Not my affair. Graham Greene´s affair. Or his book called “The End of the Affair”.
I´ve picked it up for the same reason I pick every book: out of an unconscious certainty that I have to read it. As it happens with every other area of my life, I do it out of passion. No questioning is required.
As I finished reading it, I felt like I had been hit with a giant hammer.
– What the hell happened? – I asked, slipping through the last page. I meant what happened in the story and inside of me. Isn´t it wonder*ful when a book, a piece of art or a person, moves you, redesigning your brain, heart, even your core values?
It´s a rare, precious thing: a book, having such an effect on you, one that shakes you, physically, to the core.
Which leaves me with 3 interesting questions:
How did Graham Greene come up with such an incredible, yet credible, story? No imagination could have produced it. I smell reality.
From where did he take those spot on* phrases? (student mode is on)
Is the book amoral, imoral or just human?
Needless to say: I´m in love (with the book). And I´m a little,
really just a tiny bit, terrified of love. Some stories books have this effect on me.