Started by facehugger, April 07, 2007, 12:36:10 AM
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Quote from: vers la flamme on October 08, 2022, 07:20:25 AMBeen a while since I've participated in this thread but I have been reading a good bit lately. Currently Jun'ichiro Tanizaki's Some Prefer Nettles. I get the feeling that a good bit of subtlety is being lost in translation, something that happens all too often of course when reading translated fiction, but especially so in this case. But I am coming away with the impression that Tanizaki is a very odd guy with lots of unusual psycho-sexual hangups. The kind of guy Freud would have a field day with. Psychological elements aside, it's a fascinating story about marriage, and aesthetics.
Quote from: vers la flamme on October 10, 2022, 05:42:41 PM^Do you not like him anymore? Or has he simply been replaced as a favorite by someone else? That book looks awesome. I don't know anything about the Russo-Japanese War. But dang, it looks huge! Multiple volumes, each around 400 pages. Have you read all of them?
Quote from: Mandryka on October 10, 2022, 01:45:22 PMinear prose written with more or less schoolbook grammar and punctuation.
Quote from: aligreto on October 12, 2022, 01:06:20 AMI began reading "The Wings of The Dove" by Henry James recently. I could not get past the first ten pages due to the unwieldy text and writing style. This rarely happens with me but perhaps I will return to it again at some point in the future.
Quote from: Mandryka on October 12, 2022, 10:24:18 AMSpoke to soon. Just look at this sentence. If he had lived in Frenchman's Bend itself during that spring and summer, he would have known no more—a little lost village, nameless, without grace, forsaken, yet which wombed once by chance and accident one blind seed of the spendthrift Olympian ejaculation and did not even know it, without tumescence conceived, and bore—one bright brief summer, concentric, during which three fairly well-horsed buggies stood in steady rotation along a picket fence or spun along adjacent roads between the homes and the crossroads stores and the schoolhouses and churches where people gathered for pleasure or at least for escape, and then overnight and simultaneously were seen no more; then eccentric: buggies gone, vanished—a lean, loose-jointed, cotton-socked, shrewd, ruthless old man, the splendid girl with her beautiful masklike face, the froglike creature which barely reached her shoulder, cashing a check, buying a license, taking a train—a word, a single will to believe born of envy and old deathless regret, murmured from cabin to cabin above the washing pots and the sewing, from wagon to horseman in roads and lanes or from rider to halted plow in field furrows; the word, the dream and wish of all male under sun capable of harm—the young who only dreamed yet of the ruins they were still incapable of; the sick and the maimed sweating in sleepless beds, impotent for the harm they willed to do; the old, now-glandless earth-creeping, the very buds and blossoms, the garlands of whose yellowed triumphs had long fallen into the profitless dust, embalmed now and no more dead to the living world if they were sealed in buried vaults, behind the impregnable matronly calico of others' grandchildren's grandmothers—the word, with its implications of lost triumphs and defeats of unimaginable splendor—and which best: to have that word, that dream and hope for future, or to have had need to flee that word and dream, for past.
Quote from: Spotted Horses on October 12, 2022, 09:18:11 PMHamlet is probably the most linear in it's story telling of the Snopes trilogy, but as you see, it's not schoolbook grammar. I find that these passages can be musical in a way, and it helps to read them out loud and listen to yourself.
Quote from: ultralinear on October 12, 2022, 12:29:56 PMThat's about 9 more pages than I've ever managed. I've tried his work a few times over the years, and I just don't get on with it at all, in fact I find it intensely irritating. Yet I love Proust, so it's not that I have a problem with dense pages of convoluted paragraph-long sentences obsessively examining every minute aspect of inconsequential trivia in microscopic detail. I think maybe the issue is that this kind of pointillist writing style puts you very much inside the consciousness of the writer, which in James's case I do not find a congenial place to be. I don't want to see the world through his eyes. For one thing, he comes across as the most frightful snob. But then so does Proust. So I guess I just plain don't like him, and leave it at that.
Quote from: Spotted Horses on October 12, 2022, 09:18:11 PMIt may be interesting to compare Hanry James' uncoiling sentences to Faulkner's. The obtuse sentence construction is something that came in James' late works and I remember reading somewhere that it was related to his switching from writing out his work on paper to dictating them.
Quote from: ultralinear on October 13, 2022, 02:05:09 AMHave you read Edith Wharton e.g. The Age of Innocence? I was put off her for years because of the James connection, wrongly supposing that meant their writing would be similar, and was astonished to discover (eventually) just how readable and appealing her work is - well crafted, with sharp observation and even a sense of humour.
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