Insightful.

This single word holds a great deal of significance. It implies a deep understanding and perception that goes beyond the surface. An insightful person has the ability to see things that others may overlook, to analyze situations from multiple angles, and to draw meaningful conclusions.

Insightfulness is a valuable trait in many aspects of life. In business, it can help leaders make informed decisions and stay ahead of the competition. In relationships, it allows for better communication and a deeper connection with others. In personal growth, it enables us to learn from our experiences and make positive changes.

To cultivate insightfulness, one must be open-minded, curious, and willing to explore new ideas. It also requires the ability to think critically and objectively, to question assumptions, and to seek out different perspectives. With practice and dedication, anyone can develop this valuable trait and gain a deeper understanding of the world around them.

In the beginning of the novel, Kundera poses a philosophical problem based on Nietzsche's postulate of the idea of eternal recurrence, in which every act bears the weight of unbearable responsibility. He unfolds a novel about responsibility before us. Yes, about responsibility, because it is precisely this that "weighs down" being and its absence "lightens" it. Responsibility can be of different kinds - in love relationships, towards the country and society. This is what the writer ponders. The story takes place in the late 1960s, during the Prague Spring, during the anti-Soviet protests that were suppressed in August 1968 by the Soviet troops entering the country.

At the same time, the writer points out the moral perversion of the world based on the non-existence of return, with forgiveness in advance and cynical permissiveness. The principle "Once is not at all" - that magic wand that removes the burden of responsibility. Lightness gives freedom, including freedom from responsibility, but is this really good? The heaviness of being, burdened with responsibility, makes actions weighed, a person is not free from his conscience, but his actions have the weight of significance. It is precisely responsibility that makes him a worthy person. The pair lightness - complexity or lightness - heaviness is considered throughout the novel. And although the heroes strive for lightness, their choice invariably turns out to be on the side of the heavy.

The Wisdom of Uncertainty

He presents this novel's unique definition to Kundera during its creation, thus opening this monument of 20th-century literature. Man has but one life, and the significance of his choices is balanced by the tenuousness of his existence. It is impossible to rewind time and know what his story would have been like had he chosen different paths. To endure this predicament and avoid endless regrets, we might as well embrace life as it is.

The story is widely known, yet it's worth delving into because of its beauty. Tomas, a brilliant surgeon living in Prague in 1968, is more interested in his romantic conquests than in political unrest. He marries Teresa, a tormented young woman consumed by jealousy and political and amorous ideals. Feeling suffocated, Tomas indulges in multiple affairs, especially with his friend Sabina, an individualist photographer who loves freedom.

During the Prague Spring, Tomas and Teresa flee to Switzerland, but the young woman cannot bear to be far from home and returns alone. Tomas then has to choose between a carefree Swiss life where he can thrive professionally and satisfy his longing for love or join Teresa, lose his job, and face communist repression. He returns to Prague, becomes a tile washer, and the couple moves to the countryside with their dog, Karenina.

Like all great literary works, accessing this book is a profound experience. The title alone demands careful consideration. I approach this polished prose with a sense of wonder. Nietzsche is quoted in the first sentence, and one must pay close attention. At times, I had to reread certain paragraphs as the transitions between sentences could be a bit challenging. It's important to note that a philosophical commentary accompanies each character's decision. Remember, never invite Milan Kundera to a dinner party. Suddenly, getting fully immersed in the story can be difficult as the digressions make the reader more of a spectator. I realized that the author wasn't trying to simply capture my attention but rather lead me to a deeper reflection. It took me a long time (as I'm only human) to understand that this detachment is meant to prompt思考 on the unique meaning of life. I'm glad I waited until I was more mature to engage with this reading. Otherwise, my youthful lightness might have been overcome by the weight of the story.

So, it's not just a beautiful love story set against the backdrop of Russian tanks. Nor is it the novel of an intellectual exiled due to the communist regime and its myths. Its characters are both victims of the story and the result of their personal choices. Instead, I believe it is a profound meditation on individual freedom and the opposing forces that shape our lives.

Every reader of this novel remembers this literary journey. The end of the Karenina dog's life is approaching. Thomas and Teresa's attachment to this animal speaks volumes about their humanity, more so than all the emotions that tortured their romantic passion.

There are numerous aspects in this book that are truly unbearable, none of which have any connection to the lightness of being.

One of the most unbearable elements is the blatant misogyny that pervades the entire text. It is truly disheartening to see such a negative and demeaning attitude towards women.

Another aspect that is equally difficult to stomach is the overwhelming self-importance of the book. It seems to think far too highly of itself, as if it is the most profound and important work ever written.

I have read this book two or three times simply because those around me love it so much. However, every time I do, I get the distinct impression that it was penned by either a fifteen-year-old boy who is full of himself or a narcissistic sociopath who just happens to have a real talent for language.

Surprisingly, there is something really quite comic about the book, especially when it comes to any of the scenes related to seduction or sex. This becomes incredibly obvious if you ever decide to watch the movie adaptation.

Of course, there are very pretty and even poignant parts of the novel. But it is so overly self-congratulatory and entitled about its own prettiness that it just comes off as being clever for the sake of being clever, and more than a little lacking in soul.

It's a real shame that a book with such potential could end up being so flawed and ultimately unfulfilling.

I have read a certain book three times. The first time was 7 years ago. When I started it, I decided to put it aside for another time as it wasn't suitable for me then. I had a specific situation in mind for reading it again. And whenever I was in that situation, I would go back to it. And now that other time has come. :)

I read it. Once in Persian and once in English. Almost simultaneously.

(The star ratings of the English version and the Persian version are different.)

Actually, what happened was that I was reading it and a friend on Goodreads told me to definitely refer to the English version as well. And I'm so glad someone told me and I didn't turn a deaf ear!

Because...

I can't believe it.

The book has been chopped up chapter by chapter. Censored after censorship. There are stories that you don't understand at all. And you think the book is philosophical (!) and logical that you don't understand. A text that you read and think the problem is with your understanding. But,

The English text was there and there was no difficulty or lack of understanding in the process. And reading it was really enjoyable. So much so that I hope it has improved my ability to read English books.

That is, the problem is that I don't understand how this book is so popular in Iran. Why everyone loves it so much. Do they really understand the story? I don't think if I had only read this, I would have liked the book at all. Many very important parts of the story have been deleted in the Persian version. From erotic scenes to the relationships between people, the events that happened to them, political beliefs, conversations about God, even about meat-eating! And...

And those that weren't deleted were written in a way that you don't understand properly.

That is, there were many situations where I would read a paragraph and then go to the English version and only then would I understand what was being said! Even though there was no censorship issue in particular. And what makes me angry is that I used to consider Pourya Homayounpour among the good and reliable translators...

Reading it was a strange and wonderful experience for me. It made me think a lot and I really liked it and established a deep relationship with it.

***But my strong request is that either don't read it, or read the English version, or read both simultaneously.

For a long time, I haven't loved a book so much! It has directly entered the top 10 of my favorite books.

Some days ago, I watched the documentary about Milan Kundera (HBO). The Czech author has not given any interviews or had any appearances in the press since 1985. He has withdrawn to France, saying that an artist who does his job well doesn't need to give additional explanations. Any question a journalist might have, he can find the answer by reading his literature (an attitude that sometimes reminded me of Salinger). The documentary seemed very good to me, and as soon as I finished it, I went downstairs to the bookstore on the ground floor and bought "The Unbearable Lightness of Being". I had read books by Kundera before, but I hadn't reached his most famous one. It's a fabulous read. If you haven't reached it either, I beg you to do so

Rereading this novel for the second time, I was truly startled to note what a remarkable novel of ideas it is.

The first time I read it, I was quite young and my focus was primarily on the captivating love stories. I identified mostly with the serious lover, Tereza, and her tumultuous love affair with the untamable womanizing doctor Tomas. And then there was the free-spirited Sabina, who completed the triangle. I hardly paid any attention to Sabina's rather unassuming Swiss boyfriend Franz.

This time around, I find myself equally attracted to the profound ideas presented in the book. The concepts of lightness versus weight, intention versus the fortuitous, and how they are embodied in the characters are truly fascinating. There's the earthy Tereza, who arrives at Tomas's doorstep with a heavy suitcase, symbolizing the heaviness of her love and attachment. Tomas, on the other hand, is light, yet he takes on the burden of Tereza from the very beginning. And Sabina, who fights for her freedom and views betrayal as an existential position.

The narrator poses the question, "Which shall we choose, weight or lightness?" Which one is considered positive? "The absence of a burden causes man to be lighter than air, to soar into the heights, take leave of the earth and his earthly being, and become only half real, his movements as free as they are insignificant."

Having spent a significant amount of time in the literature of Russia, I now understand far better the respect for the burden and the willingness to shoulder it. Insights on various aspects, from love to nationhood, from uniformity to fidelity, are examined both within the story and directly by the narrator. It shows how these issues play out, not only stemming from our basic personalities but also from our attempts to subvert or liberate ourselves from our basic instincts and preferences. I truly love how the characters in this book struggle with the ideas of "how to be."

Oddly enough, in this rereading, my favorite sections of the book have little to do with the romantic story and are mostly related to the incomprehensibility of people to one another. In the little chapters that make up "A Short Dictionary of Misunderstood Words," Kundera illustrates the extraordinary differences between Sabina, an artist and now a Czech emigre in Switzerland, and Franz, her stolid Swiss married lover. By taking a single word, such as "parade," and showing the different meanings it holds for each of the lovers, he demonstrates how mutually un-understandable they must be to one another. It's like a Venn diagram where the circles only touch at that one point - the word itself. Sabina, having grown up under Communist conditions and being forced to participate in parades and the required "happiness" and lock-step, becomes a rebel. Meanwhile, Franz, an academic who feels divorced from the real, longs to be one of the mass and recalls the demonstrations in 1968 where he truly felt at one with others.

This is a glorious book, a political story, a philosophical rumination, and an acute and unsentimental portrait of love. It continues to captivate and challenge readers with its profound ideas and complex characters.

In Kundera's novels, especially in The Unbearable Lightness of Being... (the original title is impossible to translate), there is always an extra character, a surplus one. It's not just the narrator, it's someone else. We could call him the Essayist, we could call him the Author. His function is to raise questions (what is the value of being?, why are we covered in kitsch?) and to use the story as an illustration of philosophical hypotheses. So, along with Tereza, Sabina, Tomas and Franz - characters who evolve at the "earthly" level, we must place, somewhere, above all, the figure of the Author (who is not Kundera, of course).

For this reason, Milan Kundera's novels seem (and indeed are) artificial. They have a lot in common with the philosophical fables of Diderot and Voltaire. Of course, in the books of other prose writers there are also comments, digressions, but they belong to one of the characters or the omniscient narrator. With Kundera, it's on the side. We are actually reading an essay (about eternal recurrence, about the sexual act in paradise and the opinion of John Scotus Eriugena, about kitsch, about chance) and, from time to time, the discourse is interrupted by small narrative inserts: in her underwear, scrutinized by mirrors, Sabina tries on a black melon hat.

In addition, we are warned from the start that the characters are invented, just pawns in the indifferent hand of the chess player: "It would be a mistake on the part of the author if he tried to make the reader believe that his characters really existed. They were not born from the womb of a mother, but from a few suggestive phrases...". Through this narrative inversion, Kundera systematically violates the "laws" of storytelling (classical) and the reader's expectations. The novel becomes almost implausible. The action is only a pretext for a reasoning.

What remains if we eliminate the essayistic passages? What remains is a novel about love and desertion, a "demonstration" of human nothingness. Being is not worth much and its lack of "weight" (importance) is terrifying.

There is an episode that will never leave my mind, an example of "vanitas vanitatum". This motif has always obsessed writers: we find it in medieval satires, in old English poetry (in Thomas Nashe), in Everyman's Story by Philip Roth. Let's read this passage:

"In the middle of the night, [Tomas] woke [Tereza] from her sleep to calm her sobs.
[She] told him:
– I was buried. For a long time. You came to see me, once a week. You knocked on the stone of the grave and I came out of the tomb, with my eyes full of earth. You said to me: In this way you can't see me, and you took the earth out of my eyes. And I answered: Anyway I can't see. Instead of eyes I have two holes."

A friend of mine has a rather interesting take on the movie version of this book. In fact, he refers to it as "Sammy and Rosie get Laid in Prague". And you know what? He actually has a point.

The movie does seem to have a certain aspect that could be described in such a way. However, despite this, I still really like it.

Maybe it's the unique characters, or the captivating storyline that keeps drawing me in. Or perhaps it's the way the movie manages to bring the pages of the book to life in a vivid and engaging manner.

Whatever the reason, I find myself constantly drawn back to this movie. It has a charm and a quality that I can't quite put my finger on, but it's there nonetheless.

So, while my friend may have his own opinion, I'll continue to enjoy this movie for all that it is.

The article explores various themes and concepts related to Milan Kundera's novel "The Unbearable Lightness of Being". It delves into the relationships between the characters, such as Tomas and Tereza, and the philosophical ideas underlying the story. The importance of metaphors, like lightness and weight, is discussed, as well as their connection to Nietzsche's concept of eternal return. The article also examines the role of kitsch in society, particularly in communist and capitalist contexts, and how it relates to the individual's pursuit of freedom. Additionally, it mentions the recurring image of Tomas looking at the opposite walls and the difficulty of choosing between different opposites. The soundtrack provided adds another layer to the overall experience, with songs that seem to capture the essence of the novel. Overall, the article offers a comprehensive analysis of the novel, highlighting its complexity and relevance.

THE GREAT BANANA SPLIT:

That Summer Feeling

Her name wasn't Banana, but I used to call her that, because it rhymed with her actual name. She was a photographer, and I was working at Rocking Horse Records. Soon, we hooked up at a dance party after her musician lover left. Word spread that he had a new girl, and our relationship developed. Banana lent me a book she loved, and we read it together in bed, acting out the roles. Eventually, we realized we were better friends than lovers. When it was time to part, I asked to take the book, and she agreed if I gave her my rare single. Years later, I found the song on a compilation CD and remembered our time together.

Critique of Separation

The article also includes a review of "The Unbearable Lightness of Being", discussing its themes of sex, relationships, and philosophy. The novel uses metaphysical concepts as metaphors for life, and the review analyzes the importance of key words like lightness and weight. The review warns about the power of metaphors and how they can give birth to love. It also explores the relationship between eternal return and ephemerality, and how it affects our perception of life.

LIGHTNESS AND WEIGHT:

About the Light and Heavy Weight Title

The most important metaphor in the novel is lightness and weight, which is alluded to in the title. Kundera refers to pairs of opposites defined by Parmenides, with lightness being positive and weight negative. However, Beethoven believes that weight is positive, as reflected in his music. The article analyzes what lightness and weight mean in the context of the novel, such as the burden of weight and the freedom of lightness.

The Burden of Weight

Weight can be a burden, crushing us and pinning us to the ground. It can also give our lives meaning, certainty, and comfort. However, it can compromise our individuality and freedom. The article explores how Kundera sees both the positives and negatives of weight.

The Splendid Lightness

Lightness, on the other hand, allows us to imagine, rise, and fly. It can be liberating, but it can also lead to vertigo and a fear of falling. The article examines how Kundera portrays lightness as both a positive and negative force.

Erotic Friendship

Tomas, the main character, doesn't believe in love because it is a bond that restricts freedom. Instead, he seeks erotic friendship, which excludes love and sentimentality. The article analyzes Tomas's view of love and how it relates to the themes of lightness and weight.

The Intoxication of the Weak

Freedom itself can be a burden, as Sartre suggests. The higher we rise, the more we can suffer from vertigo and a longing to return to safe ground. The article explores how this idea of the intoxication of the weak relates to the novel's themes.




ETERNAL RETURN VERSUS EPHEMERALITY:

Eternal Return

Kundera derives the metaphor of lightness and weight from Nietzsche's idea of eternal return. The article explains what eternal return means and how it affects our perception of life.

The Shadow of Ephemerality

A life that does not recur is like a shadow, without weight or meaning. The article explores how Kundera questions the value of ephemeral experiences and how they relate to the idea of eternal return.

Worth Its Weight (in German)

Recurrence implies weight and value, while the ephemeral has no transcendental value. The article analyzes how this idea affects our view of love and life.

Unbearable Responsibility

Eternal return also implies a responsibility, as our actions will recur infinitely. The article explores how this idea affects our sense of accountability and the seriousness with which we should take our lives.




COMMUNISM, CAPITALISM AND KITSCH:

Aesthetic Kitsch

Kundera ends the novel with a discussion of aesthetic kitsch, which he defines as the absolute denial of shit. Kitsch is the weighty, sentimental, and collective aspect of society that excludes individualism and doubt. The article analyzes how kitsch relates to the novel's themes and how it is enforced in both communist and capitalist societies.

The Brotherhood of Kitsch

Communism is particularly vulnerable to kitsch because it seeks to establish a brotherhood of man on earth. The article explores how the Grand March, a metaphorical step towards brotherhood, is related to kitsch.

The Monstrous Threat to Kitsch

Tomas and Sabina, his mistress, are seen as monsters in the kingdom of kitsch because they embrace the lightness of being and question the earnest self-belief of society. The article analyzes how their individuality and freedom pose a threat to kitsch.


FALLING BETWEEN TWO WALLS:

Looking at the Opposite Walls

The recurring image of Tomas looking at the opposite walls represents his indecision and the difficulty of choosing between different opposites. The article explores how this image relates to the novel's themes.

Falling, in Love

Tomas loves Tereza enough to marry her, but he still persists with his relationship with Sabina and other women. The article analyzes how his love for Tereza and his pursuit of freedom and erotic friendship conflict.


SOUNDTRACK:

The Raincoats - "No One's Little Girl"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CEvl-...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yg7zS...

The Au Pairs - "It's Obvious"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xjbBr...

The Au Pairs - "Diet"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3iaCa...

Rainy Day - "I'll Keep It with Mine"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G5Zeh...

Jonathan Richman & The Modern Lovers - "That Summer Feeling"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yzc3l...

"When the cool of the pond makes you drop down on it
When the smell of the lawn makes you flop down on it
When the teenage car gets the cop down on it
That time is here for one more year...
That summer feeling's gonna haunt you the rest of your life...
If you’ve forgotten what I’m naming
You’re gonna long to reclaim it one day
You see that summer feeling's gonna haunt you the rest of your life
But if you wait until you're older
A sad resentment will smoulder one day
And then this summer feeling will come haunt you
Then that summer feeling will come taunt you
That summer feeling will hurt you later in your life."

The Blue Aeroplanes - "Weightless"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zkPSL...

Robert Wyatt - "Shipbuilding"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B6T9q...

The Passions - "I'm in Love with a German Film Star"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iLn_o...

Guy Debord - "Critique of Separation" (1961)

https://vimeo.com/58914133

I was initially hesitant to embark on this reading journey. For a while, I thought it would be one of those books that I might or might not get around to. It didn't seem like something I'd enjoy. It appeared too soft, too postmodern, too feel-good, too based in hedonism, or too surface-oriented. What made me give it a try was the simple fact that I'd be traveling to Prague in a few weeks, and since the book was set there, I thought it might put me in the mood for the trip. I figured it was "now or never" regarding reading it. And yet, even with that in mind, I still hesitated a bit. That is, until the mere mention of it received an almost overly enthusiastic and positive response from two close friends whose opinions I hold in high regard. Their response was so passionate that it pushed me over the edge, making me think that the novel's chances of being lame had decreased and that it would be worth the effort.

And I'm extremely glad I decided to give this book a shot. The novel traces the lives of two couples during the Soviet occupation of Prague in the late 1960s. It delves deep into their struggles against communism, their pasts, their lovers, and themselves. Kundera observes the internal goings-on among the characters, intellectualizes it, and shares it with the reader. He's quite philosophical, and you feel as if the narrator is having a conversation with you, offering highly insightful observations about the characters and life in general. This is one of the reasons why reading is often more valuable than watching TV or a movie. When reading a good book, you get direct psychological explanations and can enter the minds of the characters.

Taken as a whole, I found this novel to be profound in unusual ways. It's not a straightforward novel but rather one that represents and allows one to feel disconnections and various glimpses of perceptions. It wasn't a smooth read either; at times, it even felt choppy. However, the short chapters fit its feel and also give you time to ponder the penetrating thoughts that Kundera presents. Kundera strikes me as a sort of craftsman. He deftly and effectively switches timelines, even when I thought he was crazy to do so. When I thought he gave up the climax of the novel towards its middle, he proved me completely wrong. He showed me that he knew exactly what he was doing because he's a master of the craft. This novel isn't filled with sweeping, pounding paragraphs of poignant, soul-hitting, philosophical depth but rather offers constant glimpses and nuggets of insightful observations on almost every page. When added together, they reveal an impressive, heartfelt, and real work.

I love the way this novel portrays love. It recognizes and represents its beauty while simultaneously showing how psychological and manipulatable it can be. The loves in this novel are accurate and not cheapened by gimmicky slogans or conventional lines. Kundera brilliantly portrays how simple things like our past, our country, images, family, and even metaphors can affect our psyche and major life decisions. The novel also explores the fragility and delicacy of love. Sometimes, even one sentence can convey a great deal. And it's worth reiterating that the philosophical ideas in this novel are very thought-provoking. The importance and lack of importance of our decisions, the unavoidable importance and lack of importance of life – that's how this novel feels.

If I'm going to give a book five stars, it needs to affect me in some profound ways – it needs to change me, at least a little. This novel has affected my view of life and how I see the world. Specifically, it's helped me better understand beauty. Beauty is such an abstract concept that it's hard to elaborate on. You know it when you see it or, rather, when you feel it. Beauty has a touch of melancholy; it's appreciative, special but fleeting, and never fully absorbed in its entirety. Maybe that's a major aspect of beauty – knowing it's beyond your grasp. Beyond you.

Life is ultimately a crapshoot. You don't know what's going to happen. You might as well hold on to something. And that something might as well be love – whether it's platonic, romantic, or, if you're lucky, both. And if that's what you're going to hold on to (and you are), then you might as well understand its simplicity and complexity, and its beauty. You might as well understand and appreciate as much of it as you can. It only makes sense that you do. This novel can help you do that.

A captivating and touching story that takes away your will to read any other work in parallel or even skip it.

The main characters in the story are Teresa - Franz and on the contrary Sabina - Tomas:

Teresa: The sincere, tormented, and burdened lover with the affairs of her husband and the budding revolution that insists on documenting her people's revolution with her talent, and she chose to stop practicing that talent as long as she could not freely publish her works and not be forced to depict nature and ugly scenes instead of documenting the struggle and suffering of her people under the yoke of Soviet occupation.

On the other hand stands

Sabina: Completely the opposite, she is a shameless traitor to treason - even if Kundera does not fully blame her for that, but he is most responsible for shaping Sabina's personality on the shoulders of her father - hating all kinds of restrictions and commitments and also hating religion, loving lightness and freedom, and finding no beauty in the church except in the music of the organs.

Franz: The one who lives in truth, who does not lie, hide, or conceal.. The university professor, the muscular giant, and on the contrary, he cannot give orders to Sabina, and the author justifies this with weakness and explains the weakness in Franz with kindness.

Love for Franz was a desire to surrender to the other's kindness and tenderness. For the one who gives himself to the other in the way the soldier gives himself, he must first throw away all his weapons, and when he sees himself alone, he cannot refrain from asking when the decisive blow will fall. I can say that love for Franz is a long wait for the decisive blow.

On the other hand stands

Tomas: The doctor, shameless in sex, and free from all restrictions, and disintegrating from any bond, and he is the opposite of Franz, but Tomas does not represent for me the typical personality of this type of people. Strangely, Tomas changes from this libertine to a man of principle and value when he writes an article for one of the newspapers about the governance system and then firmly adheres to his position of opposing the governance system in his country or what was called "Prague Spring", and demands that the officials in Prague who brought the country to occupation and Soviet invasion be punished and held accountable for their sins as Oedipus did in the famous tragedy. So, did this libertine suddenly acquire values and principles that he refuses to give up so that his retreat is not an excuse for other citizens to give up their ideas? Kundera explains the change in Tomas's personality with an example of Beethoven's transformation of his conversation with one of the Viennese about money into a refrain "It must be so" and shows the ease and simplicity of the process of transformation from lightness to heaviness.

In all our beliefs, it is not reasonable for the love of our lives to be something light without weight. We all imagine that our love is our strength and that our lives without it will no longer be our lives. Also, we convince ourselves that Beethoven, with his frowning face and tousled hair, plays for the sake of our great love with the refrain: "It must be so".

Tomas remembered Teresa's comment about his friend, expecting that the love story of his life would not ultimately depend on "It must be so" but rather on "This could have happened completely differently....".

Kundera deals in this story with the question of eternal return, that is, that man lives only one life, and therefore he cannot benefit or enjoy the experience that he has gained in one life. At the same time, the four main models in the story are presented and how they were all affected in the opposite way by the way of upbringing and the lifestyle of the people in shaping their personalities. For example, in Sabina's personality, who was raised between the arms of a desperate, tormented, and humiliated mother, she rebelled against freedom and revolt against her mother's life and decided to disintegrate from any bond or weight and refused to remain imprisoned in that cage, so she chose treason and not to attach to one person.

And the same treatment appeared in Teresa's personality, who was born in the arms of a mother and in the shadow of her mother's husband and a house that does not respect moral values and does not know respect. She appeared rejecting all kinds of treason and all forms of lightening and appeared burdened by restrictions and sacrifices for a man she knows is constantly betraying. A split occurred between the spiritual whip and the physical support: the spirit that rejects all treason and the body that was born in a naked environment.

Kundera insists on the idea that the occupier, whether external like a hostile country or internal like ruling systems that try to generalize cowardice and exaggerate it in the souls of the governed. As Kundera says in Tomas's words, "They have a secret love for cowards, for their cowardice."

It is interesting in the end of my review of this wonderful work to know that the secret police in Czechoslovakia since the 1960s broadcast their recordings of the diaries and conversations of activists from politicians through the radio. Tomas says

"There is a secret police all over the world, but only in our country do they broadcast their recordings through the radio! A strange thing!"