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A review by joaofranciscof
On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous by Ocean Vuong
emotional
sad
medium-paced
2.5
This is clearly a book written by a poet and maybe it should have been a collection of poems (despite the sections of this that were more similar to a poem were probably my least favourites).
The writing, although occasionally beautiful and impactful, was not my favourite because the author relied on metaphors that were very cringey and even hollow. Telling this story in vignettes, with also the use of stream of consciousness, made it sometimes random and unnecessarily disorganised. I even feel like the themes Voung explored in the narrative lacked depth, despite being obviously hard hitting and mournful.
I am very curious to read another work from Ocean Voung in order to see if we are not made for each other or if it was a one time thing.
“When I first started writing, I hated myself for being so uncertain, about images, clauses, ideas, even the pen or journal I used. Everything I wrote began with maybe and perhaps and ended with I think or I believe. But my doubt is everywhere, Ma. Even when I know something to be true as bone I fear the knowledge will dissolve, will not, despite my writing it, stay real.”
The writing, although occasionally beautiful and impactful, was not my favourite because the author relied on metaphors that were very cringey and even hollow. Telling this story in vignettes, with also the use of stream of consciousness, made it sometimes random and unnecessarily disorganised. I even feel like the themes Voung explored in the narrative lacked depth, despite being obviously hard hitting and mournful.
I am very curious to read another work from Ocean Voung in order to see if we are not made for each other or if it was a one time thing.
“When I first started writing, I hated myself for being so uncertain, about images, clauses, ideas, even the pen or journal I used. Everything I wrote began with maybe and perhaps and ended with I think or I believe. But my doubt is everywhere, Ma. Even when I know something to be true as bone I fear the knowledge will dissolve, will not, despite my writing it, stay real.”