Alavi Anan Meem
Virginia and Leonard, Virginia and Vita, Vita and Harold, Vita and Violet, Orlando and Shelmerdine. Here are five perfect unions, four real and one fictional. These are beautiful, romantic, complicated, exotic, subversive love stories.
Leonard and Virginia's marriage of minds, his compassion and support carrying her through her depression, his understanding of Vita's importance to Virginia. The man literally started a publishing house (Hogarth Press) for her because she couldn't bear criticism, for heaven's sake!
Then there are Vita's letters to Virginia, telling her she “is reduced to a thing that wants Virginia”, telling her she misses her in a “quite simple desperate human way”.
Vita and Harold's tempestuous open marriage, their manifold intimacies, their quiet acceptance of each other's romantic entanglements.
Vita and Violet's famous, intense, scandalous affair that has been fictionalised in Orlando (Violet being the Russian princess Sasha).
Orlando and Shelmerdine's secret languages, their respect of the other's need for solitude and personal space, their rejection of gender.
These couples and their dismissal of sexual familiarity/fidelity as the key components of a successful marriage is inspiring. Their ability to engage in multiple romantic relationships at the same time is impressive. I love this book, the characters in it and the writers whose stories are woven into it.
It's hard to figure out what's really going on here. There are love letters, bitch rants (on various topics ranging from sports and rotary clubs to phobias, nationalism and collectivism) that I wasn't really all that into (I like my erotica and philosophy to be separate ever since [b:Emmanuelle 118797 Emmanuelle Emmanuelle Arsan https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1347392457s/118797.jpg 1275165]) and a surreal love triangle between husband, wife and son. Llosa must have had a lot of fun writing this. Read this if you like Klimt and Schiele or if your last erotica was Fifty Shades of Grey. (No really, the erotica here is creative and wonderful and the foursome made me awww. When was the last time a foursome made you aww?) Density of prose may be annoying (was for me) but it's quality prose too so if you can get behind that you're good to go.
When someone seeks a philosophy recommendation, my immediate suggestion invariably lands on Man's Search for Meaning.
Approach this book without preconceptions about the horrors of Nazi concentration camps or the intricacies of logotherapy. Focus, instead, on Frankl's demonstration of how meaning can emerge even in the bleakest of circumstances. It demands introspection and courage from readers, but offers a hopeful narrative in return. Contemplate whether his assertion that the fundamental drive propelling humanity isn't mere hedonism, but rather the pursuit of significance, resonates as deeply with you as it did with me. Only then engage with Frankl's portrayal of human experience in the face of unimaginable suffering, his depiction of shock, apathy, depersonalization, bitterness, and disillusionment within the Nazi camps, and evaluate whether it serves as an illustration of his idea with clarity.
Once I held the conviction that suffering only numbs the mind and heart, but Man's Search for Meaning compellingly prompts a reassessment of that perspective. This book stands as a true testament to resilience, distinct from its superficial use in corporate/self-help rhetoric, which helps you perceive a resilience inherent in the human spirit.
This book is a hug.
I'm pretty sure this is loosely based on Silas Marner.
Just when you begin to think it's veering off into the maudlin, it surprises you and makes you smile.
It's a charming little story.
A. J. reminds me so much of my boyfriend. (Probably why he asked me to read it.) I can imagine him turning into this grump in a few decades time.
Sum, a collection of stories about “surprising” afterlives by neuroscientist David Eagleman, celebrates science, ideas, and the imagination, aiming to stretch the reader's. Eagleman presents various afterlife scenarios, nudging readers to think beyond the ordinary. He suggests imagining God in unconventional ways, like as a married couple. At one extreme, God exists as a microbe, unaware of our existence, while at the other, a towering Giantess, beyond our reach and comprehension. The afterlife accommodates a diverse array of beings and objects, from humble toasters to majestic grand pianos. Gods from human stories find a place in this book too. There's room for perplexity, such as when a committee, guided by angels, questions God's capacity to determine the fate of souls. Embracing a middle ground between belief and disbelief, Eagleman promotes exploring multiple ideas simultaneously, which if nothing else is an interesting position. Sum brings a light-hearted touch to discussions about the afterlife, emphasizing the importance of how we live our lives here and now, much like indirect call-to-actions in other favorites, such as [b:The Remains of the Day 28921 The Remains of the Day Kazuo Ishiguro https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1327128714l/28921.SY75.jpg 3333111]. It encourages curiosity and reminds us to make the most of life on Earth, no matter what comes next.
20% in. I am going to be so conflicted about this.
40% in. Finally, some life!
60% in. Now it is perfect. <3
80% in. I don't want either Aschenbach or Tadzio to die. I've grown quite attached to them.
100% in. This was brilliant. Mann's got me wishing I was an ascetic old man who had devoted his being to discipline just so I could taste the intoxicating annihilative pleasures of liberation after a lifetime of sobriety.
Sometimes, a single book stands out so brilliantly that it becomes the epitome of its genre, overshadowing any other for me. The Metamorphosis of Prime Intellect holds this distinction as the best speculative science fiction I've ever encountered, because it continues to provoke thought. A few of my favourite authors fit into this category: obscure geniuses who produce only one masterpiece, such as [b:Sum: Forty Tales from the Afterlives 4948826 Sum Forty Tales from the Afterlives David Eagleman https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1320528453l/4948826.SY75.jpg 5014561] by David Eagleman or [b:Tell the Wolves I'm Home 12875258 Tell the Wolves I'm Home Carol Rifka Brunt https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1335450415l/12875258.SY75.jpg 18028067] by Carol Rifka Brunt, gems which though inevitably flawed eloquently capture the essence of their creators' ideas before receding into obscurity. The Metamorphosis of Prime Intellect seamlessly joins these ranks. In the book, the super-intelligent creation Prime Intellect triggers a technological singularity, ushering in an immortal Paradise for humanity. However, devoid of meaning in their lives, humans resort to seeking it in the most absurd pursuits, prompting the protagonists to grapple with the consequences of altering reality. Its commentary on human desire, and technology's role in fulfilling or distorting it, is among the most insightful and thought-provoking I've encountered, particularly as discussions on AI ethics gain renewed relevance.Whenever the topic of science fiction arises, particularly speculative sci-fi, I rush to recommend this book. While warnings about uncontrollable technological advancement abound, they often lack compelling presentation. The Metamorphosis of Prime Intellect compels me to contemplate the farthest reaches a decade after I first read it. I hope it does the same for you.
“somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyondany experience,your eyes have their silence:in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,or which i cannot touch because they are too nearyour slightest look easily will unclose methough i have closed myself as fingers,you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first roseor if your wish be to close me, i andmy life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,as when the heart of this flower imaginesthe snow carefully everywhere descending;nothing which we are to perceive in this world equalsthe power of your intense fragility:whose texturecompels me with the color of its countries,rendering death and forever with each breathing(i do not know what it is about you that closesand opens;only something in me understandsthe voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands”
It took me four months to finish this book. It has often been said that those who write clearly and simply are better than those who prefer to swathe their prose in ambiguity. Alice Munro definitely falls in the former category, although I have come to prefer the latter.
This book is proof that something can be created from nothing, that ordinary stories are just as capable of being magical as ones that appear to be extraordinary. Here is a form of magic I find hard to swallow, but I can still feel her power. And it makes me hope that, some day, I too will be able to prize the clarity of simplicity over the polish of eloquence.
Sadly, I still feel that a story isn't as important as the way it is told. I need a whirlwind of revelations to sweep me way. The power of language has not been unleashed here. I need to be PERSUADED that there is beauty in life, not coldly informed.
