Is it possible, finally, for one human being to achieve perfect understanding of another?
We can invest enormous time and energy in serious efforts to know another person, but in the end, how close are we able to come to that person’s essence? We convince ourselves that we know the other person well, but do we really know anything important about anyone?
—
Haruki Marukami, The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle
I’ve always thought this answer to be no, and it sometimes bothers me. But really, isn’t it better this way?
—
I read the entire 607 page book between Boston and Amsterdam. The last time I had such a long, intense reading session was sometime in elementary school. It was so engrossing and I had no glowing screens to distract me. I want to say something profound about it— it’s the type of book that prods people that way — but maybe attempting that after an effective all-nighter is futile. I may not have any special powers like Malta Kano, but I see more Murakami in my future.
