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4.04 AVERAGE
4.04 AVERAGE
“Who hasn’t ever wondered: am I a monster or is this what it means to be a person?”
fast-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
It’s like a shot from Lispector’s brain into my own, or like the lights were switched on in the tunnel connecting the two.
The Hour of the Star is a confusing book, mainly in terms of narrative. It’s true also that the characters are confusing, but the confusion accumulates and actually forms very distinct, lively figures. But the narrative is nothing. It’s the kind of book that barrages you with impressions and comments, generally not letting you off the hook with easy description and action, you have to pay attention and let it wash over you, as they say. If that’s not what you like, then you’ll probably find this book frustrating and vague. I know I had to reread passages every time I got distracted thinking about something else.
It is living poetry, which, I don’t know what I mean by that, but the words are alive somehow to me.
I couldn’t even begin to post quotes from it — the book is nothing but witty, luminous, paradoxical moments. In turns, or all at once, it’s funny and tragic, clarifying and obfuscating, abstract and factual, beautiful and grotesque, expansive and restricted.
Okay, here’s quote. I read this on an .epub so I don’t know what page it’s from: “Facts are words spoken by the world.” Here’s another, “Thinking is an act. Feeling is a fact.”
Not the most easily-digestible thing in the world but I loved it because I feel a strong kinship with it, reading it and writing it felt like reading my own diary without the burden of trying to imagine what it’d seem like to someone else.
The Hour of the Star is a confusing book, mainly in terms of narrative. It’s true also that the characters are confusing, but the confusion accumulates and actually forms very distinct, lively figures. But the narrative is nothing. It’s the kind of book that barrages you with impressions and comments, generally not letting you off the hook with easy description and action, you have to pay attention and let it wash over you, as they say. If that’s not what you like, then you’ll probably find this book frustrating and vague. I know I had to reread passages every time I got distracted thinking about something else.
It is living poetry, which, I don’t know what I mean by that, but the words are alive somehow to me.
I couldn’t even begin to post quotes from it — the book is nothing but witty, luminous, paradoxical moments. In turns, or all at once, it’s funny and tragic, clarifying and obfuscating, abstract and factual, beautiful and grotesque, expansive and restricted.
Okay, here’s quote. I read this on an .epub so I don’t know what page it’s from: “Facts are words spoken by the world.” Here’s another, “Thinking is an act. Feeling is a fact.”
Not the most easily-digestible thing in the world but I loved it because I feel a strong kinship with it, reading it and writing it felt like reading my own diary without the burden of trying to imagine what it’d seem like to someone else.
lighthearted
reflective
relaxing
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated
Ma cosa vuoi dire a Clarice Lispector? Dai, facciamo i seri.
I ask: was every story ever written in the world a story of affliction?
This novella is remarkable in its singularity. The author rattles all the conventions of narrative. Don’t be misled into thinking a dismantling or Derrida inspired project is at play. Lispector uses her protagonist, a struggling novelist to explore Macabea a transplanted young woman from the provinces into the bustle of Rio. The novelist expresses his love for his creation but readily notes, that Macabea is fungible, like thousands of other without distinction. The novella surveys her existence and her (perhaps only) sortie towards love. This is wrenching in its execution.
This novella is remarkable in its singularity. The author rattles all the conventions of narrative. Don’t be misled into thinking a dismantling or Derrida inspired project is at play. Lispector uses her protagonist, a struggling novelist to explore Macabea a transplanted young woman from the provinces into the bustle of Rio. The novelist expresses his love for his creation but readily notes, that Macabea is fungible, like thousands of other without distinction. The novella surveys her existence and her (perhaps only) sortie towards love. This is wrenching in its execution.
challenging
reflective
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
No
This was truly unlike anything I’ve ever read. Lots to underline.
challenging
dark
funny
hopeful
inspiring
lighthearted
reflective
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated
reflective
medium-paced