LE ROMAN DE LA ROSE
However, I'm glad that this work has been translated into English finally. It is most certainly an important book in his bibliography. It just wasn't a work I felt particularly impressed by. It ended up requiring very little from me, as a reader. Not something I like to end up with when I'm reading about an emotionally arrested writer questioning his ability to love. For me, the most important book I have read in the past decade for, you know, my, like, journey or whatever, has been the Semiotext e -published English translation of Pierre Guyotat's COMA.
Here was autobiographical writing as pure literature whether or not you are inclined to call in a novel. Writing that reflected on lived life and drew forth mammoth, cleansing lessons.
Get e-book Lamant blessé (Littérature Française) (French Edition)
COMA changed my world. Now comes another Semiotext e -published work of commanding autobiographical French liter For me, the most important book I have read in the past decade for, you know, my, like, journey or whatever, has been the Semiotext e -published English translation of Pierre Guyotat's COMA. It is not just the despairing, the longing, the losing sleep, and the anxieties that are the malodorous fruits of love and desire.
Even the ecstasies have the capacity to annihilate or at the very least drive one clean over the edge.
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The starkly fatalistic quality of doomed love is given added dimension in Guibert's extraordinary almost overwhelming masterpiece by virtue of the way that all the sex, all the tenderness, all the honest love detailed herein is overhung by the specter of AIDS. There is a revelation late in the book that absolutely knocked the wind out of me. It is a short read, easily it would seem assimilated in one sitting. I indeed read it over the course of an early afternoon. An odd artifact, purportedly Guibert's extracts from his journals, presented in reverse chronological order, detailing his obsession with a much younger and primarily straight boy during the final years of his life, while he himself was expiring from AIDS.
Originally published in French in , it has only now been translated into English, and while no longer particularly shocking, it still retains a glimmer of its original power - but is also a bit distasteful overall focusing on Vincent's va An odd artifact, purportedly Guibert's extracts from his journals, presented in reverse chronological order, detailing his obsession with a much younger and primarily straight boy during the final years of his life, while he himself was expiring from AIDS.
Originally published in French in , it has only now been translated into English, and while no longer particularly shocking, it still retains a glimmer of its original power - but is also a bit distasteful overall focusing on Vincent's various fungal infections and sexual peccadillos, etc. Still, it can literally be read in an hour, so the time spent on it is mostly worth it.
Oct 15, CharlieC rated it really liked it. A fragmented look back at the desperate feeling of gay lust in the s, that keeps going further and further back. Jul 25, Stefan rated it did not like it. Bitte dort nachsehen. View 1 comment. Feb 04, Trevor Church rated it it was amazing. Beautiful and disturbing. A remarkable piece of art. Mar 21, David rated it really liked it. I really loved the writing in this book, and found the form to be immaculate. I absolutely loved the short prose poem-like passages. This is, however, a work of art in which I, as the viewer, have to reconcile my appreciation of the work with my criticisms of the artist.
Vincent is definitely inappropriately young when this obsession begins—and I really loved the writing in this book, and found the form to be immaculate. Vincent is definitely inappropriately young when this obsession begins—and while some passages are incredibly lustful and beautiful, they are at the same time with a different lens, creepy too. Bet rated it it was amazing Jun 09, Inga rated it it was amazing Jul 04, Alexis Poirier-Saumure rated it really liked it Mar 06, David Borg rated it it was amazing Sep 17, Condition: Bien.
JEAN DE MEUNG
Dust Jacket Condition: Bien. Narrativa illustrator. More information about this seller Contact this seller 9. Published by Grasset About this Item: Grasset, French paperback first edition. Seller Inventory ABE More information about this seller Contact this seller From: CKR Inc. Toronto, ON, Canada. Condition: Good. Roman policier Perry Mason, traduit de l'anglais, titre orginal: The case of the lazy lover a Perry Mason detetctive story. Seller Inventory G Published by Paris Grasset About this Item: Paris Grasset , Condition: 6.
L'amant, First Edition
Published by P. About this Item: P. Bon Etat. Un vol. L'Amant fidele. Mis en Musique avec Accomp. Paris, Janet et Cotelle Pl. A good copy.
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Published by Paris: Grasset, About this Item: Paris: Grasset, Published by La Nouvelle Revue Critique, impr. Presses de Imprimeries G. Couverture rigide. Infimes rousseurs. Published by Paris, Grasset, 15 octobre About this Item: Paris, Grasset, 15 octobre Bel exemplaire. Published by Robert Laffont About this Item: Robert Laffont, Litterature edition-originale.
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Published by Albin Michel About this Item: Albin Michel, Glories Of human greatness are but pleasing dreams And shadows soon decaying; on the stage Of my mortality, my youth has acted Some scenes of vanity, drawn out at length By varied pleasures, sweetened in the mixture, But tragical in issue.
That remedy Must be a winding sheet, a fold of lead, And some untrod-on corner in the earth. In vain we labour in this course of life To piece our journey out at length, or crave Respite of breath; our home is in the grave. Sure if we were all sirens, we should sing pitifully, And 'twere a comely music, when in parts One sung another's knell; the turtle sighs When he hath lost his mate; and yet some say He must be dead first.
Indeed, I've slept With mine eyes open, a great while. No falsehood Equals a broken faith. There's not a hair Sticks on my head, but, like a leaden plummet, It sinks me to the grave; I must creep thither, This journey is not long. Since I was first a wife, I might have been Mother to many pretty prattling babes; They would have smiled when I smiled; and, for certain, I would have cried, when they cried;—Truly, brother, My father would have pick'd me out a husband, And then my little ones had been no bastards; But 'tis too late for me to marry now, I am past child bearing; 'tis not my fault Spare your hand.
Believe me, I'll not hurt it Complain not though I wring it hard; I'll kiss it; Oh 'tis a fine soft palm! There is no peace left for a ravish'd wife Widow'd by lawless marriage. To all memory Penthea's, poor Penthea's name is strumpeted Forgive me, oh, I faint.
There is a willow grows ascaunt the brook, That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream; Therewith fantastic garlands did she make Of crow-flowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples, That liberal shepherds give a grosser name, But our cold maids do dead-men's fingers call them. There on the pendent boughs her coronet weeds Clambering to hang, an envious sliver broke; When down her weedy trophies and herself Fell in the weeping brook. With fairest flowers, I'll sweeten thy sad grave; thou shallt not lack The flower, that's like thy face; pale primrose; nor The azur'd hare-bell, like thy veins; no, nor The leaf of eglantine, whom not to slander, Outsweeten'd not thy breath.
Hunting the buck I found him sitting by a fountain's side, Of which he borrowed some to quench his thirst, And paid the nymph again so much in tears.