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marinesca123's review against another edition
dark
emotional
reflective
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
jesslew's review against another edition
I tried…I really tried, but it’s at least a ‘not right now’ for me. I was in a more introspective mood when I started it and then I guess my pace was too slow so I lost that mood when I’d pick it up again to read it … maybe I’ll try in audiobook form of it exists
cheelu's review against another edition
emotional
inspiring
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? N/A
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
umbrellatrees's review against another edition
3.0
Enfim.
Não sei se o nome desse livro é mais propositado pelo desassossego do autor ou por aquele causado em quem o lê. Que Fernando Pessoa é permeado de pessimismos, tédios, vazios, todos já sabemos; mas essa leitura tem momentos tão apáticos, tão introspectivos e removidos de qualquer calor social, que me fugia completamento a filosofia ou reflexão e restava apenas o fardo de viver. Boa parte de todos os escritos é essa repetição de temas, o que me parece ter menos apelo do que sua obra poética. Talvez se esse livro fosse editado e tivesse menos páginas, a mensagem teria sido passada de forma menos enfadonha; sendo como é, a sensação de deja vu temático é constante.
No fim das contas, Pessoa continua impressionando mais em verso do que em prosa - ainda que o verso seja um dos livres e extensos de Álvaro de Campos. Vários textos do Livro do Desassossego são ecos de poemas outros, esses últimos, bem mais brilhantes:
208. "Mas não sou mais do que isso, não quero ser mais do que isso, não posso ser mais do que isso."
213. "Quantos sou? Quem é eu? O que é esse intervalo que há entre mim e mim?"
337. "O que tenho sobretudo é cansaço."
Não sei se o nome desse livro é mais propositado pelo desassossego do autor ou por aquele causado em quem o lê. Que Fernando Pessoa é permeado de pessimismos, tédios, vazios, todos já sabemos; mas essa leitura tem momentos tão apáticos, tão introspectivos e removidos de qualquer calor social, que me fugia completamento a filosofia ou reflexão e restava apenas o fardo de viver. Boa parte de todos os escritos é essa repetição de temas, o que me parece ter menos apelo do que sua obra poética. Talvez se esse livro fosse editado e tivesse menos páginas, a mensagem teria sido passada de forma menos enfadonha; sendo como é, a sensação de deja vu temático é constante.
No fim das contas, Pessoa continua impressionando mais em verso do que em prosa - ainda que o verso seja um dos livres e extensos de Álvaro de Campos. Vários textos do Livro do Desassossego são ecos de poemas outros, esses últimos, bem mais brilhantes:
208. "Mas não sou mais do que isso, não quero ser mais do que isso, não posso ser mais do que isso."
213. "Quantos sou? Quem é eu? O que é esse intervalo que há entre mim e mim?"
337. "O que tenho sobretudo é cansaço."
perco_tempo's review against another edition
4.0
Prefiro claramente o diário disperso do que os texto grandiosos. Existe algo melhor na metafísica deprimente diária do que a metafísica repensada de Bernardo Soares.
janey_bones's review against another edition
Man, life is hard enough without going back to revisit this depressing prose. I mean it's beautiful and I want to love it but It's just such a bummer.
_natasha's review against another edition
5.0
First feeling while writing this: what do I do with all that ass? This is like my holy Bible, in that it contains all the secrets of a human being. Superb read idk how I will function for the next couple days
pixiebix's review
This is my year of DNFs, apparently. It needs to STOP.
The Book of Disquiet is an autobiography (of sorts) without any facts; it is philosophical reflections on life and existence that are immaculately written and perhaps the most relatable and ‘on point’ I’ve ever read, yet it is, fundamentally, very, very nihilistic and… well, depressing. It is perhaps the best body of work I’ve ever read for putting into words those almost-impossible-to-capture feelings about ennui and monotony and the general tedium of life, but it’s also a bit… much?
If this were 50 pages long, it could easily be a five-star read. At this length, though, it just feels like wallowing—beautiful, artistic, reflective wallowing, but wallowing nonetheless. I’m feeling quite low while reading it, and even if everything it says is technically true, it still feels unproductive in the fact that I feel like I’m just ruminating in a stew of sadness.
This may be one I revisit in the future, as it is a stunning body of work. For now, I think I prefer mental stability to finishing it.
The Book of Disquiet is an autobiography (of sorts) without any facts; it is philosophical reflections on life and existence that are immaculately written and perhaps the most relatable and ‘on point’ I’ve ever read, yet it is, fundamentally, very, very nihilistic and… well, depressing. It is perhaps the best body of work I’ve ever read for putting into words those almost-impossible-to-capture feelings about ennui and monotony and the general tedium of life, but it’s also a bit… much?
If this were 50 pages long, it could easily be a five-star read. At this length, though, it just feels like wallowing—beautiful, artistic, reflective wallowing, but wallowing nonetheless. I’m feeling quite low while reading it, and even if everything it says is technically true, it still feels unproductive in the fact that I feel like I’m just ruminating in a stew of sadness.
This may be one I revisit in the future, as it is a stunning body of work. For now, I think I prefer mental stability to finishing it.
theeuphoriczat's review against another edition
5.0
This book is one of the best books I have ever read! and I know that is a grand statement considering that I always talk shit about books that remotely sounds pretentious. Fernando Pessoa, in this case Bernardo Soares who is one of Pessoa semi-Heteronyms, sound like a pretentious asshole with a stick up his ass BUT and this is a huge BUT, he is honest and his honesty is almost shocking. I mean he basically believes that as humans we waste our time worrying over so many irrelevant things that in so doing make our existence irrelevant. BUT he is right. He is honest about not wanting to be given gifts because he knows he has to give a gift in return. He doesn't want to be caught up in the infinitival politics of gift giving because it maintains a balance! He might seen an asshole but this is how I feel. I do not want to owe you something in return but it is the way of the world even if the gift giver claims not to expect anything in return.
I mean the fact that I have to justify my reason for not caring about the politics of gift giving is another example of how we waste irrelevant time. Pessoa goes further to conceptualize how time is measured. Why it might do more with finance than ageing. I am not big brained enough to explain this concept (suggest you read the book)
This book continually use 'dreams' as a way to explain Pessoa's way of the world. The ones that he claims to create and the ones that he tries not to play a part in but fails because the world requires it of him. Other themes that this collection explores include, freedom, government & religion, death, relationship and longevity. He talks about feminism, love and marriage, he didn't shy away from his thoughts on women sexuality and power over men. It was quite fascinating to read his thoughts on women cheating in relationships by substituting their husband with some else. I mean Pessoa was getting too juicy with his musings and I loved that for him.
One thing that I can say is that despite the fact that Bernardo Soares seemed not to have any relationship of his own, he thought a lot about relationships and not just sex like a lot of men do, Soares included. He thought a lot about Love. The big letter L love. He might have come off a lot as a jaded or jilted lover but he was never really bitter. It was almost a sorrowful reflection of his idea of love considering he never claimed to have had one. At least, one that matter a lot to him (doubtful). There is a section in the book titled "The River of Possession" he described love as seeking and giving happiness and that in some way it can led to obsession. The drive to possess another person and in so doing, most people forget to possess themselves first. In obsessively searching for love, the seeker forgets to possess himself. If I remember correctly he goes The greatest love, therefore, is death or oblivion or renunciation I mean, mind blown.
In the second phase he was focused more on spirituality and the knowledge of oneself. Building on the dreams and self-reflection, self-consciousness, the insubstantial use of grammar in expressing oneself. Basically the idea is that, in describing something, said thing loses its meaning in grammar and language. Not every emotion can be explained, in attempting to convey the emotion, it is either understated, over-exaggerated or loses it substance entirely.
I could go on and on with this book but I will like to finish on Freedom, through out the book, 'freedom of thought' and 'freedom from thought' both play a big role in how Soares pictured the world around him and the one he tries to create in his dreams. He never fails to create worlds in his dreams but he never actually does, and any miniscule layout of a dream, become squashed by what I conceptualize as freedom from thought. You can never really be free from thoughts that come based on the world outside of your dreams. Because they create the pillar to which your dreams take place (I might have gone a bit co co in the head but that is what I think). But it seems I am on a similar wave length with Soares, because he states Freedom is the possibility of isolation, i.e., when you can do everything on your own, when you do not have to rely on anyone or anything for either money, conversation, companionship, comfort etc.. then truly are you free. This makes it almost impossible to achieve Freedom, because true freedom is to have, with never having to take or give.
I will highly recommend this book!
I mean the fact that I have to justify my reason for not caring about the politics of gift giving is another example of how we waste irrelevant time. Pessoa goes further to conceptualize how time is measured. Why it might do more with finance than ageing. I am not big brained enough to explain this concept (suggest you read the book)
This book continually use 'dreams' as a way to explain Pessoa's way of the world. The ones that he claims to create and the ones that he tries not to play a part in but fails because the world requires it of him. Other themes that this collection explores include, freedom, government & religion, death, relationship and longevity. He talks about feminism, love and marriage, he didn't shy away from his thoughts on women sexuality and power over men. It was quite fascinating to read his thoughts on women cheating in relationships by substituting their husband with some else. I mean Pessoa was getting too juicy with his musings and I loved that for him.
One thing that I can say is that despite the fact that Bernardo Soares seemed not to have any relationship of his own, he thought a lot about relationships and not just sex like a lot of men do, Soares included. He thought a lot about Love. The big letter L love. He might have come off a lot as a jaded or jilted lover but he was never really bitter. It was almost a sorrowful reflection of his idea of love considering he never claimed to have had one. At least, one that matter a lot to him (doubtful). There is a section in the book titled "The River of Possession" he described love as seeking and giving happiness and that in some way it can led to obsession. The drive to possess another person and in so doing, most people forget to possess themselves first. In obsessively searching for love, the seeker forgets to possess himself. If I remember correctly he goes The greatest love, therefore, is death or oblivion or renunciation I mean, mind blown.
In the second phase he was focused more on spirituality and the knowledge of oneself. Building on the dreams and self-reflection, self-consciousness, the insubstantial use of grammar in expressing oneself. Basically the idea is that, in describing something, said thing loses its meaning in grammar and language. Not every emotion can be explained, in attempting to convey the emotion, it is either understated, over-exaggerated or loses it substance entirely.
I could go on and on with this book but I will like to finish on Freedom, through out the book, 'freedom of thought' and 'freedom from thought' both play a big role in how Soares pictured the world around him and the one he tries to create in his dreams. He never fails to create worlds in his dreams but he never actually does, and any miniscule layout of a dream, become squashed by what I conceptualize as freedom from thought. You can never really be free from thoughts that come based on the world outside of your dreams. Because they create the pillar to which your dreams take place (I might have gone a bit co co in the head but that is what I think). But it seems I am on a similar wave length with Soares, because he states Freedom is the possibility of isolation, i.e., when you can do everything on your own, when you do not have to rely on anyone or anything for either money, conversation, companionship, comfort etc.. then truly are you free. This makes it almost impossible to achieve Freedom, because true freedom is to have, with never having to take or give.
I will highly recommend this book!