La Peste

Yesterday I decided to read, or re-read is a better word, Albert Camus’s “La Peste”, only to discover today that yesterday was the 50th anniversary of his death: A very sweet coincidence but also one that makes you think about a man who doesn’t know that 50 years after his death someone like me in year 2010 and someone else probably in year 2089 would be interested to know what that man in 194- wrote. The funny about it is that I am supposed to have read this book in intermediary or secondary school, but I was at the time more interested in fitting in a class of wackos and looking cool and funny in their eyes (the strange thing about it is that I turned into just the opposite of that person that people could just hate me by looking at me and my nonchalance towards them or what they think). Now that I regret that, not so much actually because I believe that every period of my life had made me what I am now (and I am not so modest), so now that I have to make up for the “lost” moments and now that I have realized the billions of pages that I must and want to read and which I could have minimized to millions only had I been more interested back then, I am re-reading the damn “La Peste” but that is totally okay because there are books worth re-reading anyway only if the list before my eye is a bit shorter or my life some hundred years longer.