9 posts tagged “suicide”
I would never have picked this one up on my own. My book club chose it. After my initial resistance, I became absorbed in the story. If you have an appreciation for Gothic literature, you'll probably really enjoy this one.
The characters, while somewhat two-dimensional, are still fascinating in their personalities that range from well-meaning (but clueless) to all out psychotic.
One of the best aspects of the book is in how direct dialogue from two of the characters is limited. It lends an extra eerie quality to the story.
I would also recommend this book because it's one of the least predictable stories I've read in quite a while. I did figure out the "twist" shortly before it was revealed, and some in the book club felt it was contrived, but it's creative, so I can look past how unlikely it was.
The characters, while somewhat two-dimensional, are still fascinating in their personalities that range from well-meaning (but clueless) to all out psychotic.
One of the best aspects of the book is in how direct dialogue from two of the characters is limited. It lends an extra eerie quality to the story.
I would also recommend this book because it's one of the least predictable stories I've read in quite a while. I did figure out the "twist" shortly before it was revealed, and some in the book club felt it was contrived, but it's creative, so I can look past how unlikely it was.
This was my second book by Murakami. I picked this one up for two reasons. First it's his most popular book in Japan and the book that created his notoriety. Second, it's the only book he wrote that is straight-forward. He said in an interview that his reason for writing this book was to see if he could write a story without magical realism.
This book gave me a better feel for Murakami. In the future if someone asks which book to start with I'll recommend this one.
As in Kafka on the Shore I had a really hard time believing in the characters (they all feel like the same person to me) and caring for them (they feel two-dimensional).
The part that really didn't work was Murakami, a man, writing about female sexual experiences. It just didn't ring true at all. Just one example: two women had sex with one particular man and it was so good they swore off sex for the rest of their lives.
But, as in the previous book, I did appreciate the overarching story. What would it be like to continually know people close to you committing suicide? Or to continually be involved in three-way friendships?
This book gave me a better feel for Murakami. In the future if someone asks which book to start with I'll recommend this one.
As in Kafka on the Shore I had a really hard time believing in the characters (they all feel like the same person to me) and caring for them (they feel two-dimensional).
The part that really didn't work was Murakami, a man, writing about female sexual experiences. It just didn't ring true at all. Just one example: two women had sex with one particular man and it was so good they swore off sex for the rest of their lives.
But, as in the previous book, I did appreciate the overarching story. What would it be like to continually know people close to you committing suicide? Or to continually be involved in three-way friendships?
Housekeeping does not have much in the way of plot, but it certainly is haunting. It is rightly considered a modern classic for its beautiful, poetic language.
I love the title of this book too. We have so many underlying notions about that word--many of those preconceptions come up in this book.
I kept thinking of The Secret Life of Bees (a book I particularly loathe) while reading this. In that book the main characters are also females in a situation that is a bit out of the mainstream, but that's where the similarity ends. Housekeeping is powerful where the other book is cheesy. This book deals with loneliness, expectation, and waiting and results in with a life-usually-does-not-give-you-what-you-expect ending. The Secret Life of Bees has an everything-works-out-in-the-end-if-you-just-believe-hard-enough ending.
Generally, books about women with female characters and a domestic plot line are more like Secret Life of Bees. I am glad Marilynne Robinson was able to give us something else.
I love the title of this book too. We have so many underlying notions about that word--many of those preconceptions come up in this book.
I kept thinking of The Secret Life of Bees (a book I particularly loathe) while reading this. In that book the main characters are also females in a situation that is a bit out of the mainstream, but that's where the similarity ends. Housekeeping is powerful where the other book is cheesy. This book deals with loneliness, expectation, and waiting and results in with a life-usually-does-not-give-you-what-you-expect ending. The Secret Life of Bees has an everything-works-out-in-the-end-if-you-just-believe-hard-enough ending.
Generally, books about women with female characters and a domestic plot line are more like Secret Life of Bees. I am glad Marilynne Robinson was able to give us something else.
The Book Thief is by no means a feel-good book. It's hard to imagine a book about Nazi Germany could be anything but depressing. Throw in the fact that the book is narrated by Death, and you can understand why so many people say they cried their way through the last part of this book.
When I think about books and movies about the Holocaust I think of the stories being told from the point of view of the Jewish citizens mostly. It makes sense, as they were obviously the ones who suffered the most. But this book made me question that assumption a bit.
The family in this this story are not those in the concentration camps, not those hiding in an attic, not the Nazis themselves. They are just ordinary, average citizens living in Nazi Germany.
I have often wondered what it would have been like to see people being marched to death camps and others being whipped in the streets. How could those people have gone along with it all? Take a pinch of conformity, a dash of fear, and bake it really slowly. That's how it can happen.
Some have said Death as narrator is a bit hokey or pretentious, but really it's rather inspired. Who else could be an objective narrator of such a tale?
When I think about books and movies about the Holocaust I think of the stories being told from the point of view of the Jewish citizens mostly. It makes sense, as they were obviously the ones who suffered the most. But this book made me question that assumption a bit.
The family in this this story are not those in the concentration camps, not those hiding in an attic, not the Nazis themselves. They are just ordinary, average citizens living in Nazi Germany.
I have often wondered what it would have been like to see people being marched to death camps and others being whipped in the streets. How could those people have gone along with it all? Take a pinch of conformity, a dash of fear, and bake it really slowly. That's how it can happen.
Some have said Death as narrator is a bit hokey or pretentious, but really it's rather inspired. Who else could be an objective narrator of such a tale?
The fascinating thing about Madame Bovary is, well, Madame Bovary. Is she a sympathetic but flawed character, or is she a cruel and selfish woman?
Emma Bovary's main problem is that she believes money will end all her problems. But then most people today hold that same false belief.
I think how a person relates to this character says a lot about who he/she is.
It's sort of a damned-if-you-do-damned-if-you-don't kind of question though.
On one hand, if you sympathize with her you have to admit that you understand such a heightened level of egoism and self-delusion.
But if you don't sympathize with her it feels a bit sexist since it was a repressive, patriarchal class structure that undoubtedly created women similar to this fictional woman.
I'm still trying to figure out what I think of the character of Madame Bovary, but what I found particularly engaging about this book was its narrative form. I bet one could take a whole class on what Flaubert did with the narrative in just this one book.
One thing I can say with certainty is that my heart has never broken so much for a character as it did for the equally flawed Charles Bovary. I wonder what that says about me?
Emma Bovary's main problem is that she believes money will end all her problems. But then most people today hold that same false belief.
I think how a person relates to this character says a lot about who he/she is.
It's sort of a damned-if-you-do-damned-if-you-don't kind of question though.
On one hand, if you sympathize with her you have to admit that you understand such a heightened level of egoism and self-delusion.
But if you don't sympathize with her it feels a bit sexist since it was a repressive, patriarchal class structure that undoubtedly created women similar to this fictional woman.
I'm still trying to figure out what I think of the character of Madame Bovary, but what I found particularly engaging about this book was its narrative form. I bet one could take a whole class on what Flaubert did with the narrative in just this one book.
One thing I can say with certainty is that my heart has never broken so much for a character as it did for the equally flawed Charles Bovary. I wonder what that says about me?
In college I was taking a philosophy class and happened to watch the movie Trigger Effect. It's not a memorable movie but it stunned me because I was absorbed in trying to understand Hobbes's State of Nature. Suddenly it all made sense. I wonder if some student out there is having the same experience with this book. (The Road is vastly superior to Trigger Effect in case you're wondering.)
But the fact that society is based on two things: people and trust--that's the same message in all three. Of course, that led to all kinds of thoughts about how I live in a place with three main rules: never admit you're wrong, take as much as you can from everyone in every situation, and patience is a vice. And I wondered just how close Connecticut is to full on cannibalism.
OK, my personal nightmares aside, I did find this book haunting. I have been thinking about things--birds and food and aspirin and the general point of life--for days now in a new light.
But the ending...I don't think this book could have an adequate end. There's no point if the characters die, right? And if everything works out in the end it's just a cheesy cliche. I think the author did the best he could in light of this horrible corner he painted himself into, but the ending just didn't quite work for me.
But the fact that society is based on two things: people and trust--that's the same message in all three. Of course, that led to all kinds of thoughts about how I live in a place with three main rules: never admit you're wrong, take as much as you can from everyone in every situation, and patience is a vice. And I wondered just how close Connecticut is to full on cannibalism.
OK, my personal nightmares aside, I did find this book haunting. I have been thinking about things--birds and food and aspirin and the general point of life--for days now in a new light.
But the ending...I don't think this book could have an adequate end. There's no point if the characters die, right? And if everything works out in the end it's just a cheesy cliche. I think the author did the best he could in light of this horrible corner he painted himself into, but the ending just didn't quite work for me.
Instead of reading the next book on my list I read Story of the Eye. It's on the 1001 book list and only a hundred pages. My main impetus was to read something quick.
I can definitely see why people were shocked back in 1928.
One thing struck me. I have never heard of a murderous egg fetish.
The rest of it was just unpleasant--rape, insanity, blasphemy, murder, golden showers, suicide--but not indescribable.
The egg thing. That's unique. Sick, but unique.
I can definitely see why people were shocked back in 1928.
One thing struck me. I have never heard of a murderous egg fetish.
The rest of it was just unpleasant--rape, insanity, blasphemy, murder, golden showers, suicide--but not indescribable.
The egg thing. That's unique. Sick, but unique.
Ethan Frome is often described as bleak, depressing, and even unbelievable.
It's definitely a tragedy.
Maybe it's because I moved to New England eight years ago, but I could really relate to the desolate feeling winter backdrop of this story. The weather frames the sadness perfectly.
Everyone in this book loses out. Life, hope, happiness it all goes away. But in spite of that, the book is somehow not as depressing as I had expected.
It is also filled with suspense. And it perfectly describes what it's like to want someone you can't have.
I would say it is the most touching, "sad book" I've ever read.
It's definitely a tragedy.
Maybe it's because I moved to New England eight years ago, but I could really relate to the desolate feeling winter backdrop of this story. The weather frames the sadness perfectly.
Everyone in this book loses out. Life, hope, happiness it all goes away. But in spite of that, the book is somehow not as depressing as I had expected.
It is also filled with suspense. And it perfectly describes what it's like to want someone you can't have.
I would say it is the most touching, "sad book" I've ever read.
This book would go on my list of top ten books that I did not enjoy.
Perhaps I just did not get this one, but it seemed pretentious at best.
A book with basically one character who sits in place and complains for 156 pages is pretty much torture.
The author wrote the whole book as one long paragraph which only added to the sigh factor.
Sure there were four or five good lines in the book, but there was a lot of suffering otherwise.
Geez, now I'm starting to sound like the man in the book...
Perhaps I just did not get this one, but it seemed pretentious at best.
A book with basically one character who sits in place and complains for 156 pages is pretty much torture.
The author wrote the whole book as one long paragraph which only added to the sigh factor.
Sure there were four or five good lines in the book, but there was a lot of suffering otherwise.
Geez, now I'm starting to sound like the man in the book...
