The Book of Laughter and Forgetting

Kundera's The Unbearable Lightness of Being is one of my favorite novels. I feel more mixed about his earlier work, The Book of Laughter and Forgetting. A blurb from the New York Times describes it as "part fairy tale, part literary criticism, part political tract, part musicology and part autobiography." I can certainly see all that. It's rather loosely structured into seven parts, each one of which could be seen as (mostly) independent short stories, even if one of the characters, Tamina, is repeated and Kundera insists she is central. Within the novel itself, Kundera himself sometimes intrudes as a first person narrator and breaks the fourth wall, at times telling stories purportedly about himself and how his life became entangled show more with his country and its convoluted history--once upon a time part of the Austria-Hungarian Empire, then an independent republic, then under Nazi then Soviet domination, which still cast its shadow when this was written in 1977. In the midst and as part of the novel he explicitly explains the novel's meaning. "This book is a novel in the form of variations.... It is a novel about laughter and about forgetting, about forgetting and about Prague, about Prague and about the angels." In the first pages Kundera tells us that the "struggle of man against power is struggle of memory against forgetting" and he also tells us that that "bursting out in... ecstatic laughter is [to be] without memory."

Despite such explicit explanations of the theme, I can't pretend to see how all the stories fit together, or how Tamina is central and others the mirror to her experience. This is a far less unified work than The Unbearable Lightness of Being, less realistic (parts of it are so surreal they can't possibly be taken as literally happening) and I found it far less moving. At the same time, unlike the case with many such novels, I didn't feel disappointed or as if it was a failure of the author. I do like it less than the other novel, but this one fascinated me in a way I could see reading it again, or wanting to read more about it and discuss it to understand how everything fits. It's an alienating novel in its way--I can't say I connected with any of the characters--particularly that of Kundera himself given a rather disturbing account of him and a woman I don't know whether to take as really having happened or not. Besides the surreal touches there's also quite a lot of sexual (though not particularly graphic) kink I'm not sure what to make of thematically. So I'm not sure always what Kundera is trying to say overall with the various stories--but often he says it beautifully, and parts are quite funny. There are so many lines and passages that are quote-worthy and worth a reread--such as his musings on twelve-tone music which is about so much more than just music. I couldn't help but contrast this to Joyce's Ulysses, which I read recently and to so much modernist literature in general. It seems literary critics only count as profound these days the near incoherent. They confuse difficulty in reading with complexity or profundity. Kundera's prose is fairly simple, and often lyrical, and in a line-by-line sense absolutely lucid and was always a joy to read--but that doesn't make his novel simple in meaning or in any way simplistic. show less

Prior to putting my thoughts into words, I usually allow a few days to pass after an initial reading, but I was so enthusiastic about "The Book of Laughter and Forgetting", I immediately went into action.

Told in seven distinct parts, I was thrown off balance at the beginning as the book takes on the appearance of a collection of short stories. But as Milan Kundera explains to the curious reader, a novel can take many forms and Kundera definitely stretches the boundaries in that regard. He explains “I have in mind the novelist’s desire to grasp his subject from all sides and in the fullest possible completeness. Ironic essay, novelistic narrative, autobiographical fragment, historical fact, flight of fancy”. And "The Book of show more Laughter and Forgetting" includes all of these things. In many ways his writing reminds me of Franz Kafka, a fellow Czechoslovakian.

And true to the title, the seven snapshots of fiction all revolve around laughter and forgetting. Humorous, bleak, thought provoking and provocative, Kundera shows the reader examples of the joy and danger in both the emotion of laugher and the human capacity to forget.

On forgetting… the old cliche “ignorance is bliss” may apply. What we don’t remember about the history of civilization, our own country, and our personal lives can sometimes be a relief; no more guilt, no more remorse, no more sadness, anger, or yearning for the past. But what is left in the place of memories is an empty void. Non-existence. Kundera relates this to his own personal history, his various characters, and the population in general. His point of reference is the history of his own countrymen of Czechoslovakia. Kundera explains, “ In the course of a mere half century, it experienced democracy, fascism, revolution, Stalinist terror, as well as disintegration of Stalinism, German and Russian occupation, mass deportations, the death of the West in its own land. It is sinking under the weight of history”. Czechoslovakia lost its freedom to a communist regime where censorship prevails and history is rewritten to suit those in power. The real past no longer exists.

Several quotes on forgetting:

“ The first step in liquidating a people is to erase its memory. Destroy its books, its culture, its history. Then have somebody write new books, manufacture a new culture, invent a new history. Before long a nation will begin to forget what it is and what it was. The world around it will forget even faster.”

“People are always shouting they want to create a better future. It’s not true. The future is an apathetic void of no interest to anyone. The past is full of life, eager to irritate us, provoke and insult us, tempt us to destroy or repaint it. The only reason people want to be masters of the future is to change the past.”

In regards to anyone proclaiming that children are the future- “The reason children are the future is not that they will one day be grownups. No, the reason is that mankind is moving more and more in the direction of infancy, and childhood is the image of the future.”

On laughter: Kundera explores the meaning of laughter and uses various scenarios to elaborate. Several quotes:

“Laughing deeply is living deeply.”

“Laughter is the province of the Devil. There is a certain amount of malice to it. The Devils laugh pointed up the meaninglessness of things.”

“But in retaliation the Angels laugh too in pure joy as a way to show appreciation for “how rationally organized, well conceived, beautiful, good, and sensible everything on earth was.”

Similar to Franz Kafka, Milan Kundera’s vocabulary is simple, clean, and concise. It is a marvel how the characters become crystal clear and the plot unfolds effortlessly.... so definitive with brilliance and clarity. Also, similar to Kafka is the sense of mystical surreal absurdity. In contrast, where much of Kafka’s writing is subtle and spiritual, Kundera’s writing is penetrating, carnal, and more politically candid.

Reading other critical reviews, some people judge Kundera’s writing too scattered... too crude. In my opinion, everything Kundera writes is symbolic of what is going on in the world and regardless of whether we totally understand every scenario he creates, grasp every concept he is illustrating, or agree with him morally or politically, I admire his courage, his intellect, and his imagination. His contribution to literature deserves an arousing applaud. show less

Es complicado hacer una crítica acerca de una novela (o algo mucho más que eso) de Milan Kundera. Principalmente, porque se trata de un trabajo muy íntimo, muy especial y hasta personal. Da la impresión, incluso, de que invadimos su propia vida al hacernos con sus palabras. Palabras escritas con la hermosura de un maestro de la literatura.

El libro de la risa y el olvido trata sobre muchos temas, pero nunca sobre la risa o sobre el olvido. Porque la risa, aquí, aparece tintada de amargura y de tristeza. Porque cuando Kundera nos escribe sobre la risa, tan solo sabe hablar de risas falsas, o risas grises, tan grises que duelen. Y, en cuanto al olvido, el olvido no existe para Kundera, porque el olvido está lleno de recuerdos.

Tamira, show more el personaje principal, recueda muchísimo a Teresa (su personaje femenino protagonista de La insoportable levedad del ser). Bajo la misma permisa que sufría Teresa, Tamira (vaya, si hasta tienen nombres similares), también vive fuera de su país, víctima del exilio, y trabaja allí como camarera. Sufre la muerte de su marido, que Kundera aprovecha para hablar de la muerte de su propio padre con dulzura y dolor. La muerte, en sí, es un tema recurrente en esta obra de Kundera.

Hermosa, en el propio y estricto sentido de la palabra, refiriéndose a la hermosura literaria, he disfrutado enormemente de sus páginas, careciendo de medios propios para criticarla de modo alguno. Tal vez no soy imparcial con Milan Kundera, pero escribe las novelas que yo siempre he deseado leer. show less

Erm… if anyone can enlighten me on what it is I’ve just read, I’d be more than grateful. I really don’t have much of a clue.

While this had some great quotes in it and some erudite philosophy at points (reminded of a lot of de Botton’s recent books), I was totally mystified by the narrative elements of this book. Sure, I know that there’s supposed to be a connection, but, for the life of me, I just can’t see it.

The book’s mega famous right so there must be something here. So, if anyone can tell me what it is I’m supposed to be seeing here, it will redeem the time I’ve spent reading it. I felt though that I was staring at some really really famous abstract art and just not getting it.

I will comment on one part that show more struck me as a bit strange. He writes:

All of us are prisoners of a rigid conception of what is important and what is not, and so we fasten our anxious gaze on the important, while from a hiding place behind our backs the unimportant wages its guerilla war, which will end in surreptitiously changing the world and pouncing on us by surprise.

Well, if ALL of us are like this, then there isn’t a single one of us that is actually focussed on what’s important. That seems a very cynical way to look at the world.

And if no one can explain it to me, I guess I’ll just laugh and forget it. show less

Kundera wrote the Book of laughter and forgetting in 1978, ten years after the Prague spring, and more than ten years before the 1989 velvet revolution that ended the communist and totalitarian era in Czechoslovakia. At the time he lived in France as a refugee. This must have been a desperate time, without much hope for improvement. This sets the atmosphere for this book.

The author is a character in this book, that is a strange mixture of fiction, non-fiction and autobiography. The writer thinks about his native country, his people and its sad destiny. A central theme in this book is forgetting. For a totalitarian state forgetting is essential: let the people forget their history, forget where they came from, who their ancestors were, show more who their friends once were. Live in the present, in the collective joy of the here and now. Dance, and loose yourself in the drums of loud music. Stop thinking, leave that to those who are in power.

In the mean time the author writes stories, stories about forgetting, about refugees, about victims of the regime. About historians who were fired from universities, about the assassination of so-called traitors whose very existence was wiped out from history by even removing them from pictures. About the ones in the West who flirted with communism while people were killed by it.

A second theme is the theme of laughter, the two kinds of laughter: the laughing of devils and the laughing of angels, and how both can turn into a nasty extreme.

The book meanders around these themes that are explored both in made up stories and in real memories and experiences of the author. Variations on two themes, as a piece of music.

It's impressive writing, yet at the same time it is a book that very much belongs to the 1970's. Even if one could argue that there are still totalitarian states today, this book is very much about Czechoslovakia. A country that has been freed from totalitarianism, yet do all its inhabitants actually make use of their freedom of thought now? show less

Included with this edition is “A Talk with the Author,” a summary of two conversations between Kundera and Philip Roth. Of particular interest to me is Kundera’s comment that reveals the meaning of the title:

"The unity of a book need not stem from the plot, but can be provided by the theme. In my latest book, there are two such themes: laughter and forgetting." (p. 232)

As experimental novels go, The Book of Laughter and Forgetting is relatively successful and better than most.

Kundera begins with forgetting—a commentary on the recent history of his native Czechoslovakia and his most powerful statement on forgetting:

"The bloody massacre in Bangladesh quickly covered over the memory of the Russian invasion of Czechoslovakia, the show more assassination of Allende drowned out the groans of Bangladesh, the war in the Sinai Desert made people forget Allende, the Cambodian massacre made people forget Sinai, and so on and so forth until ultimately everyone lets everything be forgotten." (p. 3)

Laughter, too, embodies a universal truth for Kundera:

"Whereas the Devil’s laughter pointed up the meaninglessness of things, the angel’s shout rejoiced in how rationally organized, well conceived, beautiful, good, and sensible everything on earth was. . . . People nowadays do not even realize that one and the same external phenomenon embraces two completely contradictory internal attitudes. There are two kinds of laughter, and we lack the words to distinguish them." (p. 63)

Acts of sex are so frequent in Kundera’s narration that sex becomes as much a character as the characters who perform it. In the way that some writers may habitually bring their characters together over drinks at the pub, Kundera brings his characters together in coitus. This may be characteristic of all his work. I’ve only read one other of his novels, The Unbearable Lightness of Being, in which sex was most assuredly the main character. This realization is thought-provoking. Kundera’s sex character is neither titillating nor disgusting; s/he is just another player in the drama.

Kundera skillfully executes the novel-within-the-novel, and I forget I have been gently pushed into a fictional world within a fictional world. Still in a sphere of writers and artists living under the thumb of a repressive regime, I now inhabit the fractured world of Tamina, a young widow who struggles to reconcile life without her husband. A New York Times review suitably describes Laughter and Forgetting as “part fairy tale.” Kundera’s Tamina moves easily in and out of reality taking me with her, never quite sure if I am in a world of imagination or a commune of lost souls.

The Book of Laughter and Forgetting is of that genre of literature that invites the reader to come back again and again to see what more there is to be discovered. The nonfiction qualities of this book—Kundera’s description of the crushing disappointment of a revolution that only replaced one despot for another—are as intriguing to me as the fictional aspects. show less

Some beautiful, moving prose here, and some intense commentary pertaining to the cultural moment from which it emerged. In the end, though, I could not reconcile myself to the violence done to women in this novel--both the graphic sort and the "passive" sort, by which I mean the violence of squashing women into flat, objectified characters. I don't believe in giving a book a pass on this kind of thing just because it's old.