this is a snapshot-like story told by a 22-year-old Miloš who works at the train station and is contemplating his burdensome virginity and the purpose of his life after unsuccessful suicide attempt. 

coming into this book, i expected to hear a funny story and some people-watching on the trains. Hrabal certainly adds a dash of humour into this account, but the story is much more than “watching trains”. set in 1945 when the German forces were losing their grip on modern-day Czechia, it illuminates the horrors and losses of war, its ubiquitous consequences (e.g., seen in several animal cruelty snapshots), the rebellious spirit and the unexpected finding of purpose. the book also touches on the topics of sexual liberation as a between-generational clash (tho, in all fairness, what’s up with putting stamps on one’s bottom??), the importance of letting your emotions out (tho, probably shouldn’t shout your anguish into the ventilation tubes like the station master), and the complexities of empathy and pity for enemies.

the writing style may have lost its appeal and coherence through translation, but it still allowed for immersing yourself into Miloš’ view. (in my experience with reading Kundera, his works read better in Ukrainian translation than in English, so maybe there’s something to it…) at times it was hard to follow the narrative, as our protagonist alternates between observing different people, reflecting on the past, and wondering about his pressing concerns (his ejaculatio praecox). nonetheless, i would re-read this and may watch the movie adaptation.

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favourite little details:

bottom-line: worth a read in one sitting if you are interested in Czechia, WW2, and, oki, a little bit of trains. i might read Hrabal’s other works, like “too loud a solitude”…

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3.75 but so close to 4… i guess i still wanted more trains.