Friday, November 17, 2017

Une rencontre


Une rencontre, Milan Kundera

I always get tricked on third airport books.

I got tricked on Marguerite Yourcenar's third airport book.

I got tricked on Jean-Paul Sartre's third airport book.

And now I got tricked on Milan Kundera's third airport book.

An airport book is a book I buy at the airport, to read on the plane. I read two awesome books by Marguerite Yourcenar before I bought Souvenirs Pieux at the airport, drooling, and then it turned out it was her autobiography.

I never realized I hated autobiography.

Then I read two awesome books by Sartre (really one), before I bought Les mots at the airport,
drooling, before I realized it was his autobiography.

This time, I realized I hated autobiography.

Finally, I read two awesome books by Milan Kundera before I bought Une rencontre at the airport.
It's not an autobiography, but it's kind of an autobiography.

There's something funny about these autobiographies from great writers. They turn out to be—well it should be obvious—narcissistic, like they're welling in their words after a bit. But they start awesome.

Une rencontre's saving grace is that it has lots of munchy book recommendations in it. Only reason I forced myself through it.

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