Vanessa V. reviewed on
Well. Hmmm. I just finished this book and the further away I get from reading it, the more I like it. I honestly don't think I have EVER read anything modern that challenged me in this way. There are a handful of complaints around about how the book is dry and difficult to follow. It is. But it's not difficult in a literary sense. The vocabulary is pretty basic. There are no artsy turns of phrase like a Winterson novel or anything like that. It's just very deliberately multi-layered and pieced together. I think this makes it more authentic and lends a resemblance to the human experience and psyche.
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Just for fun, here is a collection of some of my random thoughts during my reading of this masterpiece (I normally don't have too many intrusive thoughts while I read, but, alas, the book was dry, as has been addressed by others. So, this happened.) Here we go:
"Why should I care about this fake author Elizabeth Costello? I don't even like her."
"Oh no, not another stuffy dinner gathering where heinously privileged aristocrats get into heated arguments over morality (of all things) and hatefully exchange esoteric gibberish."
"OK, now we are comparing animal cruelty with genocide... Again..."
"Do schizophrenic writers get more awards?"
"This is painful. I hope it's at least making me smarter."
"The past and future of the humanities is very troubling. Yes. I should definitely be spending my time worrying about this instead of how to pay my mortgage this month like everyone else."
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OK, moving on... As I got further along, I started to be reminded of my undergraduate philosophy days. There's that feeling of not being sure that you're getting the whole picture, then realizing that feeling is actually the point. The story, of course, is not really about the stuffy, worn-out, overrated author who it's impossible to like and difficult to even sympathize with. It's not even truly about the humanities, animal rights, religion, the holocaust, or any of the topics covered by the lectures and discussions of Costello and friends.
By my humble reading and impression, I think it's fundamentally concerned with how (or maybe why, or even whether) we come to believe what we believe. It also grapples with the idea that we are stripped of our dignity as we age.
In short, I hated the book. But I loved how it moved me. My impression has an uncanny resemblance to the feelings evoked by Costello's character. Nobody really likes what she has to say, and yet, they keep commissioning her lectures and inviting her to these fancy dinners. Hmmm. Deep, I think.
It's a must read, but don't expect it to sing to you. You have to work for this one and that's the point. I think.
------------------------------------------------
Just for fun, here is a collection of some of my random thoughts during my reading of this masterpiece (I normally don't have too many intrusive thoughts while I read, but, alas, the book was dry, as has been addressed by others. So, this happened.) Here we go:
"Why should I care about this fake author Elizabeth Costello? I don't even like her."
"Oh no, not another stuffy dinner gathering where heinously privileged aristocrats get into heated arguments over morality (of all things) and hatefully exchange esoteric gibberish."
"OK, now we are comparing animal cruelty with genocide... Again..."
"Do schizophrenic writers get more awards?"
"This is painful. I hope it's at least making me smarter."
"The past and future of the humanities is very troubling. Yes. I should definitely be spending my time worrying about this instead of how to pay my mortgage this month like everyone else."
------------------------------------------------
OK, moving on... As I got further along, I started to be reminded of my undergraduate philosophy days. There's that feeling of not being sure that you're getting the whole picture, then realizing that feeling is actually the point. The story, of course, is not really about the stuffy, worn-out, overrated author who it's impossible to like and difficult to even sympathize with. It's not even truly about the humanities, animal rights, religion, the holocaust, or any of the topics covered by the lectures and discussions of Costello and friends.
By my humble reading and impression, I think it's fundamentally concerned with how (or maybe why, or even whether) we come to believe what we believe. It also grapples with the idea that we are stripped of our dignity as we age.
In short, I hated the book. But I loved how it moved me. My impression has an uncanny resemblance to the feelings evoked by Costello's character. Nobody really likes what she has to say, and yet, they keep commissioning her lectures and inviting her to these fancy dinners. Hmmm. Deep, I think.
It's a must read, but don't expect it to sing to you. You have to work for this one and that's the point. I think.
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