Little things.

I'm reading a book right now by Kazuo Ishiguro called Never Let Me Go. I definitely would not suggest this book to people who are not into downbeat, slow-moving artistic literature. As I am not one of those people, I think it is pretty fabulous so far. My favorite aspect of the book is how the author presents everything so subtlety. There was one point in the story yesterday, though, where I felt a strong tug at my heart while reading.

The incident was presented simply enough: the main character, Kathy, caught her best friend, Ruth, in a lie and was looking for the most ideal way to expose her. Then, when the time comes for the confrontation, her best friend's response startled me a bit. Ruth closed up, on the verge of tears.

Being tied so well to Kathy, our responses were similar: surprise. I took a moment to think about why I felt so taken aback by the situation. It came to me: I often behave like the Kathy, seeking justice above reconciliation. Here is the narrator's revelation:

"All this effort, all this planning, just to upset my dearest friend. (60)"

It seems so simple, but I am Kathy. I, on occasion, carefully plan and gather evidence, just to lay a trap with no intent but to hurt someone dear to me. Such a simple statement threw an incredible revelation in my own face. I front my behavior with words like "justice," but in reality, it's simply depravity. The only thing I hope to get out of exposing others lies or poor behavior is vengeance.

Then, what happens when my trap succeeds to catch its prey? I feel terrible, realizing the prey's companionship is far more important to me than filling some humanistic void in my heart.

It's ugly, isn't it? When I put it out there like that, my heart doesn't look so clean. But that's what I learn from. This is also the reason I'm an English major. I live for these tiny moments in literature that provide insights into my own heart.