If there's a writer who can faithfully put on the page emotions and situations that just about any reader can identify with, it's got to be this guy. If there's a writer who can faithfully put on the page emotions and situations that just about any reader can identify with, it's got to be this guy. This book is full of observations—some chuckle-worthy, some cringe-inducing—that had me swimming back through time, remembering similar pieces from my life.
Reading this book is like me and Knausgaard as children, sitting in the back seat of a sedan, with our hands out the window, imagining a sword extending from the tips our fingers, cutting down stop signs and telephone poles as they zoom by. Knausgaard and I nervous at a high school party when we see our crush walk past, or me and Knausgaard going through waves of grief and relief (and subsequent guilt) after a loved one's passing.
That's both the virtue and downside of this book. Knausgaard is a genius at honestly distilling normal, mundane life onto the page in a way very few other authors are capable of. It's brilliant. At the same time, I don't always want to read some that is so close to the uncomfortable mundanity of my own life.
It's a good book; a really good book, maybe. But is Knausgaard the second coming of Proust? Is he some kind of literary god? I'm not as sure as others. I think he's a very good diarist, but he's not going on my favorites shelf....more
A strange, sad little book that just gets sadder the more I think about it. Some sad things are pleasant to think about, but not this one. This sadnesA strange, sad little book that just gets sadder the more I think about it. Some sad things are pleasant to think about, but not this one. This sadness would be too easily attainable. ...more
I'm torn about this. I want a Norwegian young adult-friendly novel that incorporates a significant history of philosophy and a good introduction to meI'm torn about this. I want a Norwegian young adult-friendly novel that incorporates a significant history of philosophy and a good introduction to metafiction to be a great, wonderful, awe-inspiring thing. Those are two things from my top-ten list: philosophy and metafiction. But unfortunately, too much of this is just boring. As a lover of philosophy, I still must admit that the history of philosophy is pretty freaking boring. Reading about philosophy is boring. Discussing philosophy with other people... that's where it gets interesting.
If someone reads this in a high school class and starts thinking about big questions like 'what does it mean to be a human being?', 'do I have free will?", 'are there an infinite number of universes and if so does that mean there is someone somewhere exactly like me?', 'how should a person live when he/she knows that one day he/she will not be alive?', or 'am I a character in a story rather than a real person?' (rather than questions like 'do my selfies look hotter when I make my lips look like a duck beak or when I stick my tongue out?', 'why won't my mom buy me that new piece of electronic junk that all my friends already have', or 'what do I have to do to become the boyfriend of Justin Beaver?'), then I will be incredibly happy. Unfortunately, I think most kids these days will be pretty bored....more
This was probably the wrong Jason work to start with. What I thought was a graphic novel turned out to be a collection of short comic strips, althoughThis was probably the wrong Jason work to start with. What I thought was a graphic novel turned out to be a collection of short comic strips, although there was no indication (that I saw) that it was a collection of short strips rather than a graphic novel, so like a dummy I found myself trying to connect seemingly (and truly) unconnectable pages and panels.
Even so, having discovered the true nature of the book, the cleverness seems spread thinly. The situational irony of Dracula lounging at the beach can only be so funny and taken so far....more
In a year, when someone mentions that they are reading this book, I'll say "yeah, I read that", but I will not be able to recall anything about it. OtIn a year, when someone mentions that they are reading this book, I'll say "yeah, I read that", but I will not be able to recall anything about it. Other than its mood. It resides somewhere on the same bookshelf as Tinkers, a shelf covered in frost and nostalgia and sadness.
Both Out Stealing Horses and Tinkers feature an old man remembering his life of hardships. They exude a tone more so than they present a plot - the tone of human isolation and quiet reflection. But unfortunately for me, that's the extent of what I got out of it. Much like Tinkers, this book is well written, but not impeccably written. While it is sometimes insightful, it is too self-consciously literary. I can't read this book without imagining the author reading it to me in his soothing, accented voice, standing at a podium with a warm mug of Earl Grey in a turtleneck. Every time a cliche or improbable development occurs in his story, he takes a moment to say something like, "that kind of coincidence seems far-fetched in fiction, in modern novels anyway, and I find it hard to accept" - just to make sure the reader knows that he purposefully made a mistake, or what seems like a mistake.
But I feel like I'm being hard on it. The first two chapters are remarkable. They present a symmetry between the old man and his younger self and allow the rest of the novel to unfold like a mystery - what events led this kid to becoming this isolated old man? (Though it becomes clear as you read on that the last thing Petterson is trying to do is solve or even present a mystery.) And the second chapter contains the greatest expression of seething, repressed emotion that I can think of at the moment. But the rest of the book felt like an anticlimax to the book's exciting beginning....more
Christopher
>
Books:
norwegian
(15)
Loading...
