sophieecook's review
5.0
‘True art means seeking to capture the unreal’ If this is the case (as i suspect it is), then this book is simultaneously true art and something entirely different. The feelings of authenticity in the fearless descriptions of the human condition in this novel are strikingly real, yet the beauty and subtle grace of ‘Second Place’ could only be described as surreal.
ferris_mx's review
5.0
A delightfully complicated bookend for 2022. There's a lot of complexity, depth, and wisdom in this novel. I really appreciated perspectives on first and second marriages, parenting, and in a way, transgender identity.
bbboeken's review against another edition
4.0
(I keep hesitating between three and a half and a full four stars.)
By her own account, Second Place is heavily inspired by Mabel Dodge Luhan's Lorenzo in Taos, which tells of the author's encounter and intense relationship with writer D. H. Lawrence (yes, he of Lady Chatterley's Lover fame).
People who are aware of said memoir might find the names of some of the characters in Cusk's novel strangely familiar (such as Robinson Jeffers and Brett Johnson). At least one (Guardian) review claims that "the book doesn’t fully make sense without reading Luhan, and even then it’s a close thing." It's obvious that the novel can be read on its own --and it's a worthy read too, even though the main character is unreliable and not easy to like-- but still the Guardian's claim makes me all the more curious about that memoir.
Lady Chatterley has been on my reading list for a long time, and I've now added Luhan's memoir, a hefty 320 pages (the text is freely and legally available from https://archive.org/details/in.ernet.dli.2015.475767). Let's see if this sheds any light.
By her own account, Second Place is heavily inspired by Mabel Dodge Luhan's Lorenzo in Taos, which tells of the author's encounter and intense relationship with writer D. H. Lawrence (yes, he of Lady Chatterley's Lover fame).
People who are aware of said memoir might find the names of some of the characters in Cusk's novel strangely familiar (such as Robinson Jeffers and Brett Johnson). At least one (Guardian) review claims that "the book doesn’t fully make sense without reading Luhan, and even then it’s a close thing." It's obvious that the novel can be read on its own --and it's a worthy read too, even though the main character is unreliable and not easy to like-- but still the Guardian's claim makes me all the more curious about that memoir.
Lady Chatterley has been on my reading list for a long time, and I've now added Luhan's memoir, a hefty 320 pages (the text is freely and legally available from https://archive.org/details/in.ernet.dli.2015.475767). Let's see if this sheds any light.
unroxy's review against another edition
emotional
reflective
tense
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.0
ichirofakename's review
5.0
This is an immaculately written, intelligent, insightful philosophical novel. The story is deeply awful. Proceed at your own risk. About love and art and people not getting along.
caitlinmakesstuff's review
dark
reflective
fast-paced
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
2.0
yatinarora's review against another edition
reflective
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
2.0
annesofielovesliterature's review against another edition
challenging
dark
reflective
medium-paced
3.0
gorecki's review against another edition
3.0
And the day I finished my first Rachel Cusk novel finally arrived (a couple of weeks ago). I’ve been mulling over this one ever since I finished it and I still can’t seem to get over all the mixed feelings I have for it. On the one hand, it was very intelligent, remarkably quotable and filled with the finest of introspection, but at the same time I felt it very often shifted towards pretentiousness, whining and… lack of sense.
The story, told by M, is a sort of reimagining of D. H. Lawrence’s stay at Taos, an artist colony, as told by Mabel Dodge Luhan in her memoir from the 1930’s. The main character, M., invites a famous painter into her remote home surrounded by marshes and the sea where he can stay as long as he likes and paint. And as easily as that the book veers into all the clichés there are about art and famous painters.
As usual with introspective and contemplative books, I was blown away by some of the writing and couldn’t stop marking up quotes I would love to get back to again later, quotes I still find quite brilliant. “Still”, because the more I read, the more annoyed I started becoming by the pomposity of another side of the book that seems to build up with every next page. Some of the writing is brilliant, but some sounds like a senseless cluster of fancy words which I had to read a few times before realising they are not clustered to make sense, but to sound fancy and smart. I feel this is one of those books that, as fine as the writing is in many places, is purposely overcomplicated and pompous just to dazzle its readers with its ungraspable intelligence. A book you just have to say you loved, because otherwise everyone would think you’re just not smart enough and have missed the point. The point being a meaningless combination of big words. The cherry on top for me personally was when M., this composed, intelligent and otherwise strong character, had a major breakdown because said painter refused to make her portrait. It just diminished everything she said until then.
So yes, I have some rather conflicting feelings: the finest quotes I’ve found in a book in the past couple of years and the most jarring non-sensical art intellectualism.
The story, told by M, is a sort of reimagining of D. H. Lawrence’s stay at Taos, an artist colony, as told by Mabel Dodge Luhan in her memoir from the 1930’s. The main character, M., invites a famous painter into her remote home surrounded by marshes and the sea where he can stay as long as he likes and paint. And as easily as that the book veers into all the clichés there are about art and famous painters.
As usual with introspective and contemplative books, I was blown away by some of the writing and couldn’t stop marking up quotes I would love to get back to again later, quotes I still find quite brilliant. “Still”, because the more I read, the more annoyed I started becoming by the pomposity of another side of the book that seems to build up with every next page. Some of the writing is brilliant, but some sounds like a senseless cluster of fancy words which I had to read a few times before realising they are not clustered to make sense, but to sound fancy and smart. I feel this is one of those books that, as fine as the writing is in many places, is purposely overcomplicated and pompous just to dazzle its readers with its ungraspable intelligence. A book you just have to say you loved, because otherwise everyone would think you’re just not smart enough and have missed the point. The point being a meaningless combination of big words. The cherry on top for me personally was when M., this composed, intelligent and otherwise strong character, had a major breakdown because said painter refused to make her portrait. It just diminished everything she said until then.
So yes, I have some rather conflicting feelings: the finest quotes I’ve found in a book in the past couple of years and the most jarring non-sensical art intellectualism.