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4.15 AVERAGE

funny

Wow. Okay, so this has a pretty ruthless, nasty stream of consciousness narrator with just enough satirical wit and tenderness for his lost friend to keep you interested for most of the book. Still, unfamiliar with the late twentieth century Austrian artistic elite, I kept thinking, am I getting this? Am I reading between the lines the way I should? And in the last 20 pages - well really the last 4 pages - I realized I was. And that made the ending so much more rewarding.

There was something similar to Joyce’s The Dead or Molly Bloom’s soliloquy in that feeling the reader gets as they realize they’re nearing the end, when the words become so crystalline and beautiful after plodding through so much intentionally repetitive and belabored prose. The very end of this book rushes over the finish line in a frenzy of self-awareness, emotion, and mania that is all the more affecting in contrast to the stillness and ennui that the rest of the book represents.

In terms of craft, I’d give this 5 stars. But there’s only so much misanthropy my heart can take, and I can’t say this was the most enjoyable read save for the humor and the end.
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven: Character
Strong character development: Yes
Loveable characters: No
Diverse cast of characters: No
Flaws of characters a main focus: Yes
challenging
Plot or Character Driven: Character
Strong character development: No
Loveable characters: No
Diverse cast of characters: No
Flaws of characters a main focus: Yes
reflective slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven: Character
Strong character development: No
Loveable characters: No
Diverse cast of characters: No
Flaws of characters a main focus: Yes

lennartsch's review

5.0
challenging funny
dark reflective slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven: Character
Strong character development: No
Loveable characters: No
Diverse cast of characters: No
Flaws of characters a main focus: Yes

A reminder of just why I do not like Thomas Bernhard. I did appreciate that the narrator, tuckered out by all his loathing, could not even manage to stay awake at the dinner party though. It truly must be exhausting to be trapped in endless repetitions. I mean, really, no need to blame the Auersbergers for setting a trap when your brain is the real culprit.

A devastating book. In essence, it is about a man at a dinner party observing and musing upon all the other attendees, decades-old friends and acquaintances of his. All attendees are waiting for the arrival of the guest of honor, an actor from Vienna's Burgtheater. Bernhard captures the limited action, inner dialog, and reflections on the past in a manner in which, to the reader, it is unclear if this is reality or simply the narrator's slightly skewed imagination. It is one of the most brutally honest books on the human condition that I have read in years.
reflective medium-paced

Irgendwie verwirrt mich dieses Buch