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3.76 AVERAGE
3.76 AVERAGE
adventurous
dark
emotional
reflective
sad
tense
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
Complicated
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
Libro que he releído con la perspectiva de los años y que me ha gustado bastante, llegando incluso a cambiar mi opinión sobre los personajes
Boringggg the show is better I expected more. Painfully mid. Also the pedophila/incest stuff is weird.
adventurous
dark
mysterious
reflective
tense
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
I went into this book blind and not knowing much about this story or its characters. The pacing is rather slow, however, I found it to be fairly well written. It’s easy to be drawn into the story. I didn’t find any of the characters to be very likable but nonetheless their stories were interesting. The main thing that bothered me was the way in which the relationship between Louis and Claudia was written. Anne Rice attempts to display the bond between the two as a close father/daughter relationship, however the way in which Louis looks at Claudia and describes her sounded much more sexualized than intended. And it was made much worse whenever I remember that Claudia looks like a young child since that was when she was changed.
dark
emotional
reflective
tense
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
dark
emotional
inspiring
mysterious
reflective
sad
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
No
This was the first big Novel that I read in high school after I read this I was hooked on Anne Rice and started to love reading. Thank you Anne Rice!
dark
reflective
tense
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
This book was familiar to me, even though I don't remember reading it. Although I might have, in the 90's. Or I might have caught scenes from the movie at different times, but never the whole movie. In any case, while reading, I found parts of it familiar. It felt like the time I visited Paris for the first time and when I went to see the Hotel de Ville, it felt familiar to me, even though I'd never set eyes on it before. Something about Europe and its old buildings and architecture stirred recognition in my mind. I associated the Hotel de Ville with vampires that first time I saw it. It was comforting and mysterious at the same time.
While this is a horror book, I found myself being drawn in by the experiential nature of the writing. To be curious about and exposed to a way of life so different than any of us could ever know and thinking philosophically about existence. Anne Rice brings us there. It's not perfect and at times may conflict, but I felt like I was there in the 1700's in New Orleans, there in the 1800's in Paris, there in the 1990's in San Francisco, considering and engaging in the thoughts and philosophies of a vampire.
"I understood now the difference between us. For me the experience of killing had been cataclysmic. So had that of sucking Lestat's wrist. These experiences so overwhelmed and so changed my view of everything around me, from the picture of my brother on the parlor wall to the sight of a single star in the topmost pane of the French window, that I could not imagine another vampire taking them for granted. I was altered, permanently; I knew it. And what I felt, most profoundly, for everything, even the sound of the playing cards being laid down one by oe upon the shining rows of the solitaire was respect. Lestat felt the opposite. Or he felt nothing." pg. 31
"And I would see her sweet and palpable before me, a shimmering, precious creature soon to grow old, soon to die, soon to lose these moments that in their intangibility promised to us, wrongly . . . wrongly, an immortality. As if it were our very birthright, which we could not come to grasp the meaning of until this time of middle life when we looked on only as many years ahead as already lay behind us. When every moment, every moment must be first known and then savored." pg. 38
"New Orleans was then a city of many low buildings, as you probably know. And on such clear nights as this, the lamplit streets were beautiful from the high windows of this new Spanish hotel; and the stars of those days hung low over such dim light as they do at sea." pg. 77
"The great adventure of our lives. What does it mean to die when you can live until the end of the world? And what is 'the end of the world' except a phrase, because who knows even what is the world itself? I had now lived in two centuries, seen the illusions of one utterly shattered by the other, been eternally young and eternally ancient, possessing no illusions, living moment to moment in a way that made me picture a silver clock ticking in a void: the painted face, the delicately carved hands looked upon by no one, looking out at no one, illuminated by a light which was not a light, like the light by which God made the world before He had made light. Ticking, ticking, ticking, the precision of the clock, in a room as vast as the universe." pg. 139
"I wanted those [Mediterranean Sea] waters to be blue. And they were not. They were the nighttime waters, and how I suffered then, straining to remember the seas that a young man's untutored senses had taken for granted, that an undisciplined memory had let slip away for eternity." pg. 164
"How many vampires do you think have the stamina for immortality? They have the most dismal notions of immortality to begin with. For in becoming immortal they want all the forms of their life to be fixed as they are and incorruptible: carriages made in the same dependable fashion, clothing of the cut which suited their prime, men attired and speaking in the manner they have always understood and valued. When, in fact, all things change except the vampire himself; everything except the vampire is subject to constant corruption and distortion. Soon, with an inflexible mind, and often even with the most flexible mind, this immortality becomes a penitential sentence in a madhouse of figures and forms that are hopelessly unintelligible and without value. One evening a vampire rises and realizes what he has feared perhaps for decades, that he simply wants no more of life at any cost. That whatever style or fashion or shape of existence made immortality attractive to him has been swept off the face of the earth. And nothing remains to offer freedom from despair except the act of killing. And that vampire goes out to die. No one will find his remains. No one will know where he has gone. And often no one around him--should he still seek the company of other vampires--no one will know that he is in despair. He will have ceased long ago to speak of himself or of anything. He will vanish." pg. 280-281
Book: borrowed from SSF Main Library.
While this is a horror book, I found myself being drawn in by the experiential nature of the writing. To be curious about and exposed to a way of life so different than any of us could ever know and thinking philosophically about existence. Anne Rice brings us there. It's not perfect and at times may conflict, but I felt like I was there in the 1700's in New Orleans, there in the 1800's in Paris, there in the 1990's in San Francisco, considering and engaging in the thoughts and philosophies of a vampire.
"I understood now the difference between us. For me the experience of killing had been cataclysmic. So had that of sucking Lestat's wrist. These experiences so overwhelmed and so changed my view of everything around me, from the picture of my brother on the parlor wall to the sight of a single star in the topmost pane of the French window, that I could not imagine another vampire taking them for granted. I was altered, permanently; I knew it. And what I felt, most profoundly, for everything, even the sound of the playing cards being laid down one by oe upon the shining rows of the solitaire was respect. Lestat felt the opposite. Or he felt nothing." pg. 31
"And I would see her sweet and palpable before me, a shimmering, precious creature soon to grow old, soon to die, soon to lose these moments that in their intangibility promised to us, wrongly . . . wrongly, an immortality. As if it were our very birthright, which we could not come to grasp the meaning of until this time of middle life when we looked on only as many years ahead as already lay behind us. When every moment, every moment must be first known and then savored." pg. 38
"New Orleans was then a city of many low buildings, as you probably know. And on such clear nights as this, the lamplit streets were beautiful from the high windows of this new Spanish hotel; and the stars of those days hung low over such dim light as they do at sea." pg. 77
"The great adventure of our lives. What does it mean to die when you can live until the end of the world? And what is 'the end of the world' except a phrase, because who knows even what is the world itself? I had now lived in two centuries, seen the illusions of one utterly shattered by the other, been eternally young and eternally ancient, possessing no illusions, living moment to moment in a way that made me picture a silver clock ticking in a void: the painted face, the delicately carved hands looked upon by no one, looking out at no one, illuminated by a light which was not a light, like the light by which God made the world before He had made light. Ticking, ticking, ticking, the precision of the clock, in a room as vast as the universe." pg. 139
"I wanted those [Mediterranean Sea] waters to be blue. And they were not. They were the nighttime waters, and how I suffered then, straining to remember the seas that a young man's untutored senses had taken for granted, that an undisciplined memory had let slip away for eternity." pg. 164
"How many vampires do you think have the stamina for immortality? They have the most dismal notions of immortality to begin with. For in becoming immortal they want all the forms of their life to be fixed as they are and incorruptible: carriages made in the same dependable fashion, clothing of the cut which suited their prime, men attired and speaking in the manner they have always understood and valued. When, in fact, all things change except the vampire himself; everything except the vampire is subject to constant corruption and distortion. Soon, with an inflexible mind, and often even with the most flexible mind, this immortality becomes a penitential sentence in a madhouse of figures and forms that are hopelessly unintelligible and without value. One evening a vampire rises and realizes what he has feared perhaps for decades, that he simply wants no more of life at any cost. That whatever style or fashion or shape of existence made immortality attractive to him has been swept off the face of the earth. And nothing remains to offer freedom from despair except the act of killing. And that vampire goes out to die. No one will find his remains. No one will know where he has gone. And often no one around him--should he still seek the company of other vampires--no one will know that he is in despair. He will have ceased long ago to speak of himself or of anything. He will vanish." pg. 280-281
Book: borrowed from SSF Main Library.