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jonfaith 's review for:
The Wild Ass's Skin
by Honoré de Balzac
He made fun of everything, his own prospects included. Always short of money, he remained, like all men with a future before them, wallowing in inexpressible idleness, condensing a whole book into one epigram for the benefit of people who were incapable of putting one witticism into a whole book. Lavish of promises that he never kept, he had made his fortune and reputation into a cushion on which he slept, thus running the risk of coming to his senses, as an old man, in an almshouse. With all that, keeping faith with his friends to the point of death, a swaggering cynic and as simple-hearted as a child, he worked only by fits and starts or under the spur of necessity.
This marked my return to Balzac, a welcome one after many years. When I spend time with my friends' children I make point of telling them to avoid Zola and stick with Balzac.
The Wild Ass's Skin is simply stunning. The depictions of emotional uncertainty and the fluctuations of fortune were remarkable. The display of ornate and obscure objects, avocations and sundry theory were equally compelling.
This marked my return to Balzac, a welcome one after many years. When I spend time with my friends' children I make point of telling them to avoid Zola and stick with Balzac.
The Wild Ass's Skin is simply stunning. The depictions of emotional uncertainty and the fluctuations of fortune were remarkable. The display of ornate and obscure objects, avocations and sundry theory were equally compelling.