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Years of the Elephant
Madam ... Sir ... May we come in? ... What could the policemen want at their door at this hour? ... I'm afraid we have some bad news! ... Before these dreadful words were spoken it had been a normal start to the day in the Germonprez residence. Carl checking on his modest investments in the newspaper, Simone tackling some early morning housework and their son Bart ... Your son has jumped off the roof! ... At first there was no pain, just the blur. Carl, in an emotional haze, heads off to work only to discover, on the sidewalk outside their home, a chalk outline where there had been a son. Willy Linthout follows Carl's journey intimately and sympathetically with unfinished art as he careers from colleagues to friends, therapists to machines, crazy to angry in his attempt to deal with his son's suicide. But, as Willy knows only too well himself, this particular journey is long and may be never ending.
162 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2007
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 30 reviews
March 7, 2020
Belgian comics artist Willy Linthout's son Sam committed suicide. Linthout is widely known in Belgium and the Netherlands for his goofy Urbanus cartoons, all humorous, fictional stories wrtten and drawn by him, a familiar and famous comedian. Those cartoons are all laughs all the time, apparently; silly. I can't say for sure because these aren't translated into English yet. Then this terrible thing happens to Linthout to disrupt his goofy positive view of the world. You lose someone in your life, that's hard for anyone. Losing my mother, losing my father, these events were the worst things that have happened to me. And the "loss" of my apparently normal son to autism beginning at the age of three. But losing your son to suicide: How can you recover from it? And Linthout was not estranged from his son. He says they were friends, not just a father and son.
So the two books that are translated into English from Linthout pertaining this experience are Elephant, quite raw, focused on his insane experiences with grief; the second, What We Need to Know, broadens the focus to his wider family, to three brothers who all use inappropriate coping mechanisms for their problems, though alcohol seems to be the central crutch for all of them.
I don't know Linthout, so I have to piece together a sort of reflection about how these memoirist comics work with his funny stuff. Linthout likes to make people laugh with his comics, then this suicide hits him like a ton of bricks. He decides to try to evoke for himself and his readers what this experience is like for him, something he never tried to do before. Urbanus feels a little like old-style comics, decades old, madcap, hilarious, with lots of color. They don't seem polished, but they are accomplished and very popular. In Elephant and What We Need Linthout attempts something different; they're black and white, and feel often like a first draft sketchbook (Elephant intro writer Paul Gravett says it is like Jeffrey Brown's Clumsy, and that is exactly right), which may be off-putting if you expect finished, impressive, precise artwork in your comics.
So we know Linthout is capable of more polished artwork; so what's the effect of it all? Intimacy, rawness. Gravett said that Linthout told him, "Sam's life didn't get to go all the way, it stayed unfinished, so the same goes for my pencils." It's all pencil work, you can see the sketching, some erasures, but this turns out to be an effective strategy. He's not making Art, he's telling a simpole, painful story abut his son. Or maybe, rather, that is what Art is for him here, it's not some polished, pretentious process. And still, Linthout, a joke-teller, is who he is. He wants to show you how ridiculous life can be even in grief. Whenever he can he shows you how the main character is almost comically nuts from his grief. Moments feature the darkest of comedy, with painful smiles.
Linthout chooses fiction as his vehicle for telling, but it's thinly veiled autobiographical fiction, based on what little I know. What does he get to do with fiction vs straight memoir? Cris Mazza, a fiction writer, once told me she hated memoir. She thought you could do so much more with fiction, you could do anything with it, though she now also writes memoir and uses it to explore her own issues. But maybe Linthout, a fiction writer, saw, too, that he could convey his experience better through fiction, through metaphor, through analogy. He chooses a character, Roger, whose son Jack commits suicide. Wife Simone also loses their son, too, of course, but interestingly, Roger is not able to go through the process of grieving with her. He speaks to his wife throughout, but she is never actually depicted, she is out of the frame, which effectively conveys his isolation from her in his grief.
Later, Roger seems to recognize that the main person he could have/should have leaned on was his wife, but this isn't where his emotions took him at the time. Grief too often isolates rather than brings us together. Roger does get comforted by a therapist, and his brother Charles (and Linthout's own brother writes a poem that Linthout includes as being written by Roger. . . who then gets depicted not as a comics writer, but as a poet). There's a fascinating scene in a bookstore where a woman upbraids Roger for writing about his son so callously in his "poems" [though in real life, Linthout had released the first part of Elephant. . . ], and castigates him for not "properly" grieving his dead son! For being "disrespectful" even to write about the experience in the way he does! How can he win?!). He tries booze and prescription drugs to cope, but mainly he is just spinning out of control.
Roger's experience of grief is completely interesting to me; it's surreal, or a bit like magical realism. He is "visited" regularly by his son all the time in his imagination. The police outline of his body on the pavement Roger wants to preserve forever. He has fits of anger, filled with hallucination, all of which are depicted as the same as any other experiences (as Chris Ware accomplishes in Jimmy Corrigan, where memory and fantasy and perception blend, we don't always know which is which, just as Roger struggles with these distinctions). Roger is insane with grief, and the fiction helps us to see this in a way that straight memoir may not for Linthout. I also just read John Porcellino's The Hospital Suite, about Porcellino's painful lifelong physical and psychological struggles, a memoir, and Linthout's tale is equally painful and unsparing.
In the end, Roger turns silently into Willy, in the final panels, and I won't say more about it than that, but that shift from Roger to Willy is surprising and touching and wonderful, in a way, I'll just say that.
I don't know much of pain or grief or loss, really, still at 61, though I will, for sure, know more. It's part of life, of course. Some people didn't "enjoy" this book and rated it low. Part of this has to do with the artwork, which seems perhaps to them like some old guy's sketchbook, not professional. Maybe in a way it is repetitive, as the grief and craziness just goes on and on for years. Maybe part of it is that people don't want to know hard things, they make them uncomfortable, sad. But I think these stories provide us maps for how to navigate such experiences, and how not to, or just help us see what is humanly possible, even if they are not a complete release from pain. I didn't "love" this book, but at the same time it has stayed with me, powerful in its raw depiction of grief. I was thankful for it.
I first read it in December 2014 and again for a class in February 2015, where we took a look at his goofier stuff with/about Urbanus (the Belgian comedian), which so contrasts with the work on grief. But he's an accomplished artist that knows what he is doing in these sketchy comics. It seems to me that he gives us one gift in Urbanus when he makes us laugh at life, and another in helping us see how to cope (and sometimes not to cope) with trauma. And even sometimes laugh at yourself in grief.
I initially gave it four stars because I still felt a little distant from Linthout and his experience in my reading it, but I now feel it is awesome, profoundly affecting, it stays and stays with me.
So the two books that are translated into English from Linthout pertaining this experience are Elephant, quite raw, focused on his insane experiences with grief; the second, What We Need to Know, broadens the focus to his wider family, to three brothers who all use inappropriate coping mechanisms for their problems, though alcohol seems to be the central crutch for all of them.
I don't know Linthout, so I have to piece together a sort of reflection about how these memoirist comics work with his funny stuff. Linthout likes to make people laugh with his comics, then this suicide hits him like a ton of bricks. He decides to try to evoke for himself and his readers what this experience is like for him, something he never tried to do before. Urbanus feels a little like old-style comics, decades old, madcap, hilarious, with lots of color. They don't seem polished, but they are accomplished and very popular. In Elephant and What We Need Linthout attempts something different; they're black and white, and feel often like a first draft sketchbook (Elephant intro writer Paul Gravett says it is like Jeffrey Brown's Clumsy, and that is exactly right), which may be off-putting if you expect finished, impressive, precise artwork in your comics.
So we know Linthout is capable of more polished artwork; so what's the effect of it all? Intimacy, rawness. Gravett said that Linthout told him, "Sam's life didn't get to go all the way, it stayed unfinished, so the same goes for my pencils." It's all pencil work, you can see the sketching, some erasures, but this turns out to be an effective strategy. He's not making Art, he's telling a simpole, painful story abut his son. Or maybe, rather, that is what Art is for him here, it's not some polished, pretentious process. And still, Linthout, a joke-teller, is who he is. He wants to show you how ridiculous life can be even in grief. Whenever he can he shows you how the main character is almost comically nuts from his grief. Moments feature the darkest of comedy, with painful smiles.
Linthout chooses fiction as his vehicle for telling, but it's thinly veiled autobiographical fiction, based on what little I know. What does he get to do with fiction vs straight memoir? Cris Mazza, a fiction writer, once told me she hated memoir. She thought you could do so much more with fiction, you could do anything with it, though she now also writes memoir and uses it to explore her own issues. But maybe Linthout, a fiction writer, saw, too, that he could convey his experience better through fiction, through metaphor, through analogy. He chooses a character, Roger, whose son Jack commits suicide. Wife Simone also loses their son, too, of course, but interestingly, Roger is not able to go through the process of grieving with her. He speaks to his wife throughout, but she is never actually depicted, she is out of the frame, which effectively conveys his isolation from her in his grief.
Later, Roger seems to recognize that the main person he could have/should have leaned on was his wife, but this isn't where his emotions took him at the time. Grief too often isolates rather than brings us together. Roger does get comforted by a therapist, and his brother Charles (and Linthout's own brother writes a poem that Linthout includes as being written by Roger. . . who then gets depicted not as a comics writer, but as a poet). There's a fascinating scene in a bookstore where a woman upbraids Roger for writing about his son so callously in his "poems" [though in real life, Linthout had released the first part of Elephant. . . ], and castigates him for not "properly" grieving his dead son! For being "disrespectful" even to write about the experience in the way he does! How can he win?!). He tries booze and prescription drugs to cope, but mainly he is just spinning out of control.
Roger's experience of grief is completely interesting to me; it's surreal, or a bit like magical realism. He is "visited" regularly by his son all the time in his imagination. The police outline of his body on the pavement Roger wants to preserve forever. He has fits of anger, filled with hallucination, all of which are depicted as the same as any other experiences (as Chris Ware accomplishes in Jimmy Corrigan, where memory and fantasy and perception blend, we don't always know which is which, just as Roger struggles with these distinctions). Roger is insane with grief, and the fiction helps us to see this in a way that straight memoir may not for Linthout. I also just read John Porcellino's The Hospital Suite, about Porcellino's painful lifelong physical and psychological struggles, a memoir, and Linthout's tale is equally painful and unsparing.
In the end, Roger turns silently into Willy, in the final panels, and I won't say more about it than that, but that shift from Roger to Willy is surprising and touching and wonderful, in a way, I'll just say that.
I don't know much of pain or grief or loss, really, still at 61, though I will, for sure, know more. It's part of life, of course. Some people didn't "enjoy" this book and rated it low. Part of this has to do with the artwork, which seems perhaps to them like some old guy's sketchbook, not professional. Maybe in a way it is repetitive, as the grief and craziness just goes on and on for years. Maybe part of it is that people don't want to know hard things, they make them uncomfortable, sad. But I think these stories provide us maps for how to navigate such experiences, and how not to, or just help us see what is humanly possible, even if they are not a complete release from pain. I didn't "love" this book, but at the same time it has stayed with me, powerful in its raw depiction of grief. I was thankful for it.
I first read it in December 2014 and again for a class in February 2015, where we took a look at his goofier stuff with/about Urbanus (the Belgian comedian), which so contrasts with the work on grief. But he's an accomplished artist that knows what he is doing in these sketchy comics. It seems to me that he gives us one gift in Urbanus when he makes us laugh at life, and another in helping us see how to cope (and sometimes not to cope) with trauma. And even sometimes laugh at yourself in grief.
I initially gave it four stars because I still felt a little distant from Linthout and his experience in my reading it, but I now feel it is awesome, profoundly affecting, it stays and stays with me.
June 20, 2017
Sorry ik zie allemaal positieve berichten, maar ik kan het echt niet meer geven dan twee sterren. Ik houd wel van een striproman, maar ik kon er niet om lachen. Ik zat maar steeds te denken ik hoop dat ik het snel uit heb. Het gaat over Karel, die zijn zoon verliest door zelfdoding. Hoe hij ermee omgaat. Het boek is bekroond met de Prijs van de Vlaamse Gemeenschap voor Strip. Ik heb wel vaker boeken en strips over dit onderwerp gelezen en die vond ik toch beter. Ik zou zeggen probeer het en ik ben benieuwd naar wat jullie ervan vinden.
January 23, 2023
http://looneybooks79.blog/2023/01/23/...
Hoewel de typische tekenstijl van Willy Linthout heel herkenbaar is (van de Urbanus albums) heeft deze strip een veel intensere achtergrond en blijft ie in zwart-witte potloodtekeningen heel sober…
De achtergrond van deze strip is de zelfdoding van de zoon van Willy Linthout, Sam, in 2007. Kort erna maakte hij deze strip, in acht delen, om het verdriet te verwerken en een rouwproces op gang te brengen. En dat is ook heel duidelijk in het verhaal…
Karels zoon, Wannes, pleegt zelfmoord door van het dak van hun gebouw te springen. En van dat moment leeft Karel in een nachtmerrie en weet hij niet meer wat echt en wat gefantaseerd is. Hij gaat wel bij een dokter langs die hem probeert te helpen maar Karel zelf wil maar één ding: bij zijn zoon zijn. Zelfs zijn huwelijk stelt ie op proef door zijn gedrag.
Zoals gezegd: oorspronkelijk verscheen de strip in acht delen. Deze zijn nu gebundeld in deze uitgebreide en definitieve editie, met veertig nieuwe pagina’s bij.
Linthout heeft aan de hand van humor het verdriet proberen van zich afschrijven. En toch blijft dit een intense en vooral integere reis door de geest van het hoofdpersonage (waarvan we kunnen denken dat dit Willy zelf is) die de pijn van het verlies moet zien te verwerken maar geen manier vindt om dit te doen…
Dit greep me zo hard naar de keel… dit is een harde kick tegen het hoofd, een eye opener, een ware nachtmerrie voor elk familielid die iemand op deze manier kwijtraakt…
Hoewel de typische tekenstijl van Willy Linthout heel herkenbaar is (van de Urbanus albums) heeft deze strip een veel intensere achtergrond en blijft ie in zwart-witte potloodtekeningen heel sober…
De achtergrond van deze strip is de zelfdoding van de zoon van Willy Linthout, Sam, in 2007. Kort erna maakte hij deze strip, in acht delen, om het verdriet te verwerken en een rouwproces op gang te brengen. En dat is ook heel duidelijk in het verhaal…
Karels zoon, Wannes, pleegt zelfmoord door van het dak van hun gebouw te springen. En van dat moment leeft Karel in een nachtmerrie en weet hij niet meer wat echt en wat gefantaseerd is. Hij gaat wel bij een dokter langs die hem probeert te helpen maar Karel zelf wil maar één ding: bij zijn zoon zijn. Zelfs zijn huwelijk stelt ie op proef door zijn gedrag.
Zoals gezegd: oorspronkelijk verscheen de strip in acht delen. Deze zijn nu gebundeld in deze uitgebreide en definitieve editie, met veertig nieuwe pagina’s bij.
Linthout heeft aan de hand van humor het verdriet proberen van zich afschrijven. En toch blijft dit een intense en vooral integere reis door de geest van het hoofdpersonage (waarvan we kunnen denken dat dit Willy zelf is) die de pijn van het verlies moet zien te verwerken maar geen manier vindt om dit te doen…
Dit greep me zo hard naar de keel… dit is een harde kick tegen het hoofd, een eye opener, een ware nachtmerrie voor elk familielid die iemand op deze manier kwijtraakt…
May 19, 2021
je bent als lezer een stuiterbal die niet weet waar hij op de volgende pagina zal landen: van absurdistische humor ga je over naar schrijnende eenzaamheid, naar maffe theorieën en musicalmomenten om dan toch weer te landen bij wat het boek is: een poging tot rouwverwerking door een vader bij de zelfdoding van de enige zoon. Het gemis wordt tastbaar gemaakt met de krijtschaduw van de dode op de stoep die de hele tijd als het ware meereist en het terugkerende verlangen van de vader om zijn zoon achterna te reizen dat telkens maar net in de kiem wordt gesmoord. De vader lijkt vast te zitten: hij kan niet meer gaan werken (de baas als nevenpersonage is ook erg slim uitgewerkt), de gesprekken met de psychologe eindigen vaak in woedeuitbarstingen en tussen hem en zijn vrouw ontstaat een onoverbrugbare kloof. En toch moet hij verder, moet hij zich aan vriendschap en liefde vastklampen.
Door de oorspronkelijke potloodtekeningen te laten staan komen mislukken en slagen nog dichter bij elkaar te liggen. En Willy tekent ook erg mooi oude mensen.
Door de oorspronkelijke potloodtekeningen te laten staan komen mislukken en slagen nog dichter bij elkaar te liggen. En Willy tekent ook erg mooi oude mensen.
August 6, 2023
Een zoon pleegt zelfmoord en de vader glijdt af in wanhoop, depressie en waanbeelden. Linthouts eigen rouwverwerking in een rauw beeldverhaal.
March 20, 2010
This graphic novel is really intense. The author lost his son to suicide and this offering is his attempt to reconcile his feelings. It was really depressing to me. The main character struggles to cope with his feelings the whole book, and I can't imagine anyone who has lost a child not being severely affected by reading this book. I have two kids and can't imagine how I would cope if I ever lost either one of them. In the back of your mind it is something you always think about as a parent, very scary. Yes, I enjoyed the book, but now I feel a need to go outside and enjoy the sunshine for awhile to not be so bummed out. Books like this really make you think, and in the end I believe that's a good thing. This book is very powerful.
June 3, 2017
I love graphic novels as a medium to talk about trauma and this book is such an excellent example of this. The way it brings loss and depression to life is fenomenal. But I give it four stars instead of five because I didn't feel the panels were very dynamic: each page has the normal six panels, there was no difference in how the pages were built, which made the pace of the story a bit... hasty? Switching between larger and smaller panels gives your eyes a place to rest before moving on to the rest of the story.
September 30, 2024
3.8 ⭐️
Very accurate and very well-written. Do not read when depressed and suicidal; this will make it worse.
Very accurate and very well-written. Do not read when depressed and suicidal; this will make it worse.
October 2, 2024
Sad and depressing, but helpful to process the death of a child who killed themselves.
March 15, 2024
Het verliezen van een kind en vervolgens door “moeten” leven. Hoe doe je dat? Rouwverwerking versus rauw verwerken. Mooi getekend in passende zwart-wit tekeningen.
Prachtige graphic novel.
Prachtige graphic novel.
Read
October 1, 2024Yeah
April 1, 2018
Read it in two days. So accurate. So beautiful. Everyone should read this!
January 7, 2024
https://fromtheheartofeurope.eu/jaren-van-de-olifant-by-willy-linthout/
First published in 2009, this picked up the hat-trick of the three major prizes for comics in the Dutch-speaking world, the Bronze Adhemar, the Stripschapprijs and the Pix St-Michel (Dutch category). It’s an intense and moving portrait of a man coming to terms with his son’s suicide; his struggles with his marriage, his work, therapy, drugs, and his fantasies about his son’s survival.
Linthout has now expanded the original edition with two extra chapters (for a total of ten), and my hardcover copy also includes, as an appendix, an interview with the author and his therapist. One of the new chapters very consciously erodes the barriers between protagonist and author (they were slim anyway). It’s a gruelling read in places, but also has shafts of grim humour (there’s a particularly poignant scene around a book launch). Really recommended.
First published in 2009, this picked up the hat-trick of the three major prizes for comics in the Dutch-speaking world, the Bronze Adhemar, the Stripschapprijs and the Pix St-Michel (Dutch category). It’s an intense and moving portrait of a man coming to terms with his son’s suicide; his struggles with his marriage, his work, therapy, drugs, and his fantasies about his son’s survival.
Linthout has now expanded the original edition with two extra chapters (for a total of ten), and my hardcover copy also includes, as an appendix, an interview with the author and his therapist. One of the new chapters very consciously erodes the barriers between protagonist and author (they were slim anyway). It’s a gruelling read in places, but also has shafts of grim humour (there’s a particularly poignant scene around a book launch). Really recommended.
June 5, 2023
Sprakeloos en vol bewondering las ik dit meesterwerk uit. Willy Linthout confronteert je met wat er met je gebeurt als vader als je enige zoon kiest voor zelfdoding. Hij doet dit op zo een wervelende en magnifieke manier dat er niets dan bewondering en respect centraal mag staan voor deze vakman. Met de stripreeks Urbanus liet hij al een eigenzinnige kant van zichzelf zien, maar met Jaren van de Olifant laat Willy Linthout zien dat hij zoveel meer is. De definitieve en uitgebreide editie van dit meesterwerk is gewoonweg een must om in huis te halen.
April 22, 2024
Bloedeerlijk wringt de tekenaar zich met zijn absurdistische humor en tekenstijl onder je huid. Het verlies van een kind, van zijn kind, en het verwerkingsproces, dat allerindividueelste gooit hij op tafel. Ik begrijp de nominatie voor de Eisner-award. Geen inkt hier, zijn eigen, rauwe in potlood getekende stijl past perfect.
August 1, 2017
Het thema spreekt me aan, de uitwerking iets minder. Je ziet de man ontsporen, wat mooi gesymboliseerd werd, maar de urbanus-achtige tekeningen zijn als volwassene niet meer mooi genoeg om me er langer in te vertoeven.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
September 6, 2017
Si hiciste o estás haciendo un duelo de unx ser queridx deberías leerlo.
February 2, 2018
Impresionante ejercicio de exorcismo emocional. Al autor de este cómic se le suicida el hijo y para poder afrontar el problema decide vomitar sus sensaciones y vivencias en estas páginas.
March 18, 2019
I found it to be an interesting angle on the subject of suicide, and how family can be affected by the actions of those who have committed suicide. I can relate to some bits of the story.
November 26, 2023
Ik had niet veel verwacht van deze graphic novel, maar het blijkt een heel goede te zijn, las deze heel vlot uit en het verhaal pakt je wel.
April 10, 2018
Een striproman? Dat kende ik niet. Maar deze is geniaal. Geniaal om zulk onderwerp te ‘laten zien’ ‘laten lezen.’ Ik was erg ontroerd en geraakt. Knap werk.
November 8, 2016
Sketched in pencil, Willy Linthout's graphic memoir is perfectly tuned for delivering all the emotional punches. Years of the Elephant explores the emotional rollercoaster of a father after the suicide of his son, sometimes arriving at rather comical, yet heartfelt and heartbreaking moments. The choice of the tentative sketch works well with the outline of his lost son, blurring further the line between reality and imagination.
Probably the one thing that struck me as odd in the whole book was that there was never a mention of anyone wondering why Linthout's son committed suicide. There is a single panel where Linthout hints that his son did not have a super positive outlook on life "recently," but other than this, there is no exploration of the reasons behind the suicide in this book. It is so absent that I had to conclude that it was on purpose. (Usually, the first thing that anyone asks is "why?")
Recommended for those who hate potatoes and chickens and who love manikins.
Probably the one thing that struck me as odd in the whole book was that there was never a mention of anyone wondering why Linthout's son committed suicide. There is a single panel where Linthout hints that his son did not have a super positive outlook on life "recently," but other than this, there is no exploration of the reasons behind the suicide in this book. It is so absent that I had to conclude that it was on purpose. (Usually, the first thing that anyone asks is "why?")
Recommended for those who hate potatoes and chickens and who love manikins.
April 25, 2024
Deze striproman werd wereldwijd vertaald en leverde de auteur een Bronzen Adhemar op, maar het boek overtuigt niet. Hoofdpersonage Karel is - letterlijk - te dun getekend en ook zijn dagdromen en verzinsels komen niet uit de verf. Daardoor blijft het hele verhaal afstandelijk en zoek je tevergeefs naar emotionele betrokkenheid. De oorzaak of aanleiding van zoon Wannes' zelfdoding komen helemaal niet ter sprake terwijl je dat toch ergens verwacht. Een gemiste kans.
March 8, 2011
linthout is a big name in comics in europe and this intense autobiographical look at loosing a son to suicide is a bit of a departure from his usual humorous side. the techniques he uses and a few graphic tricks really work well to capture the chaos of grief he must of went through. not your typical american comic but very well done.
November 1, 2012
I want to like this one more than I do.
It's very heartfelt, but quite repetitive in a way.
It makes me wonder if the translation took something out of it.
But, it's an undercovered topic certainly, there isn't anything worse than losing a child, especially to suicide.
Good, but I have a feeling might be very good in Dutch.
It's very heartfelt, but quite repetitive in a way.
It makes me wonder if the translation took something out of it.
But, it's an undercovered topic certainly, there isn't anything worse than losing a child, especially to suicide.
Good, but I have a feeling might be very good in Dutch.
November 27, 2011
Hoe het verlies van een zoon zo verschillend weegt op beide ouders. Een ingetogen maar confronterend verhaal over het omgaan met de zelfdoding van je zoon,... respect!
June 4, 2012
I felt so naked while reading this book.
All the emotions take you by surprise.
You feel the cold that the main character must have felt.
Impressing!
Heartbreaking!
Simply honest and sad!
All the emotions take you by surprise.
You feel the cold that the main character must have felt.
Impressing!
Heartbreaking!
Simply honest and sad!
April 28, 2016
I didn't really engage with this. I had high expectations (and that might have been part of the problem), but didn't find it delivered. I didn't emotionally connect - which is what I'd expected.
December 4, 2012
Prachtig.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 30 reviews