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3.55 AVERAGE
3.55 AVERAGE
reflective
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
No
Painful from start to finish. This is my first experience reading Henry James and probably my last. The story is mentioned in Philip Roth’s The Ghost Writer. The sentences are so long, meandering and full of ridiculous metaphors, the story itself is vapid and James himself is whiny throughout. I got nothing from this. Thanks a lot, Phil!
reflective
fast-paced
reflective
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
“‘you seem very much alone.’ ‘that’s often happens at my age. i’ve outlived, i’ve lost by the way.’ doctor hugh hesitated; then surmounting a soft scruple: ‘whom have you lost?’
‘everyone.’”
i have not read any other henry james’ novels but i have heard that this novel seems to have a different tone. it’s darker and less ironic. it’s bitter and it’s short. reading it would probably take an hour maximum if you were a slow reader and it’s not terribly boring?
if you don’t like reflective works you probably will but it tells the tale of a dying artist at the end of his life as he struggles to overcome this sense of loss and sadness at how he seems to not have accomplished anything with his work, spending his last days seemingly correcting and editing his last novel, the same novel that gives the title and gives him an unmooring loss as he realises he doesn’t even remember what he wrote.
but he meets a young man, doctor hugh, and he’s a fan. a big enough fan with a big enough devotion to give up a large inheritance to spend his days by the authors side. he attempts to brighten up the author and pull him out of his cynicism and he succeeds in finally getting the author to see what he’s been capable of, encouraging him to see the future of his readers and gets solace of it.
but he’s still dying. he’s dying and there’s no miraculous solution as he dies not writing another word, giving up a rare second chance that was never really possible in the first place.
when i read the end i was at a stop because it’s short and it’s abrupt and there seems to be no solution and yet in the end of the story there is a fulfilment of the conflict -even if it’s cynical and embittered to me.
“‘you’ve made me think it all a delusion… not my glory - what there is of it! it is glory - to have been tested, to have had our little quality and cast our little spell. the thing is to have made somebody care. you happen to be crazy, of course, but that doesn’t affect the law… a second chance - that’s the delusion. there never was to be but one. we work in the dark - we do what we can - we give what we have. our doubt is our passion and our passion is our task. the rest is the madness of art.’… poor dencombe was barelt audible but he had marked with the words the virtual end of his first and only chance.”
would i have read this unprompted if it was not for university? i’m not sure, you’ll have to ask after i’ve read and studied his other works but i don’t think i’ve lost anything by giving this a read. i don’t think it’s even long enough to be classed as boring for readers (unless you absolutely despise older literature) and it’s not exactly hard to read either. but it has left me wondering what james means by the end: to hope to make another chance? is it enough to acknowledge as an artist and be fulfilled that one person has enjoyed your work? is it him just being cynical and does he see himself in dencombe? i don’t know.
triumphant yet tragic. id say james is pretty skilled for getting all this in like 20 pages max.
‘everyone.’”
i have not read any other henry james’ novels but i have heard that this novel seems to have a different tone. it’s darker and less ironic. it’s bitter and it’s short. reading it would probably take an hour maximum if you were a slow reader and it’s not terribly boring?
if you don’t like reflective works you probably will but it tells the tale of a dying artist at the end of his life as he struggles to overcome this sense of loss and sadness at how he seems to not have accomplished anything with his work, spending his last days seemingly correcting and editing his last novel, the same novel that gives the title and gives him an unmooring loss as he realises he doesn’t even remember what he wrote.
but he meets a young man, doctor hugh, and he’s a fan. a big enough fan with a big enough devotion to give up a large inheritance to spend his days by the authors side. he attempts to brighten up the author and pull him out of his cynicism and he succeeds in finally getting the author to see what he’s been capable of, encouraging him to see the future of his readers and gets solace of it.
but he’s still dying. he’s dying and there’s no miraculous solution as he dies not writing another word, giving up a rare second chance that was never really possible in the first place.
when i read the end i was at a stop because it’s short and it’s abrupt and there seems to be no solution and yet in the end of the story there is a fulfilment of the conflict -even if it’s cynical and embittered to me.
“‘you’ve made me think it all a delusion… not my glory - what there is of it! it is glory - to have been tested, to have had our little quality and cast our little spell. the thing is to have made somebody care. you happen to be crazy, of course, but that doesn’t affect the law… a second chance - that’s the delusion. there never was to be but one. we work in the dark - we do what we can - we give what we have. our doubt is our passion and our passion is our task. the rest is the madness of art.’… poor dencombe was barelt audible but he had marked with the words the virtual end of his first and only chance.”
would i have read this unprompted if it was not for university? i’m not sure, you’ll have to ask after i’ve read and studied his other works but i don’t think i’ve lost anything by giving this a read. i don’t think it’s even long enough to be classed as boring for readers (unless you absolutely despise older literature) and it’s not exactly hard to read either. but it has left me wondering what james means by the end: to hope to make another chance? is it enough to acknowledge as an artist and be fulfilled that one person has enjoyed your work? is it him just being cynical and does he see himself in dencombe? i don’t know.
triumphant yet tragic. id say james is pretty skilled for getting all this in like 20 pages max.
henry james may be insufferable, but at least his stories are homoerotic