Home > the printed page, thoughts > the zahir.

the zahir.

Tonight, I spent 2 hours curled up on my bed, book in hand, lost in the words contained within the pages of Paulo Coelho’s novel “The Zahir”. Lost in the story of love, obsession, the story the pilgrimage that the narrator goes through. The changes. Oh, the changes.

Will I talk about the themes, the language, the prose used? Will I try and look for a science behind the paragraphs, the themes contained in the book? I certainly have done so in the past when writing about other forms of art.

But will I, now?

No.

I don’t know what I do want to say either.

Like a crash course in physics, the book’s themes and messages are entirely new to me. Yes, everyone knows about “love”, yet I doubt that many people will be able to read the book and not feel that “love” as presented in the book is so much more than what most people call “love”.

I feel as if I have not been able to completely grasp the book itself, the themes and the “message” presented within its pages. It almost feels as if I’m back in 2004, my first exposue to Physics, Chemistry, Biology and the ever-dreadful Additional Mathematics. I shut my mind to them, my first experience(s) being dreadful enough for me to be able to tell myself that “I’ll never be good enough at this.”

In the end, I was. Just about enough. But I digress.

The book was a journey. Not through Middle-Earth or Prydain (or any other fantasy land), but a journey through humanity itself.

I really, really don’t know what to say, except that it was a wonderful, thought-provoking read. Having said that, I will, perhaps, in the course of the coming week, ask myself whether I have actually learned and understood anything from the book.

Which is a weakness of mine. I sometimes feel that I put far too much emphasis on the act of “learning” and “understanding” something when, given time, I will find that I have understood it all along.

Of course, I may be reading far too much between the lines and making a mountain out of a molehill. Forgive me, for I often mull upon the themes that are presented and touched upon within the book and this is one of the few moments I have been able to write something organized enough for me to put on the Internet.

I would like to say more, but I feel that there’s nothing else to be said. At least, not by someone who is so incapable of transferring the inner voice into writing as I am.

Today, I also forgot to turn my phone’s “ring volume” back up. If I had, I would have been disrupted from my “journey” and probably have not been able to read through the book all at once. Reminds me of a few days back when I was having a wonderful dream and I was awoken not by a text message, but the alert/reminder on (all, I presume) Motorola phones that sounds at certain intervals when there is an unread message.

And such a nice dream it was.

I woke up feeling horrible, as a direct consequence of that dream. It involved a member of the fairer sex and I guess everyone and their uncle could probably guess what that dream was about.

Sad. So sad.

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Categories: the printed page, thoughts
  1. aart hilal
    Apr 10, 2007 at 07:08

    hello, don`t be so sad! please!

    The Zahir is a great book! I love it so much!
    Do you know that Paulo is launching his new book, The Witch of Portobello, through his blog
    http://www.paulocoelhoblog.com?
    I found it out because i’m inscibed to his newsletter http://www.warriorofthelight.com/engl/index.html
    it’s simply wonderful!
    have a nice day!

  2. azzief
    Apr 10, 2007 at 11:21

    heh, I’m actually not sad. the “so sad” part at the end was more about feeling pathetic.

    regardless, thanks for the info. much appreciated.

    it really is a lovely book isn’t it?

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