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constantlorelai 's review for:
Solaris
by Stanisław Lem
I wanted to read this book and somehow managed to find reasons to postpone it for around 8 years. Mixed feelings, to be really honest. Because it had the most mind-haunting images carried inside its covers, the most brilliant and gut-wrenching philosophical and oh-so purely humanistic views on the nature of consciousness and self-identity, all mixed with some bizarre long fictitious small internal histories of the solaristic studies, experiments, research theories - which I get the point of ultimately, in giving the whole microcosm of the space station both some gravitas and some fundament to the life purpose of the three men living on it.
But i have the nagging feeling that most of the points made by the long interjections placed in the otherwise beautiful pacing of the book could have been avoided. Absolutely loved the ending, saw Tarkovsky's take on it and I dare say he did a supremely more romantic take on the whole story (romantic in a sort of love for human suffering sort of way).
In the end, there is a lingering feeling that the rhythm of the novel and Kelvin's inner thought process ondulates onctuously, in thick heavy waves, just as the ones hitting the shores of the rare mimoids of Solaris.
P S. Snaut and Sartorius were real jerks to Kelvin, imo.
But i have the nagging feeling that most of the points made by the long interjections placed in the otherwise beautiful pacing of the book could have been avoided. Absolutely loved the ending, saw Tarkovsky's take on it and I dare say he did a supremely more romantic take on the whole story (romantic in a sort of love for human suffering sort of way).
In the end, there is a lingering feeling that the rhythm of the novel and Kelvin's inner thought process ondulates onctuously, in thick heavy waves, just as the ones hitting the shores of the rare mimoids of Solaris.
P S. Snaut and Sartorius were real jerks to Kelvin, imo.