laughter
I am reading Kudera's 'Immortality'. (and for the first time, I am pissed off with his writing. it seems to be too whimsical - paul, laura, goethe, bettina, laura, ruben! where the fuck did he come from? where's immortality now? where did goethe go? wh y did her death c o me after Paul's life after her death? multiple strands woven together irregularly, whimsically. this book is almost a " modern art " (said disdainfully) with its whimsical (but intelligent) movements playing in a private symphony without a thought to audience's public nature. ) Anywa y, Kundera makes a beautiful revelation (as he always does ) ab out laughte r ( surprisin gly in this book. instead of his ' laughter and forgetting ' . perhaps a post scri pt - a draft piece that had to find a place 'somewhere '. ) He compares modern photographic images to classical paintings and sculptures - the key difference illuminated here being that of the countenance...