Identity Crisis!

I am sitting at Starbucks after work (big surprise).
It is soooooo cold out.
But this coffee is soooooo good and warm.
It thaws the innards just right!
If they would only turn down the Christmas music a bit, everything would be perfect. Why do they insist on playing this music about sleighrides and bells so LOUD that you feel you are getting repeatedly kicked by the Clydesdale that is pulling the thing along....
“....dashing through the snow...”
Yes, all right! But turn it DOWN!

I just finished reading a great book. Well, last night I did.
Identity, by Milan Kundera.
[Sounds like a new perfume.... Identity, from Milan K.]
It is the first thing I have ever read by this author and it was definitely good enough to make me interested in reading more Kundera stuff. And even maybe getting the perfume.
It is short. It moves along well, gathering speed as it goes. But the ending.... umm... well, more about this in a bit.
To simplify (greatly) I want to say that the novel speaks forcibly regarding what can happen when someone delves into the deep intimate inner spaces of another, uninvited.
What happens when certain “privacies” are violated. In a word, it can be tragic. Even in the case of two people who are enjoying a healthy relationship, in all other respects. As is the case with our two main characters in this story: Jean-Marc and Chantal.
They are a loving, mutually devoted, intellectual couple. After the death of her five-year old son, Chantal left her husband to be with Jean-Marc. They met at a ski-lodge. They enjoy a somewhat bohemian lifestyle, filled with lots of restaurant dates and two-sided philosophical conversation.
Everything is sort of tickety-boo, until Chantal reveals to Jean-Marc her specific inner angst.
“Men don’t turn to look at me anymore,” she says.
At first, this very much puzzles him. Why should such a thing matter?
“Is that really why you’re sad?” he asks.

[There is a God! They just took that wretched music off and are playing some real mellow stuff now...]

Jean-Marc is confused because.... well, shouldn’t it be enough that he himself is enthralled with her? That he chases after her?
But Chantal has spoken what was in her mind.
And now it’s... out there.
What will happen?
What will Jean-Marc do, with this information?

He also tends to be going through some “identity” issues, (Chantal earns five times as much money as he does, and this bothers him) although he is not quite as debilitated as she is, at the current time. Or so it seems, at least.
I really do not want to say too much about what happens, because well, there is no way of saying much more without really spoiling things for someone who has not read the book. And I want you to read it. Maybe I’ve said too much already.
So I’m going to just shut my yapper now.
No, just one more thing.
The story makes me ask myself: Is it possible to know too much about someone you truly love?
My answer is YES.
Should each person in the relationship be allowed their secrets?
My answer is YES.
Allowed some privacy?
My answer would be... Most Definitely.

Oh yes. The ending of the book.
A bit of a disappointment for me. Both in the structure of the ending, as well as the summation itself. A little too abrupt, inconclusive, contrived, and confusing, for me.
And I mean, an ending is darn important. Darn tootin.’
But for the enjoyment of the subtleties of the rest of the book, and the gorgeous language (even in translation) throughout, I would still highly recommend it.
My copy (the Faber & Faber, shown above) is only 153 pages.
If it was 800 or 900 pages and had the same ending? Yes, I would have kicked the nearest innocent stranger right in the shins!

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