Too much pretty-pretty in this book. Honestly, the language and the love story is gorgeous, and I want to reread it, but my brain just doesn't have thToo much pretty-pretty in this book. Honestly, the language and the love story is gorgeous, and I want to reread it, but my brain just doesn't have the energy for it this year at all.
I found myself wanting to know about all the things that were sidelined in favour of the romance, because the setting and the mechanisms seem so clever...
I know I can be a better reader for this story when I have the right energy for it. It's layered in beautiful words and smart allusions and the whole 'power-of-love-through-time' stuff. So, for now, I'll say that it wasn't what I wanted. I'm willing to try again to find the reward in what it offers. Some other time.
Editing to try and make the review show up on my timeline. ...more
A deliberate and studied madness. Most certainly an awesome addition to my collection of reading experiences.
No student of history, I – nor particularA deliberate and studied madness. Most certainly an awesome addition to my collection of reading experiences.
No student of history, I – nor particularly learned in the extremes of political ideologies past and present. I claim no religious affiliation and am absolutely no celebrated (or censored) artist. I feel remarkably unqualified to give an in-depth review of this work, especially in light of all of the conversation that (quite helpfully) surrounds it.
Even approaching it from an entertainment point of view, one still cannot fail to recognize the satire and commentary in the 3-strand narrative. I found, for my own self, that the story became increasingly enjoyable the deeper I looked into it, so I'm not sure I would recommend it to a reader who finds that approach tiresome. Without it, the absurdist sections become over the top, the love story becomes high melodrama, the Pilate sections become long, and the shift between the three feels too discordant.
With willingness though, the Master and Margarita becomes slapstick funny, deeply insightful and quite thought provoking. I think it was crafted so earnestly and carefully, and is well worth reading for anyone wanting an affecting experience. One of the more unique reads that I have encountered, and one that deserves revisiting multiple times.
(As an aside to my own self, a number of reviews suggest that other translations may be superior to this one. Hunt one down before your next reread)...more
I once again find myself slack jawed and perplexed and pondering one of Mieville's tales. I'm never sure I'm quite up to the task, intellectually, to I once again find myself slack jawed and perplexed and pondering one of Mieville's tales. I'm never sure I'm quite up to the task, intellectually, to fully unlayer his stories. I enjoy the challenge, though I sometimes cannot say for sure if he writes with brilliance or grandstanding hubris...and I'm not sure I actually care. His style leaves me both frustrated and salivating: (this is a profanity warning, not so much a spoiler alert)(view spoiler)[
Like a prolific cocksmith, Mieville screws with almost every sentence in his path. The experience can, in turns, be poetically beautiful, arresting, harsh, soothing, or leave you awkwardly contorted and wondering what the hell you just consented to. Sometimes Don Juan, sometimes de Sade. Always a mindfuck. (hide spoiler)]
At the end of my first reading, This Census-Taker is not my favourite of Mieville's stories. Beyond his style, which I can't help but respond to, there is usually some other element that grabs me hard – setting, inventiveness, philosophy. But although the surface story of TCT is darkly evocative, and even knowing damn well that there is a whole under-story hidden within, I just wasn't held as solidly to this one. It wasn't disappointing at all, but I'm not urged to turn around and reread right away. I know I will, eventually, to try to continue to unravel the mystery I know is there.
This was a good hook-up, but not the stuff of legend, this time around....more
"To talk about the bottom of the universe the way it truly is, is no child's play, no task for tongues that gurgle baby-talk"
There are plenty of compreh"To talk about the bottom of the universe the way it truly is, is no child's play, no task for tongues that gurgle baby-talk"
There are plenty of comprehensive, cohesive, thoughtful and humorous reviews already, so I'm not going to bother. This is Not a proper review, just notes for myself:
Dante the character is at a dark time in his life, and is given a chance to walk through the afterlife - from the terrors of hell (the subject of this first canticle), all the way up to heaven - so that he may ? change his ways, and carry the story to the still-living, so that they too may live better lives?...and also, to show that he's a pretty fantastic poet, yo.
My particular translator, Mark Musa, provided a great deal of insight both historically and artistically, and calls out where he deviates from common assumptions and stylistic choices. From browsing some of the other reviews, I can see that there are differences, judging by what stood out to readers. I would at some point like - though I'd need to gear up for it - to spend some time with another translation in concert with this one, and simply compare.
I also feel like this was more of a light, almost voyeuristic read-through (not by it's presentation, by my approach as a reader), and I think I'd like to invest some time with some companion history books, and perhaps some stylistic breakdowns in order to fully appreciate this clearly seminal piece of poetry. (And yet, I'm not in the frame of mind to invest so much energy just now.)
I saw someone (another reviewer) call this a 1300's Burn Book, and it truly is - like Taylor Swift had dated half of history and then written a really long song about it. It's quite fun in that regard - there is an underlying self righteous pettiness that my own cattiness gets an evil chuckle out of.
We've most of us seen many depictions of hell, but I admit that my raised-Catholic brain is usually disappointed by the fire and brimstone clichés, or the desolate loneliness, or the demons flaying flesh. I dunno, I think I've just become desensitized to the more common representations.
Inferno, though. This did not disappoint. Once my brain adjusted to the language and presentation, my imagination was delightfully engaged by all manner of horrors and imaginative punishments...more what I always vaguely imagined a hell would be like, in some regards. Pretty twisty.
I enjoyed this read, but I'm looking forward to something a bit lighter, modern and not poetical. ...more
This book has existed in my periphery for almost 20 years. A theoretically deeper me was enchanted by the mysterious concept, and I had a hope for phi This book has existed in my periphery for almost 20 years. A theoretically deeper me was enchanted by the mysterious concept, and I had a hope for philosophical growth and education. My brain was always too impatient to commit, though, so it became a repeat victim of first-chapter abandonment. Couple that with recurring (and arrogant) annoyance with the extremes of the subcultures that tend to find philosophy deep, grooooovey, spiritually enlightening or best soaked in substance and depression, and, well, I just kept putting the damn book off.
I've finally read it, so...
To love, or not to love...okay honestly, that doesn't always have to BE the question (for me, anyway.) I'm perfectly ok with an unpacked smoosh of reaction. But for the purposes of the unpacking, for the purposes of a review, I guess, it kind of becomes THE question.
Gaarder is clever, and that manifests on every page. The layered meta-adventure is perfectly on point for a novel about philosophy. The more I think about it critically, the more I like it, the more I appreciate the layers and the themes and the slow burn.
Another part of me simply did not connect with the presentation.
In large part it was Sophie herself. An unsatisfied teenager who suddenly begins receiving anonymous deep questions by the post and latches onto the mystery of the lessons that follow, and the new worlds of information they contain...it sounds amazing! But Sophie seems too facile, a caricature. If an erudite middle-aged man was writing his vision of a plucky but difficult 15 year old girl for maybe a 9 year old girl to read about, it would be Sophie. She ultimately becomes too annoying to connect with.
Even in basic simplistic introduction, the history of Western Philosophy is a big topic to cover. Gaarder finds fascinating ways to to work the knowledge into not only the lessons but the stories that surround the lessons, but at times even despite this, it can feel like huge blocks of information dump. I liked it better in the early story, when Sophie was receiving her information in actual typed out lessons. Once she meets Alberto and the teaching becomes conversational, the back-and-forth between the two is frustrating. Sophie's questions are too tailored to the information that Gaarder wants to get across, as opposed to realistic. And her interjections, theoretically to break up the exposition, are grating. She vacillates between impossibly insightful and needlessly attitudinal with no depth of character in between, and the amusement of counting how many variations Gaarder can come with of “yes”, “I see”, “I understand” and “Why is that?', sours in short order.
As the layers of the story become apparent there is an almost sudden shift when Albert seems to abandon the sense of the story HE is telling, and to just use it whimsically instead. I understand why that happens, and I can hypothesize about why it gets as out of control as it does, but I was disappointed from a sense of completion. If Sophie and Alberto's story had been told outside of the layers, it could have had some satisfying conclusions. I kind of wanted to see how it was at least meant to end. I can forgive that, I suppose, in light of the bigger picture, but still be a little put out.
In the end of this muddled unpacking, I am waffling between the disconnect and the clear cleverness of the writing. It is most certainly one of those books that I need to reread – to absorb more of the lessons themselves, obviously, and also to really sink into the novel's meta-layers. And yet, I absolutely balk at the prospect of doing so anytime soon....more
Michelle F
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