Hot Nerdy Summer
Considerable hours of my life have been dedicated to taking personality tests. When you can’t quite describe yourself you rely on what you hope are well researched, well designed little boxes. If they are created by researchers, by intellectuals, they must surely be good boxes. It took me a while to be rid of boxes. Even still I am in favour of a good descriptive term or two. In my 3rd decade of life, I have taken to swapping boxes the same as I would summer dresses. I embody whatever version suits my fancy. This particular post is dedicated to two boxes I am currently playing with. Hot. Nerdy. I dress myself up. I enjoy my own reflection more. Scrutinize it just a little less. I remember that I love to give my brain a sentence, maybe two, to chew on. To toss. To turn. I take particular pleasure in flipping through pages. Coarse. Fine. Muted. High contrast. Fresh. Salt stained. I like them all. My family has grown accustomed to my ranting about the contents of whatever book I have picked up. I have tried journaling many times. Nothing hits quite the same like imparting your thoughts on another curious mind. I have recently decided to give my family members a much needed reprieve from my chatter. Once more, I have taken to the public with my unrequested, unwarranted opinions. Find below a list of my hot, nerdy summer reads. Maybe a musing or two to go with it.
Starting off strong with a read I just finished. The Unbearable Lightness of Being by Milan Kundera. This book has left me in a state of melancholy for days past its last page. It is written in my favourite writing style. It seems to start off like a romance filled with infidelity but quickly speaks of regimes. The communist regime in Albania ended in 1991. The scars still remain in all the branches of my family tree. Ones that I carry the feeling of, but was lucky enough to never have the words to describe. Reading about it from the perspectives of the main characters in this book gave words to feelings I never understood. I can’t say I am better off for it. At least not yet. But regardless I cherish the understanding gained. It is a history lesson of my own nervous system.
My Brilliant Friend by Elena Ferrante is a tale of friendship. It takes place in the outskirts of Naples in the 1950’s. Two young girls, one more clever than the other influence each other to achieve academic heights. To dream of a better life at a time where education was scarcely seen as practical. Much less useful. Their thirst for knowledge, to escape the boundaries of a simple life resonates deeply with my own personality. The book reads smoothly. Their childhood has blended with memories of my own. I can just easily imagine their legs running through the streets of Naples as I can imagine my own covered in bruises from playing outside in the streets of Tirana.
The Garden of Eden by Ernest Hemingway. I am a huge Hemingway fan. It is again the writing style that draws me in. I can so clearly visualize every scene. This reads beautifully in the summer. I remember reading it in the public transport heading to university. You could say it is the story of the breakdown of a young marriage. I would say it is more a story of identity. Gorgeous imagery of the Côte d’Azur make this a glorious summer read.
Chronicle of a Death Foretold by Gabriel Garcia Márquez. This novella takes place in a small coastal town in Columbia. It tells the story of the murder of a young man. I can’t imagine how this would read in Spanish. Maybe someday I will pick up another language. Despite it being written in a journalistic style, this book is still somewhat ornate. It is non-linear. There is no great mystery. It left me thinking of concepts of societal rules, honour, fate. Of all the ways we absolve ourselves from accountability. How easy it is to justify silence.
Happy reading,
The Abyss.
