I'd almost forgotten what a joy it can be to spend the entire day with my nose in a book.
I spent a good half of the day engrossed in Kazuo Ishiguro's
The Remains of the Day, yet another excellent work that has been awarded the Booker Prize. In fact, half of the books in my reading list for this Literature module are Booker Prize recipients. The rest are no less outstanding, but it is Ishiguro's creation that I have enjoyed the most. Having read it only once, I won't attempt to do it the grave injustice of an ignorant review. All I can say is, it's not stuffy or tedious at all to read. It's sad and funny all at the same time; a love story gone wrong on the surface with an underlying study dedicated to the philosophy of ethics. I'll probably be reading it a few more times because I have to churn out an essay on it by Monday. The good thing is, it's not going to be a chore.
Anyway, I think the New York Times Book Review does an excellent job of describing this novel:
The Remains of the Day is a dream of a book: a beguiling comedy of manners that evolves almost magically into a profound and heart-rending study of personality, class and culture.And the synopsis:
In 1956, Stevens, a long-serving butler at Darlington Hall, decides to take a motoring trip through the West Country. The six-day excursion becomes a journey into the past of Stevens and England, a past that takes in fascism, two world wars, and an unrealised love between the butler and his housekeeper. Ishiguro's dazzling novel is a sad and humourous love story, a meditation on the condition of modern man, and an elegy for England at a time of acute change. It makes me rather contrite, though, to have to admit to recognising the merit of a module only towards the end of the semester, and that it is all accidental owing to the necessity of preparing for my exams. Whatever happened to the bookish little girl from my childhood?
From the time I could read, I devoured as many books as I could get my hands on. Asterix & Obelix, Archie, and Tin Tin were interesting enough, but couldn't sustain my interest for long. I finished the entire Enid Blyton collection by Primary Three, having dutifully patronised the Popular Book Store branch near my father's workplace every day without fail - it was the one single indulgence I allowed myself; as a child I asked for nothing except money to spend on books. By Primary Four I'd finished Sweet Valley Kids, Sweet Valley Twins, Sweet Valley High, Sweet Valley University, Fear Street, and all of that teenage nonsense. I moved on to adult novels, and when there seemed to be nothing more to read in the way of fiction, I occupied myself with educational books like 1001 Facts, Do You Know?, word searches and crossword puzzles, books dedicated to astronomy, gemstones, and science and trivia in particular. Actually, when I was really bored, I'd do assessment books for fun and mark them myself.
What a strange little child I was. But I think the investment paid off; my parents never had to pay for my education apart from what they spent on my books. I've been on scholarships since secondary school, all the way to JC and now uni. Which is why I'm sad that I've allowed myself to lapse in this respect. I've never really lost my love for reading; but I've let myself be caught up with petty pursuits and trivial fancies, and lost sight of something that gave me so much pleasure and left me enriched in a way that material possessions can only hope to do.
I'm glad my special someone cares enough about me to want me to be everything I can be. He knows I've slackened off and that my results have slipped; and he's justified in his disappointment and (hint of) anger. Now I just want to be that serious little girl that I was. There's a right time for everything, and it's time I started paying a little more attention to my studies. I'm an atheist (sometimes agnostic), so it is to my inner self that I pray: please let me stay focused and disciplined in this task, so that I may do justice to the faith that others have placed in me.
And yes, this entry is getting a little heavy so I'll end off with something light-hearted. This is why my boy is such a constant source of strength and inspiration; he never fails to make me smile with his tone of mock supervision.
ying @ 1:24 AM
