No, I am not feeling empty because this book is bad, but the other way around, this is a very good book that will give you a story with interesting background and characters and you will understand that Eka Kurniawan did really good research to build the setting.
This is a surrealism-historical novel that tells the reader a story about Indonesia, or specifically Halimunda in before and after independence, through some complicated yet interesting stories of a family whose problem with their beauty.
There are some parts where Eka put 18+ stories. Hence this novel basically not safe for children but safe for me hahaha.
Okay, back to the topic why I am feeling empty right now. It is because after I finished reading this book, that means I have to get back to reality where everything seems chaotic. Yeah, that’s it.
Someone said that reading book is an escape from reality.
At first, I didn’t agree with that. My books are mostly Indonesian classic novel that is written based on history. When I read Max Havelaar by Multatuli, I read it because I wanted to know how bad it was when Indonesia being colonialized by the Dutch.
I knew the novel is not a historical book which describes accurately what happened in the past. But still, the author wrote it based on particular and actual events and try to help us understand what’s going on and build our empathy through not-so-fiction story.
And I was thinking, how come reading book becomes an escape from reality when everything I read was a reality?
But I realized that I was (or might be) wrong.
Back then when I was writing my undergrad thesis, I found myself overwhelmed by reality. There were many things to think of, many things to be done, and many deadlines. Not to mention the pressure that came from outside e.g. expectation from my family to graduate as soon as possible.
During a hard time, out of the blue, I reached one of my books and start reading. Page by page, I lost myself to the world that has been built by the author. Every word was telling a story that I’ve never known before.
The moment when I was taking a minute to rest my eyes, I finally understood that I just read to escape reality. I was leaving my burden behind to fell into the new world. I run away from one reality to another reality.
So, what is the point of this writing?
It is actually nothing.
Perhaps, the reason why I write has the same reason why I read books?
I just want to run away from reality for a moment.
And at this time when you are reading my writing,
it is the time when you are running away from your reality...
...to my reality.
0 komentar:
Posting Komentar