This is the second of Kundera’s books that I have read – the first being Immortality – and both times I have been put off by the meandering nature of the story and the way that it becomes unclear whether events are truly happening or whether they are metaphors for something else. The books seem so dense, as if you are wading through thigh-high, thick liquid when you read them, and yet nothing much seems to happen. Perhaps this is a European style of writing that does not appeal to me, or a Czech style, or perhaps it’s just Kundera himself. No matter what it is, I can still appreciate the poetry of Kundera’s language and the pertinent observations that come bubbling up in the course of the story, even if I cannot appreciate the story as a whole.

I was interested in the premise of this book, but wound up wishing it was over MUCH quicker than it actually was. I struggled to finish because I couldn’t begin to care about any of the characters. There was so little development of the central individuals…perhaps the writing style was meant to let us discover their characteristics ourselves, but I didn’t enjoy it at all.

Update: changing my review from 2 stars to 1 after realizing its one of my least favorite books. Sorry!