The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge PDF/EPUB ¾ of

The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge PDF/EPUB ¾ of

The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge [PDF / Epub] ☆ The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge Author Rainer Maria Rilke – Centrumpowypadkowe.co.uk The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge is Rilke s major prose work and was one of the earliest publications to introduce him to American readers The very wide audience which Rilke s work commands today The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge is of Malte PDF/EPUB ç Rilke s major prose work and was one of the earliest publications to introduce him to American readers The very wide audience which Rilke s work commands today will welcome the reissue in paperback of this extremely perceptive translation of the Notebooks by M D Herter Norton A masterly translation of one of the first great modernist The Notebooks PDF/EPUB or novels by one of the German language s greatest poets, in which a young man named Malte Laurids Brigge lives in a cheap room in Paris while his belongings rot in storage Every person he sees seems to carry their death within them and with little but a library card to distinguish him from the city s untouchables, he thinks of the deaths, and ghosts, Notebooks of Malte eBook ✓ of his aristocratic family, of which he is the sole living descendant Suffused with passages of lyrical brilliance, Rilke s semi autobiographical novel is a moving and powerful coming of age story.


10 thoughts on “The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge

  1. Kalliope Kalliope says:

    We humans, with our mighty brain, like to use its powers to dwell on our own condition, which is precisely, but only partly, determined by the nature of this brain with which we have been equipped.Themes like love, or an emphatic vulnerability to another being our sense of time, with memories of our own lives and experiences from times when this brain was still young and absorbing the world and absorbing itself, or with anxiety about the life not yet lived the material surroundings, with objec We humans, with our mighty brain, like to use its powers to dwell on our own condition, which is precisely, but only partly, determined by the nature of this brain with which we have been equipped.Themes like love, or an emphatic vulnerability to another being our sense of time, with memories of our own lives and experiences from times when this brain was still young and absorbing the world and absorbing itself, or with anxiety about the life not yet lived the material surroundings, with objects that become familiar extensions of our selves, or with some artifacts that awaken in us a feeling of elation and that we identify as art dwellings that become our private spaces offering us comfort or a sense of constriction, or public ones where we cross others like us, or large rooms stacked with magic objects that are like little windows into the mind of another and which we call books all these themes fascinate us and we relish meditating upon them.But apart from all the above, there could be another recurring thought in this busily thinking brain An obsession with its own incontrovertible and eventual void Death.Rilke spent some time during 1902 03 in Paris, when he was in his late twenties, during which he dedicated himself to writing about art He wrote on Rodin with whom he became quite close May be his interest in the materiality of matter originates there He also studied C zanne who was at the end of his days, and left a series of letters on his paintings, still revered by contemporary art historians and which I plan to be my next Rilke read Briefe ber Cezanne.He also started this fictional diary, supposedly written by a character called Malte Laurids Brigge, whose name we don t get to know until about a full third into the book, although even then his identity remains elusive, and who, perhaps not coincidentally, has the same age as Rilke was when writing it This work he did not finish until about 1908 while he was in Rome and was published in Paris when he returned, in 1910.This is the only novel Rilke wrote But it is not a novel really he called it Prosabuch As a series of poetic vignettes it has to be read slowly With an interrupted reading one can deal better with the fragmentation in the inner narrative It helps not to try and impose a linear development, for the vignettes around seventy of them , are loosely connected by what at best could be understood as a personal recollections A diary of observations, not of happenings.So, this fl neur of the mind offers us visits to the streets of Paris, its libraries, and horrid hospitals, and we become lookers like him with a full range myopia and hyperopia Or he invites us to the opposite of urban existence the mansion and gardens of his childhood in which we no longer know who is a ghost or who is a specter in his mind And these the views of recollection are visually compressed.Oppositions help in delineating meaning And so as well as city countryside, we seeof these that function like poles from which this tenuous non narrative hangs Seeing and blindness, love and loneliness, poverty and wealth, health and diseases, and most clearly of all, life and death.But for me the most captivating parts were those in which the fl neur of aesthetics stays well alive, and tunes his senses for the discovery of art, whether this is his own writing his quest in the search of poetry, or the magic contained in, for example, a cycle of tapestries where he finds this sought poetry.The way he beholds the Dame la Licorne series is unsurpassed


  2. Orsodimondo Orsodimondo says:

    IO IMPARO A VEDERELuigi Russolo Profumo, 1910Era l epoca in cui cercavo identificazione piena in ci che leggevo, volevo specchiarmi e riflettermi nel personaggio principale Errore madornale Ma in quella mia epoca succedeva cos vivevo via dalla famiglia gi da un po , mi stavo impadronendo della mia vita e stavo entrando nel mondo.Malte stato uno degli eroi letterari che mi hanno accompagnato in quegli anni, insieme stavamo cercando il senso della vita.Per completare il gioco di identif IO IMPARO A VEDERELuigi Russolo Profumo, 1910Era l epoca in cui cercavo identificazione piena in ci che leggevo, volevo specchiarmi e riflettermi nel personaggio principale Errore madornale Ma in quella mia epoca succedeva cos vivevo via dalla famiglia gi da un po , mi stavo impadronendo della mia vita e stavo entrando nel mondo.Malte stato uno degli eroi letterari che mi hanno accompagnato in quegli anni, insieme stavamo cercando il senso della vita.Per completare il gioco di identificazione, Malte un doppio dello stesso Rilke, questo romanzo ha forte sapore autobiografico.E Rainer Maria, che probabilmente ha espresso il meglio di s nella poesia pi che nella prosa, era dannatamente moderno con quella sua inquietudine esistenziale con la quale vestiva anche Malte.Carlo Carr Ricordi d infanzia, 1910Malte un giovane danese di famiglia decaduta che arriva a Parigi e in queste sue pagine annota, senza ordine e senza data, fatti, ricordi e soprattutto pensieri, emozioni e sentimenti, angoscia e solitudine Io imparo a vedere, dice Malte, ed era proprio quello che stavo cercando di fare anch io in quel periodo della mia vita, e quello che mi pare stesse facendo lo stesso Rilke che dopo la pubblicazione di questo 1910 entr in una siccit artistica che dur diversi anni dodici, credo.Queste pagine raccontano un apprendistato per la vita Il che non so se si traduce davvero in un romanzo di formazione Anche perch , questo un romanzo non romanzo con quel suo procedere in prima persona con andamento che interseca realt e fantasia, sogno e delirio, ricordo e immaginazione, impressioni e tormenti Fino al pianto.Paula Modersohn Becker


  3. Tamer Tamer says:

    This novel is amazing.I am sitting here, reading the responses left by others, and what the hell Most of you are downgrading this book due to the lack of Rilke s message in this book For those of you who do not know Rilke, Rilke is considered one of the worlds greatest poets, as this was his first and only novel If you do not like, nor prefer poetry, this novel is not for you The book is a compilation of narrative, philosophical asides, sketches for future poems, and detailed description This novel is amazing.I am sitting here, reading the responses left by others, and what the hell Most of you are downgrading this book due to the lack of Rilke s message in this book For those of you who do not know Rilke, Rilke is considered one of the worlds greatest poets, as this was his first and only novel If you do not like, nor prefer poetry, this novel is not for you The book is a compilation of narrative, philosophical asides, sketches for future poems, and detailed descriptions of artwork It is clear that the writer is a poet, for much of the content does not make sense except in an irrational way As every selection in the book shows, he prefers to sit in the corner with his notebook making observations about those around him or delving into his reminiscences from home, never getting up and actually entering into the reality of life Those who need a clear plot and a reliable narrator beware This book is non linear and readslike poetry than a traditional novel Or even as a diary The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge is a challenging novel, as there is no storyline, nor plot structure Instead, this the notes in this novel deliver an cryptic poetic message I can see ones point when claiming they do not understand why there is German words in this novel, despite it being translated When reading, just like everyone else, I m garbling the pronunciation, but it doesn t matter I like the sounds And not only the sounds, I enjoy the anticipation, the holding my breath quality of knowing that the English words sit right there, across the gutter of the page The fact that the translator did not take all of Rilke s words and water them down, but instead leaves them there for the readers to witness Rilke s real words and beauty, makes the novel that much better I just started reading this novel, and I can say with merriment that I m extremely drawn in by the compelled beauty in which Rilke delivers This novel is truly amazing, as I see it as nothing less I hate seeing RM s work get bashed, all because some people can t endure beautiful literature This is a novel I shall posses for the rest of my life


  4. Jan-Maat Jan-Maat says:

    I felt repeatedly while reading The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge that I might have had a strong positive response to it if I had have a fear of death or if I was well acquainted with the poetry of Rilke I also noticed while reading that I do not have a fear of death view spoiler or at least certainly not in a manner similar enough to the narrative voice hide spoiler and that the notebooks failed to instil such a fear in me, further what ever desire I may have had to read Rilke s I felt repeatedly while reading The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge that I might have had a strong positive response to it if I had have a fear of death or if I was well acquainted with the poetry of Rilke I also noticed while reading that I do not have a fear of death view spoiler or at least certainly not in a manner similar enough to the narrative voice hide spoiler and that the notebooks failed to instil such a fear in me, further what ever desire I may have had to read Rilke s poetry withered in me At times the narrator mused on love and the difference between how men and women love leading me to think several times to myself what a load of old bollocks view spoiler a curious vernacular expression now that I come to think of it hide spoiler this I hasten to assure the gentle reader is not my typical response to the books which pass through my hands Perhaps we can take it as read that I was something less than delighted by Rilke s demi semi novel However, at the same time, I am not entirely unappreciative of it.Well so far I have talked around it, so let me beat the bush directly for a change The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge are ostensibly written by the eponymous Malte Laurids Brigge, a Dane from a downwardly mobile Danish aristocratic family The note books open on the 11th of September, presumably sometime around 1910 when Rilke published the work Brigge is in Paris, he seems to be poor view spoiler he is the kind of poor that can afford to store his old furniture in a barn and knock about in Paris with no apparent income hide spoiler but has a wish not to be identified as one of the Parisian urban poor, the opening pages are an intense rush of sensory impressions mostly unpleasant, Brigge is particularly aware of hospitals, of one of which he describes asa factory production line, of course, and with such an immense output the quality of individual deaths may varyp.5 generally people don t think of hospitals as death factories, so Brigge struck me as a person who had either recovered from a severe disease or was particularly obsessed by death it emerges that the latter is the case Brigge says some striking things that he is learning to see, that as he changes he is not the same person as he was, therefore he cannot write to people that he knew because they have now become strangers to each other, and that people wear different faces A doctor offers him the opportunity to undergo electric shock treatment but while waiting his turn Brigge runs off.This is all mysterious and written densely creating an intense impression, several times I had to go back and read a paragraph again, which didn t particularly help After a while the narration changes and he recounts events from his childhood, the death of his mother, later of his father, people on the verge of dying, a ghost, his sudden turn to reading, making visits I didn t have much of a sense of how the young Brigge connected to the older one in Paris apart from the stress on deaths, or why he went to Paris Towards the end the narrative shifts back to Paris how he can hear the neighbours through the walls, ruminations on love, God features throughout but I felt as a synonym for love rather than a set of specific beliefs.Obviously at a loss, I was obliged to make recourse to a popular on line encyclopeadia to see if anything there might throw some light on what I had read There the Notebooks were described as semi autobiographical so maybe we have a game the author saying this is me and this is not me indeed some elements in the novel apparently were drawn from his own life, but we also have a distancing the author is asserting that Brigge is a fiction, perhaps a person he could have been but one who he is not, Rilke was from Prague not Denmark and his parents middle class not aristocrats Rilke started work on the Notebooks when he was in Paris busy as a Rodin super fan, I had read his essay on Rodin and maybe I still have that book somewhere packaged away it was as far as I can remember a completely different work, exuberant and passionate about Rodin s creativity These notebooks just sit there obviously enough, there is no plot, nor a sense as in a diary of entering into someone s life, nothing for me congealed into a creative unity or understanding of Brigge Rilke but then as I have to remind myself why would it It says it is the notebooks of Brigge, not the manifesto of Brigge, I assume the reader has a sympathetic grasp of them or does not as in my case.The infamous encyclopeadia also mentioned that after a favourable reaction to the Bolshevik revolution and the short lived Bavarian Soviet he ended up writing private letters in which he praised Mussolini, shortly afterwards and coincidentally he died fortunately before he became a fully fledged Fascist if I was to read these notebooks as an anti bourgeosis, anti capitalist, escape from the Weberian iron cage of modernity, full of longing for a mystification of the rational world then Fascism would have been a logical endpoint as it did offer a mystification of the rational world and transformed the fear of death into the idealisation of death mostly of other people admittedly There is in his musings on God a sense that he had been bitten deeply by religion in childhood and retained an emotional need for it while intellectually it no longer satisfied him, others particularly perhaps of Protestant inclinations would lean towards spiritualism, the occult, and palm reading I am thinking of W.B Yeats, possibly unjustly.Anyway I am bemused and adrift having finished The Notebooks, there is some intense writing but for me it doesn t come together other than to imagine that Brigge might have been an artist but wasn t and that he was not in a good state of mind, being alone in Paris showed no signs of agreeing with him at all On the plus side at least he did not start murdering prostitutes view spoiler which at one stage did look as though it might be a possibility hide spoiler.It may be that it suffers in translation and losses a certain lyricism, it is the kind of book in which I can imagine that the music of the language carries the reader, but not in this translation to this reader


  5. Eric Eric says:

    Rilke s semiautobiographical surrogate Malte Laurids Brigge is a young Dane, a noble scion adrift in early twentieth century Paris, trying to become a poet He corresponds rather well to Anthony Burgess s description, in his charming study ReJoyce 1965 , of the type of student Stephen Daedelus represents, poor, treasuring old books with foxed leaves, independent, unwhining, deaf to political and social shibboleths, fanatically devoted to art and art only Malte and Stephen hang out at the Bib Rilke s semiautobiographical surrogate Malte Laurids Brigge is a young Dane, a noble scion adrift in early twentieth century Paris, trying to become a poet He corresponds rather well to Anthony Burgess s description, in his charming study ReJoyce 1965 , of the type of student Stephen Daedelus represents, poor, treasuring old books with foxed leaves, independent, unwhining, deaf to political and social shibboleths, fanatically devoted to art and art only Malte and Stephen hang out at the Bibliotheque Nationale, worry about how incidents of shabbiness in their wardrobes may effect their dignity, and are nuts about Ibsen or was that just Joyce himself Did he lend that admiration of his to Stephen I m not near my bookshelves Malte doesn t have anything like Stephen s confidence in ultimate triumph like the Camus and Sartre heroes for whom he is said to have provided a model, Malte is pushed pretty hard up against the wall by metaphysical doubts and a general terror before existence But even so, they both have high caliber minds that relish the lyrical gnomic fragment and eschew exposition or transition in the very best badass tradition of high modernist narration in the telling of eerie tales from their unhappy childhoods Malte s mom is dead, too and in excursions through their daunting hoards of philosophical and historical arcana Stephen likes scholastic philosophy Malte has a thing for famous female anchorites and fanatical mystic nuns, plus, and this is a big one for him, the deathbed agonies of medieval French kings as encountered in Froissart s Chronicles and Rilke is like Joyce, and like Baudelaire their mutual master in this respect profoundly attentive to the crushing squalor and pathos to be glimpsed in the sinuous creases of old capital cities Or that time in Naples that young creature sat there opposite me in the street car and died At first it looked like a fainting spell we even drove on for a while But then there was no doubt that we had to stop And behind us vehicles halted and piled up, as though there would never be anymoving in that direction The pale, stout girl might have quietly died like that, leaning against the woman beside her But her mother would not allow this She contrived all possible difficulties for her She disordered her clothes and poured something into her mouth which could no longer retain anything She rubbed her forehead with a liquid someone had brought, and when the eyes, at that, rolled back a little, she began to shake her to make her gaze come forward again She shouted into those eyes that heard nothing, she pushed and pulled the whole thing to and fro like a doll, and finally she raised her arm and struck the puffy face with all her might, so that it should not die That time I was afraid.Rilke s tableaux parisiens are as uncanny and disturbing as Baudelaire s He s as fascinated by the old, the worn out, the thrown away, the girls, still unused in their innermost depths, who had never been loved as the poet of Les Sept Vieillards and Les Petites Vieilles On a blind newspaper peddler s Sunday cravat and new straw hat He himself got no pleasure from them, and who among all these people I looked about me could imagine that all this finery was for them The wannabe Bohemian girls from good families Malte encounters copying in museums wear dresses that, without servants to button then all the way up, appear half open in the back Beside him in one of the waiting rooms of the Hospice de la Salp tri re, a last refuge of prostitutes and beggars, aged women and the insane, Malte becomes conscious of a huge, immovable mass, having a face that I saw was empty, quite without features and without memories and it was gruesome that the clothes were like that of a corpse dressed for a coffin The narrow, black cravat had been buckled in the same loose, impersonal way around the collar, and the coat showed that it had been put on the will less body by other hands The hand had been placed on the trousers exactly where it lay, and even the hair looked as if it had been combed by those women who lay out the dead, and was stiffly arranged, like the hair of stuffed animals.The portions of Malte s family memories and introspection are no less absorbing Rilke s imagery is often so striking that even the deepest burrowing in Malte s malaise and artistic self doubt can rival the lurid street scenes I put my little strength together like money but inside you it preciptates, hardens, takes on pointed, geometrical forms between your organs it was a literal, unambiguous tale that destroyed the teeming maggots of my conjectures Certainly the weightiest book I ve read this year


  6. [P] [P] says:

    I don t imagine that I will always read I hope not, anyway For someone who is so scared of death it is rather perverse, or certainly absurd, that I spend so much of my time amongst the dead, instead of engaging with the world around me Indeed, that is why I started reading heavily, it was, I m sure, a way of turning away from a world that I so often felt, and still feel, at odds with, towards another that I could control and which did not challenge me With books, I can pick and choose a sens I don t imagine that I will always read I hope not, anyway For someone who is so scared of death it is rather perverse, or certainly absurd, that I spend so much of my time amongst the dead, instead of engaging with the world around me Indeed, that is why I started reading heavily, it was, I m sure, a way of turning away from a world that I so often felt, and still feel, at odds with, towards another that I could control and which did not challenge me With books, I can pick and choose a sensibility, an outlook, that chimes with my own and I can guarantee company and conversation that I don t find alienating or dispiriting To this end, I have read The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge three times As a novel it is something of a failure, but large parts of it resonate with me as much as, if notthan, any writing ever set down on paper My last hope was always the window I imagined that outside there, there still might be something that belonged to me, even now, even in this sudden poverty of dying But scarcely had I looked thither when I wished the window had been barricaded, blocked up, like the wall For now I knew that things were going on out there in the same indifferent way, that out there, too, there was nothing but my loneliness The Notebooks is essentially the thoughts, memories and impressions of Malte, a twenty eight year old Dane who has recently moved to Paris There are a number of well known but now dated novels that deal with the ex pat experience, such as Cortazar s Hopscotch and Miller s Tropic of Cancer, novels that are invariably marred by machismo and pretension The Notebooks, however, contains none of that Rilke s Paris isn t a playboy s playground, littered with booze and whores it is a great city, full of curious temptations, but there is nothing glamorous about it and no sense that Malte is living some kind of mock heroic existence Indeed, in the opening line of the novel he states that Paris is a place where, it strikes him, one does not go to live, but where one goes to die it is a place that smells of pommes frites and fear.That Malte is the last, or one of the last, in his family line is trebly significant, for he is preoccupied with death, with solitude, and with nostalgia One notices that, again in contrast with many other similar novels, there is not one living character with whom he regularly engages or communicates In Paris he is an observer, making notes about ordinary citizens, but never interacting with them For example, he sees a pregnant woman inching ponderously along by a high, sun warmed wall as though seeking assurance that it was still there, he watches a man collapse, and then another who has some kind of physical ailment that causes him to hop and jerk suddenly He appears to be drawn to the eccentric and lost, the suffering and down trodden, no doubt because he identifies with them, but he remains alone and isolated himself Towards the end of the novel he states that he once felt a loneliness of such enormity that his heart was not equal to it.However, when he is surrounded by people, such as when there is a carnival, he describes it as a vicious tide of humanity and notes how laughter oozes from their mouths like pus from a wound Malte is the kind of man who lives mostly in his head who, although he encourages his solitude, is scared of losing his connection with the world, of withdrawing and parting from it At one point he goes to the library, and praises it as a place where people are so engrossed in their reading that they barely acknowledge each other He spends his time strolling to little shops, book dealers and antique places, that, he says, no one ever visits Once , we see an interest in obscure things, in things that have been forgotten or neglected One of my favourite passages is when he comes upon a torn down building, and he states that it is the bit that is left that interests him, the last remaining wall with little bits of floor still visible It is the suggestion of something once whole, once fully functioning that grabs his attention Rainer Maria Rilke left and Auguste Rodin in Paris As noted, much of the book is concerned with Malte s memories regarding his family, specifically in relation to his childhood One understands how this his upbringing and family situation may have gone some way to making him the man he is He is taciturn, he says, and then notes how his father was too His father was not fond of physical affection either Later, in one of theautobiographical anecdotes, Malte talks about his mother s mourning for a dead child, a little girl, and how he would pretend to be Sophie the name of Rilke s own mother in an effort to please her It is therefore not a surprise that he is highly sensitive, inward looking and ill at ease with himself Indeed, there is much in The Notebooks about identity and individuality There are, Malte says, no plurals, there is no women, only singularities he baulks at the term family, saying that the four people under this umbrella did not belong together Further, at one stage he fools around, dressing up in different costumes, in which he feelshimself, not less but then he tries on a mask and has some kind of emotional breakdown.All of these things ruins, obscurity, deformity, ailments, nostalgia, the self, loneliness come together in what is the book s dominant theme, which is that of death Only Tolstoy s Ivan Ilych and Lampedusa s The Leopard contain as much heartrending insight into the subject There are numerous passages and quotes I could discuss or lift from the text, but, not wanting to ruin your own reading, I will focus on only one When writing about individuality, Malte bemoans the fact, as he sees it, that people do not die their own deaths any, they die the death of their illness, they become their illness and their passing, therefore, has nothing to do with them In sanatoriums, he continues, people die so readily and with much gratitude the upper classes die a genteel death at home, and the lower classes are simply happy to find a death thator less fits Who is there today who still cares about a well finished death No one Even the rich, who could after all afford this luxury, are beginning to grow lazy and indifferent the desire to have a death of one s own is becomingandrare In a short time it will be as rare as a life of one s own Malte contrasts these predictable, unheroic deaths with that of his uncle, Chamberlain Christoph Detlev Brigge The old Chamberlain died extravagantly his death was so huge that new wings of the house ought to have been built to accommodate it He shouted and made demands, demands to see people both living and dead and demands to die This voice plagued the locals, keeping them in a state of agitation it was a voice louder than the church bells it was the voice of death, not of Christoph, and it became the master, aterrible master than the Chamberlain had ever been himself The point that Malte is making seems to be that one should not go gentle into that good night, that one should not accept the death that most pleases others, that causes the least amount of fuss You will die, there is no escape, it is within you, your death, from the very first moment, you carry it with you at all times, but you do not have to go out with a whimper.I wrote at the beginning of this review that The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge is a failure as a novel and this probably warrants further explanation Rather like Pessoa s The Book of Disquiet, which it resembles in many ways actually, I imagine that some readers will find it difficult to read the book cover to cover There is absolutely no plot, and many of the entries do not follow on from the previous one Moreover, after a few pages about Paris, which I would guess serve to draw in a number of people, the focus abruptly shifts, and the book then becomes increasingly strange and elusive, with a relentless interiority None of this bothers me, however While I do hope to give up reading one day, I will, without question, carry this book around inside me for the rest of my life, rather like my death


  7. Ahmad Sharabiani Ahmad Sharabiani says:

    Die Aufzeichnungen des Malte Laurids Brigge The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge, Rainer Maria RilkeThe Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge was Rainer Maria Rilke s only novel, and is said to have greatly influenced such other writers as Jean Paul Sartre It was written whilst Rilke lived in Paris, and was published in 1910 The novel is semi autobiographical, and is written in an expressionistic style 2002 Die Aufzeichnungen des Malte Laurids Brigge The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge, Rainer Maria RilkeThe Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge was Rainer Maria Rilke s only novel, and is said to have greatly influenced such other writers as Jean Paul Sartre It was written whilst Rilke lived in Paris, and was published in 1910 The novel is semi autobiographical, and is written in an expressionistic style 2002 1379 271 271 274 9649285202 1393 272 9789644483820 20


  8. Andrew Andrew says:

    Dense, peculiar, at times impenetrable, at times utterly bursting with stunning imagery, this is an immensely difficult book to pin down And it got under my skin Proust crashing headlong into Dostoyevsky This is what happens when a writer who is, at heart, a lyrical romantic faces the dawning industrial era with a combination of absolute trepidation and awe.And if you live alone, in a foreign city, sure of not very much, your mind periodically drawn back to a childhood in a frigid Northern cl Dense, peculiar, at times impenetrable, at times utterly bursting with stunning imagery, this is an immensely difficult book to pin down And it got under my skin Proust crashing headlong into Dostoyevsky This is what happens when a writer who is, at heart, a lyrical romantic faces the dawning industrial era with a combination of absolute trepidation and awe.And if you live alone, in a foreign city, sure of not very much, your mind periodically drawn back to a childhood in a frigid Northern clime, you ll be as devastated by it as I was, and you will climb up to the top of your building, look at the sun set in a language you barely speak, and you ll realize exactly where Rilke was coming from


  9. Adam Floridia Adam Floridia says:

    Sometimes choosing a star rating can be difficult To avoid falling trap to such uncertainty, I try to stick as formally to the description as possible ie 1 didn t like, 2 it was ok, 3 liked it, etc What gets really hairy, though, is when I have to reconcile liked with appreciated, which can be at odds and which happens occasionally with literature This is made all the tougher when I already have it in my head that I should like, or at the very least appreciate, a book be Sometimes choosing a star rating can be difficult To avoid falling trap to such uncertainty, I try to stick as formally to the description as possible ie 1 didn t like, 2 it was ok, 3 liked it, etc What gets really hairy, though, is when I have to reconcile liked with appreciated, which can be at odds and which happens occasionally with literature This is made all the tougher when I already have it in my head that I should like, or at the very least appreciate, a book because people whose opinions I respect think highly of it That should really does get me and make me second guess my own opinion I feel like I don t know how much of it I understood, but it was as if I were being solemnly promised that at some time I would understand it all 150 Thank goodness goodreads allows so much space for someone to move beyond a simplistic star rating and to give lengthy descriptions of the different aspects of the books that reached him as well as provide rambling prefatory notes I didn t like reading this I never found myself anxiously awaiting the next time I could find time to pick it up and readabout Malte s childhood reminiscences I waded through his obscure historical asides, couldn t keep any of the names straight, and just didn t care I actually cringed at certain passages which I thought were striving so hard to achieve profundity and reached odd at best For example, when Malte hit upon the idea of offering the neighbor on the other side of the wall my will For one day I understood that his was at an end And after that, whenever I felt it coming on, I stood on my side of the wall and begged him to make use of it And as far as my expenditure of will was concerned, I began to feel it 132 To me this reeks of a would be poet attempting to emphasize how he feels thingsdeeply than the common man, when, in reality, he s nuts and it makes no sense Plus, that page is followed by a page of meditation on a box lid, a lid that could have no other longing than to find itself on its box the fulfillment of its desires 134 He even decides this box lid has it in for me Then there are his ruminations on love, death, and God All fodder for some very profound revelations However, again I just couldn t get into them it s the same problem I ve always had with the Transcendentalists, and some of this sounded pretty transcendentalist ish In the garden, there is one chief thing everything is everywhere, and one would have to be in everything in order not to miss anything 149 Malte is definitely trying to live deep and suck out the marrow of life, to separate himself from the mass of men who lead lives of quiet desperation HOWEVER, there were many passages that I did find profound, especially towards the beginning Maybe this just isn t the type of book one can read a few pages at a time in ten minute bursts In the beginning, I understand that Malte does represent the true Modern man he is learning to see 3 , discovering that the main thing was that one was alive 2 , wondering Is it possible that the whole history of the world has been misunderstood Is it possible that the past is false because one has always spoken of its masses 16 , understanding that something is going on in me as well, something that is beginning to distance and separate me from everything 37 Talk about embodying the disillusionment, isolation, and true severing of ties with the past of the modernist movement just read page 38 in its entirety and you ve got a summary of said movement There is sooo much talk about masks in the book, and I see that as a metaphor for Malte s goal He seeks to reveal the Truth to all of those around him, to rip away the false masks under which they live Unfortunately, he is too awkward especially around girls and self conscious and insecure There were countless time throughout the text that I wrote in the margins Prufrock In fact, as I read I had planned for this review to be a comparison between this book and the poem Now I realize that I would have had to copy nearly the entire poem because comparisons connections can be drawn to nearly every line of it Now one accidentally emerges among accidental things and almost takes fright at not being invited 97 I mean, come on Malte s overwhelming question is My God, if it were possible to impart something of it But would it exist then, would it exist 54 And will they, in any event see what I am saying here 111 A Favorite Quotation Flowers and fruits are ripe when they fall animals feel themselves and find one another and are satisfied But we, who have made God for ourselves, we can not find satisfaction 174 A Favorite Scene When his dog reproaches him for letting death in Touching 121.A Quotation That, Perhaps, Sums Up My Reading Experience Many things came into my hands that, so to speak, ought to have been read already, for other things it was much too soon nothing at that time was just right for the present But nevertheless I read 148


  10. E. G. E. G. says:

    ChronologyIntroductionNotes to the IntroductionFurther ReadingA Note on the Text The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge Notes


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *