We had to read this for my postmodern international literature class as a sort of introduction to what international literature really is and how we as readers can benefit from it. At least, that’s what I think it was about. Oh wait, I have no idea, because MILAN KUNDERA MAKES NO GODDAMN SENSE. His writing style is one that buckles under its own pretentiousness, because I feel like he’s spending so much time trying to sound smarter than you that what he’s saying is a downward spiral of nothingness. It’s like he was digging himself into a deeper and deeper hole with every sentence, every obscure literary reference, every faint mentioning of a philosopher I’ve never heard of but it’s somehow super important.
To be fair, plenty of my classmates were like oh he’s talking about this and that and that’s awesome, because I wish I was able to get the grip on it that they had. But I remember looking at the text being like, I’m university trained to analyze words and sentences, if something looks like it doesn’t make sense, it probably doesn’t. Our teacher later told us that Kundera is known for his arrogance and in my head I was just like, CALLED IT. I may not have been able to understand what he was saying, but I could tell from the get go that he was saying it in a way that condescended to its readers.