White Nights
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
White Nights has ignited a strong desire to learn Russian, if only to experience the story in its raw, unfiltered beauty. The translation is surprisingly modern, which only deepens my yearning to understand the language. The book brims with lines worth quoting, though they don’t haunt you. It’s more about the way they strike in the moment. The existential crisis vibe is so palpable, it made me pause and reflect on life more than I’d care to admit. The tone also feels reminiscent of J.D. Salinger's The Catcher in the Rye , except the characters here are more critical thinkers than Holden and take life more seriously.
Now now, the protagonist? Total delulu. Honestly, I felt kinda bad for him. Like, I had to cover my mouth because his pain was just... embarrassingly intense. He got friend-zoned hard, it was almost painful to read. Yet, despite that, his thoughts were profoundly introspective, like a seasoned loner lost in a cycle of overanalyzing. It made me feel bad about rejecting that one guy who was all in for me. Kinda put things in perspective.
Now, her.
Girl cries a lot. It’s practically on every other page. And she blushes, oh she blushes rose, crimson, pink, red, just as he describes; which honestly, I can’t judge, because I turn into a “tomato” myself. She’s delusional as well (her words, not mine), but I refuse to believe she’s 17. If she’s this lonely, then what does that make me? lol
To sum her up in Taylor Swift terms: “It’s like I’m 17 and nobody understands.” And him? “Excellent fun ’til you get to know her.” That pretty much sums them up. I don’t totally relate, but I do a little, especially with my fictional crushes, those hard-to-choose situations.
And to wrap it up:
Dostoevsky, who hurt you bro?
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