from Ian McEwan's ATONEMENT

That night creatures were drawn to lights where they could be most easily eaten by other creatures was one of those mysteries that gave her modest pleasure. She preferred not to have it explained away. At a formal dinner once a professor of some science or other, wanting to make small talk, had pointed out to a few insects gyrating above a candelabra. He had told her that it was the visual impression of an even deeper darkness beyond the light that drew them in. Even though they might be eaten, they had to obey the instinct that made them seek out the darkest place, on the far side of the light-- and in this case it was an illusion. It sounded to her like sophistry, or an explanation for its own sake. How could anyone presume to know the world through the eyes of an insect? Not everything had a cause, and pretending otherwise was an interference in the workings of the world that was futile, and could even lead to grief. Some things were simply so.

Lit Geek Update #5

Last Book I Read: Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro

I find it remarkable how Ishiguro manages to draw so much emotion with so little fanfare. The Remains of the Day put him in my list of must-read authors; but reading Never Let Me Go (the last part of which I read outdoors under a very quiet, very still, twilit sky, tinging everything a shade of orange) made me realize how much more he's capable of, not just to tug at heartstrings with such spare language.
The exposition left me quizzical, very much uncertain of the ground I was treading, but very much aware of some impending darkness that was about to unfold. And therein lies one of the strengths of this mildly eerie, wonderfully strange novel: it shows rather than tells, but inch by inch, so that the strategically-torn piece you are given leaves you hankering for the next one. And so it goes, until the middle part, where things seem to fall into place, but not just yet. The story is carefully, if not fastidiously, crafted, so that the end result is a finely-woven novel of pain and non-pain, of innocence and betrayal, of loss and acceptance, done with such breathtaking restraint.
After I put the book back on the shelf, I knew that the words carer, donor and completed would never again mean the same to me. This book taught me, made me realize how finally, we are all human and mortal, and that most of us take each day that we are alive--and free--for granted, not knowing there could be people out there who live, but are bound by painful, irrevocable destinies spelt out for them the even before they started being.

What I'm reading now: The Blind Assassin by Margaret Atwood