There are some books which take time to grow on you. Some books will never hold you long enough to be able to impact you unless you are, well, their 'type'. Nausea by Jean-Paul Sartre is one such book. I, fortunately or unfortunately, am of the type. I remember finding in a moment of serendipity, Thus Spoke Zarathustra by Nietzsche one night in the shared rented house, left by the landlord gathering dust in a shelf, and staying up till the dawn reading it. I found myself a changed man after reading that. I read Dostoevsky's Notes from the Underground much later and the philosophy lingered for a very long time. Those were the books from the aftermath of which my modest intellect could barely survive. A philosophical Novel, which is more of a study in existential philosophy than a Novel with a story-line, places Sartre in the list of greatest existentialist writers in the history. It is a matter of sheer coincidence that I read Nausea and The Fall by Albert Camus...
I am a Worshiper of Words. I ponder, I think, I write, therefore, I exist. A Blog on Literature, Philosophy and Parenting