Just finished the book literally five minutes ago. And now I feel quite empty. I don't know if this is a standard way to feel after reading a good book, but it's pretty typical for me. One of my friends recommended I read this book, but she said something along the lines of, "Yeah, that's a really good book, I enjoyed it." I took that to mean it was mildly... I don't know what word I'm looking for exactly...modern? Or...maybe cheerful. Well, it's not. It's deep, and left me feeling incredibly sad, but not sad. Empty and full. It's a book of delightfully heart-rending contradictions. Another great from Elie Wiesel. And, like all of his other books, I feel like I need to read it about twelve times before I grasp how significant it really is. Not for everyone, though.

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