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4.01 AVERAGE
4.01 AVERAGE
Finally getting a chance to opine on this one—there is quite a lot to dig into. Bear in mind that although I’m giving it a high rating, it may not be for you. This book is dense and took me quite a long time to get through. But if you have a thing for hard literature, rich with ruminations on life, love, death, sickness, war, the political and the personal, then that’s exactly what you’re in for.
The story begins with a young man, Hans Castorp, going up to a sanatorium in the Swiss Alps to visit his cousin. Once there, he is convinced to stay—ultimately (we are told early on) for seven years.
There is an element of romance. He meets someone, falls in love, reflects on old love, and experiences all the feelings that come with love. His love fills him with a sense of purpose, a reason to come to life and to look forward to lunch every day. No spoilers—there may or may not be heartbreak as well.
There is an element of mystery. We don’t know exactly what’s going on at the sanatorium, why people stay so long, or what treatments—medical and psychological—are being tested behind closed doors.
There is an element of the philosophical. Two characters seem to spend most of their time sparring over whether hope remains for humanity, in discussions that seem to reflect the author’s thoughts on what led Europe to war. Admittedly I found these passages to be the most difficult to get through. A reader familiar with European history, especially after World War I, might find them witty and intriguing, but others will likely find them rather dense.
There is an element of the psychological. Many theories were emerging around this time regarding the subconscious mind, and Mann seems to have wanted to put them under his literary microscope:
Lastly, there is an excellent passage on the death of one character. Death, or at least what we would call end-of-life planning, is deeply personal and thus still somewhat taboo to discuss in western society. But Mann paints a remarkable picture.
A character lies ill, in what we would call hospice. He grows weaker, his breathing is strained, and he is eventually bedbound. Soon he is barely awake, and those close to him remain at his side. He wakes up briefly, apparently experiencing terminal lucidity, insisting that he feels fine and would like to return to his work. That evening, he closes his eyes for the last time.
There is much more. It’s obviously not a casual read and may take you some time to get through. (Hopefully not seven years.) But if it’s the kind of challenging work you like to read, I think you will find the Magic Mountain worth your time. Like any mountain, the glory is in the climb.
The story begins with a young man, Hans Castorp, going up to a sanatorium in the Swiss Alps to visit his cousin. Once there, he is convinced to stay—ultimately (we are told early on) for seven years.
There is an element of romance. He meets someone, falls in love, reflects on old love, and experiences all the feelings that come with love. His love fills him with a sense of purpose, a reason to come to life and to look forward to lunch every day. No spoilers—there may or may not be heartbreak as well.
There is an element of mystery. We don’t know exactly what’s going on at the sanatorium, why people stay so long, or what treatments—medical and psychological—are being tested behind closed doors.
There is an element of the philosophical. Two characters seem to spend most of their time sparring over whether hope remains for humanity, in discussions that seem to reflect the author’s thoughts on what led Europe to war. Admittedly I found these passages to be the most difficult to get through. A reader familiar with European history, especially after World War I, might find them witty and intriguing, but others will likely find them rather dense.
There is an element of the psychological. Many theories were emerging around this time regarding the subconscious mind, and Mann seems to have wanted to put them under his literary microscope:
“[The Doctor’s] researches, dedicated to the psychic dissection and the dream life of his patients, had always had a subterranean character, the whiff of the catacomb.
“His field of study has always been concerned with those dark, vast regions of the human soul that are called the subconscious, although one would perhaps do better to speak of the superconscious, since there are occasions when the knowledge that rises up from these regions exceeds an individual’s conscious knowledge.”
Lastly, there is an excellent passage on the death of one character. Death, or at least what we would call end-of-life planning, is deeply personal and thus still somewhat taboo to discuss in western society. But Mann paints a remarkable picture.
A character lies ill, in what we would call hospice. He grows weaker, his breathing is strained, and he is eventually bedbound. Soon he is barely awake, and those close to him remain at his side. He wakes up briefly, apparently experiencing terminal lucidity, insisting that he feels fine and would like to return to his work. That evening, he closes his eyes for the last time.
There is much more. It’s obviously not a casual read and may take you some time to get through. (Hopefully not seven years.) But if it’s the kind of challenging work you like to read, I think you will find the Magic Mountain worth your time. Like any mountain, the glory is in the climb.
challenging
reflective
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
challenging
mysterious
reflective
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Plot
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
I feel like no review I write will be able to do Thomas Mann and this great novel justice, so I’ll try to keep this brief and really only reflect on my own reading experience. Finishing this novel has to be one of my most rewarding experiences because reading this novel was one of the most frustrating experiences. Some days I could only read (or keep re-reading) ten pages in order to try and fully understand the dense language/conversations taking place between characters. Other days I could read whole chapters with ease as the life of Hans Castrop moved along at the sanatorium. I think it’s because I faced so many intellectual challenges as I went through this novel that I appreciated it so much. It presented me with a lot of new ideas to consider, particularly about the nature of time, illness, religion, and war. Mann address all these themes, and more, as they relate to one another and as they function independently in our society.
This absolutely is a book I see myself coming back to in a few years. I think it’s a novel that will bring about new ideas after each read. Preferably I would read this with a friend next time though so that I have someone to think and talk things through as I go along. I am already looking forward to my next visit to the Magic Mountain.
This absolutely is a book I see myself coming back to in a few years. I think it’s a novel that will bring about new ideas after each read. Preferably I would read this with a friend next time though so that I have someone to think and talk things through as I go along. I am already looking forward to my next visit to the Magic Mountain.
First long read of the year. Very much enjoyed the first several hundred pages... then was quite ready to terminate my stay on the Magic Mountain (though the unexpected last minute excursion into more occult realms had me briefly reconsidering). I just really struggle with German lit. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Ladies and gentlemen, we have a contestant for the spot of my absolute favorite novel. The judgment is only being withheld due to the fact that I currently don't have a review for [b:Of Human Bondage|31548|Of Human Bondage|W. Somerset Maugham|https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1386924695s/31548.jpg|2547187], so no accurate comparison can be made as of yet. However. It must be said that if the previous book gave me hope for the human condition, this one explosively revitalized my admiration for the human ideal.
Few people write like this nowadays. Most don't appreciate their world and its myriad ideas and opinions, the sheer amount of conflicting diatribes created by the force of the human brain. If they do, rarely do they make the effort to take on this overwhelming amount of information and distill it down into a message for the future. There's no snapshot of the world at hand that is absolutely gorgeous in what it conveys to the reader, both in quantity and in quality. In light of that, I now have an answer for the which-book-would-you-take-on-a-deserted-island question, as I know for a fact that I could reread this book every day till the day I die, and I'd never not find something new to contemplate and stand in awe of.
This is the well-to-do of Europe before the Great War, living off of old money in a state of pure contentment that, were it not for sheer boredom, would accomplish next to nothing. It is this boredom, this monster titled 'Stupor' referenced in the pages, that forces our man Hans Castorp to distract himself in shifting fashions that model the ever changing obsessions of the continent, from science to political discourse to religious rantings to mystical meanderings. The institution goes through throes of obsession that closely model the 'flatland' from which its denizens came; so too does the violent undercurrent that begins to overwhelm Europe resemble the ever increasing ferocity between those who were formerly combatants solely in the intellectual realm.
The question must be posed: would Hans have ever returned to the world outside of institutional walls, had the War never occurred? Boredom may be a tiresome thing, but would it have been enough to convince him to leave the nest, where time is compartmentalized, stretched, and finally completely ignored into oblivion? Or would he have hung around till his own death, when his excuse for staying finally takes his life, and he is removed from reality in as quiet and unobtrusive a fashion as his ill comrades had been before him? Now, take that question, and apply it to Europe as a whole. What do you see? There's a question for the ages, if ever there was one.
And to tie in to the other wonderful side to the coin: of course the book can't detail absolutely everything worth passing down, but it offers much food for thought, thereby giving the tools required to take on the questions it leaves open-ended in its wake.I could go on. But I will save space for further re-readings, when the fervor is once again fresh and I have more immediate recollection under my belt to spout out. One last thing: books like these are why I read as much as I do. You find a gem like this, and you can't go back.
Few people write like this nowadays. Most don't appreciate their world and its myriad ideas and opinions, the sheer amount of conflicting diatribes created by the force of the human brain. If they do, rarely do they make the effort to take on this overwhelming amount of information and distill it down into a message for the future. There's no snapshot of the world at hand that is absolutely gorgeous in what it conveys to the reader, both in quantity and in quality. In light of that, I now have an answer for the which-book-would-you-take-on-a-deserted-island question, as I know for a fact that I could reread this book every day till the day I die, and I'd never not find something new to contemplate and stand in awe of.
This is the well-to-do of Europe before the Great War, living off of old money in a state of pure contentment that, were it not for sheer boredom, would accomplish next to nothing. It is this boredom, this monster titled 'Stupor' referenced in the pages, that forces our man Hans Castorp to distract himself in shifting fashions that model the ever changing obsessions of the continent, from science to political discourse to religious rantings to mystical meanderings. The institution goes through throes of obsession that closely model the 'flatland' from which its denizens came; so too does the violent undercurrent that begins to overwhelm Europe resemble the ever increasing ferocity between those who were formerly combatants solely in the intellectual realm.
The question must be posed: would Hans have ever returned to the world outside of institutional walls, had the War never occurred? Boredom may be a tiresome thing, but would it have been enough to convince him to leave the nest, where time is compartmentalized, stretched, and finally completely ignored into oblivion? Or would he have hung around till his own death, when his excuse for staying finally takes his life, and he is removed from reality in as quiet and unobtrusive a fashion as his ill comrades had been before him? Now, take that question, and apply it to Europe as a whole. What do you see? There's a question for the ages, if ever there was one.
And to tie in to the other wonderful side to the coin: of course the book can't detail absolutely everything worth passing down, but it offers much food for thought, thereby giving the tools required to take on the questions it leaves open-ended in its wake.
Spoiler
On a more minor note, what happens to Hans? Either he goes along, continuing to 'play king' with his trains of thought honed inside the 'Magic Mountain', or all his questions are answered in regards to death and the end of all things. Either path is a happy ending, in my opinion. Even nothing is an answer, and would be no more than an extended rest cure, only more final and everlasting than the others.
reflective
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
No
emotional
mysterious
reflective
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes