ken_bookhermit's review against another edition
This was a slim volume but boy was the content dense. Packed with allusions to art (The Ash Wednesday Supper, Giorgone's The Tempest among others) and most prominently, Rilke's [b:Sonnets to Orpheus|205134|Sonnets to Orpheus|Rainer Maria Rilke|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1348931949l/205134._SY75_.jpg|1210412], it seems inevitable, seeing as Aseroë is an inspection of the rupture between word and meaning.
In one section, in Antonio Brocardo's final letter to Giorgione, he says,
Beautiful. In some ways, writing is just living twice.
And - okay. This also reminds me of that one part in [b:Eurydice|5661021|Eurydice|Sarah Ruhl|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1347730866l/5661021._SY75_.jpg|6520202] where Orpheus decries the idea of practice and, to summarize he says, "A bird sings because it's happy or sad, not because it wants to perfect its craft. If emotions are not spilling out of me, I don't want to sing."
Is anyone else sensing a pattern here? Why are all these Orphic myths suddenly everywhere in my reading life? I'm not mad at it, and it could also be possible that I haven't been paying that much attention.
A section of linkage: a scene in Aseroë discusses how Orpheus had a dog for a companion (and proceeded to wonder whether the dog could follow Orpheus into the underworld), and also narrating a story of when the narrator had a dog for a companion as well; this brought to mind Johnny Appleseed, and how there was a myth floating around that said he had a wolf companion at some point in his journey. It's not a big deal but my mind might be a little blown, that's all. I'm telling you - everything is connected; nothing is purely accidental. These books fell to my lap, one after the other, for some mythic reason.
In one section, in Antonio Brocardo's final letter to Giorgione, he says,
We are attached to signs that create a chain, binding man to man. And yet, it is only from the depths of our silence that we speak; it is only as solitaries that we come together as men. But are we yet sufficiently alone to be free? Life is such a small thing that one could easily withdraw into one's room in order to reinvent the world. Again and again we repeat the same signs with new images. Come on, my special friend, we so enjoy living that we shall find pleasure in it in the end: let's rediscover the delights of writing and of painting in quiet rooms. Our ultimate vanity. As if the only legitimate love were the love of absence.
Beautiful. In some ways, writing is just living twice.
And - okay. This also reminds me of that one part in [b:Eurydice|5661021|Eurydice|Sarah Ruhl|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1347730866l/5661021._SY75_.jpg|6520202] where Orpheus decries the idea of practice and, to summarize he says, "A bird sings because it's happy or sad, not because it wants to perfect its craft. If emotions are not spilling out of me, I don't want to sing."
Is anyone else sensing a pattern here? Why are all these Orphic myths suddenly everywhere in my reading life? I'm not mad at it, and it could also be possible that I haven't been paying that much attention.
A section of linkage: a scene in Aseroë discusses how Orpheus had a dog for a companion (and proceeded to wonder whether the dog could follow Orpheus into the underworld), and also narrating a story of when the narrator had a dog for a companion as well; this brought to mind Johnny Appleseed, and how there was a myth floating around that said he had a wolf companion at some point in his journey. It's not a big deal but my mind might be a little blown, that's all. I'm telling you - everything is connected; nothing is purely accidental. These books fell to my lap, one after the other, for some mythic reason.
branca's review against another edition
challenging
mysterious
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
2.75
kikiandarrowsfishshelf's review against another edition
4.0
Disclaimer: I received an ARC of the English translation via a Librarything giveaway.
The one thing that most people remember from the story Orpheus is his inability not to look back. His death tends to be if not glossed over, then not widely discussed. He was ripped about. Which, when you think about it, speaks entirely to the power of music – it can move us in a variety of ways.
Orpheus features in this short novella that at first blush seems to be a man’s interest in mushrooms, but is really about art, writing, food, dance, and life.
The narrator of the novella, who may or may not be Dominque himself, starts with a mediation on mushrooms that will, at the very least make the reader never look at a mushroom the same way again. And when you think about mushrooms are pretty interesting, and the shapes are so interventive. If Dominique or his narrator is correct, then maybe mushrooms decide for themselves what their shapes are going to be.
The book is split into 12 (a complete number) chapters or sections that are only somewhat interconnected. It is better, though, to think of the book as a mediation.
It is chocked with references’ to artists and artwork, and for the most part the book syncs. The only exception is a brief sexual encounter, (but a book about creation without sex would have been too weird).
Perhaps the book isn’t about creation, but about beauty and what makes life beautiful. Not only that, but how it makes the mind work. We follow the narrator though parts of France and Europe as he hikes and studies art. His study and his observations increase the reader’s understanding and observations of art.
There is such beauty in this work, and the amount of time that you spend unraveling it, thinking about it, wondering about it, is worth it.
The one thing that most people remember from the story Orpheus is his inability not to look back. His death tends to be if not glossed over, then not widely discussed. He was ripped about. Which, when you think about it, speaks entirely to the power of music – it can move us in a variety of ways.
Orpheus features in this short novella that at first blush seems to be a man’s interest in mushrooms, but is really about art, writing, food, dance, and life.
The narrator of the novella, who may or may not be Dominque himself, starts with a mediation on mushrooms that will, at the very least make the reader never look at a mushroom the same way again. And when you think about mushrooms are pretty interesting, and the shapes are so interventive. If Dominique or his narrator is correct, then maybe mushrooms decide for themselves what their shapes are going to be.
The book is split into 12 (a complete number) chapters or sections that are only somewhat interconnected. It is better, though, to think of the book as a mediation.
It is chocked with references’ to artists and artwork, and for the most part the book syncs. The only exception is a brief sexual encounter, (but a book about creation without sex would have been too weird).
Perhaps the book isn’t about creation, but about beauty and what makes life beautiful. Not only that, but how it makes the mind work. We follow the narrator though parts of France and Europe as he hikes and studies art. His study and his observations increase the reader’s understanding and observations of art.
There is such beauty in this work, and the amount of time that you spend unraveling it, thinking about it, wondering about it, is worth it.
apersonfromflorida's review
mysterious
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? N/A
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
3.5
Content Warnings
Moderate: Sexual content
bluepigeon's review
3.0
Aseroë by François Dominique follow the narrator as he attempts to reach a plane of existence (or simply a plane of thought-existence) beyond language, through language and things that yield, or perhaps don't yield, easily to language. From the beguilingly strange fungus that gives the novella its title to a portrait that is embodied to an "idiot" girl who can read his mind, the narrator recounts twelve digressions/attempts that are loosely connected. Sometimes his observations are precise and rendered in beautiful language (the irony!) and sometimes the prose is overburdened by references to other works that may serve a purpose, but fail to create something entirely novel. As the narrator makes heady, philosophical forays into the depths of what language enables or takes away from being, the stories convulse between clarity and a sort of fugue. Overall, the effect is mesmerizing, yet, at times, confusing. Recommended for those who like paintings, Orpheus, wine, bistros, and, of course, mycology.
Thanks to the publisher and LibraryThing for a copy of the book in exchange for my honest opinion.
Thanks to the publisher and LibraryThing for a copy of the book in exchange for my honest opinion.
cindyp's review
4.0
A mad and nameless mycologist narrates Aseroe, a strange and glorious story. His obsession with the mushroom aseroe leads him to forests, museums, cities and bookshops. Along the way he meditates on the relationship between language and reality and on the futility of a life spent living in one's mind rather than working for the benefit of society. Heartbreaking visions and illuminating dreams contribute to his madness-- or do they create supernatural epiphanies? This slim novel is a challenging, thought-provoking adventure, perfect for fans of Haruki Murakami and Franz Kafka.
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