The Book of Disquiet

Soares tries to reconcile his experiences of love, life, and art with his indistinct identity. For him, writing is a way of organizing his life and forgetting reality. Literature can be a way of recreating dreams, too.

Soares feels frustrated that his writing may never be read by anyone. His anonymity might not matter, but he’s overcome by the tedium of his life. No matter where he goes or what he reads, nothing moves him. He takes a walk and studies the river but feels just as restless. He decides that the only true landscape for exploration is inside himself. He considers living in a more extreme manner—seeking every stimulation—but the life of his mind feels richest.

Some days Soares feels stagnant. Even his thoughts don’t stimulate him. He tries not to feel upset by this. He is often sad but doesn’t think he’s pessimistic.

Soares decides he has no interest in being understood by others. It would concern him, for example, if people at work thought he was normal.

Soares muses on how his life would differ if he were wealthy. He would miss working and would feel less compelled to write.

Soares spends the day studying his surroundings. Everything feels false to him. The only way to escape this feeling is through dreaming. The only way to experience something new is to create fictions. He is oppressed by his own feelings and overwhelmed by the meaninglessness of existence. Even travel can’t alleviate these sensations.

Soares doesn’t write for several months. Without writing, he feels like he doesn’t exist. He considers dying by suicide but this “seems a dubious remedy” (124). He tries returning to his writing to feel better.

It rains for several days. Soares’s depression intensifies. He dreams to escape. He is glad he can escape to different landscapes in his mind. Finally, the rain abates and the sky clears. He takes a walk and watches people enter a church. He recalls attending Mass as a child. He muses on the past.

Soares reads the paper and thinks about human ambition. The only way to feel accomplished is to invent metaphysical philosophies. Humans strive for perfection, which is impossible to achieve. Soares thinks the human experience is no different than the animal experience. Humans are trapped by the same things as animals.

Soares looks outside and studies the moonlit streets. He wonders how to describe the scene. He feels frustrated with his writing, unsure why he can’t write more effectively. When writing, he often feels unsure of who he is or what to say. He feels caught in his own contradictions. His dreams feel both absurd and vital.

Soares wants to create new worlds and politics with his writing. He feels frustrated by current events and talk of revolution. Revolution and change feel impossible to him. He disdains notions of social responsibility and believes inactivity is the only thing of substance in life. He saw a workers’ demonstration and despised everyone involved because their attempts at action seemed pitiful.

Soares is again overcome by the monotony and futility of life. He feels enslaved by cultural expectations. He studies his surroundings; every sensory aspect goes into him and informs who he is.

Soares reviews everything he’s written and finds it useless. He wishes he could make something better of his dreams.

The rain stops, and Soares feels uplifted. He knows he exists. He walks through the streets and considers buying bananas, but the idea feels fraudulent. He decides life is a monotonous loop no one can escape. This monotony could be freeing because surprising events seem more precious.

Soares resorts to dreaming and writing. His dreams feel natural and relieve him of his angst. However, after a sleepless night, Soares is moody and despairing. The world oppresses him again.

Soares invents metaphysical theories to escape his despair. Everything else in life feels like death. He wonders if life is nothing but death. After all, human experience is only an illusion.

After a good day of writing, Soares feels glad to be an artist. If he were financially stable, he doubts he’d be able to write.

In the evening, Soares takes a walk. He studies the streets and feels overwhelmed with sadness. He’s been writing, but still hasn’t finished his book. Even his dreams are tiring.

On a sunny day, Soares returns to work. The office feels claustrophobic and he’s annoyed by his coworkers and boss. Over the days following, the weather starts to change. Autumn looms. Soares feels cold and irritable, unsure if it’s the weather or his sadness. He guesses this is his fate. He keeps retreating to dreams even when they feel meaningless. One day, he leaves the office early and experiences a new sensation. Any change in routine can have this effect. Walking home, he feels freer than he has in some time.

Soares spends a rainy afternoon writing. He wonders if anyone will read his work. Over the days following, the heat returns and storms hang over the city. He continues writing and feels like a character in his book.

Soares meditates on the confusion of human emotion. He tries to make sense of how time and the past relate to his soul.

One day, he visits the beach. He studies his surroundings and listens to the ocean. He feels comfortable in his solitude.

On a foggy morning, Soares studies the city as it wakes. He appreciates what he sees but feels damned. Meanwhile, summer shifts into fall. Cool winds move into the city. Soares muses on the passage of time. He feels restless, overcome by everything he hasn’t accomplished. Another day, the clouds are thick over the city. He studies the clouds and questions who he is and what he has done with his life. Anything he’s considered true has only been a dream.

Soares muses on morality and his relationships with others. He is always studying the world but feels outside of it. This state of being makes him happy. He doesn’t like spending time with others because he loses the ability to make his own choices.

Soares digs through his desk and finds things he’s written over the years. He is surprised to find that some of the papers resemble the papers he’s written more recently. He is unsure who he is as a writer. He rereads what he’s written and tries to decide what it means and what he’s trying to convey to his reader.

Soares studies the sunset and meditates on his identity. While walking, he feels his soul walking with him. He drifts into dreams while studying the city. Over the next days, he continues watching the clouds, the light, and the rain through his window. He is overwhelmed by inescapable feelings.