Ode to the Bohemians.
Among the masses of words proliferating the market of the electronic world, sometimes, rarely, there comes a tale that makes one forget about the mundane reality and sweeps one along into a different time and space.
Kurt Vonnegut is reported to have said that a novel ought to take the reader to his destination by the shortest route as quickly as possible.
This is not such a novel. It is a yarn spoken at leisure, rather like a cork bobbing on the surface of an ocean of existentialism. Carefree, contented, until something within us turns the lustrous surface into turbulent waters. Then, a monster emerges from the deeps to take rein over the surface, only to return to his dark domain. A strange, almost an impersonal journey.
Yet, it is not really the destination that matters, but the trip itself. One is tempted to visit the many places, which the author visited, looking for his memories scattered throughout the world. It is peppered with phrases such as “less is more”, overtones of Mies van der Rohe, with the brushstrokes of Picasso, Gaudi and Kandinsky, and with philosophies that must be read at the author’s pace. I shall therefore, leave you to do so. It seems that only becoming a true Bohemian offers permanent happiness. Find out for yourself. Become engrossed in the novel, even as I was. You’ll enjoy it. Also, even as I did. You won’t regret it.
And don’t forget the love triangles or even more complex geometric figures; and finally, the Big Bang. But those you’ll have to discover for yourself. Enjoy the trip!”