The enemy within

Just started reading Dear Mr. Kawabata by Rashid Al-Daif, a Lebanese author. The very interesting premise of the book, per the book-flap, led me to get it from the library and the few pages so far have been very good. You can read more about the premise at the review of the book here, which says:

Dear Mr Kawabata is an exercise in memory, in preserving and relating and passing on specific experiences and realisations and ideas -- and, of course, about the impossibility of doing so.

And here are a couple of excerpts from the first two pages.. that I loved!

For a moment I thought that I was seeing myself walking along the opposite pavement just a few meters away. The moment, however, seemed to become longer, increasing not just my surprise but also my feeling of emptiness. ...

and later...

I say 'met him' and 'the above-mentioned person' , Mr. Kawabata, rather than naming him explicitly, because among us, people do not mention the names of their enemies when speaking about them. Instead, we allude to them with an adjective, pronoun, circumlocution, gesture, or silence.

What a beautiful exposition of an existential disconnect that many of us suffer but do not necessarily recognize in our lives. I am looking forward to getting an hour or two to read more of this book. Reading couple pages at a time does such a wonderful book no justice.