It's been long that I've read a novel of such theme. Because it is not that that thick at 218 pages, I grabbed it from Manong Jay-AR's room assuring him I will return it before weekend. I was unprepared upon readig it.r I have immersed myself on the world of LOTR lately or must have swayed away that much by Sheldon's (blessed be his soul) that I have to buoy my feelings. The realities presented in The Reader is of different exhilaration than those previous reads. Set after the Nazi regime, the book is repeatedly erotic, highly philosophical, guilt-laden, very moving. A story of a 30-ish female bus conductor turned Nazi camp guard (aka murderer) who was nameless for good numbr of pages and a sickly 15-year old boy (she call him 'Kid') and their tryst... showers, making love, lying together, him reading her a book and the repeatition of those actions. It's an 'in your face' experience on how emotions can be tricky, as if you've known someone totally but realizing how strange she could still be. It's like you know her next moves and yet, you are caught by surprise at everything she does. It's the inconsolable thought of how lovers make love for countless times (and loving it) and yet stand as strangers, seemingly univolved with their individual lives after meeting a number of years after. I remember that feeling of reading Elie Wiesel's 'Night' or Camus' ' The Stranger', that same electrifying depression, detachment from human feelings, strangeness of beings etc, etc...
I could almost hear Simon and Garfunkel's
"in the naked night I saw, ten thousand people maybe more.
People talking without speaking, people hearing without listening..."
It is hopeful anyway, and redeeming....highly edifying.
