The Man who Never was

White Nights by Fyodor Dostoevsky My rating: 3 of 5 stars Not the most engaging of Dostoevsky's works. But it has a certain sobering, melancholic, romanticism about it. As someone who is prone to taking long contemplative walks, especially at the early hours past midnight, this spoke to me. The way that our female character is written, one is also left to ponder, who exactly was it that hurt Fyodor's heart in such a callous way, that now they have the misfortune of having their legacy living in infamy in the annals of literature. Our main character is clearly a stand in for the writer himself. Who somehow managed to be the first simp in recorded literature (I assume), to get friend zoned by the object of his affection, with the good ol 'It's not you, it's me', and 'you're like a brother to me; we can still be friends, right?', one two punch to the gut, that most cohorts would empathize with, to this day. ...

The Death of Ivan Ilyich by Leo Tolstoy My rating: 5 of 5 stars I got interested in reading this book, after a reference to it, in a memoir by a lesser-known author. He himself was dealing with crippling poverty, mental health issues, as well as from the general indifference that the world had to his life. On his second or third suicide attempt in Kanyakumari, after preparing to swallow a bottle of pills, he read the book that he had brought along on the journey. Reading it was a life-changing experience; quite literally. Driving him away from the embrace of death, and giving him the hope to keep living, no matter how difficult life might present itself as. Not that I think about it, I should sit down and write my thoughts on that book, before this one. The book is Visappu Pranayam Unmadam വിശപ്പ് പ്രണയം ഉന്മാദം by Muhammed Abbas, for those of you who are able to read it in the original language. Ivan Ilyich is a quintessential Tolstoy character; a...