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teresatumminello's review
4.0
I had found out more, I said, by listening than I ever thought possible.
In this second installment of a trilogy, the narrator Faye (only named once, as she was in the first book, [b:Outline|24368387|Outline|Rachel Cusk|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1422660380l/24368387._SX50_.jpg|40698498]) continues her listening ‘project,’ though with more of letting us into her life. She comes across as emotionless, almost affectless; but there’s no way she is. She just isn’t telling us, or even showing us, how she feels. As with one event in [b:Outline|24368387|Outline|Rachel Cusk|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1422660380l/24368387._SX50_.jpg|40698498], I supplied the emotion, though it didn’t happen until near the end.
We don’t really know how Faye feels during the struggles of house renovation, nasty neighbors, dealing with children, and more. We don’t know how she feels when the unnamed Chair of a literary festival makes a pass at her. We get only one hint of her emotion when another character, after asking Faye a question, notices she’s blushing.
Despite more glimpses into her life than in the first book, this book basically follows the same structure of recording, in Faye’s words, the stories of others. The most effective of these is the story of a “beautiful” dog, an example of “showing-not-telling” in Faye’s writing class, when she is initially silent as a student takes the teacher-role.
After finishing the book, I thought of the “beautiful” dog in contrast with the nasty neighbors’ pitiable dog. The image of Faye’s torn-up house as being ‘seen-through’ exists as a comparison to an earlier story told by one of the renovators. His story is of the house he built in Poland for his family; he purposely designed it to seem as if it had no outer or inner walls. There’s even more to be parsed.
A scene near the end is a perfectly rendered one of almost-absurdity, of almost laughing then almost crying—not by the characters, but by the reader. Also near the end, a character elaborates on how he had to train himself from subconsciously wanting ‘comfort food’ to consciously desiring the delicacies he now creates. I wonder if this is what Cusk is trying to do for her readers. Though I’ve commented on the ‘end,’ there’s nothing to spoil in this book: it’s all in the writing.
In this second installment of a trilogy, the narrator Faye (only named once, as she was in the first book, [b:Outline|24368387|Outline|Rachel Cusk|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1422660380l/24368387._SX50_.jpg|40698498]) continues her listening ‘project,’ though with more of letting us into her life. She comes across as emotionless, almost affectless; but there’s no way she is. She just isn’t telling us, or even showing us, how she feels. As with one event in [b:Outline|24368387|Outline|Rachel Cusk|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1422660380l/24368387._SX50_.jpg|40698498], I supplied the emotion, though it didn’t happen until near the end.
We don’t really know how Faye feels during the struggles of house renovation, nasty neighbors, dealing with children, and more. We don’t know how she feels when the unnamed Chair of a literary festival makes a pass at her. We get only one hint of her emotion when another character, after asking Faye a question, notices she’s blushing.
Despite more glimpses into her life than in the first book, this book basically follows the same structure of recording, in Faye’s words, the stories of others. The most effective of these is the story of a “beautiful” dog, an example of “showing-not-telling” in Faye’s writing class, when she is initially silent as a student takes the teacher-role.
After finishing the book, I thought of the “beautiful” dog in contrast with the nasty neighbors’ pitiable dog. The image of Faye’s torn-up house as being ‘seen-through’ exists as a comparison to an earlier story told by one of the renovators. His story is of the house he built in Poland for his family; he purposely designed it to seem as if it had no outer or inner walls. There’s even more to be parsed.
A scene near the end is a perfectly rendered one of almost-absurdity, of almost laughing then almost crying—not by the characters, but by the reader. Also near the end, a character elaborates on how he had to train himself from subconsciously wanting ‘comfort food’ to consciously desiring the delicacies he now creates. I wonder if this is what Cusk is trying to do for her readers. Though I’ve commented on the ‘end,’ there’s nothing to spoil in this book: it’s all in the writing.
fionnualalirsdottir's review against another edition
I watched as the reader glanced up from the page, sat for a moment without moving, then closed the book.
"That episode about the dog," she said, turning to me, "the episode where the creative writing student succeeded in conveying to the class that his dog was beautiful even though he didn't know how to explain it initially. What exactly did you intend in that episode?"
I asked what she thought I had intended.
"Well, I'm inclined to think you were making a point about the old 'show versus tell' chestnut," she said. While she had been reading Outline, she told me, she had had the thought that the book was something of a manifesto proclaiming that 'telling' can be as powerful a tool in writing as 'showing', and she had continued to ponder that notion as she made her way through Transit. When she had read the passage where the second student insisted that the first student show the class that the dog was beautiful instead of just telling them he was beautiful, she had thought I was setting readers up for a demonstration of some kind.
"And you were," she said. There were layers and layers of telling in the following pages, she went on, as readers were given not only the narrator's version of the first student's account of his involvement with the beautiful dog, but also his story of the woman he met in Nice, and her involvement with the same breed of dogs. And that story in turn included a story about a man the woman had met years before who trained such hunting dogs. At the end of that series of dog stories, which the reader claimed she had read with increasing interest, she told me that she understood why the dog was beautiful and that she had become completely reconciled to my 'recounting' technique, although while reading Outline, and even earlier sections of this book, she had felt frustrated by it.
I asked her why she had chosen to continue reading something that had frustrated her.
"I'm interested in your project," she answered, "which is why I picked up the second book, in spite of the amount of pluperfect tense I was certain it would contain!" She had never come across the word 'had' used so frequently in a text, she said, smiling. But, in spite of the pluperfect tense and the eternal recounting, she had been intrigued by the inner workings of a writer's life that were occasionally revealed in the books. She imagined the text as giving a glimpse of the way writing is arrived at. Or not arrived at, she added, turning to me with a quizzical look, since the narrator of both books, who is a writer after all, she pointed out, didn't seem to be in writing mode during Outline or Transit, yet...
Even while she was speaking to me about Faye not being in writing mode in the two books that existed in spite of that fact, she herself had taken up her iPad and had been typing furiously. I asked her what she was doing.
She took a minute to answer, her fingers flying across the virtual keyboard.
"Oh, you know," she replied at last, "something akin to what you and Faye do with your students, your hairdresser, your builder, the people you meet on planes and at literary forums."
"What exactly do you mean?" I asked, already anticipating the answer.
"I'm using you," she said.
And then she pressed Save
"That episode about the dog," she said, turning to me, "the episode where the creative writing student succeeded in conveying to the class that his dog was beautiful even though he didn't know how to explain it initially. What exactly did you intend in that episode?"
I asked what she thought I had intended.
"Well, I'm inclined to think you were making a point about the old 'show versus tell' chestnut," she said. While she had been reading Outline, she told me, she had had the thought that the book was something of a manifesto proclaiming that 'telling' can be as powerful a tool in writing as 'showing', and she had continued to ponder that notion as she made her way through Transit. When she had read the passage where the second student insisted that the first student show the class that the dog was beautiful instead of just telling them he was beautiful, she had thought I was setting readers up for a demonstration of some kind.
"And you were," she said. There were layers and layers of telling in the following pages, she went on, as readers were given not only the narrator's version of the first student's account of his involvement with the beautiful dog, but also his story of the woman he met in Nice, and her involvement with the same breed of dogs. And that story in turn included a story about a man the woman had met years before who trained such hunting dogs. At the end of that series of dog stories, which the reader claimed she had read with increasing interest, she told me that she understood why the dog was beautiful and that she had become completely reconciled to my 'recounting' technique, although while reading Outline, and even earlier sections of this book, she had felt frustrated by it.
I asked her why she had chosen to continue reading something that had frustrated her.
"I'm interested in your project," she answered, "which is why I picked up the second book, in spite of the amount of pluperfect tense I was certain it would contain!" She had never come across the word 'had' used so frequently in a text, she said, smiling. But, in spite of the pluperfect tense and the eternal recounting, she had been intrigued by the inner workings of a writer's life that were occasionally revealed in the books. She imagined the text as giving a glimpse of the way writing is arrived at. Or not arrived at, she added, turning to me with a quizzical look, since the narrator of both books, who is a writer after all, she pointed out, didn't seem to be in writing mode during Outline or Transit, yet...
Even while she was speaking to me about Faye not being in writing mode in the two books that existed in spite of that fact, she herself had taken up her iPad and had been typing furiously. I asked her what she was doing.
She took a minute to answer, her fingers flying across the virtual keyboard.
"Oh, you know," she replied at last, "something akin to what you and Faye do with your students, your hairdresser, your builder, the people you meet on planes and at literary forums."
"What exactly do you mean?" I asked, already anticipating the answer.
"I'm using you," she said.
And then she pressed Save
seventhevan's review against another edition
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
4.0
quintusmarcus's review against another edition
3.0
Don't get me wrong, I surely appreciate all the fine writerly qualities of this book, but OMG what a crashing bore. So many dreary vignettes, one after another, made mining the many verbal nuggets a miserable task. I guess I'm glad I read the book - Cusk's storytelling is innovative, but there was nothing pleasurable about it. Kind of like innovative mucilage - glad it's there, but not exactly a source of delight.
marc129's review
3.0
It was actually only 3 months ago that I read [b:Outline|21400742|Outline|Rachel Cusk|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1403832251l/21400742._SY75_.jpg|40698498] - the first part of the trilogy of Rachel Cusk. That was a very awkward reading experience due to the dry sequence of conversations of a female writer with a number of friends and strangers, a woman who you only got fragmentary acquaintance with and of which you even heard the name - Faye - only at the end. Both Faye and her conversational partners remained largely sketches, ‘outlines’ (hence title of the book).
Part 2 was given the title "Transit", and it soon became clear that that title too says something about the focus of this part. Again Cusk presents a succession of conversations, again with Faye as the hub for a colourful group of very diverse "talkers". But this seems quite another book. Because in this part Faye herself comes into the picture and speaks more herself and about her stance in life. And she also takes some decisive actions, such as the complete renovation of her newly purchased apartment. It soon becomes apparent that "change", "transformation" (transit!) is a recurring theme, both in conversations, situations and metaphors. What does change do to a person? Is change good, or is stability more beneficial? Is the truth a fixed point, or is it variable?
As the book progresses, the philosophical content of the conversations increases and the most profound reveries about the things of life are discussed. But don't expect any line in this: Faye sometimes hears others tell the most absurd stories about their lives, she often gets involved in awkward situations, and the musings about life go in every direction. While the pace of the conversations is fairly slow at first, this book gradually turns into a chaotic cacophony of comments, reflections and situations.
Once again you are left with the question: what the hell is this book about? And again you have that unsatisfactory feeling that you have apparently missed something. My suspicion is that Cusk is doing this on purpose: she deliberately confuses the reader by breaking the "normal" rules of novel writing. In my opinion, this second part was of a higher literary level than the predecessor, and because you soon think you have found the key to reading this part (transformation, change!), the confusion in the end is all the greater. Hence the 3-stars upgrade. I am curious which trick Cusk is going to use in part 3 to unbalance her reader.
Part 2 was given the title "Transit", and it soon became clear that that title too says something about the focus of this part. Again Cusk presents a succession of conversations, again with Faye as the hub for a colourful group of very diverse "talkers". But this seems quite another book. Because in this part Faye herself comes into the picture and speaks more herself and about her stance in life. And she also takes some decisive actions, such as the complete renovation of her newly purchased apartment. It soon becomes apparent that "change", "transformation" (transit!) is a recurring theme, both in conversations, situations and metaphors. What does change do to a person? Is change good, or is stability more beneficial? Is the truth a fixed point, or is it variable?
As the book progresses, the philosophical content of the conversations increases and the most profound reveries about the things of life are discussed. But don't expect any line in this: Faye sometimes hears others tell the most absurd stories about their lives, she often gets involved in awkward situations, and the musings about life go in every direction. While the pace of the conversations is fairly slow at first, this book gradually turns into a chaotic cacophony of comments, reflections and situations.
Once again you are left with the question: what the hell is this book about? And again you have that unsatisfactory feeling that you have apparently missed something. My suspicion is that Cusk is doing this on purpose: she deliberately confuses the reader by breaking the "normal" rules of novel writing. In my opinion, this second part was of a higher literary level than the predecessor, and because you soon think you have found the key to reading this part (transformation, change!), the confusion in the end is all the greater. Hence the 3-stars upgrade. I am curious which trick Cusk is going to use in part 3 to unbalance her reader.
juniperd's review against another edition
4.0
while continuing in the style and ideas cusk created with [b:Outline|21400742|Outline|Rachel Cusk|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1403832251s/21400742.jpg|40698498], a book that i appreciated but didn't love, i found transit offered more emotional depth. we still don't get a whole lot of focus on faye herself, but her interactions and conversations with those she encounters give us more glimpses into faye's life, as well as a some great insights to human nature and relationships. we are so messy and complicated.
brennie192's review
3.0
Her writing remains beautiful, but this one didn't capture my attention the way Outline did.
andreanunezdecaceres's review
challenging
reflective
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
3.75
itstariq's review
challenging
emotional
funny
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
5.0
frozen_tangerine's review against another edition
reflective
tense
medium-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
3.75