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paulofbooks's review against another edition
3.0
Damn funny ~ Damn pretty ~ takes you along through a plotless, cloudy story, giving you a uniquely clear literary experience. Delicious overall.
tornadoally's review against another edition
4.0
What a beautifully odd book. There's no real plot, and because of that I didn't feel a huge pull to read it (evidenced by how long it took me to finish it), but whenever I did sit down to read I realized I was really enjoying myself. Dyer's writing style is fantastic and so descriptive while narrating the most mundane of moments that they feel worthy of being written down. Reading this book is like stepping in and out of someone else's memories.
ohona's review against another edition
4.0
Geoff Dyer's The Colour of Memory is the perfect book for rainy afternoons. There is no plot, which seems slightly off-putting at first; but the almost musical quality of Dyer's prose more than makes up for it. I was unsure about this one at first, but it left me with a most pleasant, warm and fuzzy feeling.
asuph's review against another edition
4.0
How does one review a book like this that has virtually no "story", although it's classified as fiction? But then Geoff Dyer is hardly about plot/story. And in that sense, it's exactly what we Geoff Dyer fans would expect. Plus, this one seems much more "natural", unlike some of his other fictional works which although still carrying the similar ingredients, seem forced -- the characters seem orchestrated/manipulated by the author, not real characters, more archetypes. Here the characters seem entirely on their own doing exactly what they would be doing, despite what the author wanted them to do/be. Peppered with bites of wisdom that you come to expect from Dyer after reading him for a while, it's a nice read -- a quick peak into the lives of "others".
In the end, the narrator asks: "what will remains of us", a question Dyer has mulled over in a separate article as well, and The Colour of Memory is really an attempt at answering it, even though not quite.
In the end, the narrator asks: "what will remains of us", a question Dyer has mulled over in a separate article as well, and The Colour of Memory is really an attempt at answering it, even though not quite.
stargirlcaraway's review against another edition
4.0
Yet again I deeply enjoyed a book where not much actually happens!
I read this one because months and months ago I did a google search for books like A Little Life and this one was suggested. I can definitely see why. I had made the search because I wanted another book that would rip my heart out as much as that one did, but what I didn't realize was that I also wanted another taste of the friendship in A Little Life.
The Colour of Memory isn't sad at all really, but at the core of it is a group of friends-- a group of 4 witty, spontaneous, intellectual, artistic, lazy, epicurean, broke, aimless 20-somethings. They're just so fun and interesting to hang out with that I couldn't feel bored at any point. Every chapter is just a snapshot of their lives together in Brixton in the 80's. They go to bars, parties, the pool, each other's houses. They have jobs, on and off, but mainly they just enjoy each other's company and get high/drunk.
It's a really sweet book, and I saw a lot of myself woven throughout it. It just had this really earnest, unpretentious quality that I loved. So many achingly tender descriptions, so much humanity. *chef's kiss*
I don't have anything smart to say about this book (do I ever, about any book?). Mostly it was just something that felt written for me. I want a group of cool artistic friends who will hang out on the roof of my apartment building, reading and talking while I paint at an easel on the most beautiful summer evening. It was a very indulgent read. Plus there were tons of black people in this book, which was surprising and awesome.
I read this one because months and months ago I did a google search for books like A Little Life and this one was suggested. I can definitely see why. I had made the search because I wanted another book that would rip my heart out as much as that one did, but what I didn't realize was that I also wanted another taste of the friendship in A Little Life.
The Colour of Memory isn't sad at all really, but at the core of it is a group of friends-- a group of 4 witty, spontaneous, intellectual, artistic, lazy, epicurean, broke, aimless 20-somethings. They're just so fun and interesting to hang out with that I couldn't feel bored at any point. Every chapter is just a snapshot of their lives together in Brixton in the 80's. They go to bars, parties, the pool, each other's houses. They have jobs, on and off, but mainly they just enjoy each other's company and get high/drunk.
It's a really sweet book, and I saw a lot of myself woven throughout it. It just had this really earnest, unpretentious quality that I loved. So many achingly tender descriptions, so much humanity. *chef's kiss*
I don't have anything smart to say about this book (do I ever, about any book?). Mostly it was just something that felt written for me. I want a group of cool artistic friends who will hang out on the roof of my apartment building, reading and talking while I paint at an easel on the most beautiful summer evening. It was a very indulgent read. Plus there were tons of black people in this book, which was surprising and awesome.
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