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bengriffin's review against another edition
2.0
This didn't do much for me. Whether it was because I didn't give it my full attention or because I lack the familiarity with the novels discussed, I don't know. Mostly, it just seemed to be a bit precious and lacking the profound insights I would normally expect from Kundera. Rather than casting new light or opinions on the novel it seemed more like an excuse to wallow in his sophisticated choice of reading material. I definitely appear to be in the minority though, so perhaps I should try reading this again if I ever become more cultured. Maybe then it won't leave me feeling so cold.
neerajams's review
4.0
I thoroughly enjoyed The Curtain, Milan Kundera's series of short essays on the history of the novel. It doesn't contain any earth-shattering insight, but its genius lies in Kundera's ability to take all of the various brief thoughts on literature that may have flitted in and out of your head and put them together far more concretely and concisely than you ever could.
On the whole, the essays are truly entertaining and very accessible. Though I haven't read many of the books he references (the expected list of Madame Bovary and Ulysses that are continuously on the back burner of my "to read" list but that I never actually plan to read), the examples are used in such a way that it doesn't matter.
Definitely worth reading for anyone who enjoys reading.
On the whole, the essays are truly entertaining and very accessible. Though I haven't read many of the books he references (the expected list of Madame Bovary and Ulysses that are continuously on the back burner of my "to read" list but that I never actually plan to read), the examples are used in such a way that it doesn't matter.
Definitely worth reading for anyone who enjoys reading.
hannahtosh's review against another edition
5.0
The passion Kundera writes with about reading is infectious, so much so that I would quote this book in its entirety if I could.
'Alas, miracles do not endure for long. What takes flight will one day come to earth. In anguish I imagine a time when art shall cease to seek out the never-said and will go docilely back into the service of the collective life that requires it to render repetition beautiful and help the individual merge, at peace and with joy, into the uniformity of being.
For the history of art is perishable. The babble of art is eternal.
'Alas, miracles do not endure for long. What takes flight will one day come to earth. In anguish I imagine a time when art shall cease to seek out the never-said and will go docilely back into the service of the collective life that requires it to render repetition beautiful and help the individual merge, at peace and with joy, into the uniformity of being.
For the history of art is perishable. The babble of art is eternal.
christianbistriceanu's review against another edition
informative
inspiring
reflective
medium-paced
5.0
kristymartino's review
4.0
If anyone could force me to read any 19th century French literature, it's Kundera. As far as I can tell, he seems right on in regards to most of his critical topics. My favorite section being, "Kitsch and Vulgarity." Kundera tells of a situation where a friend doesn't get the joke he makes. "what held us apart was the clash of two aesthetic attitudes: the man allergic to kitsch collides with the man allergic to vulgarity." I have to say, I'm on Kundera's side for sure.
hannahtosh's review against another edition
5.0
The passion Kundera writes with about reading is infectious, so much so that I would quote this book in its entirety if I could.
'Alas, miracles do not endure for long. What takes flight will one day come to earth. In anguish I imagine a time when art shall cease to seek out the never-said and will go docilely back into the service of the collective life that requires it to render repetition beautiful and help the individual merge, at peace and with joy, into the uniformity of being.
For the history of art is perishable. The babble of art is eternal.
'Alas, miracles do not endure for long. What takes flight will one day come to earth. In anguish I imagine a time when art shall cease to seek out the never-said and will go docilely back into the service of the collective life that requires it to render repetition beautiful and help the individual merge, at peace and with joy, into the uniformity of being.
For the history of art is perishable. The babble of art is eternal.