Two small halves of courage making a brave whole

I’m reading Bel Canto by Ann Patchett, and I’m mostly enjoying it, but it’s taking me a while to get through it. I’m not sure why, exactly, but something about it is slow. I’ll read and think, “I just got through a lot!” but I will look at the page numbers and realize I only read three or four. The story is interesting, and it’s not hard to immerse myself in the world of the book, but when I put the book down it’s not that easy to pick it back up again. I’m about 2/3 of the way through, so I can’t decide yet if I recommend it or not. Like I said, the story is interesting, and I love some of the characters (and the ones I don’t love are still interesting), but there’s just something about it that hasn’t grabbed me.

There was one bit, though, that I loved and wanted to share:

“Never in a lifetime would Gen [the translator] have come to her [the opera singer] on his own. Never would he find the courage to express his own sympathies and remorse, in the same way that Mr. Hosokawa [Gen’s boss] would not have the courage to speak to her even if his English had been perfect. But together they moved through the world quite easily, two small halves of courage making a brave whole.”

That last sentence is my favorite part. I read it to Mike last night, because I have seen us work together like that, and it’s a beautiful thing.

No Trackbacks

One Comment