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A review by houk
Selected Works of Miguel de Unamuno, Volume 4: The Tragic Sense of Life in Men and Nations by Miguel de Unamuno
i don’t feel that i’m equipped with the skillset nor the vocabulary to effectively and accurately rate/review this text, especially given the context with which i’m approaching it. with that in mind, i’ll proceed.
the work is blessed with an exquisitely adept translator (i have to imagine, for it must be a great labor to translate what must be even more stunning prose in its initial language). i always feel a loss when reading a translated work, a sadness at the experience i will never know as a non-native speaker. that loss is slightly minimized at the hands of a talented translator, which i believe kerrigan is.
the text is ripe with literary references, making the reading experience much richer. i’m thoroughly impressed with the frequency and relevancy of the chosen references, and i appreciate the overwhelming admiration and sincerity with which unamuno speaks of the authors he highlights. it’s particularly easy to see why he enjoyed (one of my favorite works) whitman’s leaves of grass, in particular. he mentions this quite early into the text, and has clearly been influenced in poetic style by the great writer. at the same time, his work provokes the reader to make connections of their own. i, at least, could not help but find them nearly everywhere; perhaps that speaks more to my method of understanding philosophical literature than the work itself. (or maybe it’s both!)
most notably, i wish i had been able to enter the final section with a greater understanding of don quixote. somehow, i still haven’t gotten around to that monster of a classic, though i now have been thoroughly sold and motivated to give it a shot. i’d love to explore how differently i’m able to engage with this section after reading it.
i’m excited already to return to this text. to gain a greater understanding of it, and to allow myself to shift and grow with that understanding. this, i believe, is the mark of a masterful text. to be left with the feeling that you haven’t truly closed the book once you’ve read the final words. that you’ll never be finished with it.
the work is blessed with an exquisitely adept translator (i have to imagine, for it must be a great labor to translate what must be even more stunning prose in its initial language). i always feel a loss when reading a translated work, a sadness at the experience i will never know as a non-native speaker. that loss is slightly minimized at the hands of a talented translator, which i believe kerrigan is.
the text is ripe with literary references, making the reading experience much richer. i’m thoroughly impressed with the frequency and relevancy of the chosen references, and i appreciate the overwhelming admiration and sincerity with which unamuno speaks of the authors he highlights. it’s particularly easy to see why he enjoyed (one of my favorite works) whitman’s leaves of grass, in particular. he mentions this quite early into the text, and has clearly been influenced in poetic style by the great writer. at the same time, his work provokes the reader to make connections of their own. i, at least, could not help but find them nearly everywhere; perhaps that speaks more to my method of understanding philosophical literature than the work itself. (or maybe it’s both!)
most notably, i wish i had been able to enter the final section with a greater understanding of don quixote. somehow, i still haven’t gotten around to that monster of a classic, though i now have been thoroughly sold and motivated to give it a shot. i’d love to explore how differently i’m able to engage with this section after reading it.
i’m excited already to return to this text. to gain a greater understanding of it, and to allow myself to shift and grow with that understanding. this, i believe, is the mark of a masterful text. to be left with the feeling that you haven’t truly closed the book once you’ve read the final words. that you’ll never be finished with it.