I knew Ursula Le Guin was interested in Taoism : one only has to read “The Left Hand of Darkness” (https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...), her EartI knew Ursula Le Guin was interested in Taoism : one only has to read “The Left Hand of Darkness” (https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...), her Earthsea stories (https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...), or even “The Dispossessed” (https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...) to see an ever-present underlying theme of balance, of difference and unity – and of compassion. But I had no idea she had actually written an English version of the “Tao Te Ching” until Saturday, when I was idly browsing the Buddhism section of a book store. I didn’t even catch it: my husband saw it and handed it to me. Obviously, I bought it, because, you know, Ursula Le Guin is one of my heroes and two of the above-mentioned books are works that have changed my life. If there was any version of the Tao that I was going to read, it was definitely going to be this one.
I had never read the “Tao Te Ching” before, which, considering I was raised by hippies, hung out with a bunch of esoterica enthusiasts for years, and have been practising Soto Zen for a while, is a bit surprising. But I guess I was just waiting for the perfect version of it to find its way into my hands (thank you, Jason!).
For each “chapter”, Le Guin added little notes, which she says are “idiosyncratic and unscholarly” and entirely her own personal reactions and ideas about the text. She says in the introduction that they can be ignored, but I found they really added depth to my experience of the text, refined the words on the page, and of course, gave me glimpses into the amazing lady’s mind. Le Guin’s turn of phrase is elegant, but also full of humour, and never ponderous.
The text’s emphasis on self-mastery, humility and moderation is an inspiring and gentle philosophy, that while not always directly applicable in the world, should be contemplated carefully. A lot of this, when looked at lucidly, is common sense and a sane perspective on living. In the crazy world we live in, we could all use that from time to time. This is definitely the kind of book that benefits from multiple reads, or oven opening it at a random page at one’s leisure. It might be short and quick to read, but it ought to be digested slowly....more
Let’s make one thing clear here: this is described everywhere as Rilke’s only novel, but I would never have called this book a novel. The loosely connLet’s make one thing clear here: this is described everywhere as Rilke’s only novel, but I would never have called this book a novel. The loosely connected vignettes that make up this little tome are presented as the reflections that Malte Laurids Brigge put down on paper while living in Paris. They sound and feel like a journal, like the dream-like stream of thoughts people write down when they don’t think anyone will read their words. As such, it is a simple collections of ideas, remembrances, observations, wistful longings and fantasies – but it is not a novel. It has no real structure, no plot to properly speak of. But it captures not only Rilke’s amazing gift with words, but also the feelings of alienation, loneliness and isolation of a depressed man, living alone, in a beautiful but strange city far from his home.
I made the mistake of reading it like a novel. After “Letters to a Young Poet” (https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...), I really should have known better and just left it on my nightstand, to read in little sips at the end of each day for a week or two – and not in great gulps, like the glutton I am.
Rilke also lived in Paris, and just like his alter ego, he was a lonely man with a fragile health, prone to melancholy, so it’s easy to assume he poured a lot of himself into these “notebooks”. The writing has a fever-dream quality to it sometimes, which makes it beautiful but also opaque: it is hard to know what is going on behind the words.
As a novel, therefore, “The Notebooks” fails, but as an exercise of style and introspection, it is a tantalizing glimpse into the mind of a remarkable poet. ...more
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