Carolina Novo
well, I guess that this year my type of book is stories about religion, what's built around it - the communities, the rules, the secrets, the downfalls and the salvations -, and about how people are impacted by it. in the author's biography it says “Adopted by Pentecostal parents she was raised to be a missionary. This did and didn't work out” - and I think it's always a bit like this in life, isn't it? It works and it doesn't.
After “Crossroads”, this one is probably my 2022's favourite book.
I had this book on a shelf at my parents' house for around seven years. I remember starting reading it at the time and hating it (honestly don't remember why). I grabbed it recently and the experience couldn't have been more different. I haven't read something so plot-driven in a long time, with so many twists and turns, and although I usually prefer slower-paced books, more character-driven, this really really caught my attention and made me really happy. “This book restores your faith in fiction”, it says on the front cover. And it really does. What a lovely, warm read.
not always very easy to read (for me, particularly, because of the great amount of the references that Levy puts forward), but incredibly interesting. it is an autobiographical piece, as it is a philosophical one, and made me think about concepts that I had never thought about before. above all, I think that I read this book at a stage of my life where I share a lot of preoccupations with Levy, even though she is more than thirty years older than me - what's our real estate (real or imagined), what we inherit (the good and the bad), what we own, how can we build our homes (not only our houses) throughout our lives, and what we will leave for the ones who'll continue here after we leave.
this was unlike everything I've read before. it is somehow a collection of memories, a chaotic surrealist piece of autofiction, and I'm not sure how I feel about it. it was hard to follow Cooper's writing, sometimes, but, nonetheless, I think he did a great job capturing love, and, more than that, the obsession to be loved by someone we do love. and also what it feels to spend a whole existence trying to make sense of your feelings for someone and knowing that probably no one will see beyond that person's flaws and very perturbed behaviour. it felt desperate. by the end, Cooper says that he is writing only for George and that we are his witnesses or the admirers of this whole story. I think one can feel that, indeed, that the book is entirely for the man he had loved his entire life, and not to serve other literary purposes. it's a heart-breaking and dark eulogy.
I knew I was going to love this book even before reading it. There is something very incredible in the way Franzen is able to create such detailed, complex and flawed characters and yet portray them without any judgment. He lets us decide what we think about them, and, as the story changes, our perceptions of these people change as well. He is as great with details and plot advances as he is with the bigger themes. I will just say that no other book was made me think so much about spirituality, morality, and faith. The last 100 pages or so disappointed me a bit, however, and to me, they were unsatisfactory when compared with the rest of the book. But let's wait for the rest of the trilogy; there's still a lot to know. Franzen truly is deconstructing mythologies - not only the universal ones, but the ones holding our lives together.
this was one of those books which made me reflect a lot on my perspective about life, which made me think “I hope that when I'm older someday, I'll look back and see my life like this - a series of losses, and other things too, better things, like one of the characters says, at one point - and be at peace about it. Truth is, I think I'm terrified of aging, of watching time pass, but somehow books about time passing are my favourite kind of books. Maybe because I feel less alone, maybe because it feels that there's still a long way to go. I was completely taken by this book - the story, spanning five decades, is detailed, dense, and the characters are well written, profound, complex, as real people are, and, I believe, won't be leaving me soon. I read the book mostly over a weekend spent at my childhood home, and there was something about it that just made sense; there's something special about thinking about life at the place where life started. Maybe it's a very personal opinion, and the reasons why I did like the book so much don't apply to everyone, but I really wish I could read this book for the first time again.
Okay, so, as expected, I did cry (a little) at the end. I understand some of the critics made about this book - that nothing incredibly “special” happens, that it is long and very descriptive. However, it worked perfectly for me, maybe because I love this type of book: long, about the passage of time and what time does to people, and about friendship, family, and love. In short, about life, showing what it looks like when we are teenagers and what it will probably look when we are middle-aged. I'm fascinated with the capacity some authors have to write about our lives' normality, and how they can capture the beauty and magic in all that normality. This book gave me “A little life” vibes (mixed with something written by Jeffrey Eugenides), because the characters' lives and the world-building are so detailed and well written that it seems that they have always been there, solid and ready, waiting for us.
Foi o meu primeiro Murakami. Comprei-o em 2011 e sei que na altura li apenas meia dúzia de páginas antes de o abandonar; acho que não era o momento para ele. Mas agora foi, e ainda bem.
A estrela a menos na pontuação deve-se apenas a dificuldades com algumas das personagens, que não me convenceram totalmente. E certos aspetos do último capítulo. Se bem que o fim em si é um daqueles que acredito que só compreenderei mais tarde.
“When you're looking for love and it seems like you might not ever find it, remember you probably have access to an abundance of it already, just not the romantic kind. This kind of love might not kiss you in the rain or propose marriage. But it will listen to you, inspire and restore you. It will hold you when you cry, celebrate when you're happy, and sing All Saints with you when you're drunk. You have so much to gain and learn from this kind of love. You can carry it with you forever. Keep it as close to you as you can.”
