4:00am and not sure what I’m doing. Still can’t sleep. Not at all tired. My mind is tired, very tired and extremely sick of thinking, and my body is horribly sore from the gym, but I’m not tired.
I finished reading book two of the Sarantine Mosaic today, by Guy Gavriel Kay. Tigana, one of my favorite novels, first introduced me to him in my junior year of college. Since then I read most of his work, though I still have a trilogy of his to read.
I’m never afraid to admit that I cry, and the end of this novel brought me to tears; we’ll return to this. I think that’s one reason why I read Kay with such passion. He writes with a mindset that reminds me of my own, where the true meaning and substance of the novel lies between character interaction, how people relate with one another, the bonds we form and break, the people that affect our lives the most and how we affect them. Like me, he’s also not afraid to torture and physically and mentally destroy his characters. He’s sadistic and masochistic, like me. Reading his novels, I can’t help but think he believes what I believe.
There are only two emotions—all others stem from and lead up to. There is pain, and there is love, and they are the basis of every emotion, the building blocks, the realest and purest emotions you can feel, the core of everything, and of course the two too often blend together. Kay’s characters all struggle so much, their conflicts as much, or more so, internal than external. Those are the real battles we fight; internal struggles to understand ourselves and where we stand in the world, what we truly want, what choices will lead us to the most happiness, where we’re supposed to be, to the people—friends and family and lovers—we’re supposed to be with. While Kay does not write “romance” stories, there’s always love as much as there is pain, and the love is always so real and wonderful and natural.
Being a hopeless romantic—I suppose I must stress hopeless—I can appreciate Kay’s style. Now that I consider it, the handful of books that have brought me to tears all involved some sort of romance, or love; they are different. Wizard in Glass made me weep; it’s so horribly torturous, so sad, so real and touching that you can’t help but just sit there, stunned, reading the same thing over and over; it made me physically ill. The Notebook made me cry, which is sort of sad to admit, but the novel is touching. Too bad everything else Sparks writes is awful. Feed still makes me cry and I’ve read it four or five times now; it frustrates me as well, how someone can just turn away from something, or someone, so amazing, be so blind to perfection and true happiness. Part of A Gathering Storm had me freaking out, tears running down my face and my hands shaking, and now Kay’s Lord of Emperors choked me multiple times. It ended exactly as I wanted it to end. So inspiring, yet so sad. I’m still thinking about, somewhat obsessively, many hours later.
The novel’s end reminded me of my dream from a few days ago—the last dream I can remember, oddly enough. Remember that dream? With me on a sloop, my friend dressed as an empress, waiting for me so regally and beautifully. Dolphins, finding our souls. Such a striking dream, among the most vivid and memorable and haunting. I’m usually welcome my dreams, am thankful for them. This one…I’m not sure. I don’t like having certain things, images and words and moments, stuck in my mind when all they do is bother me.
Anyway, the novel ended with a scene startlingly similar to my dream. No sloop or wormhole, but there were dolphins and souls being found, or finding each other, and new lives formed from an old friendship. Kay finally completed the circle he began at the beginning of the first novel; I think it was the best ending I’ve ever read to a novel, competing with Feed.
I don’t know what to read next. I began a Vonnegut novel, only to realize I’ve already read it, so I found another Vonnegut novel in my room. Only, it’s apparently a love story of sorts—if you know Vonnegut you know it won’t be traditional, or anything normal in the least—and I’m not sure that’s what I want to read right now. I should go buy Dance of Dragons or whatever the new “Song of Ice and Fire” novel is, but I don’t feel like going to the book store for absurd reasons.
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