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3.26 AVERAGE
3.26 AVERAGE
reflective
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
Picked it up in a coffee shop with second hand books in Antwerp, and the characters got me hooked enough in that first hour of reading, for me to keep coming back and to finish it. A deeply personal novel.
"We are in the realm not of logic but of wistfulness, and I must maintain that wistfulness is a respectable, serious condition. How, otherwise, to account for much of one's life?"
This kind of thought is what draws the reader into the story. But then strangely the main character-- the one doing the thinking-- is outwardly so flat and seemingly uncommunicative, it's frustrating. Probably that contradiction of character is what the book is about.
Ultimately I found it unsatisfying. I didn't care enough about the main characters. And I don't give a rat's ass about cricket. I wonder if this is a "guy book" - as in, you really have to be a guy, and possibly a fan of cricket or appreciator of team sports, to really like it.
This kind of thought is what draws the reader into the story. But then strangely the main character-- the one doing the thinking-- is outwardly so flat and seemingly uncommunicative, it's frustrating. Probably that contradiction of character is what the book is about.
Ultimately I found it unsatisfying. I didn't care enough about the main characters. And I don't give a rat's ass about cricket. I wonder if this is a "guy book" - as in, you really have to be a guy, and possibly a fan of cricket or appreciator of team sports, to really like it.
emotional
mysterious
reflective
sad
tense
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
This was book was ok. I wanted it to be better than it was, especially given the great, slippery West Indian character the narrator has a friendship with. In the end, though, this odd musing on being a Dutch man, thinking about his crumbling marriage, September 11th, and being rootless everywhere and an ex-pat of... really nowhere, didn't catch fire with me. I finished it just because I'd begun it. I gotta stop doing that.
Well, this wouldn’t be the first time, nor do I doubt it shall be the last time, that I brushed up against greatness and then missed it. It’s also true, however, that I am capable of retracing my steps and reconsidering what I’ve experienced. This is why Antonioni’s LAvventura is a favorite film as is Fitzgerald’s novel The Great Gatsby. My first reaction upon experiencing either of those masterpieces was no different than my first reading of Netherland. Impatience in one and indifference in the other. I wish it had been otherwise. It was otherwise reading Mr and Mrs Bridge. I was in awe of those two highly acclaimed novels even as I read them. Be that as it may, I’ll be revisiting Netherland as I will other exceptional works of literary fiction that have escaped my understanding if only to become a better reader, my own modest pursuit of excellence.
I really wanted to like this book more (I'd stretch to 3.5 stars if I could). In parts the writing was excellent, but never brilliant. Attachment with the main character, for me, was never closer than arm's length. Perhaps intentional due to the Dutch main character?
I put this book in the read category even though I didn't make it all the way through. I think if I didn't have more enticing books sitting on my desk I would have pushed on. Long story short, the writing was admirable but the story was dull. Self journeys and introspection just don't make for a page turner. At least Obama liked it...
this is kind of sad and there are many references to that european sport that i forget the name of. European in NY right after 9eleven- well writen, i miss new york:(
i love cricket, this books got a lot cricket in it, cricket in new york too, where everyone hits the ball in the air, elbows never up i guess, but i dont know, its just too much i guess, post 9/11 anxiety, marital disintegration, anglo-saxon hatred of amerikkka, caribbean sub-sub-minorities in sub-sub-urban jersey, russian jews' gambling ring, indo-carib cuisine, death, everything really, plus the book is really just one long monologue by hans, a not particularly interesting market analyst from den haag. huh. new yorker loves it, which shouldve been a sign that reading it would puncture an even bigger hole in your head/heart.