The Idiot

It is interesting when something keeps resurfacing in one's life—a name, number, car, song, color, etc.—and, i have found that it behooves the individual to follow where that reoccurrence leads. Try and understand why it is that the event keeps coming back, or at least, be willing to see where it leads. i admit that in most cases the object in question is probably not some obscure reference, but in my case it could not have been further from what happened because for me the reoccuring object was Fyodor Dostoevsky's the Idiot. the times that it has popped up in my life might seem disjointed and of no significance, but i am firmly in the camp that believes such "coincidences" should not be ignored and shrugged off.

The first time i encountered the Idiot was, albeit briefly, in the Roman Polanski's "The Pianist" when the family is sitting with all the other Jewish families waiting to be taken away. I think that it was the character of Henryk that was reading it. (i actually didn't catch this time until after some of the subsequent ones.)

The next time was when my co-worker bought a copy of the book from our local Borders that was closing. He commented that the book as one of his favorite ones and that he had been quite happy to find a copy. This occurrence really brought the existence of the book to the fore of my mind. i was at least aware of it now, whereas before i was more formally aware of only two of Dostoevsky's books: Crime and Punishment, and The Brothers Karamazov.

When watching the moive "The Machinist" Trevor Reznik (Christian Bale) is reading the Idiot whilst sitting on a couch. it was, like the previous movie occurrence, subtle and my conscious mind didn't pick up on it until a few scenes later. Now, however, i was more atuned to its existence and really thought consciously about the fact that it was showing up more and more.

As i was out at the mall, i thought i'd stop in barnes & noble and take a look around, though, of course, all the time thinking i might just go buy a copy. as i rounded a corner and looked at the "b&n classics" display there, right in my center of vision was a copy of the Idiot. i told myself that i should get it, and finally see what it is about.

So, no regrets on pursuing my literary spot-lit path, although perhaps a partial apology for a mundane short story about the re-occurrences of a book in the life of an unknown philosophical barista living in the country. the book is currently not disappointing and should prove to be very enlightening. i can only hope to figure out why the Idiot kept resurfacing.