It's been a while and during that time I've decided to visit one of my favourite past times, reading. School (HSC english advanced) discouraged me from properly enjoying reading for a year, but now that I've picked it up again I've actually realised how much HSC english has helped me enhance my respect for classical literature. (I know, you're probably going 'wtf' right now) Okay, when i mean classical literature I DO NOT mean Shakespeare. As much as I love the depressing undertones and mysteries of Hamlet and his hidden love for his mother and what not, I am not indulging myself in Shakespeare. For now, that is. ;) No, what I mean by classical literature are the wonderful Jane Austen novels we've all grown to love, the origin (debatable) of the love-hate relationship romance comedies we see so often that has become so clichéd; the wonderful murderer, Baptiste Grenouille, created by Suskind; the most logical, reasoned arguments of Sherlock Holmes and the short masterpieces of Kundera. (Google them if you have no idea what I'm on about).
Okay, so maybe I exaggerated a bit when I said I read all of them. (Well, technically it was implied) No, I haven't read all of them though I DO own the wonderful books which are currently located next to me. I HAVE read 'Perfume' and I AM in the process of reading Kundera's 'The Book of laughter and forgetting' AND the 'Adventures of Sherlock Holmes', so I didn't lie. I just manipulated the truth. A bit. But that is not why I'm blogging. I'm blogging because I've finally understand the power of words. Before, I never really considered how words and geniusly constructed sentences can effect ones perceptions; how one sentence can mean a myriad of things, but now I do. Maybe it's because I've been exposed of philosophy of science, which emphasises clarity in expression of thought, maybe it's because I'm studying sociology (identity and relational logic), maybe it's because I've finally matured, who knows because I certainly don't.
Even though a few sections are quite a tough read, not because of vocabulary but the depth of thought and process, Kundera really changes perspectives. I have yet to finish the book but so far the short anecdotes and fictional fantasies have really touched the meaning of 'to live'. Not to just breathe, but to live. To describe the essence of human action, the complexity of an individual shaped by past, present and future. One such crucial action is laughter, which I have just finished reading. It really made me question my sense of true happiness, or have I ever even experiences true happiness.
Now, you all should know before I go on, that I am definitely now a depressed teenager who is dreading life. (Okay, so maybe sometimes I am, but that's besides the point) No, I TRY (maybe not hard enough sometimes) to think positive and stay happy even if the situation may not call for it. Kundera's small declaration of laughter, however, really got me thinking almost to the point of doubting. At first and even now, I still don't get the entire part but just that small chapter had become the catalyst for me to start writing. There are plenty of other sections in which has touched me, caused me to think and reflect but I was never in the mood to blog. Now I am. :) First let me quote the basic idea:
Laughter? Do people even care about laughter? I mean real laughter, beyond joking mockery, ridicule. .... Living is being happy: seeing, hearing, touching, drinking, eating, urinating, defecating, diving into water and gazing at the sky, laughing and crying.... Up above, as the vault of this temple pleasure, is the sound of laughter, "that delightful trance of happiness, that utmost sensual pleasure of laughter. Unquestionably, such laughter is 'beyond joking, mockery, ridicule.'
Here, Kundera establishes two kinds of laughter: laughable laughter and laughter of sensual pleasure. What's the difference you might ask?Laughable laughter, as Kundera emphasises is laughing as ones misfortune, laughter with a CAUSE. Laughter as a consequence of action, Laughter of finding something funny. Here, you may ask, as I have asked myself, isn't that the cause of all laughter. Yes, it is. It is the origin of laughter, but whether your laughter changes into the second kind of laughter is the true question. We may being to laugh at something funny, but at time, (hopefully you have all experienced this at some point in you're lives) the laughter's (your sporadic shrieks) cause becomes forgotten in a moment of being, a moment of living in happiness, true happiness. You being laughing at nothing in particular but laughing for yourself, not AT yourself, but FOR yourself. This state essentially lets us go.
Yes, it was this revelation in Kundera's writing which caused me to reminisce and think, causing the me remember that certain points in my life in which this situation has happened. What shocked me was no clear memory came out. I almost panicked. Almost. As I sat on the train, (I was moving while reading this passage) I remembered the times of happiness, where I was caught in the moment. Yes I remember the times when I began to get caught into a moment, and when it ended but could never clearly remember it's inbetween. Questions clouded my thoughts; how? when? why? what? Simple questions, but I was unable to answer them. Now after writing all this I've come to realised the spur of true happiness, never stays with you. It is only during that moment in which you can find and achieve laughter of sensual pleasure. (no dirty thoughts please) and you can never return to the point in time no matter how you try. I feel familiar to those memories but never whole. As you will never know the truth, you will never know true happiness until you are experiencing it.
