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We cannot forget Toussaint, face expressionless, as he hurls that dart into our forehead with his full strength, distinctly grimacing; nor forgive the fact that he is always on the verge of playing tennis.
"Immobility is not absence of movement but absence of any prospect of movement."
The above observation lies three-quarters of the way through The Bathroom, just before the quasi-authorial ruminations break forth, escaping the previous three room stage design. A change of locale occurs. Not to disclose much, but it is a change of nation as well. The insular goes on the lam. In fact, the section abroad distills the almost static gestation of the earlier salvos. The novel's only act of violence (except for that to Octupi) occurs and maintains, almost despite the postulation previously exhibited. The act is outside of reason. It isn't theorized. It does change matters. Well, to be fair, in a book of less than a hundred pages it pushes matters towards a certain conclusion, albeit without conviction. Then again, isn't that a great deal of our lives?
The above observation lies three-quarters of the way through The Bathroom, just before the quasi-authorial ruminations break forth, escaping the previous three room stage design. A change of locale occurs. Not to disclose much, but it is a change of nation as well. The insular goes on the lam. In fact, the section abroad distills the almost static gestation of the earlier salvos. The novel's only act of violence (except for that to Octupi) occurs and maintains, almost despite the postulation previously exhibited. The act is outside of reason. It isn't theorized. It does change matters. Well, to be fair, in a book of less than a hundred pages it pushes matters towards a certain conclusion, albeit without conviction. Then again, isn't that a great deal of our lives?
Helaas niet mijn smaak, erg minimalistisch terwijl ik juist meer van uitvoerige beschrijvingen hou. Verder wel een grappig boekje.
* plus pol hviezdičky
minimalistický príbeh o mužovi, jeho postoji k životu a jeho zvláštnej náklonnosti k svojej kúpelni (a pobytu v nej).
veľmi sa mi páčil štýl, aj postavy, ktoré vykreslil, avšak k niektorým ich popudom mi chýbal motív - vôbec som netušila, na základe čoho spravili niektoré rozhodnutie, čo ma miatlo.
na druhej strane, veľmi fajn oddych.
(spoiler: bude sa vám chcieť vyprázdniť poličky v kúpeľni a dať si tam knihy)
minimalistický príbeh o mužovi, jeho postoji k životu a jeho zvláštnej náklonnosti k svojej kúpelni (a pobytu v nej).
veľmi sa mi páčil štýl, aj postavy, ktoré vykreslil, avšak k niektorým ich popudom mi chýbal motív - vôbec som netušila, na základe čoho spravili niektoré rozhodnutie, čo ma miatlo.
na druhej strane, veľmi fajn oddych.
(spoiler: bude sa vám chcieť vyprázdniť poličky v kúpeľni a dať si tam knihy)
“In this way it is possible to imagine that the essential tendency of motion, however lightning-swift it may appear, is toward immobility and that, however slow it may sometimes seem, it is continuously drawing bodies toward death, which is immobility. Olé.”
Jean-Philippe Toussaint’s ‘The Bathroom’ is a wacky novel about this French guy that decides to move into his own bathroom. This novel is pretty existencial and discusses multiple topics, but one of the them that stands out the most is of immobility. The quote above illustrates what I believe is the one of the main ideas of the book. Toussaint uses the image of rainfall behind a pane of glass to differentiate the narrator’s philosophy of immobility from other philosophies. To me it sounds like basically the narrator wants to do nothing. The philosophy of doing nothing, just sitting in your bathroom and doing absolutely nothing. Which is funny because the narrator does a lot in this short novel. Speaking of funny, the novel’s also pretty funny. There’s this scene with some Polish painters and an octopus, and the narrator can never find tennis shorts. Very wacky novel, and I do recommend it.
Jean-Philippe Toussaint’s ‘The Bathroom’ is a wacky novel about this French guy that decides to move into his own bathroom. This novel is pretty existencial and discusses multiple topics, but one of the them that stands out the most is of immobility. The quote above illustrates what I believe is the one of the main ideas of the book. Toussaint uses the image of rainfall behind a pane of glass to differentiate the narrator’s philosophy of immobility from other philosophies. To me it sounds like basically the narrator wants to do nothing. The philosophy of doing nothing, just sitting in your bathroom and doing absolutely nothing. Which is funny because the narrator does a lot in this short novel. Speaking of funny, the novel’s also pretty funny. There’s this scene with some Polish painters and an octopus, and the narrator can never find tennis shorts. Very wacky novel, and I do recommend it.
The way I make sense of this is that “the bathroom” refers not only to that one room in his small apartment but also his entire room in the large empty hotel. They mirror each other. In his bathroom at home, he is confined to the tub, yet he is never alone. He is rather immobilized but yet interactive. In Venice, on the other hand, he moves about the hotel at whim, yet its labyrinths— containing lots of bathrooms in each room— confine him internally from the love of his wife. Without this movement of the heart, despite his roaming around, his mind atrophies and he becomes depressed. Reclusive and dissociative and even mean. It is not until he leaves the big bathrooms to return home to his little tub with his wife that he is again able to enjoy presence.
I interpret the ending— a really fun loop, that was actually genius I think— as the sort of comedic, tragic reminder that the big labyrinths of bathrooms called society will come find you when you’ve found the still mobility of love and presence, and they will insist you have obligations to leave and die inside.
Another interpretive moment was when the octopus was skinned and cleaned in the kitchen by the Polish painters. Our main character has a penchant for living in his tub, meanwhile society is available to him; and an octopus who dwells in the abyss of the deep ocean, is now dead in the tiny sink… Maybe not interpretive. That’s it. That’s all there is to say.
I’m tempted to give it a 5/5 because I read it in 3 hours and was satisfied by it. But for petty reasons completely internal to the plot, I cannot. I have such a crush on Edmondsson and the main character really fumbled the bag with her. (Well, to be frank, this puts it lightly. The main character loses me completely and quite swiftly by his behavior towards her)
I interpret the ending— a really fun loop, that was actually genius I think— as the sort of comedic, tragic reminder that the big labyrinths of bathrooms called society will come find you when you’ve found the still mobility of love and presence, and they will insist you have obligations to leave and die inside.
Another interpretive moment was when the octopus was skinned and cleaned in the kitchen by the Polish painters. Our main character has a penchant for living in his tub, meanwhile society is available to him; and an octopus who dwells in the abyss of the deep ocean, is now dead in the tiny sink… Maybe not interpretive. That’s it. That’s all there is to say.
I’m tempted to give it a 5/5 because I read it in 3 hours and was satisfied by it. But for petty reasons completely internal to the plot, I cannot. I have such a crush on Edmondsson and the main character really fumbled the bag with her. (Well, to be frank, this puts it lightly. The main character loses me completely and quite swiftly by his behavior towards her)
s. 28
Jsou dva způsoby, jak doma přes okno pozorovat déšť. První spočívá v upírání pohledu na jakýkoli pevný bod v prostoru a sledování, jak ve vybraném místě prší a prší; tento způsob přináší mysli odpočinek, nenavozuje žádné myšlenky o účelu pohybu. Druhý od pohledu vyžaduje více pružnosti: znamená sledovat očima dráhu jediné kapky od chvíle, kdy vnikne do zorného pole, až do okamžiku, kdy se její obsah rozptýlí na zemi. Tak je možné si představovat, že pohyb, zdánlivě tak bleskurychlý, tíhne v podstatě k nehybnosti, a že ačkoli se někdy může zdát velmi pomalý, v důsledku vede těla nepřetržitě k smrti, totiž nehybnosti. Olé.
s. 55
Oba jsme leželi v posteli, nohy měli pod pokrývkami propletené, listovali jsme ženským časopisem, co si Edmondsson přivezla z Paříže. Obracel jsem stránky a ona mě občas vracela zpátky, zastavovala mi ruku, aby se podívala na nějakou fotografii. Bezcílně jsme procházel všechny ty hadříky, sdělovali si názory na šaty, kostýmy, propínací svetry. Hodnotili krásu manekýnek. Když se mi některá z dívek líbila, a Edmondsson ne, pokrčila rameny. Pohoršeně.
s. 65
Když jsem se ráno probouzel, pozoroval jsem přes zavřená víčka nadcházející den, vypadal jako tmavé moře, nekonečné moře, nenávratně strnulé.
Jsou dva způsoby, jak doma přes okno pozorovat déšť. První spočívá v upírání pohledu na jakýkoli pevný bod v prostoru a sledování, jak ve vybraném místě prší a prší; tento způsob přináší mysli odpočinek, nenavozuje žádné myšlenky o účelu pohybu. Druhý od pohledu vyžaduje více pružnosti: znamená sledovat očima dráhu jediné kapky od chvíle, kdy vnikne do zorného pole, až do okamžiku, kdy se její obsah rozptýlí na zemi. Tak je možné si představovat, že pohyb, zdánlivě tak bleskurychlý, tíhne v podstatě k nehybnosti, a že ačkoli se někdy může zdát velmi pomalý, v důsledku vede těla nepřetržitě k smrti, totiž nehybnosti. Olé.
s. 55
Oba jsme leželi v posteli, nohy měli pod pokrývkami propletené, listovali jsme ženským časopisem, co si Edmondsson přivezla z Paříže. Obracel jsem stránky a ona mě občas vracela zpátky, zastavovala mi ruku, aby se podívala na nějakou fotografii. Bezcílně jsme procházel všechny ty hadříky, sdělovali si názory na šaty, kostýmy, propínací svetry. Hodnotili krásu manekýnek. Když se mi některá z dívek líbila, a Edmondsson ne, pokrčila rameny. Pohoršeně.
s. 65
Když jsem se ráno probouzel, pozoroval jsem přes zavřená víčka nadcházející den, vypadal jako tmavé moře, nekonečné moře, nenávratně strnulé.