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theanitaalvarez's review against another edition
5.0
My granny lent me this book, because I was raiding her shelves and was intrigued about the title. So, before reading it I did a little search on Google and found out that Siri Hustvedt is married to Paul Auster. I guess that some people say that she’s published only because she is Paul Auster’s wife, as it has happened with other writers before.
This is not the case for Hustvedt. I believe she got published on her own merits.
I enjoyed Sorrows of an American a lot! It’s the kind of book that hooks you and makes you keep reading for hours.
The story is narrated by Erik Davidsen, a psiquatrist who has recently lost his father. When looking into his stuff, he and his sister Inga, find a mysterious note written by a certain Lisa, which hints at some terrible in their parents life.
But that’s only the first secret the novel is about. Besides the mysterious life of his father, Erik deals with the messed-up relations between his neighbor, an attractive woman with a little girl, and her psycho ex-boyfriend; Inga’s discovering her husband’s secret life; and his patient’s in general.
The plot is a beautiful and delicate weave of life, secrets, lies and truths, that reveals moments in the life of the different characters. All of them were quite weird, to say the truth. Besides Erik’s patients, we have Erik’s niece, Sonia, who clearly has issues and writes little snippets of poetry, a pair of women who create elaborated and detailed dolls with horrible stories behind them (and treat them almost as national secrets), the psycho ex-boyfriend who takes pictures in the streets and breaks and enters Erik’s house with no reason at all, Max’s (Inga’s deceased husband) actress lover… and many others. The story develops around these character’s craziness and the decisions they take, however insane they might be.
I like being able to take a look at other’s lives. I feel a little as a spy, but there’s something great about this kind of wriritng. It is almost as if the characters are there and we can see and hear them. It takes a great writer to create such an atmosphere, but Hustvedt manages it. Erik’s voice is compelling, ironic and overall interesting. A story told in first person must have a good narrator.
The ending is kind of anti-climatic. Mr. Davidsen’s secret is not as terrible and dark as his kids had envisioned, Inga resolves her problems with Max’s lover (I’ll admit it laughed a bit in that part, it’s just hilarious) and life goes on. We have gotten to share a little of the characters’ lives and we just have to leave them at some point.
Hustvedt’s writing is elegant and entertaining; it kept me going despite the multiple plot lines (I’ll admit I get distracted when I get a book with too many plot lines, especially when they are so closely related). And I had a great time reading, so I guess that it is the best recommendation I can give about this book.
This is not the case for Hustvedt. I believe she got published on her own merits.
I enjoyed Sorrows of an American a lot! It’s the kind of book that hooks you and makes you keep reading for hours.
The story is narrated by Erik Davidsen, a psiquatrist who has recently lost his father. When looking into his stuff, he and his sister Inga, find a mysterious note written by a certain Lisa, which hints at some terrible in their parents life.
But that’s only the first secret the novel is about. Besides the mysterious life of his father, Erik deals with the messed-up relations between his neighbor, an attractive woman with a little girl, and her psycho ex-boyfriend; Inga’s discovering her husband’s secret life; and his patient’s in general.
The plot is a beautiful and delicate weave of life, secrets, lies and truths, that reveals moments in the life of the different characters. All of them were quite weird, to say the truth. Besides Erik’s patients, we have Erik’s niece, Sonia, who clearly has issues and writes little snippets of poetry, a pair of women who create elaborated and detailed dolls with horrible stories behind them (and treat them almost as national secrets), the psycho ex-boyfriend who takes pictures in the streets and breaks and enters Erik’s house with no reason at all, Max’s (Inga’s deceased husband) actress lover… and many others. The story develops around these character’s craziness and the decisions they take, however insane they might be.
I like being able to take a look at other’s lives. I feel a little as a spy, but there’s something great about this kind of wriritng. It is almost as if the characters are there and we can see and hear them. It takes a great writer to create such an atmosphere, but Hustvedt manages it. Erik’s voice is compelling, ironic and overall interesting. A story told in first person must have a good narrator.
The ending is kind of anti-climatic. Mr. Davidsen’s secret is not as terrible and dark as his kids had envisioned, Inga resolves her problems with Max’s lover (I’ll admit it laughed a bit in that part, it’s just hilarious) and life goes on. We have gotten to share a little of the characters’ lives and we just have to leave them at some point.
Hustvedt’s writing is elegant and entertaining; it kept me going despite the multiple plot lines (I’ll admit I get distracted when I get a book with too many plot lines, especially when they are so closely related). And I had a great time reading, so I guess that it is the best recommendation I can give about this book.
sarahsadiesmith's review against another edition
4.0
As a little person my favourite author was Roald Dahl (because sweet sweet Matilda, but also Danny the Champion of the World, The BFG, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and pretty much all of the books he wrote) and then when I got to say 15 or so my favourite author was Zadie Smith (because White Teeth) but now as an elderly 34 year old I think Zadie is being given quite the run for her money by Siri Hustvedt. Memories of the Future was one of hers I read a few weeks ago, and it has stuck with me in the way that the special books do, this week I read (or tried to...I’ll explain in a second) another one of her books, and the subject of this review, The Sorrows of an American, and it was exactly the sort of book I love.
I am a quick reader, and if my ability to concentrate goes a little awry in other areas I’m usually able to manage to hold steadfast with books. This week though has been too much for me, it was unsustainably bad. And it made reading very difficult,. There was an awful lot in this book at the surface that I loved, but the best parts of it, the things you need to think a little bit about I will have missed. Imagine, if you will, that you have a cold and you eat what you know is the best lasagna in the world but it doesn’t taste of anything much, on account of your compromised taste buds. Reading this week has been like eating with the cold and so it’s a book I’ll have to read again when I’m not afflicted so deeply with my usual sorts of maladies.
Husdvedt’s books don’t sound that exciting when synopsised, to be fair they aren’t exciting, but they are so interesting in this almost introverted way, that you just have to give them a chance. There’s a patter to her writing that is almost calm. But also intelligent and wise and thought provoking. This story weaves several different threads together and deals a lot with all the things people don’t say. About memories and loss, all the trauma, and secrets and lies you carry and how psychologically distant you can be from people you are seemingly close with, “...when people are in desperate need, something falls away. The posing that’s part of the ordinary world vanishes, that How-are-you?-I’m-fine falseness.” Husdvedt is so so good in depicting human fragility, and it’s an insightful profound book, even if I only managed to have assimilated about 40% of it with my addled little brain this week.
I am a quick reader, and if my ability to concentrate goes a little awry in other areas I’m usually able to manage to hold steadfast with books. This week though has been too much for me, it was unsustainably bad. And it made reading very difficult,. There was an awful lot in this book at the surface that I loved, but the best parts of it, the things you need to think a little bit about I will have missed. Imagine, if you will, that you have a cold and you eat what you know is the best lasagna in the world but it doesn’t taste of anything much, on account of your compromised taste buds. Reading this week has been like eating with the cold and so it’s a book I’ll have to read again when I’m not afflicted so deeply with my usual sorts of maladies.
Husdvedt’s books don’t sound that exciting when synopsised, to be fair they aren’t exciting, but they are so interesting in this almost introverted way, that you just have to give them a chance. There’s a patter to her writing that is almost calm. But also intelligent and wise and thought provoking. This story weaves several different threads together and deals a lot with all the things people don’t say. About memories and loss, all the trauma, and secrets and lies you carry and how psychologically distant you can be from people you are seemingly close with, “...when people are in desperate need, something falls away. The posing that’s part of the ordinary world vanishes, that How-are-you?-I’m-fine falseness.” Husdvedt is so so good in depicting human fragility, and it’s an insightful profound book, even if I only managed to have assimilated about 40% of it with my addled little brain this week.
superdilettante's review against another edition
4.0
I wrote a very thoughtful review, but it disappeared. So there.
"'Our own father used to talk about city slickers,' I said, smiling at my sister. 'But every perceived difference, no matter how slight, can become an argument for Otherness--money, education, skin color, religion, political party, hairstyle, anything. Enemies are enlivening. Evil-doers, jihadists, barbarians. Hatred is exciting and contagious and conveniently eliminates all ambiguity. You just spew your own garbage on to someone else.'"
"There are weights in us that other people never see."
Although this book seemed a bit thinner than What I Loved, and I didn't enjoy it as much, I always appreciate Hustvedt's thoughtful, solitary, complex characters. Part of me wonders if the lack of much resolution is a bit of an exploration of a person--a family--as an iceberg.
"'Our own father used to talk about city slickers,' I said, smiling at my sister. 'But every perceived difference, no matter how slight, can become an argument for Otherness--money, education, skin color, religion, political party, hairstyle, anything. Enemies are enlivening. Evil-doers, jihadists, barbarians. Hatred is exciting and contagious and conveniently eliminates all ambiguity. You just spew your own garbage on to someone else.'"
"There are weights in us that other people never see."
Although this book seemed a bit thinner than What I Loved, and I didn't enjoy it as much, I always appreciate Hustvedt's thoughtful, solitary, complex characters. Part of me wonders if the lack of much resolution is a bit of an exploration of a person--a family--as an iceberg.
lnatal's review against another edition
2.0
This is the story of a New York psychoanalyst, Erik Davidsen, who returns to his hometown in Minnesota in order to sort out his father's diary after his death.
Some other stories are entwined with the main plot, such as Miranda - a Jamaican artist and her daughter; Inga Davidsen, Erik's sister and her husband, Max Blaustein.
Despite everything, I can't say I loved the book. I still prefer What I Loved, so far my favorite book by this author.
As a Bookcrossing book, it will be released at Biblioteca Mario de Andrade.
Some other stories are entwined with the main plot, such as Miranda - a Jamaican artist and her daughter; Inga Davidsen, Erik's sister and her husband, Max Blaustein.
Despite everything, I can't say I loved the book. I still prefer What I Loved, so far my favorite book by this author.
As a Bookcrossing book, it will be released at Biblioteca Mario de Andrade.
mpf's review against another edition
5.0
Hur man kan berätta så många historier i en bok är beyond me. Att alla dessutom är så invecklade och detaljerad är en konstform i sig självt.