I would say magic in motion, except there’s no motion in reading, other than your eyes that is. Reading I am the Messenger was like a world coming to life.
I rarely praise literary works, being a harsh critic, but the read was touching as it was inspiring. As most philosophers know, a sign is made of two parts. The signified and the signifier, that is to say the symbol and the symbolised.
There is no exception to this rule. In this method, words on a page are nothing but more meaningless scribbles. Without a ‘symbolised’ value attached to the symbol, any instance of language is meaningless.
That is to say, that a messenger is more than just a deliver. He is the message itself— and I am the Messenger does exactly that.
“Ed Kennedy is an underage cabdriver without much of a future. He’s pathetic at playing cards, hopelessly in love with his best friend, Audrey, and utterly devoted to his coffee-drinking dog, the Doorman. His life is one of peaceful routine and incompetence until he inadvertently stops a bank robbery.”
From modest beginnings, Ed Kennedy is called to a greater purpose, and how can he signify something great without becoming greater himself?
I am the Messenger is much a journey for the read as it is for the protagonist. It is an exploration of society as we know it. The beauty and the love and devotion that is both before us and hidden from sight.
Superbly written and emotive. An easy read that proved to be so much more.