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Average rating3.5
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Although beautifully written most of the time, it isn't exactly my cup of tea. It feels too much like a play than a book. Which is spot on for the story, but hard to read for me. I really loved the first chapter though, which felt like a dance.
A thoroughly strange little book, The Body Artist clocks in at only 128pp but it fair packs a punch. Don DeLillo's writing conveys a pervasive sense of stillness and silence throughout as he explores the profundity and bizarreness of grief, the necessity of art and performance, and the inescapable consequences of cause and effect. My first DeLillo, but definitely not my last.
“Why shouldn't the death of a person you love bring you into lurid ruin? You don't know how to love the ones you love until they disappear abruptly. Then you understand how thinly distanced from their suffering, how sparing of self you often were, only rarely unguarded of heart, working your networks of give-and-take.”
Um okay,just destroy me.