This chapter is another very short one, so there’s not a lot to say. Again, because the action is completely from inside Andrei’s head, it develops an ambiguity that feels very human.
When Andrei feels like crying hearing Natasha singing, he feels it’s because of realising the gap between something “illimitable” and humanity’s own limited self.
It could also be that the music moved him.
Not to mention that he’s madly in love with Natasha as well.
All of these things play around in his head, all happening at once. But the interesting thing is that the book’s most pessimistic character is having a turn around. We’re seeing a new Andrei emerge . . .
Which is what’s so amazing about this book. The only thing comparable with a story running this long is a TV series, and in TV series, characters usually stay the same, rather than really change. But here’s Andrei, completely reinventing himself. Fascinating stuff.
And that’s probably it from me . . . until tomorrow.