Jack London’s Martin Eden

What a book. I don’t know what to say about it at all, really. I lived a second life while I was reading it, and now that it’s over, I feel complexly empty. Through this passive “journey”, I reevaluated my own life quite a bit and also was able to relate to some beautiful and cheering parts of the book, which was a wonderful feeling. I had not known that someone could put those feelings into words so adequately, as London had done (no rhyming intended). There were also many, many parts where I discovered conflicts and ideas that were completely new to me, and seeing how unfamiliar thought processes were elaborated upon was fascinating. In fact, they were so fascinating and new to me that even after reading it, not sure if I agree or disagree. I just know that that at this moment, I’m content with knowing that it exists. It’s been a long time since I’ve read such an affecting book that I cannot even properly describe my feelings toward it.