irene2002's review against another edition
5.0
4 meses después aquí sigo pensando en este libro… tía te entiendo tanto
ketevanreads's review against another edition
5.0
I really thought I would hate this one because of the subject matter (Erneaux’s affair with a married man) but it really is more about passion itself and it’s so beautifully written.
quiver's review against another edition
4.0
Roland Barthes wrote: "Am I in love? --yes, since I am waiting. The other one never waits. Sometimes I want to play the part of the one who doesn't wait; I try to busy myself elsewhere, to arrive late; but I always lose at this game. Whatever I do, I find myself there, with nothing to do, punctual, even ahead of time. The lover's fatal identity is precisely this: I am the one who waits."
It is a quote that lingered with me when I read this book. For it is not merely a book about an affair and passion, but also about the solitude of waiting, illusions, and being haunted by desire that debilitates and exhilarates. It is about being alone with one's desire even within the arms of the desired one; about the strangeness of the other; how they remain within the shadows of being unknown: "the man we love is a complete stranger."
Desire is fueled by waiting and distance.
The desire Ernaux held was of the kind that can touch and live within the margins of madness. Madness and bliss, violent and consuming. She writes intimately and yet simply of what one seldom discusses openly: the private inner world of desire, love, anxiety, jealousy, madness. Mostly such confessions and intimate thoughts wither in, or are betrayed by, language. It does not occur in her book. This book, a slim volume, felt somehow quite precious, almost like a secret, and one listens -- reads -- indeed, as if to a secret.
It is a quote that lingered with me when I read this book. For it is not merely a book about an affair and passion, but also about the solitude of waiting, illusions, and being haunted by desire that debilitates and exhilarates. It is about being alone with one's desire even within the arms of the desired one; about the strangeness of the other; how they remain within the shadows of being unknown: "the man we love is a complete stranger."
Desire is fueled by waiting and distance.
The desire Ernaux held was of the kind that can touch and live within the margins of madness. Madness and bliss, violent and consuming. She writes intimately and yet simply of what one seldom discusses openly: the private inner world of desire, love, anxiety, jealousy, madness. Mostly such confessions and intimate thoughts wither in, or are betrayed by, language. It does not occur in her book. This book, a slim volume, felt somehow quite precious, almost like a secret, and one listens -- reads -- indeed, as if to a secret.
livforreading's review against another edition
challenging
emotional
reflective
fast-paced
5.0
This writing was absolutely delicious. The passion for this married man was so all consuming as to be both uncomfortable at times and relatable at others. I was nodding and cringing the whole time.
whogivesabook's review against another edition
4.0
I was really impressed with this one. As my first encounter with Ernaux's work, I'll review how good an entry point it is after I've read more, but I believe it'll be a good start for people.
Ernaux recounts the experience of, and insights drawn from, her relationship with a married man.
She writes in a way that lays out the feelings retrospectively but adroitly. A crystalline structure emerges. We can explore, as she does (though it is obviously borne of previous consideration) the theory of loving someone in that specific way. The obsession. The waiting.
I'd personally felt a little ashamed of myself for having engaged with someone in this duplicitous way... But, though she briefly speaks of shame, she's hardly troubled by it.
Then again. She is French.
I see her settle into my pantheon as slightly better than Cusk, but not quite as good as Lispector.
What it did ignite is two drives:
To read more biographical works by women
To read more of Ernaux specifically
I've a feeling there will be a topic that makes her really sparkle. We shall see.
Ernaux recounts the experience of, and insights drawn from, her relationship with a married man.
She writes in a way that lays out the feelings retrospectively but adroitly. A crystalline structure emerges. We can explore, as she does (though it is obviously borne of previous consideration) the theory of loving someone in that specific way. The obsession. The waiting.
I'd personally felt a little ashamed of myself for having engaged with someone in this duplicitous way... But, though she briefly speaks of shame, she's hardly troubled by it.
Then again. She is French.
I see her settle into my pantheon as slightly better than Cusk, but not quite as good as Lispector.
What it did ignite is two drives:
To read more biographical works by women
To read more of Ernaux specifically
I've a feeling there will be a topic that makes her really sparkle. We shall see.