously packed to the brim with meaning but simple, as nature is. The Wall has put roots down in my heart and altered my brain chemistry truly.