The Unbearable Lightness of Being
It should be quite obvious by now that I love to read and overanalyze just about everything. I’m an English major, so I suppose this is expected of me. The majority of my life is going to be spent reading and analyzing texts. Getting to the point, though, last night I finished re-reading Milan Kundera’s The Unbearable Lightness of Being. I first came across this novel four years ago and found it to be excessively philosophical and heavy read. Last month, I decided to re-read this novel, and I found it to be simply staggering. This is the only novel I’ve ever read that’s been able to stir up so many emotions within me with random experimental phrases and philosophical musings.
I’m not a philosophy major. I’ve never taken a single course on philosophy, so if I make any grave errors, please let me know.
Kundera starts his novel with a chapter on Nietzsche and his concept of the ‘eternal return’, which basically explains that if something has happened once, it might as well as never have happened at all. In order for things in life to have any distinct meaning, they must be repeated. The problem is, of course, that life can only be lived once, so the ultimate question is: Can this life possibly have any sort of meaning whatsoever? If something must be repeated, and life cannot be repeated, does it really matter?
Without giving away any major spoilers, the plot structure, which is quite disconnected, tells a story of a womanizing doctor named Tomas. He is involved with a woman named Tereza, whom he claims to love, but cheats on continually throughout the text. The story takes place during the Prague Spring incident in Czechoslovakia, and jumps back and forth to Switzerland. When the Soviet Union recklessly invades Czechoslovakia and suppresses all intellectuals, artists or any other ‘counterrevolutionaries’, their lives are thrown into dismay. Kundera doesn’t waste time with physical description and instead uses a method called ‘psychological realism’, where he only intends on describing what they are feeling.
The title of the book has always fascinated me, and after re-reading it, I think I understand what Kundera is exactly referring to. Getting back to the concept of the ‘eternal return’, the “being”, or person, is full of “unbearable lightness”. If something that happened once does not matter, than it’s “light” as opposed to being heavy. If something is too light, it’s meaningless, and therefore, each life is insignificant and most decisions serve no real purpose. If these decisions really don’t matter, then they are “light”, but the paradoxical nature of this concept occurs when you realize the “lightness” of our lives is what’s “unbearable”. Ironically, the “lightness” of our lives and our “being” is actually heavy, as opposed to “light”. Therefore, the inadequacy of our decisions, our lives, or “being” (no matter how you take it), becomes unbearable with this “lightness”. Hence - “The Unbearable Lightness of Being”.
As I mentioned previously, the novel deals with Tomas, who believes that he can sleep with other women while he’s in love with Tereza, because he simply sees them once or twice, and that sexuality holds no emotional bonding. After meeting, Tereza believes that they should be together for an eternity. She’s a strict monogamist (such as myself), and a “heavy” character. Tomas, on the other hand, is the exact opposite and believes that they will fall out of contact and that their ‘relationship’ will be ultimately meaningless. This is largely due to the fact that Tomas is a “light” character. He doesn’t believe in commitment, but would rather go from person to person without any sort of emotional bonding. Upon meeting Tereza, and moving back to the now-oppressive Czechoslovakia, he experiences feelings of attachment, which lead to pure confusion. He becomes jealous and realizes he must give up his life of “lightness” and take on the weight of life. The past has no meaning, no substance or understanding of the present, because it’s merely the past, and human character defines itself, as Kundera explains, by the instant, which is what chance is. Tomas realizes the heavy burden of a relationship and being attached to someone. He realizes he must give up the “lightness” factor of his “being”, because it became “unbearable” through chance and circumstance. Tomas’ “being” isn’t just an individual characterization, but a collective one. This story is about everyone.
“Lightness”, from my interpretation, is a reference to people who live their lives superficially without any sense of morality. They have no regrets, concerns or desire for commitment. The opposite of “lightness”, being “heavy”, is living your life with commitment, sacrifices, love and “unbearable” burdens which essentially shape our lives. From my understanding, Kundera is trying to say that perhaps living “heavy” is lighter than living “light”, because ultimately if life only happens once, it can’t mean anything, so we try to find a meaning by living heavily and with meaning as opposed to carelessly.
Kundera’s style is most definitely existential and questions that if life is a mere chance and consequence and if everything just happens at random. This is very easy to understand when we look at our own lives. Most people that I’ve met, or become very close to in the past, were met by a complete chance. I just happened to be there at that moment. I could have been anywhere. I could have chosen not to go outside that day, or go online, or head to the corner store, or wearing that particular shirt and so on, and so forth. How many people have I met, by complete chance, I wonder? (if anyone has seen any films by Wong Kar Wai, you might understand what I’m talking about) If the circumstances would have been even slightly different, would it ever have happened? If something doesn’t happen, and life is meaningless if only lived once, than the consequences of my actions, whether I proceeded with them or not, are completely null. In this novel, Tomas questions why there had been six separate and random instances where he ran into Tereza. Was it meant to happen? These incidents could have occurred an infinite number of times without them ever being a “couple”.
This, of course, is only the surface of what Kundera presents in this text. It goes far beyond this and questions the relationship of love, happiness, sexuality and commitment. He questions how much control we really have over our lives and how it can have any meaning whatsoever if everything is just chance or completely random. Are we more different than we are alike? If so, does that make us completely incompatible, or do humans fundamentally thirst for fulfillment of something “different” to complete their lives and make them somewhat bearable?
I find myself far too sympathetic with the character of Tereza. There’s a part in the novel, which I can’t seem to find, where she proclaims, “How can you make love without being in love?”. It’s strange, because it makes me question my past a lot. She questions why people do these things and have no regrets. If someone has no regrets, how can they possibly learn from their mistakes? This doesn’t mean one must spend their lives elaborating on mistakes and mishaps, but accepting that, “Yes, I acted out of impulse. No, I wouldn’t do that again. Ever.” is heavy. I often question my own past and ask myself: if I were in the same situations again, would I do the same things? I certainly hope not, because I don’t want to live a life of “lightness” because it’s far too “unbearable”. As one of my friends once said, “It’s impossible not to find yourself somewhere in this book”.
I’ll admit, this novel almost made me cry the second time I finished reading it. It hits a really soft spot in me for a number of reasons I won’t explain. I don’t expect anyone to agree with Kundera, Nietzsche or any commentary I’ve added to their works and the concepts they’ve presented. I know they’re real for me and “unbearable” for others. I could write forever about this novel, but all I’m going to say is, if you’re looking for a deep (I hate that word), philosophical read, I highly suggest The Unbearable Lightness of Being by Milan Kundera.
I’m not a philosophy major. I’ve never taken a single course on philosophy, so if I make any grave errors, please let me know.
Kundera starts his novel with a chapter on Nietzsche and his concept of the ‘eternal return’, which basically explains that if something has happened once, it might as well as never have happened at all. In order for things in life to have any distinct meaning, they must be repeated. The problem is, of course, that life can only be lived once, so the ultimate question is: Can this life possibly have any sort of meaning whatsoever? If something must be repeated, and life cannot be repeated, does it really matter?
Without giving away any major spoilers, the plot structure, which is quite disconnected, tells a story of a womanizing doctor named Tomas. He is involved with a woman named Tereza, whom he claims to love, but cheats on continually throughout the text. The story takes place during the Prague Spring incident in Czechoslovakia, and jumps back and forth to Switzerland. When the Soviet Union recklessly invades Czechoslovakia and suppresses all intellectuals, artists or any other ‘counterrevolutionaries’, their lives are thrown into dismay. Kundera doesn’t waste time with physical description and instead uses a method called ‘psychological realism’, where he only intends on describing what they are feeling.
The title of the book has always fascinated me, and after re-reading it, I think I understand what Kundera is exactly referring to. Getting back to the concept of the ‘eternal return’, the “being”, or person, is full of “unbearable lightness”. If something that happened once does not matter, than it’s “light” as opposed to being heavy. If something is too light, it’s meaningless, and therefore, each life is insignificant and most decisions serve no real purpose. If these decisions really don’t matter, then they are “light”, but the paradoxical nature of this concept occurs when you realize the “lightness” of our lives is what’s “unbearable”. Ironically, the “lightness” of our lives and our “being” is actually heavy, as opposed to “light”. Therefore, the inadequacy of our decisions, our lives, or “being” (no matter how you take it), becomes unbearable with this “lightness”. Hence - “The Unbearable Lightness of Being”.
As I mentioned previously, the novel deals with Tomas, who believes that he can sleep with other women while he’s in love with Tereza, because he simply sees them once or twice, and that sexuality holds no emotional bonding. After meeting, Tereza believes that they should be together for an eternity. She’s a strict monogamist (such as myself), and a “heavy” character. Tomas, on the other hand, is the exact opposite and believes that they will fall out of contact and that their ‘relationship’ will be ultimately meaningless. This is largely due to the fact that Tomas is a “light” character. He doesn’t believe in commitment, but would rather go from person to person without any sort of emotional bonding. Upon meeting Tereza, and moving back to the now-oppressive Czechoslovakia, he experiences feelings of attachment, which lead to pure confusion. He becomes jealous and realizes he must give up his life of “lightness” and take on the weight of life. The past has no meaning, no substance or understanding of the present, because it’s merely the past, and human character defines itself, as Kundera explains, by the instant, which is what chance is. Tomas realizes the heavy burden of a relationship and being attached to someone. He realizes he must give up the “lightness” factor of his “being”, because it became “unbearable” through chance and circumstance. Tomas’ “being” isn’t just an individual characterization, but a collective one. This story is about everyone.
“Lightness”, from my interpretation, is a reference to people who live their lives superficially without any sense of morality. They have no regrets, concerns or desire for commitment. The opposite of “lightness”, being “heavy”, is living your life with commitment, sacrifices, love and “unbearable” burdens which essentially shape our lives. From my understanding, Kundera is trying to say that perhaps living “heavy” is lighter than living “light”, because ultimately if life only happens once, it can’t mean anything, so we try to find a meaning by living heavily and with meaning as opposed to carelessly.
Kundera’s style is most definitely existential and questions that if life is a mere chance and consequence and if everything just happens at random. This is very easy to understand when we look at our own lives. Most people that I’ve met, or become very close to in the past, were met by a complete chance. I just happened to be there at that moment. I could have been anywhere. I could have chosen not to go outside that day, or go online, or head to the corner store, or wearing that particular shirt and so on, and so forth. How many people have I met, by complete chance, I wonder? (if anyone has seen any films by Wong Kar Wai, you might understand what I’m talking about) If the circumstances would have been even slightly different, would it ever have happened? If something doesn’t happen, and life is meaningless if only lived once, than the consequences of my actions, whether I proceeded with them or not, are completely null. In this novel, Tomas questions why there had been six separate and random instances where he ran into Tereza. Was it meant to happen? These incidents could have occurred an infinite number of times without them ever being a “couple”.
This, of course, is only the surface of what Kundera presents in this text. It goes far beyond this and questions the relationship of love, happiness, sexuality and commitment. He questions how much control we really have over our lives and how it can have any meaning whatsoever if everything is just chance or completely random. Are we more different than we are alike? If so, does that make us completely incompatible, or do humans fundamentally thirst for fulfillment of something “different” to complete their lives and make them somewhat bearable?
I find myself far too sympathetic with the character of Tereza. There’s a part in the novel, which I can’t seem to find, where she proclaims, “How can you make love without being in love?”. It’s strange, because it makes me question my past a lot. She questions why people do these things and have no regrets. If someone has no regrets, how can they possibly learn from their mistakes? This doesn’t mean one must spend their lives elaborating on mistakes and mishaps, but accepting that, “Yes, I acted out of impulse. No, I wouldn’t do that again. Ever.” is heavy. I often question my own past and ask myself: if I were in the same situations again, would I do the same things? I certainly hope not, because I don’t want to live a life of “lightness” because it’s far too “unbearable”. As one of my friends once said, “It’s impossible not to find yourself somewhere in this book”.
I’ll admit, this novel almost made me cry the second time I finished reading it. It hits a really soft spot in me for a number of reasons I won’t explain. I don’t expect anyone to agree with Kundera, Nietzsche or any commentary I’ve added to their works and the concepts they’ve presented. I know they’re real for me and “unbearable” for others. I could write forever about this novel, but all I’m going to say is, if you’re looking for a deep (I hate that word), philosophical read, I highly suggest The Unbearable Lightness of Being by Milan Kundera.