Reading

I recently bought the book "Giovanni's Room" by James Baldwin on the recommendation of this blogger. I must say, I was, am, happy to have read it. Lately, my reading has dwindled: dating, work, exhaustion; all have contributed to my decline in reading habits. But something about the post made me want to read the book. I felt drawn to read it.

Amazingly, I finished it relatively quickly (it is not a long book by any stretch, I was just able to focus on reading it within the constraints of work, sleep and other activities).

It is saddening. Not just because of the ending, of which we are made aware of in the first couple of pages of the book, but rather because of that certain and well-known state of human affairs when we, as individuals, are unable to express our true selves -- and not in the trite, cliche-ish sense of the phrase -- and share our feelings with and for those persons that come into our lives.

That inability is a prison without bars, a painstaking way of semi-living. I truly cannot fathom not communicating our feelings, it seems to me to be the natural and instinctive manner in which to relate to other people and, perhaps, the reason why I bore of conversations that center on the banal.

Unfortunately, David, the principal character in the book, is unquestioning of himself and his orientation; not unnatural when we first realize our attraction to the same sex. But his path is one of sadness and self-destruction. He lacks the desire to live fully, to love and to be loved. Like many people I have known. But why?

A.B.