Yes, such is the frailty of man, that even there, where he has the greatest consciousness of his own being, where he makes the strongest and most forcYes, such is the frailty of man, that even there, where he has the greatest consciousness of his own being, where he makes the strongest and most forcible impression, even in the memory, in the heart of his beloved, there also he must perish,—vanish,—and that quickly.
It is often difficult to parse someone becoming unhinged in an epistolary novel. It is at the point of dissolution that the reader is forced to accept that the ongoing narrative is actually what someone in such straits would be able to emote through writing. I give Goethe a pass, he was Goethe after all. The next great German would hug a horse and he didn't write many letters, those he did he signed The Crucified.
This was a cautionary tale. Like the Quixote--we learn that reading too many books softens the faculties. One then shouldn't woo women already engaged. Or at least accept the inevitable. I liked the interlude towards the end with the recitation of poetry. Romanticism is shorn of its ideals and forced to kneel in all-too-human failure. ...more
And what is all this life but a kind of comedy, wherein men walk up and down in one another's disguises and act their respective parts, till the propeAnd what is all this life but a kind of comedy, wherein men walk up and down in one another's disguises and act their respective parts, till the property-man brings them back to the attiring house. And yet he often orders a different dress, and makes him that came but just now off in the robes of a king put on the rags of a beggar.
4.173 stars
Before popping a sleeping pill and chugging a Sam Adams I read most of this as our plane headed east across the Atlantic. Donald Trump and John Whittingdale serve to this text's centrality. I awoke and finished the book on foreign shores with an eye to the hegemonic (possibly the GCHQ?) and a love for our all so human failings. This is a must for all lovers of Rabelais and Burton. The musing does become a bit edged towards theology, but overall it is a delightful skewering of our arrogance, our biological exceptionalism, our humble fate as fuckwits....more
We are all reptiles, miserable, sinful creatures. It is piety alone that can distinguish us from the dust whence we sprung, and whither we must returnWe are all reptiles, miserable, sinful creatures. It is piety alone that can distinguish us from the dust whence we sprung, and whither we must return.
The Goodreads reviews of this pioneer work are a caravan of groans; how sophisticated we've since become with our forensics and our shape-shfting (very-meta) protagonists. I may shudder and say, whoa, and allow the blush to fade from our consternation. Otranto is ridiculous, sure, but it is damn charming. Anyone ever encountered a contrivance or laughable twist in the Bard or even Nabokov: the car which killed Charlotte Haze dented our credulity, didn't it? I say onward with the GIANT HELMET! What lurks beneath is but prophesy and paternity. Walpole's book offers little in terms of fear. The pacing and revelation are no more haunting than a production of Hamlet. The notion of it being a "found" medieval text gives it sufficient distance to unnerve our sense of legacy. ...more
Liu Bei replied, I am near my fifth decade and have so far failed to rid the state of evil. I greatly regret my failure. Now I have been accepted by tLiu Bei replied, I am near my fifth decade and have so far failed to rid the state of evil. I greatly regret my failure. Now I have been accepted by the Dowager as her son-in-law, and this is a critical moment in my life. So I implored of Heaven a portent that I might destroy Cao Cao as I would that boulder and restore the dynasty."
Zhuge Liang has made a crucial difference in this epic novel. (note: the typesetting has improved, compared to the first volume but is still subpar. We shan't waste any time on the deplorable maps either.) Much like one Sam Weller in Dickens, the sage advisor Zhuge makes this narrative modern. However, Zhuge similar to GoT's Arya Stark, the reader soon becomes a bit wary around Zhuge, despite his military and metaphysical acumen. ...more
So the cut finger and the blood written decree are all forgotten, eh?
Gentle Reader, I implore you -- if you desire to read the Romance of the Three KiSo the cut finger and the blood written decree are all forgotten, eh?
Gentle Reader, I implore you -- if you desire to read the Romance of the Three Kingdoms to please avoid the budget edition offered by Amazon. Printed on demand, the edition is clumsily formatted and the type-setting is clunky. The paper is cheap. There are but a handful of notes on a text detailing events which occurred in China some 1800 years ago. How could anyone expect the text to be self-understood? Well, Amazon simply doesn't care. They lead you to a wikipedia page and thank you for your purchase.
My two stars refer to the edition not the work per se.
The opening volume of the volume is rather repetitive with forces from similar sounding names routinely routing one another. The periphery of the text harbors the monstrous. It is the instability of the Yellow Turbans which upends the tranquility of the time. What are these riotous forces? Well, such were a series of peasant rebellions. You won't know that from the text and I'm not referring to the author Luo Guanzhong. Famine is also lurking in every chapter. I am fairly livid by this cheap product and I have about 1800 pages to go. ...more
Man was born to live with his fellow human beings. Separate him, isolate him, his character will go bad, a thousand ridiculous affects will invade hisMan was born to live with his fellow human beings. Separate him, isolate him, his character will go bad, a thousand ridiculous affects will invade his heart, extravagant thoughts will germinate in his brain, like thorns in an uncultivated land.
Given the untimely arrival of our Arctic Vortex, it is fitting that The Nun shudders with a frozen despair. Bone chilling mornings are well suited for such guided tours of the dark side. Abandon your preconceptions of the Enlightenment and moral cautionary tales, Diderot's creation is terrifying. Apparently it was a practical joke used to trick a friend to return to Paris from the countryside. The novel takes the form of an escaped nun tracing her history in a lengthy letter about a series of convents, ones where the prevailing theme is obedience. One thinks of Martin Amis, "give some someone absolute control over another and thoughts soon turn to torture." Forget Sade or Huysmans, I was scared shitless by the novel's second Mother Superior: think Martha Stewart as Torquemada. ...more
Only one essential is missing from our happiness--pleasure through comparison, a pleasure which can only be born from the sight of the unhappy, and weOnly one essential is missing from our happiness--pleasure through comparison, a pleasure which can only be born from the sight of the unhappy, and we see none of that breed here It's at the sight of the man who isn't enjoying what I have and who is suffering that I know the charm of being able to say: I am happier than he is. Wherever men are equal and differences do not exist, happiness will never exist.
Following such ill-found advice I am left unable to rate or compare 120 Days of Sodom with anything. I support the publication of all ideas. That said, this is a vacuum, one absolutely bereft of pleasure or value. Steven Moore notes, "the 500 foam flecked pages that survive are admirable only for their balls-out daring." Reading this is the most uncomfortable experience. There is a philosophical undercurrent at play but one obscured by the buggery, shit-eating and torture. As noted in the introduction, the novel was written on a scroll while Sade was imprisoned and presumed lost in the storming of the Bastille. The project is only a third completed, the remaining sections exist only as notes punctuated by horribly explicit accounts. Based on the completed text, I think it fair to not shed any tears over the unwritten detail. ...more
All these different lines and verses combined into a single overpowering impression, riving her soul with a pang of such keen anguish that the tears sAll these different lines and verses combined into a single overpowering impression, riving her soul with a pang of such keen anguish that the tears started from her eyes.
The first volume of Cao Xuequin's The Story of the Stone is appropriately titled The Golden Days, one thinks of robust innocence. While on one level the novel is the story of an affluent family in the Manchu China of the 18th Century, on another it is a philosophical examination into both the personal/existential as well as those issues of cultural heritage. Questions of social justice hover about. There are many allusions cast in the first novel that the family in question is on the verge of ruin. This doesn't diminish their present spending. That said, the supernatural asserts its primacy despite the two main characters. Bao-yu and Dai-yu may have been the Edward and Bella of their particular time, an editorial note alludes to the heated arguments and violence which arose debating the merits of the characters in courtly circles.
The subconscious reigns here in this world or tradition and lavish expenditure. Hexes and lustful fairies follow the protagonists back into the waking world. All the while the focus remains with the pair of teens adjusting to the breaking dawn of adult expectations (sorry for that). ...more
My friends and I read CV Wedgwood's history of the Thirty Year War a few years back I noted that Dame Cicily cited this meandering picaresque a numberMy friends and I read CV Wedgwood's history of the Thirty Year War a few years back I noted that Dame Cicily cited this meandering picaresque a number of times. I read it off and on through a cold spring and felt that it would've benefitted from editing. There a rasher of episodes that claw up in my subconscious from time to time....more
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