December 2010: I don't know what it is about this book. Frankly, it's a little weird that I love it so much. I'm not British. I'm not a Butler. I've never even known a Butler. I'm also young and highly emotional and have no interest in spending my life waiting on other people. Mr. Stevens is none of those things. Maybe that's why it's so sad? I mean, my God. What a waste.
December 2008: I think the reason this book affects me so much is that I have a deep seated and possibly irrational fear that someday I will be exactly like Mr. Stevens, not the part where he's an old English butler, but the part where he's alone and is only just coming to understand why. So when I read about how much he fucked up his life by playing it safe and doing "the right thing" all the time, part of me is screaming DON'T FUCK UP and the other part is crying hysterically because I totally understand why he did it. Pretty much I think we're both idiots.