Milan Kundera is nothing short of amazing - in this book anyway - i've read other stories, such as Identity, where this amazingness is perhaps questionable. The most attractive thing about Unbearable Lightness of Being is the exploration of Nietzschean writing and philosophy. The author takes time out to discuss Nietzsche (sometimes from characters' perspectives, sometimes the narrator's) which feels like something one shouldn't be able to do but which is great. It carries the danger of making the story inaccessible, or too diffracted (think Sartre's Nausea) but I am confident that he does it well. As well as the Nietzschean excursions, Kundera also likes literary excursions, discussing the plot of Anna Karenina and the meaning of coincidence in literature and hence life. Particularly emotive, is the image of Tereza, the unappreciated wife, carrying Anna Karenina under her arm, almost like a security blanket as she embarks on an out of character affair. She is afraid, and clings to the book, thinking that since this guy has it on his shelf, it must be okay. It really is quite sad... which brings me to what I think I don't like about Kundera, although I can't say I'm sure.
It feels like this book is trying to challenge the reader's sense of goodwill. Like - there's nothing philosophically wrong about infidelity, if people are badly affected by it that's their own problem. The book is trying to promote this "lightness" where we don't have to carry the burdens of action, the heaviness of others' emotions and our own regrets - and I just don't buy it. It feels all too much like an excuse for being an apathetic person. Similar criticisms exist about The Outsider, I guess, however although society's values are challenged there, the human experiences is not. In discussing this with my friends, I think I usually lose the argument - and that what Kundera purports may indeed be the truth of the matter. Some sympathy is shown for Tereza, having to deal with her husband's hair constantly smelling like vaginal juices (this is the part of the book the friend who gave it to me kept asking if I was up to), however the sympathy seems contrived and inauthentic. I was probably reading this at a bad time as well, when these issues would have been particularly annoying to deal with.
To the discussion of coincidence, which I did love: the story of Anna Karenina is summarised through its beginning and end, namely the recurring theme of the train. Kundera here, gets in touch with our sense of sentiment and our desire to see things symbolically. We can attribute importance to coincidences, symbols etc., not from any suggestion of a higher being (God wanted me to see this... etc.), but rather, since it's there, it plays a role in our psyche. I might meet a girl who I fall in love with on the train, and she may not have talked to me if I'd not been reading Kafka - so I project meaning onto Kafka, onto books, and the love is in turn tied to a sense that Kafka is special. There's no transcendental meaning it, but some secret promise is shared between hearts - something like that.
So yes, Kundera, good, but I'm not sure I like him. There's definitely something post-modern about him, and perhaps I prefer something where meaning is still important.
