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andreimoldo24's review against another edition
4.0
Now this was a full time ride. The story's narrative structure is unique and experimental, offering multiple perspectives and a nonlinear timeline. It can be disorienting, but once you grasp the rhythm, it enhances the sense of the eternal, repetitive despair that permeates the book. It's like watching a series of beautifully shot, yet disorienting film scenes(of course, having that in mind, the film which is 7h+ long is a must watch).The characters are deeply flawed and often morally ambiguous.Their stories are shrouded in mystery, which adds to the enigma of the plot. The way they interact and react to the external events is a testament to Krasznahorkai's astute understanding of the 80's lifestyle in a small hungarian village. These are not easily relatable characters, but they are profoundly human.
Overall, this was an excellent over the top writing excercise.
Overall, this was an excellent over the top writing excercise.
joeduncan's review against another edition
5.0
This is a dark dark book. I haven't seen the film, but it reminds me a lot of the Andrei Tarkovsky flick Stalker. It may crack my top 10 all time favs.
derotanim's review against another edition
adventurous
challenging
dark
funny
mysterious
reflective
tense
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
5.0
ube_cake's review against another edition
5.0
Beyond a shadow of a doubt, this book deserves 5 stars—imo, it stands alongside García Márquez’s “Cien años de soledad”, Lispector’s “A paixão segundo G.H.” and Cărtărescu’s “Nostalgia” as favourite books of mine.
I would even give it 6 stars if Goodreads had the option to.
Legit, I don’t think I have the capacity to string up a review that reflects the «e x p e r i e n c e» of reading the book—to confront walls of text with each chapter, to read sentences that stretch into infinity. In a sense, after finding out that Krasznahorkai often collaborated with the film director Béla Tarr, the meandering sentences felt analogous to the film technique of one-take film—prose that captures any and all that can be perceived within a set moment in time.
Even as it explores the theme of decay of the physical, psychological, social and moral sort, often with shades of apocalypse and the end-times—the prose shines with an obsidian lustre. Here are some of them that I especially loved:
(A) pg 12
“The clouds that was slowly proceeding eastwards: the light in the kitchen dimmed as if it were dusk and it was hard to know whether the gently vibrating patches on the well were merely shadows or symptoms of the despair underlying their faintly hopeful thoughts.”
(B) pg 91
“The entire end-of-October night was beating with a single pulse, its own strange rhythm sounding through trees and rain and mud in a manner beyond words or vision: a vision present in the low light, in the slow passage of darkness, in the blurred shadows, (…) all these thousands of echoing rhythms, this confusing chatter of night noises, all parts of an apparently common stream, that is the attempt to forget despair (…)”
If ever the opportunity presents itself, GET A COPY OF THIS BOOK!
I can’t wait to read more from Krasznahorkai, and I might even watch the 7 hour adaptation of this novel—once my schedule allows for it!
P.S.: I know that their efforts have been recognised as part of Krasznahorkai receiving the prestigious International Booker Prize 2015, but I’d love to give a massive Thank You to Krasznahorkai’s translators: George Szirtes and Ottilie Muzlet.
I would even give it 6 stars if Goodreads had the option to.
Legit, I don’t think I have the capacity to string up a review that reflects the «e x p e r i e n c e» of reading the book—to confront walls of text with each chapter, to read sentences that stretch into infinity. In a sense, after finding out that Krasznahorkai often collaborated with the film director Béla Tarr, the meandering sentences felt analogous to the film technique of one-take film—prose that captures any and all that can be perceived within a set moment in time.
Even as it explores the theme of decay of the physical, psychological, social and moral sort, often with shades of apocalypse and the end-times—the prose shines with an obsidian lustre. Here are some of them that I especially loved:
(A) pg 12
“The clouds that was slowly proceeding eastwards: the light in the kitchen dimmed as if it were dusk and it was hard to know whether the gently vibrating patches on the well were merely shadows or symptoms of the despair underlying their faintly hopeful thoughts.”
(B) pg 91
“The entire end-of-October night was beating with a single pulse, its own strange rhythm sounding through trees and rain and mud in a manner beyond words or vision: a vision present in the low light, in the slow passage of darkness, in the blurred shadows, (…) all these thousands of echoing rhythms, this confusing chatter of night noises, all parts of an apparently common stream, that is the attempt to forget despair (…)”
If ever the opportunity presents itself, GET A COPY OF THIS BOOK!
I can’t wait to read more from Krasznahorkai, and I might even watch the 7 hour adaptation of this novel—once my schedule allows for it!
P.S.: I know that their efforts have been recognised as part of Krasznahorkai receiving the prestigious International Booker Prize 2015, but I’d love to give a massive Thank You to Krasznahorkai’s translators: George Szirtes and Ottilie Muzlet.
claudiatylr's review against another edition
dark
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
2.0
This book was insufferable. Granted that’s clearly the point. The author is masterful at making it feel like the narrative itself is stuck in the depressing moldy marsh of the Hungarian village. I have to begrudgingly give it some stars because there is clearly artistry in the endless run-on sentences and purposely confusing dialogue.
But it also made me want to physically eat the pages so I didn’t have to read them anymore.
Legit awful read, least favorite of the year. Only thing I imagine that is worse is the 7& 1/2 hour art house film based on it.
But it also made me want to physically eat the pages so I didn’t have to read them anymore.
Legit awful read, least favorite of the year. Only thing I imagine that is worse is the 7& 1/2 hour art house film based on it.
sarah_adriana's review against another edition
I'll pick it up another time I'm just not in the mood for being confused 24/7
thesearethebooks's review against another edition
challenging
dark
mysterious
tense
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
spacetime03's review against another edition
“he saw before him, as if by magic, the path prepared for him, the way the fog swam up from either side of it and, in the middle of the narrow path, the luminous face of his future, it’s lineaments bearing the infernal marks of drowning.”
“she would follow him like a strange dreamlike shadow…and in this way she would be reborn time after time; she would learn his every movement, the secret meaning of each distinct modulation of his voice, would interpret his dreams and should - God forbid! - any harm befall him, hers would be the lap in which he would lay his head”
“i’ve long understood there is zero difference between me and a bug, or a bug and a river, or a river and a voice shouting above it. there’s no sense or meaning in anything. it’s nothing but a network of dependency under enormous fluctuating pressures. it’s only our imaginations, not our sense, that continually confront us with failure and the false belief that we can raise ourselves by our own bootstraps from the miserable pulp of decay. there’s no escaping that…we think we’re breaking free but all we’re doing is readjusting the locks. we’re trapped.”
“what is behind me still remains ahead of me. can’t a man rest?”
“they’re simply enjoyed living in the shadow of their masters…then whenever the shadow falls they follow, like a flock of sheep, because they can’t do without a shadow…they’ll do anything not to be left alone with the remnants of pomp and splendour, because when they are left alone they go mad: like mad dogs they fall on whatever remains and tear it to bits.”
“the progress of spring, summer, fall and winter, as if the whole of time were a frivolous interlude in the much greater spaces of eternity, a brilliant conjuring trick to produce something apparently orderly out of chaos, to establish a vantage point from which chance might begin to look like necessity…and he saw himself nailed to the cross of his own cradle and coffin, painfully trying to tear his body away, only, eventually, to deliver himself…where he was obliged to regard the human condition without a trace of pity, without a single possibility of any way back to life…strip him even if his last means of defense, of that hope of someday finding his way back home.”