and read and comment this post, just say something no word count requirement. The Sorrow Proper written by Lindsey Drager is an unusual one that discusses a metaphysical question about the essence of existence. The fiction is ethereal and fascinating and it inspires readers to rethink about existence and extinction, losing and acquiring, growing and decay.
The fiction tells a story about a group of female librarians who felt overwhelm about the decay of printing. They got together and have drinks and chatting regularly after work. And one of the librarians witness an accident in which a girl’s life was taken. It has nothing to do with her directly but she felt like losing something. Another story happened in this library is about the couple without proper name but impressed readers by their special occupations. A deaf female mathematician and a male photographer met each other here and started a relationship. But their relationship ends with a slippage of time. Actually they are both alive, in different universes, mourning for each other. The book enacts the fragility of existence by telling tragedy or tragedy in appearance. By the characters, the author wants to tell a truth that we have to continue our life by suspending our disbelief. Drager has the mathematician to convey a related notion. It claims that we all know the end of our life is death, but we live on and move on without hesitation to reach the end. That is the way we confront death. In another word, we are pursuing a result by striving in the opposite way. Maybe the theory is a little abstruse to understand. For the librarians, for the mathematician, and for everyone, existence is insanity.
As human, we are tiny in front of time. We born, we grow, we live, we grow old and we end up with death. We cannot fight against the time, it is eternal. But nothing on the earth that human experience is eternal. All we have, is the memory. And what is worse, actually, we have to forget most of our experience to move on, we have to forget misfortune, grief, anger, and most of the indifferent things once exist in our life. The only things remained, is the memory we cherish, but it usually can not be shared with other people