DNF: 50%

An unpopular opinion is about to follow.

The unbearable lightness of being was truly an unbearable read. The writing style was rather lackluster, and the characters seemed completely indifferent. I found it impossible to relate to them; they felt so distant and, at times, even annoying. Generally speaking, it was a huge disappointment. The supposed philosophical value of the book simply didn't resonate with me. There was practically no plot to speak of, and the story was extremely boring. I had been so positive that this book would be to my liking, but alas, it wasn't. It failed miserably to touch my heart, to make me question life, or anything for that matter. It left me feeling completely apathetic and unmoved. I'm not going to claim that it was pseudophilosophical or pretentious, but rather it was just average, ordinary, and highly overrated. To be honest, I really can't understand why it's praised so extravagantly.

Out of all the years of my reading experience, this is the very first time that I actually regretted buying a book. What else can I say? Maybe recommendations just don't work for me.

The people in this book engage in a significant amount of sexual activity. In fact, approximately 75% of the book is dedicated to either engaging in or thinking about such intimate acts. The sex parts are described using lofty academic language such as "heat" and "passion", and the word "moist" is used liberally. However, all the really raunchy details about body fluids are left out. Interestingly, despite all the sexual encounters, these people seem to have no babies, perhaps indicating that not too much fluid was actually exchanged.

The book is driven forward by a series of misunderstandings. Coincidences and the actions of others are easily misinterpreted. For example, one might wonder if a song is playing because the universe is conspiring to send a message. Or, if someone stands naked in front of a mirror wearing a bowler cap, will others understand? Probably not, unless they have read this book. Shared understanding only develops over time.

The idea of the soul is a major theme in the book. The author presents the view that in the past, man was amazed by the regular beats in his chest and did not suspect what they were. The body was seen as a cage, and the soul was the something inside that looked, listened, feared, thought, and marveled. However, today, with our scientific knowledge, we know that the beating in our chest is the heart, and the face is an instrument panel registering the body's mechanisms. The old duality of body and soul has become shrouded in scientific terminology, and some might laugh at it as an obsolete prejudice.

The author also raises the question of whether our body is a reflection of our soul. Do we have a pretty face because we have a pretty soul? Another topic explored is the idea of our life as music. The motifs introduced early in life are repeated as we grow older, and by the time we are old, the music is largely set, with few new themes and ideas added.

I don't necessarily agree with all of these ideas, but they do give one something to chew on and ponder. The book is filled with interesting and unanswerable questions. For example, one might ask oneself, "what does Mr. Kundera think about questions?" The author provides an answer, stating that "indeed, the only truly serious questions are ones that even a child can formulate. Only the most naive questions are truly serious. They are questions with no answers. A question with no answer is a barrier that cannot be breached. In other words, it is questions with no answers that set the limit for human possibilities, describe the boundaries of human existence."

In my second year at university, I enrolled in a philosophy course to fulfill my required humanities credit. This was my initial encounter with the subject, and on the very first day of class, I came to the realization that my brain simply isn't predisposed for that level of abstract thinking and processing.

So, you might wonder, why did I decide to read a book that is philosophical in nature? Well, the answer lies in the fact that I was completely captivated by how poetically beautiful the title is. There is just something about it that strikes a deep chord within me.

I don't wish to disclose the significance of the title, as it plays a crucial role in the story. However, this narrative delves into various aspects of life, including its possible insignificance, the purpose of coincidences and fate, love, betrayal, loss, and infidelity.

As for the philosophy within this book, it isn't overly dense and is relatively easy to understand. I found that the writing style effectively presented its deeper thoughts in a highly accessible and relatable manner, which was a huge relief considering my less-than-pleasant experience in my university course. The subtextual messages and thought-provoking ideas were truly the highlight of the book for me.

Nevertheless, there were aspects of the book that I didn't quite enjoy. The surface-level elements, such as the plot and characters, didn't really resonate with me. I have to admit that I didn't take a liking to any of the four main characters, and their stories seemed rather unremarkable. It did take me some time to warm up to the whole thing, but I can envision myself potentially having a greater appreciation for the story upon a reread.

Overall, reading this book was a rather contemplative experience. While it didn't revolutionize my perspective on life, it did prompt me to pause and reflect on certain aspects of it. It's not hard to see why this novel is considered a classic.

↠ 3.5 stars

After reading three books by Milan Kundera, the Kundera style has almost come to my hand.

I liked the book "The Unbearable Lightness of Being". If I could take the chapters of Sabina and Franz as factors, the attractiveness of the book for me was very high.

It's as if you are sitting in front of a person and chatting with him, getting immersed in his thoughts and ideological thinking, and being able to have your own personal insights. The characters are real and tangible. As if through Kundera's excellent character portrayal, you can see the world from the perspective of each character, and you can't completely condemn any of them or give anyone 100% right. It's a delicious relativism.

However, towards the end of the book, the rhythm of the story became slow, and sometimes it made me feel tired. But it can be easily attributed to the excellent conclusion of the book.

The memorable sentences in the book:

What else but love comes in this way and recognizes itself?

...

This hesitation empties the most beautiful moment of his life in every sense.

...

Doubt and hesitation are completely natural things: a person never knows what he should want because life is only once and cannot be compared with other lives or corrected in the future.

...

Is it better to be hesitant or to remain alone?

...

There is no means to determine the right decision because no comparison is possible. In life, we encounter everything for the first time. Like an actor who enters the stage without rehearsal.

...

He was also surprised by this trend. He acted contrary to his principles.

...

He could only truly be himself in a state of solitude.

...

When he was in pursuit of love, he felt a strong tendency to remain alone.

...

Even in his dreams, he was vigilant.

...

Loving someone out of sympathy is not true love.

...

These years in memory were more beautiful than the actual moments of their shared life.

...

Nothing is harder than the feeling of sympathy. Even enduring one's own pain is not as hard as the pain we endure together with someone else, for someone else, or in place of someone else, and our imagination gives it hundreds of reflections.

...

He tries to observe himself through his own pain.

...

Becoming a mother means sacrificing everything.

...

The book had a special meaning for him as an object.

...

Isn't an event more important and more meaningful the more it happens?

...

Only the event can be interpreted as a message. What is imposed according to necessity, what is expected and repeated daily is something silent and quiet. Only the event is talkative, and everyone tries to interpret and explain it.

...

In order to avoid crying, he spoke loudly and laughed.

...

He had read more books than them and understood life better than them.

...

What is not the result of a "choice" cannot be regarded as success or failure.

...

Not all women deserved to be called women.

...

In his opinion, rebellion against the fact that a woman has given birth is as absurd as pride in being a woman.

...

The first betrayal is unforgivable and through a chain reaction, it triggers other betrayals, each of which takes us further away from the previous betrayal.

...

Music is liberating:

Music leads him out of solitude and isolation, out of the dust of libraries.

...

Loving is a guise of power.

...

If he was in love with a man who gave him orders and wanted to be in control of him, how long could he tolerate it? Not even five minutes!

...

We usually take refuge in the future to forget our own pain and suffering.

...

Love is like an empire: if the idea on which it is based disappears, love itself will also disappear.

...

Tomas said to himself that "whether they knew or didn't know was not the essential problem, but rather it should be asked: if we are ignorant, are we innocent? Is a man who leans on the cane of power only absolved of all responsibility because of ignorance?"

...

Justifying someone who doesn't know what he is doing is a sign of cowardice.

...

True human kindness only becomes evident in relation to beings that do not show any power.

...

Having faith is the only way to save a human being.

...

What is the meaning of happiness? We are together! Grief was form and happiness was content, and happiness filled the space of grief.

After hearing last month that the great Slavic translator Michael Henry Heim had passed away, I felt it was high time to delve into some Kundera. I likely relished the concept of "The Unbearable Lightness Of Being" (ULoB) even more than the actual book, although I still regarded the book as extraordinary. I do have my own reservations regarding both Nietzsche's idea of eternal recurrence and Kundera's alternative and existential "lightness of being". However, I couldn't help but be drawn to the lugubrious manner in which Kundera approached his subject and the way he probed the complex triangulations of life, love, history, sex, death, and politics in this novel.

There are certain books that seem fated to serve as markers for early periods in one's life. Take "The Catcher in the Rye" for example. There are times when it works splendidly, and then there are later years when it simply doesn't strike the same chord. The same holds true for "Infinite Jest" and "Siddartha". I'm not suggesting that these are juvenile books or ones that are simplistic. Rather, they seem destined to have a profound impact and explore a certain malleability of the mind between the ages of 16 and 30. ULoB is one such book. It probably should be read at a point after one loses their virginity but before they begin to contribute regularly to their retirement plan.

One blatant weakness in this novel, at least for me, was Kundera's propensity to transform his major characters into philosophical props. It was precisely when Kundera expounded directly on philosophical concepts such as kitsch or kindness that the novel had the strongest resonance for me.

“In the sunset of dissolution, everything is illuminated by the aura of nostalgia, even the guillotine.”
― Milan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness Of Being

Oh my God!

What is this?

This man is strange.

He has the ability to give such a deep sense of stupidity and foolishness.

I have never liked it.

It is the worst thing I have read this year after his first novel, which is ignorance.

I see that his idea is repeated here as well.

But, is there a pattern in all of this novel and its predecessor?

Almost the same main themes.

First: The talk about war.

Here I mean his Czech war against communist Russia.

His intense hatred towards Russia and the Soviet Union is evident.

Second: The talk about books.

This was evident in the character of Teresa and in the name of the dog Karenin.

Third: Nostalgia for the past or the curse of nostalgia.

The talk about philosophy and culture: This was really the worst part.

The man was ignorant of the ideas of these philosophers, and his talk about them was only to add a false depth.

For example, his talk about the four elements that make up the universe according to the ancient Greek philosophers, he mentioned other elements that I could not find a real origin for.

And also his talk about Nietzsche's philosophy.

His presentation of it was not completely sound.

Finally, and not the least, the talk about sex.

This is what the author talked about the most in this novel, almost.

There is not a single page without a truncated sexual scene.

And of course, with his detailed and precise description of the bodies of the man and the woman.

This is what disgusted me more than once.

Also his talk about marital infidelity and illegal love affairs and his vulgar description of those prohibited details.

In conclusion: I consider it one of the worst things I have read this year.

I don't know the real reason for the strangely high ratings that are unjustified.

I think the only reason that made me read it is the high ratings of my friends.

But in the end, I never found anything that pleased me.

A truncated and mediocre novel.

The only thing that pleaded for it with me was the existence of Karenin.

This is what saved me during the badness of the novel.

And this is what made me award it a single star out of respect.

I feel that all these ideas have become wasted.

And I am really tired of the excessive talk about them.

Finally: Greetings.. Ali Mullah :D

Every reader knows: there are books that call to you. There are books that when you pass in front of them, they make you stop and say: “hey, my moment has come, read me.”

This is what Milan Kundera's "The Unbearable Lightness of Being" did to me, two years after I bought it.

I started to hear its voice a few months ago and I continued to ignore it because I was scared of it. Then I convinced myself, I said to myself "now or never" and "now" was the perfect moment.

"The Unbearable Lightness of Being" is poetry, it is philosophy, it is reflection from the title alone. Just that is enough to drive the reader crazy about its meaning and to make him aware of the complexity of this book.

Because although I loved Kundera's book, I am convinced that it is not a book for everyone because it is rich, rich in life and death, rich in love and betrayals, rich in morality and philosophy, rich in history and war, rich in power and politics.

Whoever lives abroad walks on a tightrope high in the void without the safety net offered by one's own land where there are family, colleagues, friends, where one can easily make oneself understood in the language one has known since childhood.

But let's start from the basics, let's start with our protagonists. Very briefly I could tell you that there is Tomáš who loves Tereza, Tereza who loves Tomáš, Franz who loves Sabina, Sabina who for some time loves Franz, Tomáš who thinks of Sabina, Sabina who thinks of Tomáš, Karenin who loves Tomáš and Tereza, Kundera who loves his characters.

[…] love begins in the moment when the woman is inscribed with her first word in our poetic memory.

Tomáš is a surgeon who loves his work, but also loves women and sex, never as much as he loves Tereza according to him.

Tereza has difficulty understanding Tomáš and his behaviors, the fact that he says he loves her while with the others it is only a matter of sex without feelings. Tereza is reserved, contrary to her mother, who showed herself to be shameless, and she carries this with her for all her life. A life that she lives as a burden because she feels that way herself.

Franz is married but betrays his wife with Sabina. He is an idealist who tries to change events, even intervening personally.

Sabina is a free, independent, strong woman, an artist, the artificer of her own destiny. Sabina is the lover who, just when she could become something more, feels oppressed by the heaviness and escapes.

Karenin is Tomáš and Tereza's dog, who takes away the heaviness from their lives, especially from Tereza's, because he is not weighed down by the typical reasoning of men. For Karenin it is enough to wake up every morning and start with his habits, this is life.

And then there is Kundera, who interprets himself, who tells us how he sees and how his characters are, making us enter and exit the story as he pleases. Making us come back down to earth just when we forget that Tomáš, Tereza, Franz and Sabina are only invented characters.

If you think that Milan Kundera's "The Unbearable Lightness of Being" tells some little love story, you are way off, and by quite a bit. Beyond the fact that every relationship in this book is a small big universe in itself, which then unites with other small big universes, one must consider the importance of the historical setting and therefore the geographical and political one. Consider in fact that we are for the most part of the time in Prague, with the invasion of the Soviet Union at the gates.

In this book there is History. There is the regime, there is censorship, there are criticisms of communism, there are dictatorial impositions, there are the dead.

And it was said that the fundamental question was not: Did they know or not know?, but rather: Are we innocent only because we don't know? Is an imbecile sitting on the throne relieved of all responsibility only because he is an imbecile?

Of course, there is the human relationship with its relationships, love and betrayals, but then there is also a whole other world.

We talk about destiny, choices, consequences, the search for happiness despite difficult conditions, life, with its lightness, which does not correspond to superficiality, and with its heaviness, which does not correspond to depth.

[…] heaviness, necessity and value are three concepts closely linked to each other: only what is necessary is heavy, only what weighs has value.

I think I liked "The Unbearable Lightness of Being" so much because it is a complete book, a 360-degree book, containing so many reflections, some explained step by step by the author, others left hanging, as if it were the reader who had to reflect on them and then draw his own conclusions. And as if this were not enough, it is a book that has moved me, a lot.

Undoubtedly one of the best books of this 2020.

What happens only once is as if it had never happened. If a man can live only one life, it is as if he did not live at all.

Three hikers were out on a walk when suddenly, it began to rain. Within just a few minutes, they found themselves caught in a powerful storm. Hastily, they sought shelter under a rock overhang. As they pressed themselves back against the sharp side of the rock, they unknowingly perceived the storm in three very distinct ways.

Hiker #1 regarded the unpredictability of the storm as wild, wonderful, and even erotic. She was well aware that one could not control nature, nor was she foolish enough to believe that she could understand what was transpiring, what it signified, or when it would come to an end. She relished the sensation of the rain on her face and the wind tousling her hair.

Hiker #2, on the other hand, was petrified by the storm. Crouched down with her eyes closed and hands covering her ears, she was convinced that they were going to meet their demise. Each bolt of lightning that struck down before them made her wince, and her heart raced in discomfort and confusion. She earnestly wished that it would all just disappear.

Hiker #3 was a busy individual who had initially needed to be persuaded to join the hike. He realized that this storm would delay them by at least a good half hour. In his disgust, he stubbornly refused to engage with or acknowledge the fear or excitement of his fellow hikers. He felt angry that his precious time was being wasted and was also anxious about the loss of cell service.

After the storm had passed, the three hikers had three different responses. Hiker #1 went home to pen a poem and prepare a sumptuous meal. Hiker #2 vowed to give up caffeine and swore that she would never hike again. Hiker #3, as soon as his cell service was restored, posted a nasty tweet (disparaging Mother Nature) from his car.

Coincidentally, all three hikers had been reading The Unbearable Lightness of Being by Milan Kundera at the time of the storm, yet the topic never emerged during their walk. They would finish the book at three different times and have three completely different reactions to the writing. Ironically, their responses would be similar to how they had reacted to the storm.

**The Ingenuous Reader's Adventure in a Bilingual Text**

Discover how the naive reader is tricked and instead of reading a novel, embarks on the dense and delightful plots of a bilingual text.

For a moment, pretend you are still in the school desks.
For a moment, you are back in high school.
The Latin and Greek teacher enters.
“Today we will do Caesar's De Bello Gallico.” Great!!
Can you picture yourselves? You are the ones with the bored faces in the third row.
Your teacher starts to read. She is, of course, concentrated. Because she knows.
You may perhaps understand the sense, follow the musicality, but it is still another language. It's Latin, and you are not professors, you are overloaded and tired students, on any given day of the school year, listening to things you won't remember in ten years.
But fortunately, your teacher is one of those people who believe in what they do.
She is not stupid; she has understood very well that the story of the Gallic War doesn't attract you that much, and that most of the subtleties of Latin style leave you indifferent.
So she takes you by the hand, rereads each sentence and explains it to you. If it's not clear, she goes back. She also explains the historical context, what is happening to Caesar while he is writing, she enlightens you on the misinterpreted words and provides you with the appropriate mechanisms for a correct interpretation.
And then you too, now, have a different light in your eyes. That of someone who suddenly understands thanks to someone who has had the patience to explain to them for the umpteenth time what was important and what was superfluous to understand.

Kundera is exactly that teacher.
It's not so much the plot that strikes. It's not so much the story of Franz and Sabina, or of Tomáš and Tereza that fascinates us. It's the patience with which Kundera dissects, reveals, communicates, confesses, adapts, clarifies, systematizes, illustrates, affirms, exposes and translates what we alone wouldn't be able to understand of these stories.

Years after the first time I read it, I realize that the starting points for reflection that Kundera gives to the reader are infinite, just as I also realize that it's not a coincidence that of the Czechs it is said that “Co Čech, to muzikant” (“In every Czech, a musician”).
This book too is a dance, starting from the title, which doesn't speak of a dozen as banal and empty, but through the most beautiful of oxymorons, “the unbearable lightness of being”, it sets the rhythm to the polyphonic choir of the protagonists (dog included).

And if at the end you still don't clearly understand how the word Love is declined, don't worry.
Now Kundera goes back and explains it to you again.

This is the captivating story of two men, two women, and a dog, set during and after the 1968 Prague Spring in what was then Czechoslovakia. It not only delves into the personal lives of these individuals but also challenges Friedrich Nietzsche's eternal recurrence concepts. In this story, it is countered that each of us has only one unique life to live, emphasizing the lightness of being.

There is a significant amount of philosophical exploration, especially in the second half of the book. The "unbearable lightness" also refers to Kundera's portrayal of love as transient, random, and based on accumulated coincidences, despite our perception of it as more profound.

The book had a profound impact on me. I was completely hypnotized by Kundera's storytelling, which focused mainly on his characters and allowed me to see the world only through their eyes, even when confined to the four walls of a room. It tells the story of the crushing of the Czech privileged in a less emotional way, yet it is incredibly powerful.

I knew little about the details of the Prague Spring before reading this, but now I am inspired to learn more about it and the Hungarian uprising of this era. The book almost brought me to tears at the end. Its simple story and deep message shook me. There is also one of the greatest non-human dramatical scenes in this book that completely absorbed me.

I read this book slowly, savoring each scene and immersing myself in every page. It is a simple story about people, about political oppression, and about love. I knew from the first few pages that this was a special book, as Kundera's quality is evident from start to finish. It earns a rating of 10 out of 12, a Five Star Read.

2020 read.

You know those books that are so captivating that once you finish them, you immediately start again? That's precisely what happened between me and Unbearable Lightness. After turning the page on the incredibly heart-wrenching last chapter, I felt an irresistible urge to begin anew, eager to savor those nuggets of wisdom that Kundera so skillfully dispenses.

After reading the initial few chapters, I jotted down a note to myself. I wrote, \\"If Love in the Time of Cholera represents Latin passion and the willingness to throw oneself off the cliffs of insanity, then The Unbearable Lightness of Being is its Teutonic counterpart. This book is filled with an abundance of neuroses, doubt, and angst that would keep Freudian analysts occupied for countless billable hours, leaving the reader to question whether love is truly worth all the turmoil.\\" I thought this would make a great opening for a review. However, as I continued reading, I realized that my initial impression, that this was simply a book about love and its consequences, was a remarkably shortsighted interpretation of this grand epic.

Yes, this book does touch on love, but only to the extent that life inevitably intersects with love at some point. Kundera's brilliance lies in his attempt to map out the intertwined paths that groups of people traverse and how chance encounters,看似微不足道 to one party, can have profound and life-altering implications for the other. He explores how one person can be condemned to flit through life, living only on the surface, experiencing the titular Unbearable Lightness, while another drags their guilt and lust with them like a burdensome albatross around their neck. He also delves into how national identity does shape who we are, regardless of how far we may run from the country itself.

Any review I could pen for this book would fail to do it justice. It is a beautiful and heart-breaking work (I could even title this review \\"Animals in Literature and Why They Kill Me Every Fucking Time\\"). It gives you hope for your own life and then snatches it away at the last possible moment. This book makes you believe that writing is indeed an art form, and the true masters of the craft are regrettably few and far between. I know that I will reread this book again and again as the years pass and my experiences reshape me, if only to observe how these different versions of myself react to Kundera's genius.

“Which is better, shouting and crying out our end, or remaining silent and attaining more possession slowly?
Is there a single answer to these questions?
Human life occurs only once, and we will never be able to determine which decision is good and which is bad, because in all cases, we can only make a decision once. For it has not given us a second, third, or fourth life so that we can compare different decisions.”

The beginning of this novel has been on my waiting list for a long time as one of Kundera's most famous novels. I always felt it was difficult and was afraid of it. Kundera is not easy to read