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wooknight's review against another edition
5.0
A brilliant book!!! I have never come across another book where the author argues so convincingly about two very disparate philosophies . Perhaps it is his humility at not forcing either ideology on the reader and trusting the reader to make his own judgement that made me a fan of Mann and the Magic Mountain
hellochickadee's review against another edition
challenging
funny
lighthearted
sad
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Loveable characters? Yes
5.0
shoba's review against another edition
4.0
Hans Castorp, before beginning his apprenticeship with a German shipbuilder, visits his cousin, Joachim Ziemssen, for three weeks. Ziemssen was seeking a cure for his respiratory ailments at a sanitarium in the Swiss Alps. As his three week vacation comes to an end, Castorp hesitates in taking his leave. He was found to have a bronchial infection of his own, requiring the extension of his stay. As the months go by, Castorp‘s days, filled with prescribed activities, become hard to differentiate.
“He had the feeling that he had been out of touch with yesterday since waking, and had only now picked up the threads again where he laid them down.”
Castorp becomes familiar with the other patients in the sanitarium, even forming a romantic attachment to a Russian woman, Madame Clawdia Chauchat. Several other patients instruct him in the fields of philosophy, politics and religion. And the years slowly slip by.
“…then at the very moment when one thought one had reached the outermost edge, everything began all over again. But that meant, did it not, that perhaps in inner world after inner world within his own nature he was present over and over again— a hundred young Hans Castroph…gazing out from a balcony onto a frosty, moonlit night high in the Alps….”
As Castorp approaches his seventh year in the sanitarium, the medical staff stops insisting he “do any work, because the decision has already been made to hold him back” because he was “no longer in the running….” He was set free of all responsibilities.
“…he had not found it easy to separate the ‘now’ of today from that of yesterday, or the day before yesterday, or the day before that, when all were alike as peas in a pod, of late that same ‘now’ was apt…to muddle its present with a present that had prevailed a month or a year before, and to fuse into an ‘always’.”
Soon reports from the world below arrives carrying troubling news, “…the murder of the archduke….” And here begins the First World War.
“…his mind turn the shadows of such things into one dream or another, but had never paid any attention to the things themselves, primarily out of an arrogant preference for seeing shadows as things, and things as mere shadows….”
Castorp decides to leave the sanitarium and enlist as a soldier. He marches off to war like thousands of other young German men, to defend their country.
“Where are we? What is that? Where has our dream brought us….Here is a signpost- no point in asking, the twilight would cloak its message even if it had not been riddled and ripped to jagged shreds. East or west? It is the flatlands- this is war. And we are reluctant shades by the roadside….”
During the fight, Castorp, feeling weary, falls to the ground, but the men keep coming.
“Then they are hit, they fall, flailing their arms, shot in the head, the heart, the gut. They lie with their faces in the mire and do not stir. They lie, arched over their knapsacks, the backs of their heads buried in the soft ground, their hands clutching at the air like talons. But the wood keeps sending new men, who hurl themselves down, leap up, and, with a shout or without a word, stagger forward among those who have already fallen.”
Earlier in the novel, Hans may not have wanted to leave the sanitarium because he was unsure of his career choices, scared of his future or simply wanted some time to think things over. Hans was described as average and so I ask myself as the novel comes to an end, what was an ordinary man’s life worth.
“Farewell, Hans Castorp, life's faithful problem child. Your story is over. We have told it to its end….”
From A Naked Singularity by Sergio De La Pava-
“It's your basic library! You got your newspapers on wooden sticks if you like that sort of thing! They've got their share of books too! Though incredibly The Magic Mountain isn't one of them! You believe that?! No Magic Mountain! Thomas Mann they keep out but they've got all sorts of other Toms in there. All the Toms and Thomases your soul could desire! Not Tommy Mann though….It occurs to me now that I might have given you the wrong impression before about Thomas Mann like I'm some big reader of his work and was thus outraged that I couldn't find Magic Mountain! Truth is I've never read Magic Mountain or Buddenbrooks either for that matter! And the reason for that has nothing to do with the availability of those books in my local library! I have a dog-eared Magic Mountain and though I have picked it up countless times over the years it never takes me very long to put it down for good or at least until the next time! And before you get all worked up I assure you that I have other equal and even far greater holes in my education! Just wanted to come clean ...
“He had the feeling that he had been out of touch with yesterday since waking, and had only now picked up the threads again where he laid them down.”
Castorp becomes familiar with the other patients in the sanitarium, even forming a romantic attachment to a Russian woman, Madame Clawdia Chauchat. Several other patients instruct him in the fields of philosophy, politics and religion. And the years slowly slip by.
“…then at the very moment when one thought one had reached the outermost edge, everything began all over again. But that meant, did it not, that perhaps in inner world after inner world within his own nature he was present over and over again— a hundred young Hans Castroph…gazing out from a balcony onto a frosty, moonlit night high in the Alps….”
As Castorp approaches his seventh year in the sanitarium, the medical staff stops insisting he “do any work, because the decision has already been made to hold him back” because he was “no longer in the running….” He was set free of all responsibilities.
“…he had not found it easy to separate the ‘now’ of today from that of yesterday, or the day before yesterday, or the day before that, when all were alike as peas in a pod, of late that same ‘now’ was apt…to muddle its present with a present that had prevailed a month or a year before, and to fuse into an ‘always’.”
Soon reports from the world below arrives carrying troubling news, “…the murder of the archduke….” And here begins the First World War.
“…his mind turn the shadows of such things into one dream or another, but had never paid any attention to the things themselves, primarily out of an arrogant preference for seeing shadows as things, and things as mere shadows….”
Castorp decides to leave the sanitarium and enlist as a soldier. He marches off to war like thousands of other young German men, to defend their country.
“Where are we? What is that? Where has our dream brought us….Here is a signpost- no point in asking, the twilight would cloak its message even if it had not been riddled and ripped to jagged shreds. East or west? It is the flatlands- this is war. And we are reluctant shades by the roadside….”
During the fight, Castorp, feeling weary, falls to the ground, but the men keep coming.
“Then they are hit, they fall, flailing their arms, shot in the head, the heart, the gut. They lie with their faces in the mire and do not stir. They lie, arched over their knapsacks, the backs of their heads buried in the soft ground, their hands clutching at the air like talons. But the wood keeps sending new men, who hurl themselves down, leap up, and, with a shout or without a word, stagger forward among those who have already fallen.”
Earlier in the novel, Hans may not have wanted to leave the sanitarium because he was unsure of his career choices, scared of his future or simply wanted some time to think things over. Hans was described as average and so I ask myself as the novel comes to an end, what was an ordinary man’s life worth.
“Farewell, Hans Castorp, life's faithful problem child. Your story is over. We have told it to its end….”
From A Naked Singularity by Sergio De La Pava-
“It's your basic library! You got your newspapers on wooden sticks if you like that sort of thing! They've got their share of books too! Though incredibly The Magic Mountain isn't one of them! You believe that?! No Magic Mountain! Thomas Mann they keep out but they've got all sorts of other Toms in there. All the Toms and Thomases your soul could desire! Not Tommy Mann though….It occurs to me now that I might have given you the wrong impression before about Thomas Mann like I'm some big reader of his work and was thus outraged that I couldn't find Magic Mountain! Truth is I've never read Magic Mountain or Buddenbrooks either for that matter! And the reason for that has nothing to do with the availability of those books in my local library! I have a dog-eared Magic Mountain and though I have picked it up countless times over the years it never takes me very long to put it down for good or at least until the next time! And before you get all worked up I assure you that I have other equal and even far greater holes in my education! Just wanted to come clean ...
zamaszystyoj's review against another edition
challenging
reflective
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
2.0
busco's review against another edition
challenging
reflective
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.25
marpetra's review against another edition
2.0
Tää on taas niitä kirjoja, joita on hyvin raskas lukea, mutta jälkeenpäin on ihan tyytyväinen, että on sen lukenut. Hyviä aiheita ja kuvauksia, mutta mielenkiinto ei vaan riittänyt siihen keskittymiseen. Tarvitsen tämänkaltaiseen kirjaan enemmän juonta ja/tai samaistuttavia henkilöitä. Tekis mieli antaa kolme tähteä, mutta koska osittain kirja meni ihan selailuksi niin pakko antaa vaan kaksi.
duncanvb's review against another edition
adventurous
challenging
funny
mysterious
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
Making us wait 300 pages for our hero to talk to his crutch and then it's all in French? Psycho shit, i loved it. I can't believe "the protagonist of life" comes from this book
thomasbd23's review against another edition
challenging
informative
reflective
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
imdillionen's review against another edition
challenging
dark
emotional
funny
informative
inspiring
mysterious
reflective
sad
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? N/A
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
5.0
No niin. Huh huh. Kuuntelin tämän, joten sinänsä voin vain arvailla millainen trippi tämä olisi, jos tämän lukisi paperilta. Mutta jotain tästä saa kuunneltunakin, vaikka paljon menee ohi. Toki tässä on niin paljon monologeja ja keskustelua, että sinänsä äänikirja on aika luonteva muoto.
Mann kirjoitti Zauberbergiä noin 12 vuotta, teos julkaistiin 1924. Tavallaan oli kotoisaa palata 1900-luvun alun ajatusmaailmoihin ja ideologiohin, tämä on erinomainen kattaus kelle tahansa jota kiinnostaa eurooppalainen ajattelu ennen ensimmäistä maailmansotaa. Modernismin vuorenhuippu. Ja toisaalta mullekin muistutus siitä kuinka hirmu englantilaista munkin käsitys modernismista on. A novel of ideas, mullekin on opetettu, tosiaan, Hans on rasittava ja pelkkä väline, sinänsä jotain taikaa on siinäkin, että hänen kanssaan viettää monen monta tuntia ja lopulta ei edes kiinnosta miten hänen käy sodassa (se on myös perspektiivin ymmärtämistä).
Tämä on kaiketi myös teos, joka tekee siitä elämänhetkestä, jona sen lukee - tapahtui silloin muutoin mitä vaan - merkityksellisen ja muistettavan. Hyvin harva kirja toimii näin. Itse kuuntelin tämä hieman yli kuukauden, ja sen ajanjakson keskellä valvoin isoisäni kuolinvuoteella 3 vuorokautta ja olin siinä myös kuolemanhetkellä. Vaikka silloin en kuunnellutkaan Taikavuorta, oli se, ja sen tuberkuloottiset, huonosti hengittävät hahmot ja elämän ja kuoleman suuret kysymykset jatkuvasti siinä taustalla. Sattui niin, että kun isoisäni kuoleman jälkeen palasin kirjaan, oli vuorossa Joachimin kuolinjakso.
Also... Vielen Dank, Sie großer humanistischer Autor, dass Sie dieses Denkmal geschrieben haben, das seiner Leserin weiterhin das Gefühl gibt, klein, groß, traurig, tränenreich, ernst, unbedeutend und bedeutungsvoll zu sein.
heyimaghost's review against another edition
5.0
‘. . .if you have read The Magic Mountain once, I recommend you read it twice.’
- Thomas Mann
A tall order for anyone who has actually read the book, and if you took Mann’s advice, I would gladly shake your hand. ‘‘A brick of ideas’ is how I once described it. Mann describes it as a ‘time-romance,’ which is probably more accurate.
I read in a review that no one should attempt to 'climb' (my word) The Magic Mountain until after they turn thirty. I'm not sure why exactly, but it did give me a sense of foreboding, especially seeing as I was already 300 pages in and still within my twenty-ninth year. But having read it, I would like to go back and tell my twenty-one-year-old self to read it. Would he have understood it? Probably not. Did I even understand it? Probably not.
To call it a novel seems like a mislabelling of sorts. This type of book is called a 'novel of ideas,' which clarifies things somewhat. Though, to be fair, there seems to be far more ideas than plot. Of plot, in fact, there's very little. When asked by a coworker what the book was about, I told her that I could talk about that for thirty minutes and still not explain the plot. It's secondary anyway: a vessel to carry the heavy concepts of the book.
And what of the concepts? The main one seems to be time and our understanding of it. He goes back to it frequently, which is fitting since one point he deals with is the circular nature of time. But the more interesting point, to me, is the relative nature of time. There is a quote from the book which is fitting: ‘Great spaces of time passed in unbroken uniformity tend to shrink together in a way to make the heart stop beating for fear; when one day is like all the others, then they are all like one; complete uniformity would make the longest life seem short, and as though it had stolen away from us unawares.’ We feel, along with Castorp, that the time ceases to become a measurable element, and merely a philosophical concept. And who of us hasn’t felt this phenomena? I am toying with the concept that the Berghof Sanatorium is representative of isolation in general, wherein time no longer becomes a factor. It is a trap. We withdraw from the world, and lose consciousness of time and space. We hold to the idea that we will leave one day, but we only sink further and further into our isolation. The body craves connection, but eventually we numb ourselves to the loss and forget that we ever wanted it. I have some basis for this in Mann’s explanation of The Magic Mountain, but it’s a loose theory, so don’t read too much into it. Of course, we can withdraw from the world, but the world will call us forth like 'the shock that fired the mine beneath the magic mountain, and set our sleeper ungently outside the gates.' That is, I think, partially the message at the end of it all. But I'll move on.
Another major element of the book is the dichotomy between--since I can’t think of a better word for it--medievalism and humanism/progressivism. This is mostly done through the arguments between Naphta and Settembrini. Which one Mann sides with is not made clear, but I like to think that, like myself, he holds to both views simultaneously. I think we all tend towards contradiction, and in Castorp’s reaction to these discussions, we can see his flirtation with it. Settembrini might hate the paradox, but Castorp clearly does not, as he seems to embrace both the Jesuit and the Humanist. Personally, I lean towards Naphta’s Catholic and Medieval arguments, but that’s neither here nor there.
I won’t go on much longer. Though, I would like to touch on one other element--completely ignoring the issue of health and illness, which is crucial but also inconsequential to the novel--which is that of alchemy. Mann calls it a '“heightening” enhancement,' but throughout the book we are given discussions--mostly one sided--with Naphta about alchemy. It’s an interesting title, The Magic Mountain, as I literally feel that I have climbed the book, I think that is what Mann meant by a '“heightening” enhancement.' I cannot speak for other readers, but I myself, along with Castorp, rose as we progressed. We are told that Castorp is nothing worth mentioning--not in those words--at the beginning of the story, and yet he spends hours upon hours contemplating deep theological, biological, philosophical, and even, to a smaller degree, political concepts. He is--alchemically--changed into a higher state by his visit to the Berghof Sanatorium, and I feel like I was as well.
‘For man himself is a mystery, and all humanity rests upon reverence before the mystery that is man.’
- Thomas Mann
- Thomas Mann
A tall order for anyone who has actually read the book, and if you took Mann’s advice, I would gladly shake your hand. ‘‘A brick of ideas’ is how I once described it. Mann describes it as a ‘time-romance,’ which is probably more accurate.
I read in a review that no one should attempt to 'climb' (my word) The Magic Mountain until after they turn thirty. I'm not sure why exactly, but it did give me a sense of foreboding, especially seeing as I was already 300 pages in and still within my twenty-ninth year. But having read it, I would like to go back and tell my twenty-one-year-old self to read it. Would he have understood it? Probably not. Did I even understand it? Probably not.
To call it a novel seems like a mislabelling of sorts. This type of book is called a 'novel of ideas,' which clarifies things somewhat. Though, to be fair, there seems to be far more ideas than plot. Of plot, in fact, there's very little. When asked by a coworker what the book was about, I told her that I could talk about that for thirty minutes and still not explain the plot. It's secondary anyway: a vessel to carry the heavy concepts of the book.
And what of the concepts? The main one seems to be time and our understanding of it. He goes back to it frequently, which is fitting since one point he deals with is the circular nature of time. But the more interesting point, to me, is the relative nature of time. There is a quote from the book which is fitting: ‘Great spaces of time passed in unbroken uniformity tend to shrink together in a way to make the heart stop beating for fear; when one day is like all the others, then they are all like one; complete uniformity would make the longest life seem short, and as though it had stolen away from us unawares.’ We feel, along with Castorp, that the time ceases to become a measurable element, and merely a philosophical concept. And who of us hasn’t felt this phenomena? I am toying with the concept that the Berghof Sanatorium is representative of isolation in general, wherein time no longer becomes a factor. It is a trap. We withdraw from the world, and lose consciousness of time and space. We hold to the idea that we will leave one day, but we only sink further and further into our isolation. The body craves connection, but eventually we numb ourselves to the loss and forget that we ever wanted it. I have some basis for this in Mann’s explanation of The Magic Mountain, but it’s a loose theory, so don’t read too much into it. Of course, we can withdraw from the world, but the world will call us forth like 'the shock that fired the mine beneath the magic mountain, and set our sleeper ungently outside the gates.' That is, I think, partially the message at the end of it all. But I'll move on.
Another major element of the book is the dichotomy between--since I can’t think of a better word for it--medievalism and humanism/progressivism. This is mostly done through the arguments between Naphta and Settembrini. Which one Mann sides with is not made clear, but I like to think that, like myself, he holds to both views simultaneously. I think we all tend towards contradiction, and in Castorp’s reaction to these discussions, we can see his flirtation with it. Settembrini might hate the paradox, but Castorp clearly does not, as he seems to embrace both the Jesuit and the Humanist. Personally, I lean towards Naphta’s Catholic and Medieval arguments, but that’s neither here nor there.
I won’t go on much longer. Though, I would like to touch on one other element--completely ignoring the issue of health and illness, which is crucial but also inconsequential to the novel--which is that of alchemy. Mann calls it a '“heightening” enhancement,' but throughout the book we are given discussions--mostly one sided--with Naphta about alchemy. It’s an interesting title, The Magic Mountain, as I literally feel that I have climbed the book, I think that is what Mann meant by a '“heightening” enhancement.' I cannot speak for other readers, but I myself, along with Castorp, rose as we progressed. We are told that Castorp is nothing worth mentioning--not in those words--at the beginning of the story, and yet he spends hours upon hours contemplating deep theological, biological, philosophical, and even, to a smaller degree, political concepts. He is--alchemically--changed into a higher state by his visit to the Berghof Sanatorium, and I feel like I was as well.
‘For man himself is a mystery, and all humanity rests upon reverence before the mystery that is man.’
- Thomas Mann