“The oaks which grow. The stones which don’t.
Art, and sadness, which last forever.”

A fitting goodbye from Frankie, our main character, who seems to struggle as much with her own assaulting thoughts as she does with the physical realm of life. I was expecting a shallow happy ending to this book, or maybe not expecting, rather, dreading the possibility. It didn’t happen, in fact it approached the ending with nuance befitting of this plotless anxiety attack of a book.

Sara Baume’s novel A Line Made by Walking takes its name from an artwork created by Richard Long in 1967 which now hangs in the Tate Britain. That artwork is a black and white photograph of a field in Wiltshire with a thin line through the middle created when the artist walked backwards and forwards enough times to flatten the crop.

This is just one of dozens of art works — mainly installations — referenced in Baume’s hypnotic novel about Frankie, a young Irish woman grappling with a sense of purpose. She is a fine arts graduate but hasn’t managed to make a name for herself as an artist. She’s worked in a gallery but found it unfulfilling, and living in Dublin has been a lonely experience.

Now, aged 25, Frankie has decamped to her late grandmother’s house in the countryside, where she’s convinced her parents she will be caretaker until the property has sold. But her grandmother died three years ago, the house is falling apart and there doesn’t seem to be much interest from buyers.

Most of her grandmother’s unwanted belongings are still in the house and Frankie, chronically depressed but refusing to take medication, doesn’t have the wherewithal to do any housework, much less transform the place into a saleable state. In fact, she does so little housework that she moves from one bedroom to another so that she doesn’t need to wash the sheets!

To read the rest of my review, please visit my blog.

I feel like this is The Catcher in the Rye for my 21 year old self.

U tezama, pošto mislim da ne mogu ništa kohezivno da kažem na temu romana, a sumnjam i da ću ikada uspeti. Više je razloga za to. Možda zato što me je nenadano pogodio. Možda zato što se plašim sebi da priznam da mi je i trebao. Ili prosto zato što ne znam šta da kažem o romanu koji je suštinski niz kratkih paragrafa na svakojake teme. Ali gotovo bez izuzetka na one mračn(ij)e.

Počeo sam ovaj roman i umalo odustao posle dvadesetak strana. Mislio sam: depresija je tako melodramatična nekad. A završio ga sa osećajem totalne iznurenosti. I, mislim, novim favoritom.

Pa evo:
-pravo mesto, pravo vreme: knjiga me je pronašla tačno kada mi je trebala; kada se javljaju dileme o sopstvenoj prosečnosti, o budućnosti; egzistencijalna kriza je druga reč-isto značenje (sinonim!) za ispitni rok, hoću reći
-reference done right: imam svadju sa referencama u romanima zbog toga što mislim da stare izuzetno loše i suviše zavise od te neke kvaziširine (elita piše za elitu) osobe koja čita; ovde je to drugačije, svaka referenca je detaljno objašnjena (ima smisla zašto je tako, nije nakaradno), mahom na temu konceptualne umetnosti koja gle čuda i nije tako idiotska kao što sam prethodno mislio
-beskonačna karakterizacija: narative gotovo nema, a mislim da sam bar sto puta rekao kako su meni to i omiljeni romani; postoji nešto u tom bestelesnom talasanju u tudjoj glavi, zamišljanju jednog celog života sa druge strane stranice
-ekonomična poetičnost: iako ponekad volim onako kada mu baš daju na dušu (da ne upotrebim onaj drugi izraz) sa stilom, mislim da je ovo prava mera liričnosti; pitko i gorko-slatko (neću reći bitersvit; ups) i ume da zaustavi u mestu
-sentimentalna vrednost: knjigu sam kupio u Dablinu u nekoj lokalnoj knjižari sa idejom „zašto bih kupovao nešto što ću i u Srbiji zasigurno kad tad kupiti“, pa sam na preporuku knjižarke (ne mogu baš da tvrdim da je to pravi izraz), uzeo ovu – hvala joj

Možda ovo i jeste ipak koliko toliko kohezivno, ali nisam mogao da se bakćem sa spojnicama. Kao što rekoh – umoran sam, sve su mi kosti polomljene. Ali na mestu su i zato (verovatno) mogu da zacele samo snažnije.

5

I can't say I have enjoyed reading "A Line Made by Walking" by Sara Baume at all.
This book is a victim of bad marketing, as far as I'm concerned: I love animals in general, and foxes in particular, so of course I'll pick up every book that has a fox on its cover.
I could never have imagined that what I would find inside was just a collection of

Spoiler

photos of dead animals (including the fox). Who in their right mind thought it was a good idea to design a cover and write a blurb that appeals to nature lovers, when the actual book is an endless collage of slaughtered animals?
Also, I've read other novels that deal with animal deaths, and those other novels haven't disturbed me half as much as this one did. I think it was the heartless, uncaring way those deaths were handled here that really upset me.

Overall, I think the publisher did the book a disservice by advertising it as something that it's not, because the wrong kind of reader is going to buy it and not enjoy it, whereas the readers who might actually enjoy this kind of work won't be buying it, due to the cover art making it look like something else.

There are books in life that feel as if they were written for you.

4.75/5stars

i fucking loved this

Read for my 'Outstanding' N.E.W.T in Charms 2019 #magicalreadathon. Prompt - Read a paperback. Career choice - Ministry of Magic, Department of Mysteries Worker. A book that hits a bit too close to home to really talk about.