vivian_m_anderson's reviews
127 reviews

classic kafka in my experience of him(aka profoundly pretentious, sometimes dull, and occasionaly life-changing). my favorite aphorisms are below

 

“Aphorism 22: You are the task. No pupil far and wide” (43).

“Aphorism 30: In a certain sense the Good offers no comfort” (58).

“Aphorism 32: The crows claim that a single crow could destroy heaven. That is incontestable, but it offers no proof at all against heaven, because heaven does signify the impossibility of crows” (62).

“Aphorism 39: It is impossible to pay Evil in installments--and one never stops trying to.

--

It is conceivable that Alexander the Great--despite the military successes of his youth, despite the superb army he trained, despite the powers he felt within him aimed at changing the world--might have stopped at the Hellespont and never have crossed it, not from fear, not from indecision, not from weakness of will, but from being weighed down by the force of gravity” (78).

“Aphorism 59: A stair not deeply hollowed out by footsteps is, from its own point of view, merely a lackluster assemblage of wood” (59).

“Aphorism 87: A belief like a guillotine, as heavy, as light” (174).

“Aphorism 97: Only here is suffering suffering. Not in the way that those who suffer here are to be elevated in some other place on account of this suffering, but in such a way that what in this world is called suffering is in another world, unchanged and only freed from its opposite, bliss” (194).

“Aphorism 109: ‘It cannot be said that we lack in belief. The very fact that we live at all is an inexhaustible wellspring of belief.

‘This would indicate a wellspring of belief? Surely one cannot not live.’

‘The incredible power of belief lies squarely in that surely one cannot; it takes on its form in this negation.’

…

It is not necessary for you to leave the house. Stay at your table and listen. Don’t even listen; just wait. Don’t even wait; be utterly still and alone. The world will offer itself to you to be unmasked; it cannot do otherwise; it will writhe before you in ecstasy” (218).

i can't stop thinking about this book, yet I still don't know what exactly to make of it. as a whole book, it is good--a great debut, but not a triumph of a novel like the bluest eye or the picture of dorain gray. it lacks structure, the ending is odd, and at times it seems to drag a bit. and yet I am fascinated by it; the prose, the plot, the father-son relationship that it centers. it's almost like a cult class, where it's not necessarily good but is new, engaging, and at times utterly fantastic. 

i don't even know how to write this review. this book started as a challenge from my father, and it ended over six months later. i'm not sure that this book is as good as my other five-star reads--the picture of dorian gray and the bluest eye are truly beautiful novels, a fortune for your disaster lives in my mind every single day, and in the dream house and know my name are heartbreaking, poetic memoirs. this book is not any of those things. but it is excellent, ridiculously detailed, and surprisingly captivating. it is the single best biography i have ever read, and perhaps the best book about america i've ever read. this book is a triumph, front to back, and if robert moses is the man who has had the most impact on an american city of any individual in history, robert e caro may be america's best biographer. perhaps it is the annoying pretentious man's answer to give this five stars, but with nearly 100 pages flagged, i feel compelled to do so.

an odd, solemn, dry book that feels challenging to review. again, extremely masculine in a way that fascinates me. is it interesting? not particularly. is it engaging? also not very much. i take umbridge with steve almond's assertion that the book is "utterly riveting" considering that very little actually happens throughout the book. but it is well-written, and at times quite insightful; i found myself marking down many pages for notable prose that felt like striking illustrations of the human experience. kind of like eating a saltine by itself. 

"one moment was juxtaposed against another, yet isolated from it, and he had the feeling that he was removed from time, watching as it passed before him like a great unevenly turned diorama"

"he came to look forward to these rare and unpredictable moments, for in that sleep-drugged acquiescence he could pretend to himself that he found a kind of response."

"he was fourty-two years old, and he could see nothing before him that he wished to enjoy and little behind him that he cared to remember"

"the person one loves at first is not the person one loves at last, and that love is not an end but a process through which one person attempts to know another."

all of page 213

a fabulous novel, one almost but not quite worthy of a 4.75 (it's really closer to a 4.65/4.7, but let's not get pedantic.) the first part of the story is a beautiful sort-of love story, even if the novel feels (intentionally) pretentious at times. i'm not usually fond of a "they both like eachother but thinks the other doesn't" storyline, but i think it's employed well here. apologies for the spoliers, but i was absolutely shocked when gaunt "died." i genuinely believed the rest of the book would continue with ellwood only recalling gaunt, and perhaps even ellwoods death as well. it was utterly tragic, and yet the reveal that gaunt has not only lived, but reunited with living ellwood to realise they don't love each other in the same way anymore is infinitely more tragic. the ending in brazil is already not happy, but i almost wish the author had left their relationship fraught and tense. in any case, definitely a quick and enthralling read that leaves you feeling quite sick, both from heartbreak and gore. 

"it was amazing how much less affectionate "with affection" sounded than "affectionately""

"the hague convention sought to make war more humane. we had reached a point in history where we believed it was possible to make war more humane."

"it was dispiriting work, particularly when they had to scratch out with black pen all references to the men's blood-dimmed horror. fear was not good for civilian morale. ellwood wondered how the widows of britain would interpret the great smudges of the censorship pens, whethere they would imagine far worse things under the black ink than the muted versions of reality the men described."

"ellwood wanted to punch him. he wanted to make him bleed, and then tend to the wounds."

perhaps the best of the trilogy! river's sections are good, but priors sections are fascinating. i understand that they need to balance eachother out--especially for the extended comparison of the so-called "savagery" of the indigenous peoples with the actually savageness of war--but river's sections lost me a bit, and i frankly could have enjoyed prior's story by itself. his simultaneous evolution and degredation throughout the trilogy is truly captivating, though quite grim.

a great sequel--admittedly harder to follow but with some elements that add additional dimension  the first book sometimes lacked. i didn't expect it to take such a queer turn (i swear, i wasn't trying to read something queer this time, it just happened) but it added great dimension to prior's character. i am also unsurprisingly fascinated with sarah and i'm glad barker spent more time exploring the female characters and this and the ghost road. i couldn't pull any quotes because it was a library copy, but i promise there are some great ones, particularly revolving around the central motif of the titular eye in the door!

perhaps my first (?) world war one, but certainly not my last. i thought this book had excellent pacing--it meandered and slowed when necessary but kept an engaging pace throughout. i was surprised to learn that prior was the trilogy's main character, as rivers and sassoon felt more central to the story. anyways, i know i always joke about needing to diversify my literary chocies by reading more male authors, but there really was value in this uniquely masculine book set atop the backdrop of trench warfare. pat barker writes men as well as todd haynes writes women, and that is HIGH praise.

 "any explanation of war neurosis must account for the fact that this apparently intense masculine life of war and danger and hardship produced in men the same disorders that women suffered from in peace."

"the road smelled of hot tar, moths flickered between the trees, and when at last, turning up the drive into craiglockhart, he stopped and threw back his head, the stars burst on his upturned face like spray."

"after all, in war, you've got this enormous emphasis on love between men--comradeship--and everybody approves. but at the same time there's always this little niggle of anxiety. is it the right kind of love?"

picked it up randomly and read it all in one sitting, though that was admittedly out of necessity since i was on a four hour flight. i found our main character deeply tragic and visibility winced when he fell back into his gambling addiction--again, i want to read more about addiction but particularly gambling addictions as i think the sports betting and easily accesible unregulated online gambling industry right now is absolutely getting out of control. also a fun look in restaurant behind the scenes other than bistro huddy