sashweana's review against another edition
inspiring
reflective
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? N/A
- Loveable characters? N/A
- Diverse cast of characters? N/A
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
5.0
choupitali's review
3.0
C'est dans un style d'écriture très simple qu'Andy Weir nous livre son récit. La situation est amorcée en sept phrases, via un narrateur à la première personne. Un homme est mort dans un accident de voiture, laissant derrière lui une femme et deux enfants, puis cet homme a rencontré le narrateur. S'ensuit alors un dialogue où l'homme apprend le sens de la vie.
Ce système de narration est un excellent choix. On comprend très vite que le narrateur est une sorte de dieu, et que ce dialogue n'est pas seulement une leçon pour l'homme auquel il s'adresse, mais également pour nous, lecteurs. Le personnage adopte une conduite paternelle, expliquant à un enfant qu'il a encore beaucoup à apprendre, et par le biais de ce dialogue, le lecteur s'introduit imperceptiblement dans la peau de l'homme décédé. En effet, les nombreuses questions qu'il pose au narrateur sont celle qui nous viendrait instinctivement à l'esprit, d'où l'ingéniosité de la construction du récit.
Cependant, la force de ce texte se trouve dans le message qu'il divulgue. La révélation du narrateur sur le sens de la vie est certes plutôt classique, mais sa présentation est originale et provoque un impact plus grand.
Le récit repose essentiellement sur la dualité qui gère le monde à commencer par la plus évidente, l'opposition entre la vie et la mort. C'est dans cette optique qu'il est évoqué que l'être humain possède à la fois du bon et du mauvais en lui. Mais c'est également une différence qui existe les deux personnages : l'expérience. Au-delà de l'homme, c'est l'humanité entière qui est comparée à un fœtus devant apprendre de ses erreurs, de ses actes, et mûrir grâce à cela. Cette histoire rappelle à chacun que l'autre est semblable, qu'il possède les mêmes travers, les mêmes qualités, et que nous n'en sommes qu'à l'aube du genre humain.
Finalement, The Egg propose un message d'unité qui paraît peut-être réchauffé, mais dont il est toujours bon de se souvenir. Une véritable leçon de vie et de philosophie qui nous interroge sur notre propre existence et sur celle d'autrui.
Ce système de narration est un excellent choix. On comprend très vite que le narrateur est une sorte de dieu, et que ce dialogue n'est pas seulement une leçon pour l'homme auquel il s'adresse, mais également pour nous, lecteurs. Le personnage adopte une conduite paternelle, expliquant à un enfant qu'il a encore beaucoup à apprendre, et par le biais de ce dialogue, le lecteur s'introduit imperceptiblement dans la peau de l'homme décédé. En effet, les nombreuses questions qu'il pose au narrateur sont celle qui nous viendrait instinctivement à l'esprit, d'où l'ingéniosité de la construction du récit.
Cependant, la force de ce texte se trouve dans le message qu'il divulgue. La révélation du narrateur sur le sens de la vie est certes plutôt classique, mais sa présentation est originale et provoque un impact plus grand.
Le récit repose essentiellement sur la dualité qui gère le monde à commencer par la plus évidente, l'opposition entre la vie et la mort. C'est dans cette optique qu'il est évoqué que l'être humain possède à la fois du bon et du mauvais en lui. Mais c'est également une différence qui existe les deux personnages : l'expérience. Au-delà de l'homme, c'est l'humanité entière qui est comparée à un fœtus devant apprendre de ses erreurs, de ses actes, et mûrir grâce à cela. Cette histoire rappelle à chacun que l'autre est semblable, qu'il possède les mêmes travers, les mêmes qualités, et que nous n'en sommes qu'à l'aube du genre humain.
Finalement, The Egg propose un message d'unité qui paraît peut-être réchauffé, mais dont il est toujours bon de se souvenir. Une véritable leçon de vie et de philosophie qui nous interroge sur notre propre existence et sur celle d'autrui.
xwritingstoriesx's review against another edition
emotional
hopeful
reflective
fast-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? It's complicated
4.75
orlywelch's review
5.0
Read this as a teenager and REALLY connected with it - I loved the idea so so much. It introduces Rawl's idea of the veil of ignorance in a fantastic fashion, and thinking about it/choosing to pretend it was true gave me a real sense of meaning. Only today did I make the connection that it was written by the author of The Martian, one of my favourite books! Very excited to read his new book (Project Hail Mary) coming out soon.
sunday91's review against another edition
reflective
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
4.5
rainpunk's review
5.0
Beautiful little short story about our responsibility to each other. It's not science fiction like the tags suggest. Philosophy/religion/myth fiction is more like it. It's about the nature of humanity and the life beyond this one.
Not a brand new philosophical outlook, but a clear, evocative take on a familiar philosophical/spiritual idea.
Not a brand new philosophical outlook, but a clear, evocative take on a familiar philosophical/spiritual idea.
yanners's review
2.0
Goodreads, I love you.
If I had the luxury of using an extended metaphor, you would’ve been an acquaintance I met at some unmemorable function, whose number I saved as your full name followed by ‘__’s friend’ in parentheses and promised to stay in contact with but never did. We went back to our old lives, never crossing paths again, only with you sending a holiday wish or two, and me ruthlessly greyticking you like every other duolingo email in my spam box.
Two years down the road, we’d have met again at some gathering with old friends and all of a sudden, something in the atmosphere changed. Newborn chemistry dancing across the room as our eyes meet, bringing everything else seems to a standstill. I found myself very much intoxicated, swathed in what one can only describe as a drunken haze.
Afterwards, we meet an ungodly number of times, an unspoken agreement hanging in the air, and most of my waking time is spent sending stickers and random GIFs over the phone.
That is, until the boundaries begin to blur. As the pace of life catches up with me, we find ourselves drifting again, each going our separate ways. You, however, begin dissolving into what I can only call a manic episode.
Every new day is met with equally distressing reminders; appointments gone unfulfilled, postponement after postponement. At first, you fret, but we always get right back on track. Soon enough, we lose contact entirely, long stretches of silence punctuated by the occasional reply. Messages left unread as our once thriving friendship begins to wither.
And finally, just as all hope is lost, we bump into each other again at a nearby cafe. The atmosphere is suffocating, a thick wall of awkwardness standing between us. We exchange hesitant smiles and empty salutations, the old familiarity gradually returning. Redemption.
Now one may think I am being overly melodramatic.
And I am, or at least that’s my intention all along so if this wasn’t dramatic enough for you then too bad.
At the beginning of the year, Goodreads and I had a mutually beneficial relationship. I was a frequent patron, and in return received free therapy from all the sarcasm its database had to offer. All was well and happy. I finally had a app on which I spent more time than I used to on TikTok (and it was a lot)
Until exams rolled around, and my (now-I-realise) ambitious reading goal began to fall behind. First ten, then twenty, and now a whopping seventy/eighty plus. Still, Goodreads’ optimism didn’t falter one bit, never forgetting to remind me about my impending deadline and horrible progress.
It’s 22 December now as I pen this and I’ve obviously accepted the fact that there’s no way I’m reaching my goal unless I start pulling all nighters and stop having a life.
Enter December 20
20 Dec will always be the momentous occasion when Goodreads’ pushy-ness led me to do some exploration which then led me to stumble upon an absolute JEM. Apparently (and I realise I’m quite the noob for realising it this late in) you can sort want to read books by page numbers.
#HACKS
This may seem trivial, but as Sun Tzu once said, “any small advantage can be used to gain a great achievement if only you use it wisely” (he didn’t actually say that so if any descendants of Sun Tzu sees this please don’t sue me)
In the past, the way I decide what to read next is to scroll through the list, see which title and cover I can vibe with, check if the library has an available copy, and spend the next hour reading reviews about it without even having read it yet.
In other words, as inefficient as one can get.
Now, this GODSEND of a feature helped me read five “books” in like an afternoon. And it’s “books” with the “” because this feels a lot like cheating but I’m not gonna admit it. Goodreads counts The Egg as a book even if it’s three pages so don’t blame me, blame the system.
This isn’t even a review. But then again my reviews rarely count as actual reviews so it’s nothing new either. jUsT LeT mE uNeLeGaNtLy sPeW mY tHoUgHtS oUt wiLL yA
Tl;dr I love you Goodreads I promise to always stay loyal to you so please stop guilt tripping me I’ll make up for it by setting a lower goal next year (no I’m not being held at gunpoint I’m writing this of my own free will)
2.5 stars
If I had the luxury of using an extended metaphor, you would’ve been an acquaintance I met at some unmemorable function, whose number I saved as your full name followed by ‘__’s friend’ in parentheses and promised to stay in contact with but never did. We went back to our old lives, never crossing paths again, only with you sending a holiday wish or two, and me ruthlessly greyticking you like every other duolingo email in my spam box.
Two years down the road, we’d have met again at some gathering with old friends and all of a sudden, something in the atmosphere changed. Newborn chemistry dancing across the room as our eyes meet, bringing everything else seems to a standstill. I found myself very much intoxicated, swathed in what one can only describe as a drunken haze.
Afterwards, we meet an ungodly number of times, an unspoken agreement hanging in the air, and most of my waking time is spent sending stickers and random GIFs over the phone.
That is, until the boundaries begin to blur. As the pace of life catches up with me, we find ourselves drifting again, each going our separate ways. You, however, begin dissolving into what I can only call a manic episode.
Every new day is met with equally distressing reminders; appointments gone unfulfilled, postponement after postponement. At first, you fret, but we always get right back on track. Soon enough, we lose contact entirely, long stretches of silence punctuated by the occasional reply. Messages left unread as our once thriving friendship begins to wither.
And finally, just as all hope is lost, we bump into each other again at a nearby cafe. The atmosphere is suffocating, a thick wall of awkwardness standing between us. We exchange hesitant smiles and empty salutations, the old familiarity gradually returning. Redemption.
Now one may think I am being overly melodramatic.
And I am, or at least that’s my intention all along so if this wasn’t dramatic enough for you then too bad.
At the beginning of the year, Goodreads and I had a mutually beneficial relationship. I was a frequent patron, and in return received free therapy from all the sarcasm its database had to offer. All was well and happy. I finally had a app on which I spent more time than I used to on TikTok (and it was a lot)
Until exams rolled around, and my (now-I-realise) ambitious reading goal began to fall behind. First ten, then twenty, and now a whopping seventy/eighty plus. Still, Goodreads’ optimism didn’t falter one bit, never forgetting to remind me about my impending deadline and horrible progress.
It’s 22 December now as I pen this and I’ve obviously accepted the fact that there’s no way I’m reaching my goal unless I start pulling all nighters and stop having a life.
Enter December 20
20 Dec will always be the momentous occasion when Goodreads’ pushy-ness led me to do some exploration which then led me to stumble upon an absolute JEM. Apparently (and I realise I’m quite the noob for realising it this late in) you can sort want to read books by page numbers.
#HACKS
This may seem trivial, but as Sun Tzu once said, “any small advantage can be used to gain a great achievement if only you use it wisely” (he didn’t actually say that so if any descendants of Sun Tzu sees this please don’t sue me)
In the past, the way I decide what to read next is to scroll through the list, see which title and cover I can vibe with, check if the library has an available copy, and spend the next hour reading reviews about it without even having read it yet.
In other words, as inefficient as one can get.
Now, this GODSEND of a feature helped me read five “books” in like an afternoon. And it’s “books” with the “” because this feels a lot like cheating but I’m not gonna admit it. Goodreads counts The Egg as a book even if it’s three pages so don’t blame me, blame the system.
This isn’t even a review. But then again my reviews rarely count as actual reviews so it’s nothing new either. jUsT LeT mE uNeLeGaNtLy sPeW mY tHoUgHtS oUt wiLL yA
Tl;dr I love you Goodreads I promise to always stay loyal to you so please stop guilt tripping me I’ll make up for it by setting a lower goal next year (no I’m not being held at gunpoint I’m writing this of my own free will)
2.5 stars