A short novella about death, death, and suicide. The sense of an ending; mighty black death approaching, yet one must be ready to accept death and the memory of the past.
This novella asks how good is our memory? do we really remember events as they happened or do we edit them to fit our present situation. Are we truthful or is our life filled with ‘white lies’.
A tale about 4 school friends, more like how did Adrian Finn affect the life of the others with his Eros and Thanatos philosophy, Is suicide the only true philosophical question as Camus wrote.
What does Tony remember about his friend 50 years later? What have changed.
I loved and hated Veronica.. she is indeed a cockteaser, but one would cry with her 50 yrs later.
It’s an amazing short read, yet it is dense and makes one think.
“My younger self had come back to shock my older self with what that self has been, or was, or was sometimes capable of being”
” They shall grow not old as we that are left to grow old”
” One day, I said to the barman Do you think you could do me thin chips for a change?
– How do you mean
You know, like in France- the thin ones
– No, we don’t do them
But it says on the menu your chips are hand-cut
Well can’t you cut them thinner
– Hand cut chips means fat chips
But if you handcut chips, couldn’t you cut them thinner?
– We don’t cut them. That’s how they arrive
You don’t cut them on the premises?
– That’s what I said
So what you call ‘hand-cut chips’ are actually cut elsewhere, and quite probably by a machine
– Are you from the council or something?
Not in the least. I’m just puzzled. I never realised that ‘hand-cut’ meant ‘fat’ rather than ‘necessarily cut by hand’
– Well you do now
I’m sorry. I just didn’t get it”
The last quote made me laugh real loud when I read it, because he is a lonely man, he lost touch with what is going on around him. He chose the solitary life, yet he wants to get the diary, and his ex-wife Margaret is his only friend, the one who could be called his conscious friend.