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I´ve started with a couple of books. After finishing "the wind up bird chronicle" I have submerged myself right into "kafka on the shore". At the same time I´ve began reading "Sostiene Pereira" by antonio tabucchi.
Some Pessoa, some Adorno and some Conan Doyle (Sherlock Holmes )
Which Adorno work? Read "Minima Moralia" some years ago for grad school. This entailed reading about a dozen fairly disparate works at once, which for me unfortunately resulted in being able to recall little of any, but that one stood out.
Anyone familiar with William T. Vollmann? Never read anything by him, but just started "The Atlas." Seemed a good place to start.
I read all his previous books, this one is my favourite. A bit "softer" so far, even if it's probably going to end with death and depression, as usual with Mr. Houellebecq.
Also:
Slowly reading this as the paintings are absolutely astounding. That precise edition is a work of art by itself, explanations are perfect.
Taking a break from fiction; just started reading "Balthus: A Biography" by Nicholas Fox Weber. Was induced to learn more about him after seeing the Met exhibition last autumn.
Presently reading Flaubert's "L'Éducation sentimentale." Read "Mme Bovary" not too long ago, and finding his prose to be a pleasure to engage with.
Curious to hear anyone's thoughts on him, or if anyone has read "Salammbô" or "Bouvard et Pecuchet"?
"Best" french author, if that does mean something. He thought about every single letter and coma in his texts. I remember analyzing a piece of Mme Bovary in one of the seminars I had in uni, you could decode every word.
Bouvard et Pecuchet would have become his masterpiece if he had finish it. Fun fact, both are rich by inheritance and experiment things without thinking afterward; that kind of figure was exactly what Flaubert hated the most.
I remember analyzing a piece of Mme Bovary in one of the seminars I had in uni, you could decode every word.
I would agree with you. If anyone cares to read this post, I suppose I should say: spoiler alert.
Haven't had as much time to think through 'L'Éducation sentimentale' (and I suspect a better reading would require a more thorough understanding of the French Revolution than I have), but 'Mme Bovary' was revelatory. I've been particularly concerned with the motives for her suicide and with the meaning of the blind beggar (of whom I don't yet feel I have a good enough understanding to presently say much).
Emma is the most compelling static character that I have encountered in a very long time (ever?). The putative motive for her suicide is clear enough, financial ruin. Yet this is insufficient. For one, Emma conducts herself throughout the novel with the studied disregard for money of an aristocrat (like the Vaubyessards - with whom she'll come as close to realizing her idealized vision of life in their brief encounter). Her attitude towards fiscal constraint also informs her relation to her mother-in-law, whose constant exhortations to be more prudent with money are not only an irritant to Emma, but a sign of classlessness.
I think one may venture to say that Emma commits suicide as a result of her inability to render her world intelligible by and for herself. To put it simply(and to keep this post at least kind of short), it may be reasonable to see Emma’s suicide as a metaphor for an absolute abdication of independent thought and reflection. Asides from being static, Emma is an archetypical quixotic character in that she expects reality to conform to the images she encounters in textual form. This is manifested primarily in her received ideas of what love should be, which in turn are the foundation for her initial attraction to Charles, Leon and Rodolphe. All are predicated on a misidentification, a noxiously false premise, insofar as she steadfastly remains detached from their realities (and the same can be said of the three men, by and large). These can in turn be seen as indicative of her involvement with the world at large; Emma evinces an unremitting incapacity to engage dialogically with anything outside herself.
I feel like I can't stop until I have read them all + completed my Murakami shelf in my bookcase
Both are great. I just got Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage, his newest book (which was released yesterday here), and it’s off to a good start too. Nice book.
In retrospective, I’d say Hard-boiled wonderland is my favourite. And of course Norwegian Wood, for the hopeless Romantic in me.
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