He was not at all sure he was doing the right thing, but he was sure he was doing what he wanted to do.

THE UNBEARABLE LIGHTNESS OF BEING

The book:

When I started researching international books for this blog, I searched “best translated books for X country”. In the case of Czechia (once the Czech Republic and Czechoslovakia), one book and author stood head and shoulders above the rest. His premiere novel is set in Prague during the 1960s and 1970s.

For our first visit to Central Europe I read The Unbearable Lightness of Being (1984) by Milan Kundera. Just from the title, I expected some musings on life and happiness, but the style surprised me. Kundera writes his characters as an extension of himself, and so his narration hovers over their lives. As well, the “chapters” average two pages but scenes can flow across chapters with no standard delineation. I have described this book as approachable philosophy since the characters do overly dwell on existential matters, these are still everyday concerns. Just in greater depth than you or I would think on them.

Spoiler: Ultimately, the unfaithful husband (Tomas) and his jealously scared wife (Tereza) decide to leave the trappings of society behind and retire to the countryside. His longtime lover (Sabina) ends up in America to escape the pomp of Czech protesters and European sensibility. Her faithful lover (Franz) leaves his wife, but gains a young and trusting student girlfriend, before dying for a pointless cause far from home.

The author:

Milan Kundera styles himself as a French-born Czech writer (1940), and even exiled himself from the Czech Republic in 1975. An early Communist Party member, he was expelled twice for “anti-party activities” along with a compatriot. His novels are all pro-communism, but he stresses they are strictly novels with philosophical digressions on ideological themes. Kundera was stripped of his Czechoslovak citizenship in 1979 and gained French citizenship in 1981. (Was he a citizen of the world for 2 years?)

Originally, he wrote in Czech. From 1993 onward, he has written his novels in French. Between 1985 and 1987 he undertook the revision of the French translations of his earlier works. As a result, all of his books exist in French with the authority of the original. His books have been translated into many languages. He and his wife still live in France, rarely visiting Czechia.

Translation:

American Michael Henry Heim (1943-2012) was such a prolific translator that part of his legacy is the book The Man Between: Michael Henry Heim and A Life in Translation, which includes a short autobiography. Heim translated over 60 books in his lifetime and was fluent in Czech, Russian, Serbo-Croatian, Hungarian, Romanian, French, Italian, German, and Dutch. Besides translator work, he was a Professor of Slavic Languages at UCLA.

Additionally, upon his death Heim’s widow revealed that Heim was the anonymous donor responsible for the PEN Translation Fund—the largest fund in America supporting up-and-coming translators.

There were a few small slips of language, and not much humor came through (not sure if that was intentional). Certain words such as “tragicomic” are not used casually in English. As well, Americans are roundly mocked at a Cambodian-Thai protest, which was amusing.

What I loved:

The beautiful language. I haven’t read much philosophical fiction, but I was intrigued by the flowing phrases and rumination on the slightest phrases. Kundera wanted to challenge Nietzche’s concept of eternal recurrence by stating that that each person has only one life to live and that which occurs in life occurs only once and never again. Hence the heaviness vs. lightness.

For how can we condemn something that is ephemeral, in transit? In the sunset of dissolution, everything is illuminated by the aura of nostalgia, even the guillotine.

THE UNBEARABLE LIGHTNESS OF BEING

We can never know what to want, because, living only one life, we can neither compare it with out previous lives nor perfect it in our lives to come.

THE UNBEARABLE LIGHTNESS OF BEING

The humanity. As extensions of the author himself, these characters are incredibly and delightfully human. Tomas’ entire story arc is defined by his pride: masculine sexual pride and his political opinions. Tereza is inhibited by her insecurity and attachment. They make mistakes and try to find shortcuts. A lot of their political and relationship attitudes were incredibly Czech and a revelation for this American liberal.

To assuage Tereza’s sufferings, [Tomas] married her…and gave her a puppy. It was born to a Saint Bernard owned by a colleague. The sire was a neighbor’s German shepherd.

THE UNBEARABLE LIGHTNESS OF BEING

The quest for love. As I just mentioned, I appreciated the foibles and follies of Kundera’s characters, especially when it comes to love. Tereza always sought it, and Tomas tried to avoid it. Franz found it too easily and Sabina kept having it heaped upon her. Despite his cynicism, Kundera imbued his novel with a mythic hope for pure love overcoming all odds.

He suddenly recalled the famous myth from Plato’s Symposium: People were hermaphrodites until God split them in two, and now all the halves wander the world over seeking one another. Love is the longing for the half of ourselves we have lost.

THE UNBEARABLE LIGHTNESS OF BEING

What I liked:

The books. Naive though it may be, I was touched by Tereza’s attitude toward books. She always wanted to rise above the earthiness of her mother’s life and reading offered her an escape. However, that relationship with books inspired her to see Tomas as an instant soulmate. As well, she found Anna Karenina as light reading. A very ambitious European notion.

The coincidences. Tereza placed an over-sized emphasis on coincidental occurrences in an effort to change her life. I felt connected to this idea because of how I met my boyfriend. My car broke down in a storm, so I had to ride with friends. We were supposed to attend one party, but ended up going dancing. My now-boyfriend’s car also broken down, so he rode with a friend that wanted to go dancing. Otherwise, we would’ve never met.

But is not an event in fact more significant and noteworthy the greater the number of fortuities necessary to bring it about?

THE UNBEARABLE LIGHTNESS OF BEING

The historical intersection. As an American, our usual view of Europe is related to World War II and rarely focuses on domestic conflict, such as the Prague Spring. The Cold War is a fascinating time period and it’s too easy to focus on just the USSR and USA and ignore other players. I really enjoyed Tereza’s role as a photographer capturing the Russian soldiers in compromising positions.

What I could do without:

The graphic sex. To be honest, I’m no stranger to a well-written sex scene, but there’s one difference in this novel: the male gaze. The overwhelming majority of my books are written by women, especially the romance novels. The majority of Tomas’ conquests are simply bodies to fill the time between work and home. Women are not really for pleasure, but to satisfy his deep desire to understand them, unlocking a mystery.

Here, too, perhaps, his passion for surgery and his passion for women came together. Even with his mistresses, he could never quite put down the imaginary scalpel. Since he longed to take possession of something deep inside them, he needed to slit them open.

THE UNBEARABLE LIGHTNESS OF BEING

The timeline. SPOILER The reader learns early on that Tomas and Tereza decamp to the Czech countryside and die in obscurity. Beyond that, the dissolution of various relationships happens in a strange order. Besides the Soviet invasion and the Cambodia-Vietnam protest that Franz attends, it’s surprisingly difficult to place this historical novel in time.

The recommendation:

Fun fact: an American studio adapted this book into a film starring Daniel Day-Lewis, Lena Olin and Juliette Binoche. Milan Kundera disliked the film so much that he banned any of other novels from being adapted. That statement doesn’t inspire much confidence from this reader.

As for the book, I think it’s great for anyone that wants to reflect on their own life. Personally, I think seeing other people fail is a twisted way to boost myself. As well, Kundera does demonstrate that contentment can be found for even the most broken of people. The inner struggle would be nice to avoid, though.