There are some great lines, very lovely lines in this book. There are some great insights into the human condition: "people like to think that other people are totally unlike them-- but these differences are, in reality, for most functions, rather small." (p. 205) I loved the walks through NYC and Brussels. The layers of history which existed in both places just beneath the surface of the "modern" world. But, but, but it just kind of rambles along to a very rambling end. Most of the time I liked it, but the sexual assualt accusation came out of nowhere (maybe I wasn't paying attention to the ramble that started the novel drifting toward that revelation) and the end ramble about the dying birds and the Statue of Liberty, must be some kind of significance which escapes me.
(July 27, 2014)
4 comments:
I only just finished the first part of the novel, but I completely agree so far. When I read fiction I like to remember the rule that truth is stranger than fiction. Yet as I read this, I find the world and characters all too familiar. His conversations with others closely resemble those I've had with college mates and there is hardly anything strange about either, and the insights they come to, though I usually agree, seem rather dull when reached in this way. But then there are the moments you describe as "the layers of history which existed in both places just beneath the surface of the 'modern' world" that are truly uncanny and provide depth to the monotonous rambling.
I also enjoyed how the main character was introduced subtly. Categories we most commonly use to define people like name, gender, nationality, skin color, are all held back from us for most of the first chapter. We don't learn the character's name until page 12 and I don't think we receive a hint ethnicity or nationality until Chapter Two. This lack of hyperawareness hints that our identity is far more complex than these superficial attributes we typically ascribe to it.
In regards to the part of the ending with the birds dying, I remember Julius thinking, "Each time I caught sight of geese swooping in formation across the sky, I wondered how our life below might look from their perspective" (2). A lot of the novel tries to show that we believe our own suffering is unique to us, that we are special, but in reality suffering is a constant throughout history shared by many peoples. Perhaps it has something to do with people lacking this perspective? I haven't reached the end yet and don't have the context so I'm not sure.
Lovely. Thanks Phil for your connection of the end for me. It does bring a closure to the book in a more satisfying manner. I thought I was just old (which I am) and not able to follow what seemed to be a fairly straight forward novel.
RE: perspective. I seem to remember lots of times in the book when he is looking down on things, or out of windows from a height.
Yeah I watched an interview the other day and Cole talked about how he was inspired by the way different angles gives a completely different perspective on things. I think that the rambling, unstructured plot makes it fairly difficult to find connections. The themes are for the most part apparent, but the lack of structure can make connecting what he says about the themes fairly difficult I think.
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