La Vita Nuova an unusual book: written in alternating prose and poetry, it is part ode, part autobiography, part literary analysis, part metaphysical La Vita Nuova an unusual book: written in alternating prose and poetry, it is part ode, part autobiography, part literary analysis, part metaphysical exploration. It is historically important as it provides much of the background to Dante’s life, especially his relationship with his distant love and muse, Beatrice.
My attempt to brush up on my Italian with this dual-language edition of the book was a bit of a failure. While the language has remained incredibly static over the past 700 years, Dante’s Italian is different enough to be a challenge to my moderate abilities. Additionally, his prose style is quite complex, employing long sentences with cascading dependent clauses, and his poetry takes many freedoms with the language, such as inversion of word order and a lot of elided letters, all of which make it difficult to follow.
I would, however, still recommend this dual-language edition to anyone reading La Vita Nuova, even if they have no understanding of Italian. The poems must be read in Italian, even if one relies on the English translations for the meaning. Italian is a language that is made for poetry. Of course the gendering and inflection allow rhymes to flow much more easily than in English, but simply the sound, the cadence of Dante’s metre (which I always naturally read with a lowering of pitch on the final syllable), takes on this wonderful, lugubrious tone, which you just can’t get in English....more
I’m sure this high rating probably reflects poorly on me, but I don’t care. I enjoyed the hell out of this smutty little book. Perhaps it’s only modesI’m sure this high rating probably reflects poorly on me, but I don’t care. I enjoyed the hell out of this smutty little book. Perhaps it’s only modesty and some form of self-conscious restraint that prevent me from awarding it the final star. The structure and dialogue reminded me of Richard Linklater’s Beyond Sunrise. Both have this awkward, yet somehow too-perfectly scripted flow, but nevertheless possess an endearing, unashamed honesty, which, despite the unrealistic nature of the fantasy, manages to capture something essentially sweet and human – in this case the simple need to talk, and to make an honest personal connection. Both Linklater and Baker wonderfully capture those anxious, beautiful moments of connecting profoundly and unexpectedly with someone for the first time. Maybe I’m just a softie, but this kind of thing just makes me effusively happy (Oh, and the sex stuff was pretty good too)....more
I am reminded of those modern art exhibits - the worst kind - those that seem to require almost no effort on the part of the artist– say, a giant, looI am reminded of those modern art exhibits - the worst kind - those that seem to require almost no effort on the part of the artist– say, a giant, loose pile of Bic pens, or a sculpture comprised of random household items suspended from coat-hangers – the kinds of works that make you reflexively think, “my toddler could have put this together”. Aside from the execution, the artistic merit of such works is also questionable, the conceit being either an overly obvious and trite metaphor, or so abstract as to be meaningless (critics of themystery.doc will be with me so far). And yet, sometimes such a loose and abstract work can draw together just the right combination of elements to trigger something in the mind of beholder - something of an entirely different character to the experience created by more linear forms of art. To grossly oversimplify what I'm getting at: there is art that is, i.e.: art that is inherently beautiful and masterful in its execution, and there is art that does, i.e: art that has little aesthetic value, but has the capacity to manifest something powerful and surprising in the mind of the beholder.
I place themystery.doc in the latter category. And so there is little point writing about what the novel is, because what it is, is not that impressive, per se. In terms of form, style, structure, plot and character, it is a mess. But personally, I enjoyed the wonderfully unique experience of reading the novel. I enjoyed the ambiguity, the randomness, the juxtaposed elements, the puzzle of the thing. Even the ostentatious use of 1650 printed pages, many of which are blank or filled with a single image, or gibberish - yet there is no denying that the experience of hurtling through this mass of pages at such speed, being inundated with loose images and fragments, being required as a reader to actually generate a narrative - this creates a valuable and unique sensation, and one that shares many parallels with the way we experience the world.
This is in no way a guarantee that your experience will be the same as mine (refer to the many other reviews for evidence). The novel is not really about the dozen or so little stories, snippets of which are woven throughout, nor is it about the brief scenes created by still images - rather it’s about the experience of the novel itself, the drawing together the sum total of its implications. But experiences are personal, and either the experience of themystery.doc will captivate you, or the novel won’t make a whole lot of sense. ...more
This novel is a powerful account of the emotional stresses of abandonment. I don’t think it’s fair to dismiss this simply as a novel about an unhingedThis novel is a powerful account of the emotional stresses of abandonment. I don’t think it’s fair to dismiss this simply as a novel about an unhinged woman. Though at times extreme, the essence of Olga’s experience is genuine, and speaks to the complex and absorbing nature of that emotional state. When I was young, I saw my mother go through something similar.
What Days of Abandonment captures so effectively is the extent to which an experience like this can collapse the tower of neatly stacked assumptions upon which one’s entire self-definition is predicated. Statements such as “my husband loves me, and is faithful” turn out to be fundamental and axiomatic, and when discovered to be untrue, can overturn broad, long-standing beliefs about meaning and self-worth, which take a long time to rebuild. The disruption can be overwhelming, and permeate even mundane aspects of daily life.
Underlying Olga’s experience is the framework of gender roles within society. Her experience, though universal, is almost exclusively female (by which I men face quite a different set of challenges). Implicit in her experience are the cultural expectations that limit her choices, for example with respect to her children, and her standing among friends and peers. But there is be both vulnerability and power inherent in her position.
While there are certainly points of imperfection in this novel, I was convinced by the intensity and honesty of Ferrante’s portrayal of Olga’s breakdown. The language and the narrative is confused and erratic, but intentionally so. I have not yet read Ferrante’s Neapolitan novels, but I look forward to reading them soon, and hope they can offer some of the same depth of understanding about emotional states, as she exhibits here. ...more
The ideas that The Dream of Heroes explores are more interesting than those of The Invention of Morel. What a pity most of it is bogged down with suchThe ideas that The Dream of Heroes explores are more interesting than those of The Invention of Morel. What a pity most of it is bogged down with such a loose, rambling, convoluted narrative. The level of unnecessary detail is tedious; I had almost entirely lost interest by the end. However the final dozen pages are inspired and manage to rescue the novel to some extent, but the ending itself is not enough to atone for its generally poor storytelling. There is an excellent novella hiding inside this unfortunately mediocre novel....more
I suppose I'm going to have to compare this to The Stranger. While Meursault's character was of course It looks like I'm in the minority on this one.
I suppose I'm going to have to compare this to The Stranger. While Meursault's character was of course a little unreal - exaggerated - it seemed to represent elements of something authentic, namely a profound and sympathetic apathy and isolation. Juan Pablo Castel (The Tunnel's narrator and protagonist), on the other hand, has very little that is human in him. And by that, I don't mean he's "inhuman" - unfeeling, psychopathic, or cold blooded - I mean that he is lacking identifiable human attributes. None of his motives seem sincere. None of his actions make sense. Of course, the mind of a deranged murderer may not appear normal or rational, but this goes beyond that. The characterisation of Castel was a simplistic, unsubtle caricature of a jealous and obsessive man. Neither he, nor anyone he interacts with ever behave like any actual human being would. I never felt like I was in the mind of an impassioned killer, but in an absurdist melodrama that lacked any connection to the real world.
Certainly there are elements that are effective - the way that Castel latches onto Maria's noticing of a detail in his painting - this is powerfully representative of a search to be understood, to connect, and it also demonstrates how obsession can build from a trivial thing, amplified to become the central feature of the obsession's target. But the rest of the novel does not follow from this insight.
Maybe the point here was to create something wholly absurd. Fine, The Tunnel works as a dark, absurdist piece. But I then I can't really take seriously what it appears to be saying in earnest, about obsession, and paranoia - these seem built upon an insecure foundation. I do understand that realism isn't the point here, but what seems to masquerade as "existentialism" seems to me mostly a poor representation of human motives and interactions....more
Compared to The Gospel According to Jesus Christ, Saramago is a lot more laid back here, a lot less subtle, like he's shooting fish in a barrel. But aCompared to The Gospel According to Jesus Christ, Saramago is a lot more laid back here, a lot less subtle, like he's shooting fish in a barrel. But as far as contradictions and inconsistencies go, The Old Testament (or as Saramago calls it, The Book of Nonsense) is pretty low-hanging fruit. Whether it's God's destruction of innocent children in Sodom and Gomorrah, while choosing to save only the "honourable" Lot (who had earlier offered his daughters' virginity to the mob, and who later sleeps with them both himself), or God's punking of Abraham by calling for the mock-sacrifice of his son - the stories of the old testament show God to be not exactly the paragon of maturity and virtue. Saramago's take-down in Cain does not teach us anything new, but his approach is original and incisive, and above all it is a lot of fun....more
For this novel I feel one could legitimately justify any rating between one and five stars. The writing is incredible, and the story built on complex,For this novel I feel one could legitimately justify any rating between one and five stars. The writing is incredible, and the story built on complex, interconnecting and layered metaphors and recurring themes. But the expression of these ideas can be challenging, and the conspiratorial subject matter becomes dense and difficult to parse.
For me personally, there was something about the cadence of the narrative voice that made it difficult for me to fall into a natural flow. I felt distracted, unable to really maintain focus and become involved. I felt disconnected from the characters, and struggled to sustain interest in the intricacies of the plot (though I managed not to lose the narrative thread, thanks to the novel's use of repetition). Maybe this is a personal fault - my experience reading Gravity's Rainbow was similar. File this one under "Appreciated more than enjoyed", or "It's not you, it's me"....more
A delightful wisp of a story - light, fantastical, romantic, powerful. There is an strange element of whimsy that invokes Garcia Marquez. The story isA delightful wisp of a story - light, fantastical, romantic, powerful. There is an strange element of whimsy that invokes Garcia Marquez. The story is ambiguous, full of loose ends to be pondered. It is a love story, but not in the way you might expect....more
This is no Darconville’s Cat, not even close. Whereas that novel was thematically rich, infused with a sense of profound, elemental mystery, An AdulteThis is no Darconville’s Cat, not even close. Whereas that novel was thematically rich, infused with a sense of profound, elemental mystery, An Adultery is relentlessly realistic, even mundane. And while Theroux’s language still sings, his subject prevents his words from delivering the same power.
What An Adultery does offer is a deep examination of a flawed relationship; a look at how love can shadow perception, and make fools of us all. In this way the novel’s message is deeply anti-romantic. Unfortunately, the blurb and cover give away the entire arc of the story from the outset, so there remains only a drudging sense of inevitability, and very little surprise in how the relationship eventually develops. There is not much beyond the prose itself to propel the reader through the pages.
Still, the language is brilliant, and the extraordinarily detailed emotional accounts are richly drawn and remarkably insightful. Though I wouldn't discourage you from picking this book up, I would recommend that you reach first for Darconville’s Cat....more
In The Funeral Party, Ulitskaya wonderfully captures the divided soul of the emigrant, who lives eternally in a state of transition, never able to conIn The Funeral Party, Ulitskaya wonderfully captures the divided soul of the emigrant, who lives eternally in a state of transition, never able to consolidate a singular identity. Emigrants are strange people. Having grown up among them, I've noticed a high incidence of eccentric, charismatic and strong-minded people. I'm not sure if this is cultural (perhaps Romanians are simply like that), or because fleeing one's home requires that a person be to some extent unhinged, or at least restless, lacking the contentedness to simply accept the life one has been given.
In this novel I felt a connection with Maika, who as a young person growing up in an emigrant family is affected in a different way, initially feeling alienated from her cultural heritage and those who represent it, but eventually coming to understand and derive a personal importance from it.
The novel explores these specific experiences in the context of more universal ones. The Funeral Party is about how our relationships with others come to define our lives, and how the finality of death lends these relationships a special richness and significance. It is a sad book, but also a hopeful one. There are things that survive beyond death: our children, the works we create, and our actions in life, as remembered by those we love....more
I'm sometimes skeptical of novels that centre around a murder - it can be an easy way to lend emotional power to a story, and can feel like a trick (hI'm sometimes skeptical of novels that centre around a murder - it can be an easy way to lend emotional power to a story, and can feel like a trick (how many people actually get murdered anyway, to justify so many books about murders). But So Long, See You Tomorrow is less about the murder than it is about examining the enduring and unforeseen consequences of our decisions - both in action and inaction - and how these can haunt us, and damage the lives of others in profound ways. Some such choices are seemingly insignificant: the way the narrator antagonises over a mundane action taken decades ago, imbuing it with weight and significance, is so typical of the way we misunderstand each other daily in our lives, and the way our memories can warp the past. Sometimes it's hard to discern what our choices are from amongst the consequences of the choices of others. Is loving someone a choice? Then what choices are left to those hurt by love?
The writing is polished and understated, with an honest tone, and you can tell the author is writing about a place with which he is deeply familiar - the minute details of the setting and its inhabitants paint a full and vivid picture of a childhood lost....more
As with Jackson’s We Have Always Lived in the Castle, The Haunting of Hill House is notable for its enchanting prose and subtle emotional characterisaAs with Jackson’s We Have Always Lived in the Castle, The Haunting of Hill House is notable for its enchanting prose and subtle emotional characterisation. I do enjoy her unique writing style, whose incongruity with the subject matter lends her novels a quality not often found in the genre. There is a childish playfulness, even innocence to the characters and their interactions, with occasional glimpses into a strange psychology. There are moments – what comes to my mind is a short passage in which Eleanor marvels at the way her “self” occupies her body – that seem to hint at a deeper disturbance, and knowing a little about Jackson’s own personal mental battles, it is difficult to know whether these are merely characterisations, or in fact manifestations of the author’s own habits of thought. Perhaps the fact that the two seem to complement each other so well helps to explain how this little novel with its relatively cheerful, upbeat mood manages to covey such a intangibly dark undertone....more
Post Office is an account of one man's struggle with regular employment. Henry Chinaski is a heavy drinker, gambler and philanderer. His actions are oPost Office is an account of one man's struggle with regular employment. Henry Chinaski is a heavy drinker, gambler and philanderer. His actions are often crass and immoral, and his behaviour gets quite sketchy at times, but despite all this, it's hard not to identify and sympathise with him. For the reader, there is a guilty sense of vicarious liberation that comes from living in his shoes. He acts reflexively according to his desires, with little concern for the long term. His voice is irreverent, offensive, funny, and very refreshing. But Post Office is not an entirely frivolous affair. Henry is in many ways a sad and lonely figure, and his story is filled with moments of deep melancholy. He has a heart. His story is outrageous, yet authentic. Coarse, yet deeply sensitive. What a ride. ...more
Antwerp is unexpectedly brilliant for such a short work: 78 pages, mostly half-filled. It is composed of 56 short fragments (each the length of a singAntwerp is unexpectedly brilliant for such a short work: 78 pages, mostly half-filled. It is composed of 56 short fragments (each the length of a single paragraph) of disjointed, surreal, prose-poetry, which tell a strange and complex story through the implied connections between these impressionistic images.
This was Bolaño's first novel, which he tinkered with for twenty years before publishing. It is almost like a key to his work, a framework for what would come later. It features Bolaño's obsession with sexual violence, but there is something much deeper here: a recurring questioning; a relentless search for meaning and purpose. The writing is darkly comedic, full of strange quips and asides, which seem to exist outside the universe of the novel. This is the genesis of Bolaño as a writer. It is deeply personal. Bolaño himself exists inside the novel, and the novel as much as it is about any one thing, is really about his being born and defined as a writer.
It's clear that not everyone would enjoy this this kind of thing, and I'm cautious about turning the wrong type of reader onto this novel, and so I present the below passage, which is "chapter" 2 in its entirety:
Twin highways flung across the evening, when everything seems to indicate that memory and finer feelings are kaput, like the rental car of a tourist who unknowingly ventures into war zones and never returns, at least not by car, a man who speeds down highways strung across a zone that his mind refuses to accept as a barrier, vanishing point (the transparent dragon), and in the news Sophie Podolski is kaput in Belgium, the girl from the Montfaucon Research Center (a smell unbefitting a woman), and the lips say "I see waiters, hired for the summer, walking along a deserted beach at eight o'clock at night" ... "Slow movements, real or unreal I don't know" ... "A sandswept group" ... "For an instant, a fat eleven-year-old girl lit up the public pool"..."So is Colan Yar after you too?" ... "The highway, a black-topped strip of prairie?" ... The man sits at one of the cafes in the hypothetical ghetto. He writes postcards because breathing prevents him from writing the poems he'd like to write. I mean: free poems, no extra tax. His eyes retain a vision of naked bodies coming slowly out of the sea. Then all that's left is emptiness. "Waiters walking along the beach" ... "The evening light dismantles our sense of the wind"...
If the above makes you furrow your brow and scratch your head in bewilderment, then you are probably right to give this one a miss. However if you are a fan of Bolaño and this kind of writing lights your brain on fire as it did mine, then do not skip over this lesser-known of his works....more
This was truly an exceptional series of novels. It’s not until the conclusion that you can really appreciate what has been put to paper. Much more thaThis was truly an exceptional series of novels. It’s not until the conclusion that you can really appreciate what has been put to paper. Much more than a simple story of two parallel lives, the Neapolitan novels present a depiction of life not in isolation, but as something deeply intertwined, with each interaction becoming at once cause and effect within a complex web, the pieces reacting almost chemically to produce repeating structures across generations. The interesting thing about this story is that it seems without beginning and without end; it merely operates within two chosen points on a continuum. As with life, these stories do not follow neat narrative arcs, and do not resolve even with death, which retains one's memory in life's connective tissue.
As in life, here no one is blameless. Everyone at times acts in ways that are naive, petty or self-interested. As in life, much remains mysterious and elusive. Throughout the novels certain characters remain opaque to each other, and even the hard-fought wisdom of experience cannot shine a light on all things. In these novels uniquely there is a further meta-mystery, that of the boundaries between fact and fiction, in the identity of the author and her place in the world she has described.
There are these universals, and there is also the specific – the story of Naples, of these wonderful characters, of the tension between this closed community and the opening up of the world in the second half of the last century. These many stories are are intertwined by Ferrante with unparalleled narrative skill. Though there are certainly some lesser moments one could point to, the consistency of this series is remarkable, especially for a work of 1700 pages - one which manages to be entirely compelling from start to finish.
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NB: I notice that this is my 300th review on Goodreads, and so I thought I’d write something in acknowledgment of that milestone. What started as a few little notes to myself has grown unexpectedly into something much larger. According to the library export function, I’ve written just under 75,000 words in my reviews so far – that’s a decent sized novel, and a number of which I am both proud and slightly horrified. But though I shrink at the thought of how much time I’ve spent here, and though I am still unsure for whom I really write these reviews, and for what purpose, I am very grateful for the way that this site has motivated me to keep reading and writing so much over the past few years. That has undeniably been a benefit. And I am also thankful to everyone who has taken the time to read my reviews, and for my friends for continually pointing me in the direction of more and more wonderful books. There are so many to read, and not enough time....more
The most remarkable thing about these novels is the way the characters mature so realistically. Their outlooks, interests and motivations, the way theThe most remarkable thing about these novels is the way the characters mature so realistically. Their outlooks, interests and motivations, the way they approach problems and interact with others – these elements develop in subtle, compounding ways to reflect characters’ experiences and education. Those Who Leave and Those Who Stay is no longer a coming of age story, but a story about living as an adult, of facing adult challenges, of coming to terms with or undoing the choices of a younger self, built as they often are on naïve assumptions and motivations that no longer seem important. Ferrante’s talent in capturing the complex inner lives of people seems only to expand with each novel in this series.
I don’t think I’ve ever read anything that leaves me so pessimistic about marriage – even Raymond Carver sometimes hints at some possibility of equilibrium – here there is only turmoil and despair. I am anxious for the fate of the new relationship that is formed at the end of this novel. But I’m also wary of a clean, convenient resolution in the final novel. I think it would be disappointing for the ending to be anything other than entirely consistent with the complex, turbulent world we have come to know....more
The Story of a New Name is a novel about frustration. Frustration is the underlying motivation for each character, manifesting in different ways for tThe Story of a New Name is a novel about frustration. Frustration is the underlying motivation for each character, manifesting in different ways for the individuals, but in repetitive and self-reinforcing patterns that in turn create a chain of similar outcomes within the community: violence, broken marriages, and suffocating, unhappy lives.
At the centre of the novel, though viewed from a somewhat removed position is Lila’s frustration, her failure of self-actualisation arising from her early marriage and truncated education. For much of this novel she is a thoroughly unlikable character who can be seen as the cause of much misery and suffering. But she is also the victim of her own circumstances, the pressures of her environment and her own ignorance.
If there is a societal lesson that can be learned from this story it is of the importance of education. The violence of the neighbourhood and its culture of vindictiveness seem to stem from a general ignorance of the wider world, an inability to act with empathy and see past petty concerns. Elena’s own path to education seems impossibly difficult, threatened not only by envious attempts at sabotage but by the passive friction of expectation and ignorance even of the possibilities that life can offer. This is a difficult cycle to break.
Driving the plot are several love triangles that at one time become so convoluted and incestuous as to border on absurdity. However even as the story threatens to descend into soap-opera territory, there is always an unexpected development or insight that rescues it. It becomes evident towards the end of the book that what we are reading is likely to be far more autobiographical than fictitious. Perhaps it is this basis in reality that repels the cliches that would otherwise arise so naturally if we were witnessing the contrived development of fictional characters rather than the messy lives of real people. It is also this knowledge that lends weight to the suffering these characters endure. The incidents of sexual and domestic violence, of fear and heartbreak, of personal resignation to lead eternally unfulfilling lives - these are no longer hypothetical, and become all the more tragic and disturbing....more
As with Days of Abandonment, I was impressed by Ferrante’s emotional intelligence, her ability to create characters that are complex, self-limiting, dAs with Days of Abandonment, I was impressed by Ferrante’s emotional intelligence, her ability to create characters that are complex, self-limiting, driven by needs and desires that are often contradictory and opaque even to themselves. Their relationships to each other are equally complex: loves and friendships are fundamentally imbalanced, built on competition, and fraught with uncertainty and self-doubt. She captures wonderfully the ignorant confusion of childhood and adolescence, the struggle to find one’s way, the overwhelming influence of environment, and the difficulty in seeing beyond one's circumstances – constraints which are made starkly apparent though the senseless violence of a culture driven by honour and retributive justice. There is so much about the human condition generally and this stage of life particularly that she captures perfectly.
My Beautiful Friend has the flavour of an introduction to a larger story. I am engaged and will read on in anticipation....more
Saramago’s novels often have the appearance of grand allegories, but they are not. One gets the sense of a writer simply exploring a premise with greaSaramago’s novels often have the appearance of grand allegories, but they are not. One gets the sense of a writer simply exploring a premise with great freedom and a lack of embarrassment. Saramago allows himself to follow a line of thought to its logical conclusion, even if that conclusion is absurd to the point of ridiculousness. What makes this work is that he does not expect you to suspend disbelief. This is an exercise in conjecture, not realism. Where there are nonsensical contradictions, he is the first to point them out and laugh along with you.
Saramago begins Death at Intervals with very broad strokes. He is poking around, trying to kick up a worthy subject from under the dust, and it is clear from this haphazard approach that he really has no idea of the direction the novel will take. The scope narrows suddenly and dramatically in the second half of the novel, as he latches onto the single, salient figure that this rummaging has found for him. The entire thing is as absurd as it is refreshing. The surprising strangeness of the second half of the novel justifies the meanderings of the first.
But with Saramagos’s writing, it’s very much about the journey, not the destination. The author leaves no stone unturned, no question unasked, as he takes us on this strange trip. The characters themselves guide his writing, and they are allowed to roam unbounded within his imagination. There are so many surprising turns, so many dark corners of human experience that are uncovered in this free exploration, that are not acknowledged by any other writer. Death at Intervals is strange and flawed, but Saramago’s approach is just so unusual, and his imagination so free – it really is a wonderfully unique experience....more