emmauwilson's review against another edition
5.0
INCREDIBLE I love crazy people ❤️
“Shall we sharpen our eyes and circle closer to the beauty of the husband—
carefully, for he was on fire.
under him the floor was on fire,
the world was on fire,
truth was on fire.
Around him green fire blew straight off every tree.”
“Shall we sharpen our eyes and circle closer to the beauty of the husband—
carefully, for he was on fire.
under him the floor was on fire,
the world was on fire,
truth was on fire.
Around him green fire blew straight off every tree.”
pariah735's review against another edition
I started reading this when I was younger, so I didn’t understand a whole lot. I liked the writing style and will probably pick it up when I have the time.
unavirgoandaleyendo's review against another edition
4.0
Poesía que llega al alma. Hermoso y triste. Anne Carson es una gran escritora y su original forma de relatarnos esta historia de (des) amor lo demuestra mucho
livelaughstevebuchemi's review against another edition
challenging
dark
emotional
inspiring
reflective
sad
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
rayuelita's review against another edition
4.0
He leído la edición de Lumen.
El original es perfecto, la traducción es soporífera.
El original es perfecto, la traducción es soporífera.
shanviolinlove's review against another edition
5.0
Formidable writing.
Anne Carson's poetry asks bold questions, sometimes in the backdrop and sometimes in the forefront of a scene played between husband and wife, between wife and husband's friend, calling Keats' famous truth and beauty into the crumbling structure of love and marriage.
Carson's intelligent, probing voice wields the story she creates with Keats' work, with allusions to fiction, to classic mythology, casting the story of love and adultery in the universal work. By far one of the best books of poetry I've read this year.
Anne Carson's poetry asks bold questions, sometimes in the backdrop and sometimes in the forefront of a scene played between husband and wife, between wife and husband's friend, calling Keats' famous truth and beauty into the crumbling structure of love and marriage.
Carson's intelligent, probing voice wields the story she creates with Keats' work, with allusions to fiction, to classic mythology, casting the story of love and adultery in the universal work. By far one of the best books of poetry I've read this year.
shaunnow38's review against another edition
reflective
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? N/A
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
julienbakerstan69's review against another edition
4.0
quarantine 7: imo this is AC at her best
"i broke the glass and jumped.
now of course you know
that isn't the true story, what broke wasn't glass, what fell to earth wasn't body." — iii
"we have this deep sadness between us and its spells so habitual i
can't
tell it from love.
you want a clean life i live a dirty one old story. well.
not much use to you without you am i." — iv
"desire doubled is love and love doubled is madness." — viii
"why did nature give me over to this creature—don't call it my choice,
i was ventured:
by some pure gravity of existence itself,
conspiracy of being!
we were fifteen.
it was latin class, late spring, late afternoon, the passive periphrastic,
for some reason i turned in my seat
and there he was.
you know how they say a Zen butcher makes one correct cut and the whole ox
falls apart
like a puzzle." — xi
"it stung him,
the pathos of her keen hearing.
there she stood a person with particular traits,
a certain heart, life beating on its way in her." — xii
"her voice sounded broken into. where were you last night.
dread slits his breath.
oh no
he can hear her choosing another arrow now from the little quiver
and anger goes straight up like trees in her voice holding
his heart tall.
i only feel clean he says suddenly when i wake up with you." — xiv
"antilogic is the dance of the dog in hell happy to eat any food that grows but do they not say the same of a dog in heaven" — xv
"she looks up from her work, deep
in the pleasure of it as he can see, something about her
blinds him.
he's out she says.
together
they watch stray drops of this fact condense on the air between them.
some call it love
but those two whose souls knit at that moment
as the soul of jonathan was knit with the soul of david
did not love each other.
how much simpler that would have been." — xvi
"over and over in later years when she told this story she marvelled
at her husband's ability to place the world within brackets.
a bracket's worth of mirage! all he ever needed." — xxii
"watches him
bend slightly toward the woman then back. they are both serious.
their seriousness wracks her.
people who can be serious together, it goes deep.
they have a bottle of mineral water on the table between them
and two glasses.
no inebriants necessary!" — xxiv
"what are the alps like?
from the plane they look fragile like pieces of pottery. thin silences float inbetween." — xxv
"it was like a beautiful boiling dance where your partner
turns
and stabs you to death,
cauldron of red sicilian moon and white greek lips." — xxv
"physicists agree
there is something mysterious about the beginning of the universe.
its appearance of fine tuning they say needs to be explained.
looking back, its all so neat." — xxvii
"after all the heart is not a small stone
to be rolled this way and that.
the mind is not a box
to be shut fast.
and yet it is! it is!
well life has some risks. love is one. terrible risks." — xxix
"i broke the glass and jumped.
now of course you know
that isn't the true story, what broke wasn't glass, what fell to earth wasn't body." — iii
"we have this deep sadness between us and its spells so habitual i
can't
tell it from love.
you want a clean life i live a dirty one old story. well.
not much use to you without you am i." — iv
"desire doubled is love and love doubled is madness." — viii
"why did nature give me over to this creature—don't call it my choice,
i was ventured:
by some pure gravity of existence itself,
conspiracy of being!
we were fifteen.
it was latin class, late spring, late afternoon, the passive periphrastic,
for some reason i turned in my seat
and there he was.
you know how they say a Zen butcher makes one correct cut and the whole ox
falls apart
like a puzzle." — xi
"it stung him,
the pathos of her keen hearing.
there she stood a person with particular traits,
a certain heart, life beating on its way in her." — xii
"her voice sounded broken into. where were you last night.
dread slits his breath.
oh no
he can hear her choosing another arrow now from the little quiver
and anger goes straight up like trees in her voice holding
his heart tall.
i only feel clean he says suddenly when i wake up with you." — xiv
"antilogic is the dance of the dog in hell happy to eat any food that grows but do they not say the same of a dog in heaven" — xv
"she looks up from her work, deep
in the pleasure of it as he can see, something about her
blinds him.
he's out she says.
together
they watch stray drops of this fact condense on the air between them.
some call it love
but those two whose souls knit at that moment
as the soul of jonathan was knit with the soul of david
did not love each other.
how much simpler that would have been." — xvi
"over and over in later years when she told this story she marvelled
at her husband's ability to place the world within brackets.
a bracket's worth of mirage! all he ever needed." — xxii
"watches him
bend slightly toward the woman then back. they are both serious.
their seriousness wracks her.
people who can be serious together, it goes deep.
they have a bottle of mineral water on the table between them
and two glasses.
no inebriants necessary!" — xxiv
"what are the alps like?
from the plane they look fragile like pieces of pottery. thin silences float inbetween." — xxv
"it was like a beautiful boiling dance where your partner
turns
and stabs you to death,
cauldron of red sicilian moon and white greek lips." — xxv
"physicists agree
there is something mysterious about the beginning of the universe.
its appearance of fine tuning they say needs to be explained.
looking back, its all so neat." — xxvii
"after all the heart is not a small stone
to be rolled this way and that.
the mind is not a box
to be shut fast.
and yet it is! it is!
well life has some risks. love is one. terrible risks." — xxix