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greeniezona's review against another edition
5.0
(review originally written for Bookslut)
Tahar Djaout was assassinated for writing books like The Last Summer of Reason. His words are disconcerting, discomforting, and it's not only the fundamentalist Islamic groups (who have been attributed the responsibility for his death) who should be uneasy, it should be all of us. This book is an elegant argument against the complacency of political correctness that excuses brutal repression in the name of cultural differences. As recent events have all too clearly illustrated, hate allowed to fester anywhere will eventually spill out of those boundaries we thought had contained it.
It's all too easy to let any discussion of this book spill over into politics, because this book is more than a novel. Hopefully someday people will be able to read this book purely for its simple poetic prose, appreciate it just for its finely crafted story. Right now, I find it hard to read it in any other way than as a window into the political climate of our times.
As such The Last Summer of Reason is brilliant and chilling. As I was reading it I kept trying to compare it to dystopian novels like 1984 and Brave New World in my head, but the comparisons didn't quite fit because this is not quite a dystopian novel. Instead of immersing the reader in a futuristic world in which personal freedoms are a thing of the past, it starts fairly innocuously, in a country run by religious fundamentalists, but in which one can still buy and sell controversial books, people could still resist.
What is fascinating about this book is the slow progression of intolerance. What is terrifying about this book is how rarely it is the authorities who enforce the new codes of behavior, but fellow citizens. In the beginning, it is the children, easily molded, who shame their parents into belief. Once the children have converted their parents, they start in on the neighborhood. Suddenly they are the authorities, and they throw rocks and break windows in order to punish those not living up to the image of the perfectly devout. Finally the adults join in, monitoring the behavior of their families, their neighbors, complete strangers.
It is a horrifying thing to watch, a horrifying thing to imagine happening to you, to people you love. It is terrifying to think that this base intolerance must lie in the hearts of all of us, sleeping, waiting for the right time to come out. Somewhere deep inside, are we all the gestapo? Do we all long to enforce our own moral codes onto others? Given someone else's moral codes, would we all just as happily press those onto everyone we know? How long would you resist, if your freedoms were being taken away millimeter by millimeter? How hard would you struggle, if they were not your freedoms being taken away, but your neighbor's? your enemy's?
The Last Summer of Reason is a great book not because it answers such big questions, but because it provokes them. This is a book of our times, and it is later than you think.
Tahar Djaout was assassinated for writing books like The Last Summer of Reason. His words are disconcerting, discomforting, and it's not only the fundamentalist Islamic groups (who have been attributed the responsibility for his death) who should be uneasy, it should be all of us. This book is an elegant argument against the complacency of political correctness that excuses brutal repression in the name of cultural differences. As recent events have all too clearly illustrated, hate allowed to fester anywhere will eventually spill out of those boundaries we thought had contained it.
It's all too easy to let any discussion of this book spill over into politics, because this book is more than a novel. Hopefully someday people will be able to read this book purely for its simple poetic prose, appreciate it just for its finely crafted story. Right now, I find it hard to read it in any other way than as a window into the political climate of our times.
As such The Last Summer of Reason is brilliant and chilling. As I was reading it I kept trying to compare it to dystopian novels like 1984 and Brave New World in my head, but the comparisons didn't quite fit because this is not quite a dystopian novel. Instead of immersing the reader in a futuristic world in which personal freedoms are a thing of the past, it starts fairly innocuously, in a country run by religious fundamentalists, but in which one can still buy and sell controversial books, people could still resist.
What is fascinating about this book is the slow progression of intolerance. What is terrifying about this book is how rarely it is the authorities who enforce the new codes of behavior, but fellow citizens. In the beginning, it is the children, easily molded, who shame their parents into belief. Once the children have converted their parents, they start in on the neighborhood. Suddenly they are the authorities, and they throw rocks and break windows in order to punish those not living up to the image of the perfectly devout. Finally the adults join in, monitoring the behavior of their families, their neighbors, complete strangers.
It is a horrifying thing to watch, a horrifying thing to imagine happening to you, to people you love. It is terrifying to think that this base intolerance must lie in the hearts of all of us, sleeping, waiting for the right time to come out. Somewhere deep inside, are we all the gestapo? Do we all long to enforce our own moral codes onto others? Given someone else's moral codes, would we all just as happily press those onto everyone we know? How long would you resist, if your freedoms were being taken away millimeter by millimeter? How hard would you struggle, if they were not your freedoms being taken away, but your neighbor's? your enemy's?
The Last Summer of Reason is a great book not because it answers such big questions, but because it provokes them. This is a book of our times, and it is later than you think.
kingkong's review against another edition
3.0
Getting assassinated by fanatic extremists for your writing is badass
samugranjo's review against another edition
3.75
I am still not sure how to rate this book because the middle lost me but the first and last third were stunning. Is not the most gripping book but it's worth it for the beautiful phrases the author wrote and the way he talked about books, faith, knowledge, extremism, etc.
This book reads like a dystopia but it also feels very real and recent, and it's not exactly a complete piece.
I think this is a book whose story will not stick with me but with beautiful writing that i will probably re-visit in the future.
This book reads like a dystopia but it also feels very real and recent, and it's not exactly a complete piece.
I think this is a book whose story will not stick with me but with beautiful writing that i will probably re-visit in the future.
bklassen's review against another edition
5.0
This book came recommended by John Green as a book he loved but didn't think many people had read, let alone heard of. It's a beautifully written story of a man who owns a bookshop in a country recently taken over by conservative extremists who think art is evil. The entire book is an allegory for radical theocracies, and it makes sense given that Tahar Djaout was killed by Islamic extremists. I was surprised to see that it was such a slim and short novel, and I was surprised to read such beautiful writing after a forced "intellectual forward".
The main character spends most of the book pondering how his country became what it is, why art is dangerous for extremists, and the unfettered and liberated life he used to live with his family. The writing is gorgeous (despite the overabundance of commas and dependent clauses), and the story is touching. I wanted to highlight or underline so many passages, but because it was a library book, I couldn't.
The main character spends most of the book pondering how his country became what it is, why art is dangerous for extremists, and the unfettered and liberated life he used to live with his family. The writing is gorgeous (despite the overabundance of commas and dependent clauses), and the story is touching. I wanted to highlight or underline so many passages, but because it was a library book, I couldn't.
marielaabrown's review against another edition
challenging
dark
sad
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
4.25
Truly beautiful. His writing and poetry is second to none and it’s particularly melancholy given the circumstances.
jeanetterenee's review against another edition
3.0
December 9, 2010
I never got around to writing a review for this after I read it. I'm considering a second reading, because I think it probably deserves more than the three stars I gave it. A few days ago I ran across something I had copied from the book. It's never too late to share gorgeous writing, so I wanted to post it here. I love the way he sums up the gifts each season has to offer:
"It is fall, with trees growing cold and leaves beginning to turn red. Nature is resting after having turned verdant and frolicked in the spring, shimmered with its hues of gold and glitter in the summer. Now there are shades of sweetness, nonchalance, and reconciliation. Nature is like a mature woman who still has some charms but has quieted down, has put aside her vanity, her makeup, and her seductiveness."
I never got around to writing a review for this after I read it. I'm considering a second reading, because I think it probably deserves more than the three stars I gave it. A few days ago I ran across something I had copied from the book. It's never too late to share gorgeous writing, so I wanted to post it here. I love the way he sums up the gifts each season has to offer:
"It is fall, with trees growing cold and leaves beginning to turn red. Nature is resting after having turned verdant and frolicked in the spring, shimmered with its hues of gold and glitter in the summer. Now there are shades of sweetness, nonchalance, and reconciliation. Nature is like a mature woman who still has some charms but has quieted down, has put aside her vanity, her makeup, and her seductiveness."
bucket's review
5.0
Boualem Yekker, bookseller in an unnamed county, is living on borrowed time as someone who does not buy into the new extremely religious regime in his country. The dictatorial new laws are enforced with violence and through coercion, and require women to be completely covered and religious rituals to be practiced. They also forbid things like books, music, and mixed-gender or otherwise "immoral" socializing. Boualem's family, disgusted with his refusal to comply, have left him. We spend the novel in Boualem's thoughts and dreams. He considers his past, including wonderful memories, and dreams terrible things.
"Books -- the closeness of them, their contact, their smell, and their contents -- constitute the safest refuge against this world of horror. They are the most pleasant and the most subtle means of traveling to a more compassionate planet."
The manuscript of this novel was found in Tahar Djaout's papers when he was assassinated in 1993. 20 years later, a story that once served as a terrifying warning about the dangers of religious extremism of dictatorial governments now reads more like a description of reality or a memoir more than ever. His main character is Boualem, a bookseller who has refused to comply with the regime. Boualem's family has deserted him and the novel describes in details his thoughts, memories, and dreams.
Djaout's writing is thick with the feeling of oppression and a lack of hope. Boualem is extremely lonely, and notes "how little our own life belongs to us, to what extent is becomes useless as soon as one is confronted with oneself, freed from the conflicts, bondage, worries, or joys those to whom our destiny is linked impose on or bring to us. There is an uncontrollable panic in finding oneself alone with the world." Writing about faith, Djaout describes it as "a desert of stones; a gravel wasteland with a scraped face."
Djaout also writes about what such a regime does to children ("What this ax [of faith] would like to cut off first is the path leading to the child, the umbilical cord that serves as an Ariadne's thread."), using Boualem's childhood memories as a guide. Boualem thinks of his young self, thrilled to learn and discover new things, and use his imagination in playing and singing, and he realizes that this "exciting universe, a universe that is both bewitching and dangerous" is closed off to children. Instead, "children have become the blind and convinced executors of a truth that has been presented to them as a higher truth."
Djaout writes beautifully, and there are moments of charm and joy in the novel despite its themes.
Boualem's memories of his daughter: "Kenza strugges against the wind, her inquisitive face forward, her brown curls fighting... Kenza is exploring the mysteries of the world, decoding the murmurs of the earth with the magic wand of her entrenched candor."
His love for Arabic texts: "Each time the reading is a new adventure, unpredictable steps forward, convoluted comings and goings to flush out the face of the words, give them back their purpose, place them in their role of locomotive or carriage."
The important role of books: "Books have been the compost in which Boualem's life ripened, to the point where his bookish hands and his carnal hands, his paper body and his body of flesh and blood very often overlap and mingle."
Themes: religious extremism, books, dictatorship, oppression, violence, govern by fear, power, reason vs. blind faith, future, memories, political extremism, family, dystopia
"Books -- the closeness of them, their contact, their smell, and their contents -- constitute the safest refuge against this world of horror. They are the most pleasant and the most subtle means of traveling to a more compassionate planet."
The manuscript of this novel was found in Tahar Djaout's papers when he was assassinated in 1993. 20 years later, a story that once served as a terrifying warning about the dangers of religious extremism of dictatorial governments now reads more like a description of reality or a memoir more than ever. His main character is Boualem, a bookseller who has refused to comply with the regime. Boualem's family has deserted him and the novel describes in details his thoughts, memories, and dreams.
Djaout's writing is thick with the feeling of oppression and a lack of hope. Boualem is extremely lonely, and notes "how little our own life belongs to us, to what extent is becomes useless as soon as one is confronted with oneself, freed from the conflicts, bondage, worries, or joys those to whom our destiny is linked impose on or bring to us. There is an uncontrollable panic in finding oneself alone with the world." Writing about faith, Djaout describes it as "a desert of stones; a gravel wasteland with a scraped face."
Djaout also writes about what such a regime does to children ("What this ax [of faith] would like to cut off first is the path leading to the child, the umbilical cord that serves as an Ariadne's thread."), using Boualem's childhood memories as a guide. Boualem thinks of his young self, thrilled to learn and discover new things, and use his imagination in playing and singing, and he realizes that this "exciting universe, a universe that is both bewitching and dangerous" is closed off to children. Instead, "children have become the blind and convinced executors of a truth that has been presented to them as a higher truth."
Djaout writes beautifully, and there are moments of charm and joy in the novel despite its themes.
Boualem's memories of his daughter: "Kenza strugges against the wind, her inquisitive face forward, her brown curls fighting... Kenza is exploring the mysteries of the world, decoding the murmurs of the earth with the magic wand of her entrenched candor."
His love for Arabic texts: "Each time the reading is a new adventure, unpredictable steps forward, convoluted comings and goings to flush out the face of the words, give them back their purpose, place them in their role of locomotive or carriage."
The important role of books: "Books have been the compost in which Boualem's life ripened, to the point where his bookish hands and his carnal hands, his paper body and his body of flesh and blood very often overlap and mingle."
Themes: religious extremism, books, dictatorship, oppression, violence, govern by fear, power, reason vs. blind faith, future, memories, political extremism, family, dystopia
lekg's review
dark
emotional
reflective
sad
medium-paced
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
4.75
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