I finished this book within a day and for the next one week, I found myself incapable of emotions. By now, you must have figured how absolutely passionate my reviews are and how much I love reading sad and depressing books. Well, really I am not ashamed. This is where I find myself truly enjoying the story and lose myself completely to the narrative. It is mostly because I find these stories much more relatable and they seem to have much more texture compared to other books. It’s not like I don’t like reading happy books. Take for example Roald Dahl books. They are hilarious. But they all have a sense of reality, which makes the humor more relatable and less forced.
“I hate the way the English have of not being serious about being serious, I really hate it,”
I don’t know why I went off-track. It was probably because I wanted to defend myself against all these comments about how I only review sad and tragic books. So now that you know, why I read what I read, let’s dive into the this book where a piece of my heart resides forever: The Sense of an Ending.
“I had wanted life not to bother me too much, and had succeeded, and how pitiful that was”
“The Sense of an Ending” — Barne’s 14th work of fiction —is a mystery of memory and missed opportunity. The constant question of whether Tony loved Veronica haunts you even after you have finished the book.
“We thought we were being mature when we were only being safe. We imagined we were being responsible but were only being cowardly. What we called realism turned out to be a way of avoiding things rather than facing them.”
The story has all the characters interwoven into one big twisted game that is life. The fact that the narrator (also the protagonist) is so lost and so confused himself is half the reason why throughout the book you feel like you’re trying to fit pieces of a big but beautiful puzzle.
You’ll probably be saying, “I need a drink” after watching this so I suggest you sit with one.