a history lesson

so today i finished reading the history of love..
it is such a gem of a book. there are people in it who i cannot ever imagine meeting anyone remotely like them, but they become quite real, visible and loveable.
like the shadow of the wind, it is a book about a book - and all the necessary puzzles thrown up by a fiction book concerning a fictional book - who in the book wrote the second book, the time is was written and parellels with the time in which a main character is reading it. and the confusion between the book you are reading and the book the character is reading..it messes with your head more in the shadow of the wind, but the book within the history of love is just beautiful, i wish it were a real book. i would hand it out faster than i could ever give out gospel tracts i'm sure...

it just makes you wonder how much you would be prepared to risk your heart...how able you would be to move on if the person you love moved on from you...it makes you think how would i carry myself through, if i had no certainty in my life...where would i be without the pillars of people that i find around me...

the two children in the book are so lost as their father has died and their mother half-gone with him....the old man has nothing but obsession, and imaginings, and regrets and letters unsent. the other old man, spent his whole life lying just so he could be defined by something...

the tone of voice often lead me to laugh out loud when on the bus..lunchtime at work..in my bed...there is sharp honesty and poetic daydreaming aplenty...

it makes me feel a bit like when i first listened to august and everything after - how could anyone even try to write music after hearing this?!
how could i ever think of writing a book, when someone has already written the history of love...?!