Stoner

This is a book that perhaps, if time allows, one might as well go through the context again for multiple times.

It was written in a morose tone, and it was about nothing exquisite, heroic, or you might call it a book of the defeated, who are unable to summon the right life-a friendship with great depth and proximity, a marriage of mutual respect, not founded on love, as Stoner stumbled his way towards the end-where cancer paved the path and death awaited before him.

It was a life of no significance, as brought up at the very first of the book. Stoner was no much of a hero, his presence meant little to the field he was deeply rooted and found a profound love for. To his daughter and wife, he was just a man who supported their living and lived in their household. To Lomax, he was a target for his utter of hatred, as his stubbornness prohibited them to get along well due to a talented student.

Academically, the book serves a purpose for all literature lovers as it connected the contexts of different proses, works, arts written by famous writers like Shakespeare, Shelley, etc. Despite that facet of the book it reigned, to me, the emphasis was more about the life Stoner led himself into-for sure he couldn't lead all of it. The melancholy he experienced each time was heartfelt, as the words brought me along with him. And how it was to be, after all, numb by all the events one had gone through in his life. It was to no uncertainty that I found myself resonating with every single word used to describe Stoner's internal feelings without difficulty. It was so smooth, so realistic, so beautifully written.

And I believe as well, that we might all find little parts of ourselves in the book, whenever we felt aloof, distracted by people, or due to that long-bore loneliness that we carried within ourselves since the date we met the earth. It was with great pleasure I had found in reading the piece of work, despite its contextual remorse.

If you can, don't just give it a read, but serveral.