History of Love

A few months back, my big bro and I were having one of our chat sessions. We got around to talking about the books that we were currently reading. He just put down Nicole Krauss' History of Love and he was telling me that he was blown away by it. I couldn't wait to get my hands on it.

And so, after turning the last page of Isabel Allende's Daughter of Fortune, I flipped the first page of History... and so began my journey.

It was humourous, happy and sad all at the same time. I felt vulnerable yet secure while I was reading it. Krauss wrote seamlessly as she took you into Leo's world while making you realize your place in your own.

History also reminded me of the people around me, and their place in my book.

Like this one:

From then on, I was terrified that I or one of my parents were going to die. My mother worried me the most. She was the force around which our world turned. Unlike our father, who spent his life in the clouds, my mother propelled through the universe by the brute force of reason. She was the judge in all of our arguments. One disapproving word from her was enough to send us off to hide in a corner, where we would cry and fantasize our own martyrdom. And yet. One kiss would restore us to princedom. Without her, our lives would dissolve into chaos.

Enough said. I'm about to cry.