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celestecorrea's review against another edition
4.0
(Editado)
Para a Paula, que me ofereceu o livro, o meu agradecimento.
«O Fim da Aventura» (1951) - «The End of the Affair», no original - , considerado uma das melhores obras de Graham, aborda a culpa, a moral, o ódio, a suspeição, o ciúme e reflecte sobre preceitos da religião católica e sua exegese.
Um romance entre Brendix, um escritor solteiro e narrador na primeira pessoa, e Sarah, uma mulher casada. Um amor condenado. Uma aventura amorosa com princípio e fim.
Ninguém sabe como começa coisa alguma; o que aqui é abordado é como termina. Ele quer o vulgar e corrupto amor e mede-o pela extensão do ciúme.
«Os amantes ciumentos são mais respeitáveis e menos ridículos que os maridos ciumentos. E estão garantidos pelo prestígio da literatura. Os amantes traídos são trágicos, nunca são cómicos. Pense em Troilo.»
Sarah, por seu lado, escreve no seu diário:
«É tão estranho descobrirmos e acreditarmos que somos amados, quando sabemos que ninguém há digno de amor, a não ser um pai ou um Deus.»
A crença de Sarah começa a ser vista como um fenómeno de histeria.
Com Sarah, desconhecedora de ter sido baptizada pela Igreja Católica, entendi esta aventura, este affair, como uma passagem do amor profano para o divino, quase uma santificação.
Quanto a Brendix termina escrevendo:
«Escrevi ao princípio que era isto um memorial de ódio; e, caminhando ali ao lado de Henry [o marido de Sarah] (..) descobri a única oração que parecia contentar a tristeza do Inverno: ó meu Deus, já fizeste bastante, já me roubaste bastante, sinto-me por de mais cansado e velho para aprender a amar, deixa-me em paz para sempre.»
Não deixa de ser um final aberto; Um livro muito bom onde encontrei também o peculiar sentido de humor do nosso GG.
Para a Paula, que me ofereceu o livro, o meu agradecimento.
«O Fim da Aventura» (1951) - «The End of the Affair», no original - , considerado uma das melhores obras de Graham, aborda a culpa, a moral, o ódio, a suspeição, o ciúme e reflecte sobre preceitos da religião católica e sua exegese.
Um romance entre Brendix, um escritor solteiro e narrador na primeira pessoa, e Sarah, uma mulher casada. Um amor condenado. Uma aventura amorosa com princípio e fim.
Ninguém sabe como começa coisa alguma; o que aqui é abordado é como termina. Ele quer o vulgar e corrupto amor e mede-o pela extensão do ciúme.
«Os amantes ciumentos são mais respeitáveis e menos ridículos que os maridos ciumentos. E estão garantidos pelo prestígio da literatura. Os amantes traídos são trágicos, nunca são cómicos. Pense em Troilo.»
Sarah, por seu lado, escreve no seu diário:
«É tão estranho descobrirmos e acreditarmos que somos amados, quando sabemos que ninguém há digno de amor, a não ser um pai ou um Deus.»
A crença de Sarah começa a ser vista como um fenómeno de histeria.
Com Sarah, desconhecedora de ter sido baptizada pela Igreja Católica, entendi esta aventura, este affair, como uma passagem do amor profano para o divino, quase uma santificação.
Quanto a Brendix termina escrevendo:
«Escrevi ao princípio que era isto um memorial de ódio; e, caminhando ali ao lado de Henry [o marido de Sarah] (..) descobri a única oração que parecia contentar a tristeza do Inverno: ó meu Deus, já fizeste bastante, já me roubaste bastante, sinto-me por de mais cansado e velho para aprender a amar, deixa-me em paz para sempre.»
Não deixa de ser um final aberto; Um livro muito bom onde encontrei também o peculiar sentido de humor do nosso GG.
gnothiseauton's review against another edition
emotional
reflective
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
I don’t think I’ll ever stop thinking about this book oh my god. It’s such a window into the concerns of the twentieth century, of reckoning with faith after tragedy and loss and horror. It’s not a perfect book (if such a thing exists) but my criteria for five stars is “a book well written and technically executed that I will think about for the rest of my life.” I believe this book fits the brief
tristansreadingmania's review against another edition
4.0
“Man has places in his heart which do not yet exist, and into them enters suffering, in order that they may have existence.”
-Leon Bloy
In light of their shared experience of a late conversion to Roman Catholicism, it shouldn’t be at all surprising that Greene utilised a quote from brother in spirit Leon Bloy, himself formerly a violent reactionary to the Catholic Church, at the beginning of ‘The End of the Affair’.
As it turns out, this quote also serves as a fitting preamble to the tragic, intimately introspective tale of fierce, all-consuming love that is to follow. For those of us who’ve known and experienced the myriad of challenges inherent to that form of love, this is an eerily familiar, often confronting read.
Suffering, in this book, is very much a condition – and often a concomitant- for contentment, even happiness (however brief) and meaning to be derived from life. In spite of the creeping forces of nihilism, cynicism and relativism that beset the critically inclined, a deeper meaning – be it the unconditional, often trying love for a person or a God – has to be grasped and embraced in order to live fully.
Whatever is mundane, convenient, or comes easy, spells certain (spiritual) death for those – often out of cowardice – consciously choosing it. Experiencing hurt, betrayal or disillusionment (which turns that love into hate) in that pursuit is a given. Yet, it beats the alternative, or so Greene seems to imply. Better to feel vibrantly alive once for a short while, than to feel an aching nothingness for one’s whole stay in this earthly realm.
This makes Greene a perennial writer, in my opinion. Those who attempt to dismiss his Catholic novels wholesale by mocking their religiously inspired situations (which are admittedly reaching at times) and imagery out of some sense of misplaced superiority, to me are missing the point somewhat.
Greene’s economical use of language, pregnant with meaning in what is a deceptively slim book very much made on impression on me. I found myself pensively underlining various passages, aphorisms and witticisms left and right, often with a grimace on my face. This man knows. By its deft employment, Greene brings to life the various complex states of mind of his richly drawn characters, especially the ones that compose the doomed couple entangled in an illicit love affair, Maurice and Sarah.
They are both conflicted, flawed, even at times plainly pathetic individuals, stirring conflicting emotions regarding them in the reader himself. Here is a hate/love dynamic at work on two levels, which in the case of our protagonists inexorably leads to a conclusion suffused with sorrow.
Only at the third part of the novel, do we the voyeurs, peering into their souls, truly understand where they are coming from, observe their frailty and weakness with coolly compassion, and find it in ourselves to forgive them for their trespasses of the heart.
Greene managed to turn us into Catholics after all, if just temporarily. A miracle?
-Leon Bloy
In light of their shared experience of a late conversion to Roman Catholicism, it shouldn’t be at all surprising that Greene utilised a quote from brother in spirit Leon Bloy, himself formerly a violent reactionary to the Catholic Church, at the beginning of ‘The End of the Affair’.
As it turns out, this quote also serves as a fitting preamble to the tragic, intimately introspective tale of fierce, all-consuming love that is to follow. For those of us who’ve known and experienced the myriad of challenges inherent to that form of love, this is an eerily familiar, often confronting read.
Suffering, in this book, is very much a condition – and often a concomitant- for contentment, even happiness (however brief) and meaning to be derived from life. In spite of the creeping forces of nihilism, cynicism and relativism that beset the critically inclined, a deeper meaning – be it the unconditional, often trying love for a person or a God – has to be grasped and embraced in order to live fully.
Whatever is mundane, convenient, or comes easy, spells certain (spiritual) death for those – often out of cowardice – consciously choosing it. Experiencing hurt, betrayal or disillusionment (which turns that love into hate) in that pursuit is a given. Yet, it beats the alternative, or so Greene seems to imply. Better to feel vibrantly alive once for a short while, than to feel an aching nothingness for one’s whole stay in this earthly realm.
This makes Greene a perennial writer, in my opinion. Those who attempt to dismiss his Catholic novels wholesale by mocking their religiously inspired situations (which are admittedly reaching at times) and imagery out of some sense of misplaced superiority, to me are missing the point somewhat.
Greene’s economical use of language, pregnant with meaning in what is a deceptively slim book very much made on impression on me. I found myself pensively underlining various passages, aphorisms and witticisms left and right, often with a grimace on my face. This man knows. By its deft employment, Greene brings to life the various complex states of mind of his richly drawn characters, especially the ones that compose the doomed couple entangled in an illicit love affair, Maurice and Sarah.
They are both conflicted, flawed, even at times plainly pathetic individuals, stirring conflicting emotions regarding them in the reader himself. Here is a hate/love dynamic at work on two levels, which in the case of our protagonists inexorably leads to a conclusion suffused with sorrow.
Only at the third part of the novel, do we the voyeurs, peering into their souls, truly understand where they are coming from, observe their frailty and weakness with coolly compassion, and find it in ourselves to forgive them for their trespasses of the heart.
Greene managed to turn us into Catholics after all, if just temporarily. A miracle?
tomilola's review against another edition
challenging
emotional
reflective
sad
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
nastya_besa's review against another edition
reflective
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
chelsayoder's review against another edition
2.0
I know people love this but I just absolutely hated all the characters. I just wanted the whining to end.
I could see how the author is a beautiful writer though so gave it stars for that alone.
I could see how the author is a beautiful writer though so gave it stars for that alone.
jemimamcleish's review against another edition
challenging
emotional
mysterious
reflective
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.75
floatwiththesticks's review against another edition
5.0
Greene turns love inside out (like socks in the wash, to attempt one of his similes).
This was incredible. As was Colin Firth's narration.
This was incredible. As was Colin Firth's narration.
sportula's review against another edition
dark
emotional
reflective
sad
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.75