frogwithlittlehammer's reviews
265 reviews

“Americans should never come to Europe…it means they never can be happy again.”

Then I suppose I am an American back from Europe. I didn’t feel anything reading this book (especially since I’ve been emotionally conditioned to hold no sympathy towards Italian men of contadino roots). I believe the only condition of literature to upkeep is to find some humanity within the language, which I think the book even posits in its beginning. But instead of Giovanni’s Room conveying any sense of ontological agony that arises from a gay man’s inability to act or rationalize for fear of “emasculation” or ostracization, David’s (and Giovanni’s?) whiteness is a glaring scapegoat utilized to gloss over cruel and predictable behavior. Perhaps that is the point, as no harm is done to David and the poor Italian (who probably weren’t quite white yet) faces the music. However I still found that using the privileged race was not more effective at spotlighting the very repercussive nature towards homosexuality at the time. But I suppose the audience could only handle so much. 

And I’m not saying every book has to be meaningful in its stance. I guess I should defend my comparably poor review in saying that I didn’t like the writing either. 

He was free but at what cost… I mean Bjartur sure did exercise the freedom to screw up his life at every possible turn! At least the man had his sheep and coffee. 

I thought the novel was going to be a lot more epic, considering the heavily folkloric exposition, but the rest of the book read more like a Russian realist novel. And since nothing can compare to Fathers and Sons, I had a tough time seeing it as its own work, especially considering it was such an arduous read. Nevertheless, I enjoyed the capitalism slander and the enslavement to fickle weather.  

Show business is too scary.

I liked the book because it really made me work hard for an ending that I didn’t know was going to be rewarding (and I am nothing if not constantly trying to subvert a Protestant work ethic.) I was not very convinced while I was slogging halfway through Part II, but it definitely turns around once some of the shenanigans begin. It makes so much sense he studied under Vonnegut, and the book also confirms that I’ve got to get around to reading Tom Robbins. I have a soft spot for this whole strange genre—of middle American men writing dark and often concupiscent comedies in the backdrop of war. Irving has a way of writing with would-be platitudes that are not only very playful but turn out to be rather profound as well, which I enjoyed very much. If the book would have been a little more snatched and fast moving he might be a strong contender for knocking Vonnegut off of my favorite authors podium.

Je l’ai jeté avant d’emménager.

I would not have picked up a book on art history if not for the mention of Edward Hopper. So I enjoyed his chapter the most, but I ended up learning a lot about the other artists as well, and I especially found the work of Henry Darger moving. Otherwise, while The Lonely City is technically well written and offers good information, I found it rather boring and poorly presented/paced. At least if I’ve learned anything from reading the book though, it’s that I’m not lonely, at least not in the way that Laing experiences. 

She defines loneliness primarily as the idea that you’re someone who exists on the margins, seen as an outcast and therefore unwelcome, maybe even repulsive. A “lonely” person is someone who desires intimacy and closeness but can’t attain this with anyone because of their rejection from society. Laing even brings up speech as a large conduit of loneliness. “The idea that language is a game at which some players are more skilled than others has a bearing on the vexed relationship between loneliness and speech.” In this way, sure, I’ve never undergone like, ostracization, because fortunately I’ve always been good at talking to people. I still disagree with Laing’s definition though. The cure for loneliness is not acceptance into society, but rather it’s the symptom of society. There is no greater affliction that harbors such fervent want, and like bell Hooks says, “Keeping people in a constant state of lack, in perpetual desire, strengthens the marketplace economy. Lovelessness is a boon to consumerism.”

I kind of rolled my eyes at the ending of the book, about being open and kind and rejecting social stigmas, as if loneliness is something we can combat personally. Though I did like that she makes a point to talk about accepting periods of being lonely rather than frantically seeking to mask and resolve the shame associated with feeling that way. So yeah, a bit too all over the place yet slow for my liking, but rather good for its art commentary.

Il existe une différence entre la féministe sexuellement positive et la salope auto proclamée punk qui veut rationaliser ses habitudes et désirs. Elle a agi comme si le sexe est la seule façon de comprendre fait d’être une femme et aussi le seul moyen d’accéder au pouvoir mâle. Et le pire, c’est que Despentes n’est pas même moche, pas du tout! Assez chouette en fait. 

Je dirais que le livre est un récit d’une expérience individuelle, plutôt qu’un manifeste féministe. Elle écrit très très bien—ou du moins de manière extrêmement convaincante—mais je sais pas, il manquait quelque chose. Il y avait quelques points sur la dévalorisation du travail émotionnel qui m’ont beaucoup plu mais à part ça.. Peut être que je suis pas une femme suffisamment colérique et tellement, il en faut donc beaucoup pour me bouleverser dans ce sens-là, alors qu’il est clair qu’elle se nourrit de colère.