Scan barcode
lizawall's review against another edition
4.0
Here is a long quote, and maybe I am wrong to do this because it comes near the end, but so be it:
"We talked about the deserted, soundless month of August. For weeks, said Michael, there is not a bird to be seen. It is as if everything was somehow hollowed out. Everything is on the point of decline, and only the weeds flourish: bindweed strangles the shrubs, the yellow roots of nettles creep onward in the soil, burdock stands a whole head taller than oneself, brown rot and greenfly are everywhere, and even sheets of paper on which one endeavours to put together a few words and sentences seem covered in mildew. For days and weeks on end one racks one's brains to no avail, and, if asked, one could not say whether one goes on writing purely out of habit, or a craving for admiration, or because one knows not how to do anything other, or out of sheer wonderment, despair or outrage, any more than one could say whether writing renders one more perceptive or more insane. Perhaps we all lose our sense of reality to the precise degree to which we are engrossed in our own work, and perhaps that is why we see in the increasing complexity of our mental constructs a means for greater understanding, even while we intuitively know that we shall never be able to fathom the imponderables that govern our course through life."
And, on the same page: "Across what distances in time do the elective affinities and correspondences connect? How is it that one perceives oneself in another human being, or, if not oneself, then one's own precursor."
"We talked about the deserted, soundless month of August. For weeks, said Michael, there is not a bird to be seen. It is as if everything was somehow hollowed out. Everything is on the point of decline, and only the weeds flourish: bindweed strangles the shrubs, the yellow roots of nettles creep onward in the soil, burdock stands a whole head taller than oneself, brown rot and greenfly are everywhere, and even sheets of paper on which one endeavours to put together a few words and sentences seem covered in mildew. For days and weeks on end one racks one's brains to no avail, and, if asked, one could not say whether one goes on writing purely out of habit, or a craving for admiration, or because one knows not how to do anything other, or out of sheer wonderment, despair or outrage, any more than one could say whether writing renders one more perceptive or more insane. Perhaps we all lose our sense of reality to the precise degree to which we are engrossed in our own work, and perhaps that is why we see in the increasing complexity of our mental constructs a means for greater understanding, even while we intuitively know that we shall never be able to fathom the imponderables that govern our course through life."
And, on the same page: "Across what distances in time do the elective affinities and correspondences connect? How is it that one perceives oneself in another human being, or, if not oneself, then one's own precursor."
janiswong's review
mysterious
reflective
relaxing
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
4.25
A beautifully written reflective book. It really took me to a different mental space and I felt a lot of nostalgia for my time in Scotland walking along the east coast. I really enjoyed the ending and how the treads are pulled together in full circle. Definitely one to read again in the future as there will be new nuggets found each time.
meg_dyer's review against another edition
challenging
dark
emotional
informative
reflective
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? N/A
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.75
nikiolas's review against another edition
adventurous
challenging
inspiring
mysterious
reflective
relaxing
slow-paced
5.0
casparb's review against another edition
5.0
Watched Grant Gee's film (Patience) about this before reading which I'd recommend. Wonderful 4.5. A brilliant piece a novel that honeycombs quincuncially. Am I reeling? For herring?
I want to map it out - put it in an MRI machine perhaps. I love the brain that unfolded this. I think it works because of the morbidity Sebald operates with. Fish, silk, Bergen-Belsen. It is more than under the skin.
This is really one where I'll take time to put thoughts together. The encounter, pure, here. Love the temporality! The images! Their sequencing. I feel I'll enjoy this more the better I know it.
I want to map it out - put it in an MRI machine perhaps. I love the brain that unfolded this. I think it works because of the morbidity Sebald operates with. Fish, silk, Bergen-Belsen. It is more than under the skin.
This is really one where I'll take time to put thoughts together. The encounter, pure, here. Love the temporality! The images! Their sequencing. I feel I'll enjoy this more the better I know it.
cartendole's review against another edition
challenging
informative
reflective
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
2.0
kingofblades113's review
informative
mysterious
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? N/A
- Strong character development? N/A
5.0
antennaclasses's review against another edition
4.25
The learning curve to read this book (as in, learning how to read this book) is actually so high it gave me headaches. In the beginning it all seemed to blur together until I got to the Casement and Hamburger episodes; from then on it felt like Sebald's literary methods gained stakes. Slowly the progression of sentiments in the book became clearer as well. It's a story which seeks to gauge the importance of its existence as it's being told, distilling a millennium's worth of history to amplify the immediate relationships at the heart of it. Just be sure to have a coffee before you read.
amurray914's review against another edition
4.0
This was a very original, unusual and captivating book and my first venture into Sebald. The narrator takes us on a walking tour around Suffolk county on the east coast of England, while giving us a history lesson in related local and foreign events and sharing with us his inner thoughts and reflections. The text is interspersed with bad grainy photos, which makes the whole experience very sureal. He finds a seamless way of bridging between his perception of the physical surroundings and his musings on historical topics, whether it’s the decline of the local seaside economy, Sir Thomas Browne’s skull, Joseph Conrad and Roger Casement, the demise of the local herring industry, or sericulture in Norwich. His diversity of topics is never muddled and Sebald finds a natural almost dreamlike way to beautifully transition from one topic to the next. It’s almost like a tour of his mind.
His central theme seems to be somewhat nostalgic and poignant, one of decay, nothing is permanent and ultimately everything dies:
“ ... nothing endures, in Thomas Browne’s view. On every new thing there lies already the shadow of annihilation. ... There is no antidote, he writes, against the opium of time ... Dunwich, with its towers and many thousand souls, has dissolved into water, sand and thin air.”
Sebald’s lyrical prose has a poetic ring to it and is some of the most enjoyable I have read in a long time.
“And yet, what would we be without memory? We would not be capable of ordering even the simplest thoughts, the most sensitive heart would lose the ability to show affection, our existence would be a mere never-ending chain of meaningless moments, and there would not be the faintest trace of a past.”
I really enjoyed this book. Despite the unusual narrative and seemingly endless range of topics, I was fully immersed and never bored. It just naturally flows. Highly recommended.
His central theme seems to be somewhat nostalgic and poignant, one of decay, nothing is permanent and ultimately everything dies:
“ ... nothing endures, in Thomas Browne’s view. On every new thing there lies already the shadow of annihilation. ... There is no antidote, he writes, against the opium of time ... Dunwich, with its towers and many thousand souls, has dissolved into water, sand and thin air.”
Sebald’s lyrical prose has a poetic ring to it and is some of the most enjoyable I have read in a long time.
“And yet, what would we be without memory? We would not be capable of ordering even the simplest thoughts, the most sensitive heart would lose the ability to show affection, our existence would be a mere never-ending chain of meaningless moments, and there would not be the faintest trace of a past.”
I really enjoyed this book. Despite the unusual narrative and seemingly endless range of topics, I was fully immersed and never bored. It just naturally flows. Highly recommended.