it's my second time reading stream-of-consciousness novels. the first time happened when i was in college.this type of novels make me feel like i am the narrator and i am always following the development of the plots, which is amazing. when i heard the name of the book, Call Me By Your Name, we were gonna read this month, i was really excited. not just because it's a romantic and lovely name but i was told it's a good book that will literally makes you shed tears.
the narrator, Eliot, is a sentimental boy who secretly loves another boy, Oliver. yeah surely not a promising relationship here we're talking about. i'm ok with the book about the homosexuals. i mean it's legal in some states in the US today and my favorite celerity Ellen DeGeneres, she is a lesbian too and she's made a great difference during her whole life. but somehow i feel weird when i was reading some description of Eliot's inner world like " I could have denied so many things—that I longed to touch his knees and wrists when they glistened in the sun with that viscous sheen I’ve seen in so very few; that I loved how his white tennis shorts seemed perpetually stained by the color of clay, which, as the weeks wore on, became the color of his skin; that his hair, turning blonder every day, caught the sun before the sun was completely out in the morning; that his billowy blue shirt, becoming ever more billowy when he wore it on gusty days on the patio by the pool, promised to harbor a scent of skin and sweat that made me hard just thinking of it. All this I could have denied. And believed my denials."
the citation above is just a tip of the iceberg, there are pounds that are unacceptable for me even though those thoughts come from a girl.so im not not sure whether i will still continue my reading or not. but i will still try to appreciate it from the perspective of language.
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