Sans Internet Writing in 2015

I felt chills. I felt chills and I still feel them. When did I last feel like this from a work of fiction? When did I last feel like this from anything? What possessed me to give up reading?
I high lit two sections from the end of I Am a Cat. I will now type out both in their entirety.
If one tapped the deep bottom of the hearts of these seemingly lighthearted people, it would give a somewhat sad sound. Though Singleman behaves as though enlightenment had made him a familiar of the skies, his feet still shuffle, earthbound, through this world. The world of Waverhouse, though it may be easy-going, is not the dreamworld of those painted landscapes which he loves. That winsome donzel Coldmoon, having at last stopped polishing his little gloves of glass, has fetched from his far home province a bride to cheer his days. Which is pleasant and quit normal, but the sad fact is that long-continued pleasant normality becomes a bore. Beauchamp too, however golden-hearted he is now, will have come in ten years’ time to realize the follow of giving away for nothing those new-style poems that are the essence of his heart. As for Sampei, I find it difficult to judge whether he’ll finish up on top of the pile or down the drain, but I’d like to think he’ll manage to live his life out proud and happy in the ability to souse his acquaintance in champagne. Suzuki will remain the same eternal groveling creeper. Grovelers get covered in mud, but, even so be-sharned, he’ll manage better than those who cannot creep at all.
Gradually I begin to feel at ease. I can no longer tell whether I’m suffering or feeling grateful. It isn’t even clear whether I’m drowning in water or lolling in some comfy room. And it really doesn’t matter. It does not matter where I am or what I’m doing. I simply feel increasingly at ease. No, I can’t actually say that I feel at ease, either. I feel that I’ve cut away the sun and moon, they pull at me no longer; I’ve pulverized both Heaven and Earth, and I’m drifting off and away into some unknown endlessness of peace. I am dying, Egypt, dying. Through death I’m drifting slowly into peace. Only by dying can this divine quiescence be attained. May one rest in peace! I am thankful, I am thankful. Thankful, thankful, thankful.
They’re only a few pages apart, but I hadn’t quite seen the end coming. I had thought a few times, in the course of the last passages, that this seemed like a beautiful and perfect ending for the book. However, I had read in the preface (the bastards) that the book ended with the death of the cat who, in a drunken stupor, falls into some water and drowns. I hadn’t expected it. I think that one thing that added to the overall effect is that I somehow disabled the page counter in Kindle. I couldn’t see the ending coming. Think about that for a moment, though. I had no idea where I was in the book. You can’t really do that in a physical one. You always know that the hero is safe 30% of the way in. But when you don’t see it coming, the effect is breathtaking.
I love this. I love this feeling. I literally cannot remember the last time I was so taken by a work. I’ve read entertaining books recently, the Conrad Starguard series was hard to put down, but something like this? It’s otherworldly. I’ve already bought another Soseki book. Let’s see what happens.
8/20/2015