A review by folkiara
Un romanzo russo by Emmanuel Carrère

4.0

i don't know why did i choose to reread this: this book is a mess in every aspect. it's a mess, disorganized, almost jumbled in its desperate attempt at tackling way too many themes, and, despite the remarkable style, carrère writes in a stream of consciousness-esque way, following the train of his frantic thoughts. i also realised that carrère annoys me in a way no one else has, with his unbeliavable arrogance and his haughtiness and his thinking that he's better than anyone else and his constant denigration of people, including his own fucking girlfriend.
what i know is that this book broke my heart more than once. what i know is that i found myself in carrère's anguish and his fears and his lack of trust towards the people he loves. whay i know is that a terrible feeling of loneliness, of helpnessness permeate this book, a reflection on how fleeting life actually is.
there are some books that just find you.