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hkihm's review against another edition
4.0
this was a quick read, simple in its plot but I've kept thinking about it since I finished it. I was expecting something similar to "Life of Pi," particularly because the cover made the book seem like it was going to be happy and breezy. That said, I feel like the two books need to be taken together, that Beatrice and Virgil is almost a response to that book, about the use of animals instead of people as characters. In a sense, Beatrice and Virgil could be read as a critique of Life of Pi. This book is definitely much darker than Life of Pi. It raises a lot of questions and doesn't really resolve them. that said, I enjoyed it.
tattoo's review against another edition
5.0
I cried, in public. This book touched me so much right at the end.
melaniemgriffin's review against another edition
4.0
Two things: (1) I read the scathing review in the NY Times before reading _Beatrice and Virgil_, and I consequently expected to hate the novel; I didn't. (2) I read a library copy that had its dust jacket attached upside down and backwards, which turned out to be very appropriate, given Henry's obsession with the way his flip book would be constructed, but also very, very ungrounding. Which, I suppose, is a way of saying that there are really three things, and (3) is: I thought that _Beatrice and Virgil_ worked. A little overly obliged to Beckett, perhaps, and missing the sucker punch ending that _Life of Pi_ packs, but still pretty fabulous. Like its unintentional binding job, the book kept me off center.
magpiewithpebbles's review against another edition
challenging
dark
emotional
funny
mysterious
sad
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.75
ldv's review against another edition
2.0
Weird. Not terribly captivating. Some elements similar to [b:Life of Pi|4214|Life of Pi|Yann Martel|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1266448756s/4214.jpg|1392700], like the prominence of animals, a metanarrative, shock. Not nearly as good, however.
What I don't get is the coincidence? of the taxidermist's seeking Henry out about a book/play that was so similar to Henry's own rejected flip book. Plus the coincidence of the taxidermist being in the same neighbourhood as Henry, but delivering the first letter through the publisher. That was strange.
I also didn't understand why some of the literary devices were over-explained, as if the reader would miss the point (like Burnam Wood coming to Dunsinane...was it necessary to explain that's from Macbeth?).
What I don't get is the coincidence? of the taxidermist's seeking Henry out about a book/play that was so similar to Henry's own rejected flip book. Plus the coincidence of the taxidermist being in the same neighbourhood as Henry, but delivering the first letter through the publisher. That was strange.
I also didn't understand why some of the literary devices were over-explained, as if the reader would miss the point (like Burnam Wood coming to Dunsinane...was it necessary to explain that's from Macbeth?).
amb3rlina's review against another edition
4.0
I'm still cogitating this book and not entirely sure I'm ready to write a review. I was totally captivated by the story and not in the least disappointed with the narrative. It had all the charm and curiosity of Life of Pi. I am still trying to unravel how I actually felt about the allegory, the actual meaning. It seems there was a whole lot there and I'm just not convinced of how well it fit together. But that thinking and wondering is certainly what I crave in a book.
beetree's review against another edition
3.0
This has more of a short story feel to it for sure. I liked it but I found it a little dry. It was told well but definitely did not grab me the way "Life of Pi" did. It is quite impactful in its own strange way.
kelseystamey's review against another edition
3.0
This aching Holocaust allegory occasionally strikes the right chord, and when it does, the sound is divine. Martel's prose can be lyrical, especially in the description of the pear in the play within the story, and he asks a few thoughtful questions. However, some of the material is too trite and derivative of other famous works for many readers (myself included) to consider Beatrice and Virgil as anything more than a flight of a talented author's imagination, a glorified daydream. I agree with other reviews; it would have worked best as a short story.
robynryle's review against another edition
1.0
Really a lot like Life of Pi, but not nearly as good. There were animals. There's a first person narrator who appears to actually be Yann Martel. And I didn't like the first person narrator, so now I don't really like Yann Martel, either. And then there's a long play that sounds exactly like Waiting for Godot or Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead, only with animals.
karieh13's review against another edition
4.0
Yann Martel accomplishes something amazing in “Beatrice and Virgil”. He takes extremely unlikely characters and meshes them with one of humankind’s darkest hours…and delivers a story unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.
I say experienced instead of read because like the main character, Henry, I was drawn into and lulled by this new world. Henry, a writer, has stopped writing. He’s living his life doing other things, and not the work for which most of the world defines him.
“Creative block is no laughing matter, or only to those sodden spirits who’ve never even tried to make their personal mark. It’s not just a particular endeavor, a job, that is negated, it’s your whole being. It’s the dying of a small god within you, a part you thought might have immortality.”
And then Henry is given a play about characters named Beatrice and Virgil, and with that play, his life is forever changed.
Somehow, even from the beginning of the book, Martel’s words both interested and soothed me. His writing style is rather matter-of-fact, but in a way that allows additional layers of meaning to become part of the narrative…almost without the reader noticing. Well, without noticing until later. Until it’s too late…
“The reader’s disbelief begins to lift, like a stage curtain. Now the story can unfold more easily. There’s nothing like the unimaginable to make people believe.”
I can’t explain why I was so taken by the world inhabited by Beatrice and Virgil…and neither could Henry. While there was certainly something “off” about it, the sheer strangeness was part of its charm.
“The taxidermist shook his head without saying a word. Henry stood and waited, marveling at the animals. He was happy to be back. This was a room full of adjectives, like a Victorian novel.”
(And yes, I am trying to describe the book while giving very few details. I would hate to spoil it for someone.)
There are so many passages I marked within this book. Passages that contain thoughts or actions or events that are so raw that they feel like a punch to the gut. Passages of such carefully crafted words that the description of a single action conveys dozens of emotions. But I just can’t lift the curtain on this book. It caught me by surprise to such an extent that I hope it will catch others.
And the end…the end. I was never expecting that. I turned the final pages slowly, reading the words but not wanting to. I realize I’m probably coming across as overdramatic, but the end of this book was so different from any expectation that I had when I first picked it up, that’s the only way I can describe it.
I will never forget this book. This book that uses such an unlikely way to remind us of things that should never be forgotten. This book that uses such unexpected characters to remind us of the fragility of what makes us human, of the value of our lives. This fictional story that brings forth unarguable truths about life – both the beauty and the pain of it.
“A work of art works because it is true, not because it is real.”
I say experienced instead of read because like the main character, Henry, I was drawn into and lulled by this new world. Henry, a writer, has stopped writing. He’s living his life doing other things, and not the work for which most of the world defines him.
“Creative block is no laughing matter, or only to those sodden spirits who’ve never even tried to make their personal mark. It’s not just a particular endeavor, a job, that is negated, it’s your whole being. It’s the dying of a small god within you, a part you thought might have immortality.”
And then Henry is given a play about characters named Beatrice and Virgil, and with that play, his life is forever changed.
Somehow, even from the beginning of the book, Martel’s words both interested and soothed me. His writing style is rather matter-of-fact, but in a way that allows additional layers of meaning to become part of the narrative…almost without the reader noticing. Well, without noticing until later. Until it’s too late…
“The reader’s disbelief begins to lift, like a stage curtain. Now the story can unfold more easily. There’s nothing like the unimaginable to make people believe.”
I can’t explain why I was so taken by the world inhabited by Beatrice and Virgil…and neither could Henry. While there was certainly something “off” about it, the sheer strangeness was part of its charm.
“The taxidermist shook his head without saying a word. Henry stood and waited, marveling at the animals. He was happy to be back. This was a room full of adjectives, like a Victorian novel.”
(And yes, I am trying to describe the book while giving very few details. I would hate to spoil it for someone.)
There are so many passages I marked within this book. Passages that contain thoughts or actions or events that are so raw that they feel like a punch to the gut. Passages of such carefully crafted words that the description of a single action conveys dozens of emotions. But I just can’t lift the curtain on this book. It caught me by surprise to such an extent that I hope it will catch others.
And the end…the end. I was never expecting that. I turned the final pages slowly, reading the words but not wanting to. I realize I’m probably coming across as overdramatic, but the end of this book was so different from any expectation that I had when I first picked it up, that’s the only way I can describe it.
I will never forget this book. This book that uses such an unlikely way to remind us of things that should never be forgotten. This book that uses such unexpected characters to remind us of the fragility of what makes us human, of the value of our lives. This fictional story that brings forth unarguable truths about life – both the beauty and the pain of it.
“A work of art works because it is true, not because it is real.”