Plot? What plot. No such thing here and at the same time the book follows so fluently one fascinating chain of events. If I try to describe what the book is About , I will fail. However I can say that it is like a box. A box full of thoughts, events, memories, empathy, lists , boxes , places , labyrinths and minotaurs. Yes minotaurs. It is about sorrow as well. All kinds of sorrow.
Here are some of my favorite quotes from the book. Maybe they will explain it better…
“God is an insect that is looking at us. Only something that small can be everything.”
“What happens to the names when their owners die? Did they set them free? Do the names still mean something after, or do they fall apart like their owners and the only thing left is the bones of the consonants?”
“The dead taught me to read… The people that taught me to read are no longer here. The things that I was about to read since then are written by dead people. The words that I am writing now are words of a person that is going to…. I didn’t know that beneath the language, there is so much death.”
“I have a phobia of one question. “How are you?” ... How can I find an answer which does not make you use clichés, answer which is not a lie, but at the same time does not revile things that you don’t want to revile. An answer, which does not predispose to a long meaningless conversation.”
“The most depressing thing in a labyrinth is that you are always in a situation where you can make a choice. It is not the lack of an exit, it is the presence of too many “exits” that is confusing.”