How does a hundred year old guy think? What must have become of his memories?
Are his eyes milky and bottomless when you imagine him?
What is Bulgaria?
Who was Einstein?
What’s the significance of music in one’s passage of life?
ULRICH our hero, our underdog, our torch in dark communist regimes, is what we would like to think of our protagonist. But as the pages fly one realises that the protagonist is going to remain what he had been: An underdog. Each one of us can identify with him. For he is a rebellious but failed son, a want to be famous musician, a losing husband and for better or worst, he remains a chemist inside his heart. He weeps, he laughs, he mourns at all that was lost surrounding him. He imagines burning violins, dancing gypsies, gun totting gangsters, his last days with his mother.
The structure of the story is flawless. The author wants us to know the mental state of his protagonist is unstable and cannot be relied on completely. It can be seen that the author fills in where the protagonist can’t. He makes sure that we can see the protagonists daydreams.
How fragile can be a dream. It can be very fragile. It depends on the cruelty of characters in it. Do violin strings burn coppery red?
How painful is it do sleep with someone after they have just misconceived? Do rivers hum with radioactivity when heavy metals are dumped in them?
Maybe this is the the first time I’m not writing a review, but questioning what would become of us.
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