A review by sadiesargar
The Rings of Saturn by W.G. Sebald

5.0

Where to even begin? This book is just as haunting to me now as it was when I first read it a decade ago. From my old marginalia, I can see that I had an entire system planned out in my reading, that like the silkweavers, I detected intricate patterns and was attempting to follow them, though for me it was enrapturing rather than enervating. I can’t say that I read it closely this time, but I think I may understand the book better — I think I feel a greater sense of time’s passing. When I was 25, I looked out at the world as though through a pinched aperture, and it limited how I could understand what I read here. Now, at 35, it’s easier for me to recognize that I bring myself to the text, which in turn makes it easier to let go of that a little bit. To be frank, I’m still not sure what Rings of Saturn is about, in the traditional sense. But I believe I’ll be reading it for the rest of my life — not so much to “get a grip” on it, but because it captures the sense of mourning and grief that comes with trying to make meaning in a world that often resists it. A beautiful book. My favorite book.