“Listen well, my dear, listen well! The sinner, which I am and which you are, is a sinner, but in times to come he will be Brahma again, he will reach the Nirvana, will be Buddha—and now see: these ‘times to come’ are a deception, are only a parable! The sinner is not on his way to become a Buddha, he is not in the process of developing, though our capacity for thinking does not know how else to picture these things. No, within the sinner is now and today already the future Buddha, his future is already all there, you have to worship in him, in you, in everyone the Buddha which is coming into being, the possible, the hidden Buddha. The world, my friend Govinda, is not imperfect, or on a slow path towards perfection: no, it is perfect in every moment, all sin already carries the divine forgiveness in itself, all small children already have the old person in themselves, all infants already have death, all dying people the eternal life. It is not possible for any person to see how far another one has already progressed on his path; in the robber and dice-gambler, the Buddha is waiting; in the Brahman, the robber is waiting. In deep meditation, there is the possibility to put time out of existence, to see all life which was, is, and will be as if it was simultaneous, and there everything is good, everything is perfect, everything is Brahman. Therefore, I see whatever exists as good, death is to me like life, sin like holiness, wisdom like foolishness, everything has to be as it is, everything only requires my consent, only my willingness, my loving agreement, to be good for me, to do nothing but work for my benefit, to be unable to ever harm me. I have experienced on my body and on my soul that I needed sin very much, I needed lust, the desire for possessions, vanity, and needed the most shameful despair, in order to learn how to give up all resistance, in order to learn how to love the world, in order to stop comparing it to some world I wished, I imagined, some kind of perfection I had made up, but to leave it as it is and to love it and to enjoy being a part of it.—These, oh Govinda, are some of the thoughts which have come into my mind.”
Ummm, no. I’m afraid I can’t quite agree with this philosophy. However, I am always glad I’ve read books like this so I can be knowledgeable about the ideas they espouse. I’ve long wanted to read more by German authors so that was a plus as well. In addition, I can also count it for the 1001 list. So although I did not care for the philosophy of the book, it did meet several of my goals.
Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair was written in 1924, when Chilean poet Pablo Neruda was only 19. It went on to sell millions of copies over the years and was translated into multiple languages. Neruda won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1971 and died two years later in 1973.
Neruda’s poems definitely have a sensuousness about them, and they also evoke the poet’s passion and pain. I only wish I knew Spanish so I could understand the poems in their original. Poetry must be one of the most difficult of writings to translate, but this dual language edition was penned by Pulitzer Prize-winning poet W.S. Mervin.
An interesting note — the cover of the book is Heart by Andy Warhol.
A portion of “Every Day You Play”:
Mis palabras llovieron sobre ti acariciándote.
Amé desde hace tiempo tu cuerpo de nácar soleado.
Hasta te creo dueña del universo.
Te traeré de las montañas flores alegres, copihues,
avellanas oscuras, y cestas silvestres de besos.
Quiero hacer contigo
lo que la primavera hace con los cerezos.
My words rained over you, stroking you.
A long time I have loved the sunned mother-of-pearl of your body.
I go so far as to think that you own the universe.
I will bring you happy flowers from the mountains, bluebells,
dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses.
I want to do with you
what spring does with the cherry trees.
I read Kristin Lavransdatter I: The Wreath at this time last year. I also read the first half of the second book at that time but have just now finished it. I only put it down because I had some challenges and arcs to finish, not because I wasn’t enjoying it. Now that I needed a ‘U’ author, a classic, and a Nobel laureate for challenges, it was time to get back to it!
In this second volume, Kristin goes to Husaby with her husband to begin their new life together. She soon finds out marriage and motherhood can be exhausting, especially with her own family so far away. She has quite a few children and all the while struggles with past mistakes and new ones. Her faith is a comfort to her but she desperately misses her own family, especially her father. Finally she gets to go home when her younger sister gets married. Although elated to see Lavrans, there is also a bit of a strain put on their relationship which pains Kristin greatly.
There is a lot more to Kristin’s story that I’m not willing to spoil for you. Let’s just say I’m excited to read Volume III and complete the saga.
Sigrid Undset won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1928, primarily for this trilogy. Kristin Lavransdatter is a book I highly recommend to you if you love classics or want to know more about Norway and/or this time period (the 1300s). It is a fascinating look at a woman with a strong Christian faith but one who is far, far away from being perfect.
1921, 401 pp.
Rating: 4.5/5
Why not do a ‘twin’ review since I read them relatively close together? I had seen both of these movies before I read the books, and I recently re-watched The Hours because it was available for online viewing through Netflix. I’d like to watch Mrs. Dalloway again as well. The movie of the The Hours follows the book very closely-there are a few minor changes. Nicole Kidman does an outstanding job in this film. I was most interested in the Virginia Woolf storyline, so I was happy she was so well portrayed. It’s funny that Meryl Streep ended up playing Clarissa when she (Meryl Streep) is actually talked about in The Hours (the book). I don’t remember the movie Mrs. Dalloway much at all, hence the reason I wish to re-view it.
Well, on to the books. The Hours won the Pulitzer in 1999. It’s a cleverly told story that intersects the 3 women’s lives very well. However, it does change the story of Mrs. Dalloway into homos*xual relationships. It was interesting to see the twist in the storyline, particularly if you know the real one, but I couldn’t help thinking, “Doesn’t Clarissa (in The Hours) know that her life is too coincidental with the characters’ names from Mrs. Dalloway?” To me, it would have been a better story if Cunningham had left out all the references to the actual book itself. The reader knows that’s what it’s about, so why keep referring to it? It makes The Hours too unbelievable. It’s an interesting book, and I’m glad I read it, but I can’t help having mixed feelings about it.
Mrs. Dalloway. I must be too dense in the literary sense, because I just don’t get this book at all. I had to stop reading it every half hour because it was just too much otherwise. I felt a similar way this year when I read Inheritance of Loss. I just don’t enjoy a book when I have to read it that way. I don’t get into planning parties or the minute details of such. In fact, I avoid that like the plague. I’m not into social scenes, either. In this book, everyone loves Clarissa, but isn’t she the most shallow character in it? I don’t get it. I would like to re-read it again in a few years to see if I feel any differently. At least I feel more enlightened that I have finally read Woolf. I’d actually like to read more about her than by her.
For The Hours: 1998, 226 pp.
Rating: 3.5
Pulitzer, 1999
The Wreath is Book 1 in Kristin Lavransdatter by Sigrid Undset, a Norwegian Nobel laureate. I had this book down as one I wanted to read in 2007 since last January! The size of it (all 3 books together are 1100+ pages) intimidated me so much that I’m just now getting to Book 1.
In The Wreath, we learn of Kristin’s childhood and her relationship to her family and her community. She grows up in a home where her father adores her, and while her mother loves her very much, she is also sad much of the time due to multiple miscarriages. The descriptions of the farm life and scenes of 14th century Norway are simply fantastic. The book really has a sense of place and time.
The next two books are The Wife (which I’m halfway through) and The Cross. I really wish now that I had started earlier so that I could have completed the entire book in 2007. I’m anxious to see what will happen in Kristin’s life.
This Pulitzer-winning book was the first of three Pulitzers for Thornton Wilder, who also won for his plays Our Town and The Skin of Our Teeth. It has an interesting premise. One that people could relate to today (in light of the Omaha Mall killings) and in recent years (9/11). When a bridge collapses near Lima, Peru, the question is asked, “Why did those five particular individuals die, and the rest did not?” A monk who witnesses the event seeks to delve into the lives of the five who were killed and into the lives of the survivors to see if he can find any answers. The book then flashes back to the histories of those dead, and we get a glimpse of their goodness and piety (or lack thereof) and their usefulness to society. This ‘formula’ is used by the monk to try to determine an explanation to this question.
I have read Our Town and have also seen it performed, but I was not prepared for Wilder’s gorgeous writing. I will definitely be seeking out more of his books and plays. Two that look promising are Theophilus North and the one-act play “The Long Christmas Dinner.”
I’ll leave you with a sample of his prose:
All night they talked, secretly comforting their hearts that longed always for Spain and telling themselves that such a symposium was after the manner of the high Spanish soul. They talked about ghosts and second-sight, and about the earth before man appeared upon it and about the possibility of the planets striking against one another; about whether the soul can be seen, like a dove, fluttering away at the moment of death; they wondered whether at the second coming of Christ to Jerusalem, Peru would be long in receiving the news. They talked until the sun rose, about wars and kings, about poets and scholars, and about strange countries. Each one poured into the conversation his store of wise sad anecdotes and his dry regret about the race of men.
This was a quick read, and one that probably deserves to be re-read in the future.
I read this a few weeks months?! ago, and I’m not sure why I haven’t written the review yet. I want to talk about it intelligently because I really loved it. Unfortunately, intelligent writing has eluded me lately. Had to write the review today, though, as it was one of my Dystopian Challenge books.
This book preceded and heavily influenced both 1984 and Brave New World. People have no names, just letters and numbers. They plan on going on to other planets to compel others to adopt their mathematically-minded happiness. Emotions aren’t allowed. They live in glass apartments. Everything ‘human’ is discouraged. But. . . a rebel faction is present in and outside ‘the wall.’ Will those inside the wall learn to be truly human?
Side note: A few weeks ago I saw the movie Equilibrium starring Christian Bale, and it surely had to be influenced by this novel. If you’re interested in the dystopian genre, it’s a must-see. See my review here.
“Listen well, my dear, listen well! The sinner, which I am and which you are, is a sinner, but in times to come he will be Brahma again, he will reach the Nirvana, will be Buddha—and now see: these ‘times to come’ are a deception, are only a parable! The sinner is not on his way to become a Buddha, he is not in the process of developing, though our capacity for thinking does not know how else to picture these things. No, within the sinner is now and today already the future Buddha, his future is already all there, you have to worship in him, in you, in everyone the Buddha which is coming into being, the possible, the hidden Buddha. The world, my friend Govinda, is not imperfect, or on a slow path towards perfection: no, it is perfect in every moment, all sin already carries the divine forgiveness in itself, all small children already have the old person in themselves, all infants already have death, all dying people the eternal life. It is not possible for any person to see how far another one has already progressed on his path; in the robber and dice-gambler, the Buddha is waiting; in the Brahman, the robber is waiting. In deep meditation, there is the possibility to put time out of existence, to see all life which was, is, and will be as if it was simultaneous, and there everything is good, everything is perfect, everything is Brahman. Therefore, I see whatever exists as good, death is to me like life, sin like holiness, wisdom like foolishness, everything has to be as it is, everything only requires my consent, only my willingness, my loving agreement, to be good for me, to do nothing but work for my benefit, to be unable to ever harm me. I have experienced on my body and on my soul that I needed sin very much, I needed lust, the desire for possessions, vanity, and needed the most shameful despair, in order to learn how to give up all resistance, in order to learn how to love the world, in order to stop comparing it to some world I wished, I imagined, some kind of perfection I had made up, but to leave it as it is and to love it and to enjoy being a part of it.—These, oh Govinda, are some of the thoughts which have come into my mind.”
Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair was written in 1924, when Chilean poet Pablo Neruda was only 19. It went on to sell millions of copies over the years and was translated into multiple languages. Neruda won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1971 and died two years later in 1973.
I read 
The Wreath is Book 1 in Kristin Lavransdatter by Sigrid Undset, a Norwegian Nobel laureate. I had this book down as one I wanted to read in 2007 since last January! The size of it (all 3 books together are 1100+ pages) intimidated me so much that I’m just now getting to Book 1.
This Pulitzer-winning book was the first of three Pulitzers for Thornton Wilder, who also won for his plays Our Town and The Skin of Our Teeth. It has an interesting premise. One that people could relate to today (in light of the Omaha Mall killings) and in recent years (9/11). When a bridge collapses near Lima, Peru, the question is asked, “Why did those five particular individuals die, and the rest did not?” A monk who witnesses the event seeks to delve into the lives of the five who were killed and into the lives of the survivors to see if he can find any answers. The book then flashes back to the histories of those dead, and we get a glimpse of their goodness and piety (or lack thereof) and their usefulness to society. This ‘formula’ is used by the monk to try to determine an explanation to this question.
I read this a few 
