Dylan Palmer
Quite startling. I had never read any Javier Marias to this point but the recommendation from somewhere seemed perfect. Not being hugely into what I pre-determined the 'espionage' world my expectations were not fully set so I leapt into the novel excited for a somewhat blank slate. Marias however, was not writing anything to be expected from the genre and the reflective and mediative nature and tone stirred a curiosity that would tumble up and down throughout the novel.
It wasn't all easy. At times, I wondered 'where is all of this going?' and struggled through large portions of reflection on literal past lives and destructive past decisions. However, I slowly shrugged this idea off as Marias' guided a weary Nevinson to the story's conclusion and ultimately his own also. Why do we make the choices we do? What is the impact of guilt in our lives and our thoughts? Do consequences have meaning? These are a fraction of the questions that occured to myself throughout the tumbling experience of the novel and I'm unsure if they were answered, if they even require a necessity to be answered that is
An interesting end note though that came up while readying the translators note. How Marias' had 'impeccable English' and while Margaret Jull Costa reflects on this she uses a couple of passages from the novel to illuminate the point of how Marias' delights on using the flexibility of the English language to expand on his inner thoughts and feelings to the fullest. Throughout the reading of the translators note I couldn't help but thinking I was reading a note about a work of Borges, who's mastery of English was blatant and well-known and how he commandeered the language to suit his wonderful needs. What is the point in this comparison? When brilliance in prose obvious, comparison becomes obvious too, but does that demean Marias' work? Not at all, it shows that wonder is wonder and skill of this level comes rarely.
Quite startling. I had never read any Javier Marias to this point but the recommendation from somewhere seemed perfect. Not being hugely into what I pre-determined the 'espionage' world my expectations were not fully set so I leapt into the novel excited for a somewhat blank slate. Marias however, was not writing anything to be expected from the genre and the reflective and mediative nature and tone stirred a curiosity that would tumble up and down throughout the novel.
It wasn't all easy. At times, I wondered 'where is all of this going?' and struggled through large portions of reflection on literal past lives and destructive past decisions. However, I slowly shrugged this idea off as Marias' guided a weary Nevinson to the story's conclusion and ultimately his own also. Why do we make the choices we do? What is the impact of guilt in our lives and our thoughts? Do consequences have meaning? These are a fraction of the questions that occured to myself throughout the tumbling experience of the novel and I'm unsure if they were answered, if they even require a necessity to be answered that is
An interesting end note though that came up while readying the translators note. How Marias' had 'impeccable English' and while Margaret Jull Costa reflects on this she uses a couple of passages from the novel to illuminate the point of how Marias' delights on using the flexibility of the English language to expand on his inner thoughts and feelings to the fullest. Throughout the reading of the translators note I couldn't help but thinking I was reading a note about a work of Borges, who's mastery of English was blatant and well-known and how he commandeered the language to suit his wonderful needs. What is the point in this comparison? When brilliance in prose obvious, comparison becomes obvious too, but does that demean Marias' work? Not at all, it shows that wonder is wonder and skill of this level comes rarely.