You need to sign in or sign up before continuing.
Take a photo of a barcode or cover
4.05 AVERAGE
4.05 AVERAGE
Edit: Einziger Kommentar: 4,75 und keine 5 Sterne, da ich zu oft den Eindruck hatte, dass vermeintlich „weibliche“ Eigenschaften als „naturgegeben“ betrachtet werden —> Trennen von Eigenschaften in „weiblich“ und „männlich“ (z.B. sich aufopfern, liebevoll sein, sich kümmern usw. als Teil der weiblichen Natur)
challenging
reflective
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Complicated
Flaws of characters a main focus:
No
emotional
reflective
sad
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
challenging
mysterious
reflective
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
No
Absolutely brilliant and somehow consistently engaging, even as the majority of descriptions are presented as pragmatic records of domesticity. Purely existentialist epiphanies about womanhood, identify, solitude, and how they interact are expanded on wonderfully in the best afterword I’ve read so far. Grateful for this one, of course, and purely envious of the meadow at the Alm. I can only hope to write even slightly like Haushofer one day.
emotional
hopeful
reflective
sad
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
N/A
Flaws of characters a main focus:
N/A
emotional
reflective
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
No
The fascinating premise starts with our female protagonist waking up in her cousin's hunting lodge where she is having a getaway to an empty, silent, morning. Everyone she knows there has gone to the nearest village last night. She makes her way up the road to the village, but finds that she can't go any further - there's an invisible wall à la Under The Dome (or is Under The Dome à la The Wall?) around her area of the forest and valley. Outside, she can see animals, people frozen in their last action forever. We don't know what happened, but we can presume this applies to the whole world, with everyone suspended, dead in every sense of the word.
The Wall is the last thoughts and reflections of the last woman in the world. As she details growing beans and potatoes, milking her cow, making nettle spinach, she talks candidly about her feelings of isolation, of questioning her purpose and her past life. As conscious beings we grapple with our purpose for existence. Some people give in to the momentum, the turning cogs in the machine. We go about our daily lives, finding meaning in what we have in front of us - careers, religion, love, family, doing good, fashion, fitness, and what have you. Our heroine was a mother of 2 grown children, and she had a poor relationship with them. After all that is stripped away, she tries to find new meaning in her life.
I have a deathly fear of everything described in this book. This book made my stomach churn and my head spin. I'm terrified of boredom, of being alone, of being unconnected. (Incidentally, this is also why I never considered living away from Singapore - I'm too used to being on the go and being surrounded all the time and having friends and family and whatnot.)
The idea of not having google to tell me how to plant beans and potatoes scare me. I've long stopped relying on trial and error to solve problems - I just research the best possible way and execute it. Which is not to say technology bad yada yada, because that's besides the point. We are now completely used to living connected with each other around the world and reliant on everyone to keep this system going. I get my food from the supermarket - there are so many people involved in specialised roles to make that happen. In return, my skill set is specialised to something else that I do everyday, which certainly won't feed me directly but it does today because of our system. I turn on my phone, fully charged, 'turn on' my internet (which I did 2 years ago when I got my current phone and it never turned off since), I go on Google for information - so many people are involved in every step of the way to make that happen. Anything happens to any link in this chain and things crumble. But either that doesn't happen anymore or we expect things to be resolved fairly quickly when it does.
When she talked about writing on old pieces of scrap paper with one pencil, I was seized once again by the same terror that soon she will write her last word with her stub of her pencil and never write again. She is robbed even of the ability to have a conversation with herself.
Everything said, there was also simple joy and peace in her new life. She moved to the Alm for a period of summer where she could pick berries and let her cow and bull enjoy the meadow. A one small enjoyment she could still have.
This book is devastating, beautiful, hopeful, peaceful, meditative. I'll be on the lookout for similar books. The author of Our Endless Numbered Days, a similar story about two people living for years in a hut in a forest after the world supposedly ended, also wrote a review of The Wall. Perhaps I'll tackle that next.
The Wall is the last thoughts and reflections of the last woman in the world. As she details growing beans and potatoes, milking her cow, making nettle spinach, she talks candidly about her feelings of isolation, of questioning her purpose and her past life. As conscious beings we grapple with our purpose for existence. Some people give in to the momentum, the turning cogs in the machine. We go about our daily lives, finding meaning in what we have in front of us - careers, religion, love, family, doing good, fashion, fitness, and what have you. Our heroine was a mother of 2 grown children, and she had a poor relationship with them. After all that is stripped away, she tries to find new meaning in her life.
"Sometimes I try to treat myself like a robot: do this and go there and don't forget to do that."
I have a deathly fear of everything described in this book. This book made my stomach churn and my head spin. I'm terrified of boredom, of being alone, of being unconnected. (Incidentally, this is also why I never considered living away from Singapore - I'm too used to being on the go and being surrounded all the time and having friends and family and whatnot.)
"... But it works only for a short time. I'm a bad robot; I'm still a human being who thinks and feels, and I shall not be able to shake either habit... Writing is all that matters, and as there are no other conversations left, I have to keep the endless conversation with myself alive."
The idea of not having google to tell me how to plant beans and potatoes scare me. I've long stopped relying on trial and error to solve problems - I just research the best possible way and execute it. Which is not to say technology bad yada yada, because that's besides the point. We are now completely used to living connected with each other around the world and reliant on everyone to keep this system going. I get my food from the supermarket - there are so many people involved in specialised roles to make that happen. In return, my skill set is specialised to something else that I do everyday, which certainly won't feed me directly but it does today because of our system. I turn on my phone, fully charged, 'turn on' my internet (which I did 2 years ago when I got my current phone and it never turned off since), I go on Google for information - so many people are involved in every step of the way to make that happen. Anything happens to any link in this chain and things crumble. But either that doesn't happen anymore or we expect things to be resolved fairly quickly when it does.
"While I was lighting the lamp I suddenly knew I couldn't go on like this. I was seized by a wild desire to give in and let things side. I had grown tired of constant flight, and wanted to stay put."
When she talked about writing on old pieces of scrap paper with one pencil, I was seized once again by the same terror that soon she will write her last word with her stub of her pencil and never write again. She is robbed even of the ability to have a conversation with herself.
Everything said, there was also simple joy and peace in her new life. She moved to the Alm for a period of summer where she could pick berries and let her cow and bull enjoy the meadow. A one small enjoyment she could still have.
"Something new was beginning. I didn't know what it would bring me, but mu homesickness and worries about the future gradually left me. I saw the expanse of the alpine meadows, behind them a strip of forest and above them the great, curved bow of the sky, the moon hanging, a pale circle, at its western edge while the sun rose in the east. The air was sharp and I breathed more deeply. I began to find the pasture beautiful, strange and dangerous, but like everything strange, full of mysterious enticement."
This book is devastating, beautiful, hopeful, peaceful, meditative. I'll be on the lookout for similar books. The author of Our Endless Numbered Days, a similar story about two people living for years in a hut in a forest after the world supposedly ended, also wrote a review of The Wall. Perhaps I'll tackle that next.
challenging
reflective
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
No
Initially, when I decided I wanted to read this book, I thought it was more of an adventure in a post-apocalyptic world. But that's not what this is. It's a story of survival, yes, but it's very introspective and meditative. Be forewarned that this is a very slow read, so I am grateful it's not a long book.
The book is the narrator's (whose name is not revealed to us) report of what has happened to the world and the measures she has taken to survive in it. She writes not with the hope that someone will find her writing, but rather as a means of survival, as a way to occupy her mind and prevent herself from dwelling.
This is a book that makes you think. It takes you on a journey, makes you realize how precarious your position in your current life is, makes you think about our place in the world. Oh, and if you love animals, it makes you cry. A lot. Sort of spoiler (but not really because it's revealed quite early in the book), but the adorable dog Lynx, who's so personable and protective and perfectly embodies the role of dogs in our lives, dies. I had grown so attached to him. He was like a little person, and his death HURT. My mind can't stop going over it. You would think I'd be more curious about the random man who suddenly popped up when the narrator has been living in solitude (aside from her animal companions) for over 2 years. I do wonder where he came from, and if there are more people. But at the end of the day, my focus is on poor Lynx. And now I realize, so is hers. She didn't write her report because of the man. No, she wrote it because she was heartbroken for the loss of her faithful, dependable little friend. Okay, now I feel like crying again.
This book is quiet and slow, but it's GOOD. Only giving 4 stars instead of 5 though because the pacing was quite slow and sometimes I felt like it dragged and I got a little bored.
SpoilerOkay, and now to add my favorite lines:
-"I had achieved little that I had wanted, and everything I had achieved I had ceased to want."
-"No, its better that I'm alone. And it wouldn't be good for me to be with a weaker partner, either; I'd reduce him to a shadow and kill him with care. That's the way I am, and the forest hasn't changed matters. Maybe only animals can put up with me."
-"Even now I'm nothing but a thin skin covering a mountain of memories."
-"I'm not ugly, but neither am I attractive, more like a tree than a person, a tough brown branch that needs its whole strength to survive."
-"But I've almost grown fond of dead Luise, perhaps because I now have so much time to think about her. In reality I never knew anything more about her than I know about Bella or the cat today. But it's much easier to love Bella or the cat than it is to love a human being."
-"The wall forced me to make an entirely new life, but the things that really move me are still the same as before: birth, death, the seasons, growth, and decay."
-"Yet there's no escape, for as long as there's something for me to love in the forest, I shall love it; and if some day there is nothing, I shall stop living."
-"I left a note on the table: "Gone to the Alm," and then locked up the hunting lodge. While I was writing the note, I was surprised at the absurd hope that it expressed, but I simply couldn't help it."
-"Sometimes my thoughts grow confused, and it is as if the forest has put down roots in me, and is thinking its old, eternal thoughts with my brain. And the forest doesn't want human beings to come back."
-"Because I have seen and felt all that, it's difficult for me to dream in the daytime. I have a violent resistance to daydreams, and I feel that hope has died in me. It frightens me. I don't know whether I will be able to bear living with reality alone."
-"Writing is all that matters, and as there are no other conversations left, I have to leep the endless conversation with myself alive."
-"I can no longer feel how beautiful it was, now I only know it was. There is a terrible difference."
-"I really wish her a calf. It would extend the term of my imprisonment and burden me with new worries, but Bella ought to be allowed to have her calf and be happy, and I won't question whether it fits in with my plans."
-"The barriers between animal and human come down very easily. We belong to a single great family, and if we are lonely and unhappy we gladly accept the friendship of our distant relations."
-"Time only seemed to be passing quickly. I think time stands quite still and I move around in it, sometimes slowly and sometimes at a furious rate."
-"But I was colder than the wind and didn't feel the chill."
The book is the narrator's (whose name is not revealed to us) report of what has happened to the world and the measures she has taken to survive in it. She writes not with the hope that someone will find her writing, but rather as a means of survival, as a way to occupy her mind and prevent herself from dwelling.
This is a book that makes you think. It takes you on a journey, makes you realize how precarious your position in your current life is, makes you think about our place in the world. Oh, and if you love animals, it makes you cry. A lot. Sort of spoiler (but not really because it's revealed quite early in the book), but the adorable dog Lynx, who's so personable and protective and perfectly embodies the role of dogs in our lives, dies. I had grown so attached to him. He was like a little person, and his death HURT. My mind can't stop going over it. You would think I'd be more curious about the random man who suddenly popped up when the narrator has been living in solitude (aside from her animal companions) for over 2 years. I do wonder where he came from, and if there are more people. But at the end of the day, my focus is on poor Lynx. And now I realize, so is hers. She didn't write her report because of the man. No, she wrote it because she was heartbroken for the loss of her faithful, dependable little friend. Okay, now I feel like crying again.
This book is quiet and slow, but it's GOOD. Only giving 4 stars instead of 5 though because the pacing was quite slow and sometimes I felt like it dragged and I got a little bored.
SpoilerOkay, and now to add my favorite lines:
-"I had achieved little that I had wanted, and everything I had achieved I had ceased to want."
-"No, its better that I'm alone. And it wouldn't be good for me to be with a weaker partner, either; I'd reduce him to a shadow and kill him with care. That's the way I am, and the forest hasn't changed matters. Maybe only animals can put up with me."
-"Even now I'm nothing but a thin skin covering a mountain of memories."
-"I'm not ugly, but neither am I attractive, more like a tree than a person, a tough brown branch that needs its whole strength to survive."
-"But I've almost grown fond of dead Luise, perhaps because I now have so much time to think about her. In reality I never knew anything more about her than I know about Bella or the cat today. But it's much easier to love Bella or the cat than it is to love a human being."
-"The wall forced me to make an entirely new life, but the things that really move me are still the same as before: birth, death, the seasons, growth, and decay."
-"Yet there's no escape, for as long as there's something for me to love in the forest, I shall love it; and if some day there is nothing, I shall stop living."
-"I left a note on the table: "Gone to the Alm," and then locked up the hunting lodge. While I was writing the note, I was surprised at the absurd hope that it expressed, but I simply couldn't help it."
-"Sometimes my thoughts grow confused, and it is as if the forest has put down roots in me, and is thinking its old, eternal thoughts with my brain. And the forest doesn't want human beings to come back."
-"Because I have seen and felt all that, it's difficult for me to dream in the daytime. I have a violent resistance to daydreams, and I feel that hope has died in me. It frightens me. I don't know whether I will be able to bear living with reality alone."
-"Writing is all that matters, and as there are no other conversations left, I have to leep the endless conversation with myself alive."
-"I can no longer feel how beautiful it was, now I only know it was. There is a terrible difference."
-"I really wish her a calf. It would extend the term of my imprisonment and burden me with new worries, but Bella ought to be allowed to have her calf and be happy, and I won't question whether it fits in with my plans."
-"The barriers between animal and human come down very easily. We belong to a single great family, and if we are lonely and unhappy we gladly accept the friendship of our distant relations."
-"Time only seemed to be passing quickly. I think time stands quite still and I move around in it, sometimes slowly and sometimes at a furious rate."
-"But I was colder than the wind and didn't feel the chill."
i think I like the last person in the world trope. some of this was peaceful and some was really lonely. super slow paced (a little too much for me tbh)