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A review by hux
Nadja by André Breton
3.0
Not sure how to review this. It's a book which is less about story and more about ideas. But it does have a story of some fragile state, one which is broadly understood to be a man meeting a woman (Nadja) and developing a relationship with her before she succumbs to mental illness. There are themes regarding art and beauty and pictures throughout the book, their intention (I suppose) being to reiterate the grounded reality of such an ethereal narrative.
Really, it's the writing that's fascinating. It's like being trapped in a dream where the words are light as a feather and have no tangible quality. It would be tempting to describe it as stream-of-consciousness but it goes beyond that (and certainly beyond my interpretation of that writing style). Here, the writing is at once academic and yet matter-of-fact, poetic but simple. Again, it's hard to describe what I mean but all I can say is that while I was reading it, I felt like I was slightly intoxicated, swirling around in the surrealist ideas of Breton, his gentle touch, but never wandering too far from reality itself (or a comforting version of it).
It reminded me a little of Tropisms by Sarraute in the sense that you can't entirely pin it down. It's always vague and obscure but always very readable. I really can't clarify more effectively than that other than to say, I enjoyed it. Plus any book that starts with the words 'Who am I?' has to be worth reading if you ask me.
Really, it's the writing that's fascinating. It's like being trapped in a dream where the words are light as a feather and have no tangible quality. It would be tempting to describe it as stream-of-consciousness but it goes beyond that (and certainly beyond my interpretation of that writing style). Here, the writing is at once academic and yet matter-of-fact, poetic but simple. Again, it's hard to describe what I mean but all I can say is that while I was reading it, I felt like I was slightly intoxicated, swirling around in the surrealist ideas of Breton, his gentle touch, but never wandering too far from reality itself (or a comforting version of it).
It reminded me a little of Tropisms by Sarraute in the sense that you can't entirely pin it down. It's always vague and obscure but always very readable. I really can't clarify more effectively than that other than to say, I enjoyed it. Plus any book that starts with the words 'Who am I?' has to be worth reading if you ask me.