Book Review (Part I of II)
I haven't read interesting fiction in a long while and I came across the following book, "The Romantic Movement: Sex, Shopping, and the Novel"
by Alain de Botton when I met up with some friends. I couldn't resist scamming it off a friend once I dipped into it.
I've just started reading, but I'll post some excerpts here that amuses me.
Excerpt 1:
Tired of her capacity for cynicism, tired of seeing only faults in herself and others, she wished to be overwhelmed by her feelings for a fellow human being. She wanted a situation where that would be no choice, no time to sigh and ask 'But are he and I really that suited anyway?', where analysis and interpretation would be superfluous, where the other would simply be an unquestionable and wholly natural presence.
Excerpt 2:
There were other longings: for a sense that life would finally begin, for an end of self-consciousness and crippling reflexivity, for an emotional disposition which would not so regularly catapult her into black moods or periods of ravaging self-hatred.
Excerpt 3:
What perhaps lay behind the tears was the sad suspicion that had she one day tripped and slipped off the edge of the globe, no one would have given her absence more than a minute's thought.
by Alain de Botton when I met up with some friends. I couldn't resist scamming it off a friend once I dipped into it.
I've just started reading, but I'll post some excerpts here that amuses me.
Excerpt 1:
Tired of her capacity for cynicism, tired of seeing only faults in herself and others, she wished to be overwhelmed by her feelings for a fellow human being. She wanted a situation where that would be no choice, no time to sigh and ask 'But are he and I really that suited anyway?', where analysis and interpretation would be superfluous, where the other would simply be an unquestionable and wholly natural presence.
Excerpt 2:
There were other longings: for a sense that life would finally begin, for an end of self-consciousness and crippling reflexivity, for an emotional disposition which would not so regularly catapult her into black moods or periods of ravaging self-hatred.
Excerpt 3:
What perhaps lay behind the tears was the sad suspicion that had she one day tripped and slipped off the edge of the globe, no one would have given her absence more than a minute's thought.