Meg Frampton, Meg & Dia

Wow, it's interesting being on the other end of things by being the one choosing the book and instigating the discussions. Invigorating, I must say! Shawn -- I find it extremely amusing that one of our fliers ended up playing the role of your bookmark. Should have thrown it away when you had the chance. Colin -- I'm glad you are enjoying the book. Emily -- I'm sorry you didn't find it as entertaining.

By being part of a book club in which I'm sure one of the underlying aims is to bring the minds of females and males closer together and to prove an even understanding between the sexes is perfectly capable of existing, I'm a bit hesitant to have a desire to interject another female point of view after reading Emily's last comment. In my opinion, Kundera isn't making excuses for male immoral behavior. I'm as much aghast at the prospect of the bad treatment of women, naturally.

The reason why I am in love with this book is because of his presentation of human character and real life. All the crazy concepts that come with being alive like sex and love and lust and apathy and fear, they can't possibly be the same to every person. And morals in each society make a general outline of what a person should hope to experience or learn when participating in any of the above mentioned activities.

Maybe those of us more apt to develop an understanding for the author's torturous poetry and accept the book haven't found love in a long while or just fell out of a bad case of it. Who knows? I ask -- please, please, don't throw this book against a wall. Kundera is a cocky bastard but he doesn't deserve to have his spine broken.

On a less constructive note, I thought that if Kundera was A) the second electric cellist in mid-period Yes and B) about to drop the Unbearable EP he'd have some excellent potential song titles: 1. "Formal Sorcery" 2. "Inventing Symposia" 3. "Merely Another Father" 4. "Version Of Eternal Return." I'd definitely download that for free!

Elizabeth Seward, Spelling and Grammar

Hey everyone! This is my first contribution to this book club! First of all, thank you, Meg, for choosing this book. I was only a few pages into it before realizing I was thoroughly spellbound. While the cliché of musicians seeking reinforcement for their infidelities, as discussed above, could very well be a common denominator among many musician fans of this book, I contend that there's a lot more to it than that. This book, for me, dealt with the dissonance that haunts a lot of us when we try to ground our own existentialism. The pain we inflict on others almost invariably comes from a place of pain in ourselves, or so it seems to me.

At first, I felt I could relate to Tomas on an almost uncomfortable level. His inabilities to commit but constant longings to please aren't at all unfamiliar to me. However, there was a turning point in this book for me where Tomas began to feel more like what I work diligently not to be, and wish to never become, than a kindred spirit. I think this was when he married Tereza.

The idea of marrying someone to appease them disgusts me. He was never honest in the ways that he should have been with Tereza. He could have easily taken note of the fact, through her dreams and behavior, that she was not on par with him morally. Tereza was not a creature of polygamy. And I think that it was more wrong of Tomas to keep her around his arm, knowing the pain his "erotic friendships" caused her, than it was for her to stay with him, always hoping for the best.

Fears of infidelity in a relationship, I feel, have little to do with sex. No, sexual connections really have nothing to do with it -- not for me, at least. I think the torment Tereza experienced was planted in a soil of fear, yes, but a different kind of fear. The real concern in this situation, for which every lover is being forsaken, is the fear that you'll lose your companion... your best friend... this person who you share the most intimate aspects of your life with -- your tears, your anger, your plans.

I can relate to all of the characters in this book, as I'm sure you all can, too. We all have ins and outs with our love lives, nights of crying, nights of being more dishonest than we should, days when our ghosts of our pasts haunt us more than they should ever be allowed, etc. But the real dilemma I find here, the REAL common denominator, is the title itself: The Unbearable Lightness of Being. Or the unbearable heaviness of being. Or how about the unbearable… being?

Being, in itself, is a push and pull if you wish to reach into yourself at all. If you wish to serve your mind, body, soul, and spirit simultaneously, you will rarely sleep soundly. How exactly does one go about planning for the future they may not even have while savoring today enough to make living worthwhile? I think all beings who have connected the said realms of themselves to life feel this tension. And where does the cadence lie? I'm still trying to figure it out, the same way all of the characters in this book were trying to figure it out.

More discussion highlights on page 4.