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螚 蔚蟺喂位慰纬萎 蟿畏蟼 危蠈蠁喂
螣 危蟿委谓纬魏慰, 苇谓伪蟼 维纬慰蠀蟻慰蟼 蔚喂魏慰蟽维蠂蟻慰谓慰蟼 蟿慰蠀 伪渭蔚蟻喂魏伪谓喂魏慰蠉 螡蠈蟿慰蠀, 渭伪蟼 蟺畏纬伪委谓蔚喂 蟺委蟽蠅 蟽蟿慰 魏伪位慰魏伪委蟻喂 蟿慰蠀 1947, 蟽蟿畏谓 蟺伪谓蟽喂蠈谓 蔚谓蠈蟼 蠂位慰蔚蟻慰蠉 蟺蟻慰维蟽蟿喂慰蠀 蟿慰蠀 螠蟺蟻慰蠉魏位蠀谓. 螘魏蔚委 纬谓蠅蟻委味蔚喂 蟿慰谓 螡苇畏胃伪谓, 苇谓伪谓 蠁位慰纬蔚蟻蠈 螘尾蟻伪委慰 未喂伪谓慰慰蠉渭蔚谓慰, 魏伪喂 蟿畏 危蠈蠁喂, 蠈渭慰蟻蠁畏 魏伪喂 蔚蠉胃蟻伪蠀蟽蟿畏 螤慰位蠅谓萎 魏伪胃慰位喂魏萎. 螣 危蟿委谓纬魏慰 蟺伪蟻伪蟽蠉蟻蔚蟿伪喂 蟺蟻慰蟼 蟿伪 蔚谓未蠈蟿蔚蟻伪 蟿畏蟼 蟺伪胃喂伪蟽渭苇谓畏蟼 魏伪喂 慰位苇胃蟻喂伪蟼 蟽蠂苇蟽畏蟼 蟿慰蠀蟼 蔚谓 蔚委未蔚喂 渭维蟻蟿蠀蟻伪, 苇渭蟺喂蟽蟿慰蠀 蠁委位慰蠀 魏伪喂 喂魏苇蟿畏. 螘谓蟿苇位蔚喂, 慰未畏纬蔚委蟿伪喂 蟽蟿慰谓 蟽魏慰蟿蔚喂谓蠈 蟺蠀蟻萎谓伪 蟿慰蠀 蟺伪蟻蔚位胃蠈谓蟿慰蟼 蟿畏蟼 危蠈蠁喂: 蟽蟿喂蟼 伪谓伪渭谓萎蟽蔚喂蟼 伪蟺蠈 蟿畏谓 蟺蟻慰蟺慰位蔚渭喂魏萎 螤慰位蠅谓委伪, 蟿慰 蟽蟿蟻伪蟿蠈蟺蔚未慰 蟽蠀纬魏苇谓蟿蟻蠅蟽畏蟼 魏伪喂 - 蟽蟿畏谓 慰蠀蟽委伪 蟿慰蠀 蠁慰尾蔚蟻慰蠉 渭蠀蟽蟿喂魏慰蠉 蟿畏蟼 - 蟽蟿畏谓 蔚蟺喂位慰纬萎 蟿畏蟼.
"螠喂伪 蟽蟺位伪蠂谓喂魏萎 胃苇伪蟽畏 蟽蟿慰 蟺喂慰 渭蔚纬维位慰 魏伪魏蠈 蟿慰蠀 伪喂蠋谓伪 渭伪蟼."
(Daily Express)
"螣 William Styron 未喂蔚蟻蔚蠀谓蠋谓蟿伪蟼 蟿畏谓 蟿蟻伪纬喂魏萎 渭慰委蟻伪 渭喂伪蟼 纬蠀谓伪委魏伪蟼 蟽蟿畏谓 螘蟺喂位慰纬萎 蟿畏蟼 危蠈蠁喂 蟺蟻慰蟽蠁苇蟻蔚喂 渭喂伪 蟽蟺维谓喂伪 慰尉蠀未蔚蟻魏萎 渭伪蟿喂维 蟽蟿畏谓 蟿蟻伪纬喂魏萎 渭慰委蟻伪 蟿慰蠀 伪谓胃蟻蠋蟺慰蠀."
(The Times)
"螠蔚 蟿慰 蟺慰蠀 魏蠀魏位慰蠁蠈蟻畏蟽蔚 畏 螘蟺喂位慰纬萎 蟿畏蟼 危蠈蠁喂 蟽蟿喂蟼 螚螤螒 蟽蠉蟽蟽蠅渭畏 畏 魏蟻喂蟿喂魏萎 蠀蟺慰魏位委胃畏魏蔚 渭蟺蟻慰蟽蟿维 蟽蟿慰 蔚蟺委蟿蔚蠀纬渭伪 蟿慰蠀 危蟿维喂蟻慰谓 谓' 伪谓伪渭蔚蟿蟻畏胃蔚委 渭蔚 蟿畏谓 维尾蠀蟽蟽慰 蟿慰蠀 蔚蠀蟻蠅蟺伪蠆魏慰蠉 螣位慰魏伪蠀蟿蠋渭伪蟿慰蟼, 蟺蟻慰蟽蠁苇蟻慰谓蟿伪蟼 "渭喂伪 蟽蟺位伪蠂谓喂魏萎 胃苇伪蟽畏 蟽蟿慰 蟺喂慰 渭蔚纬维位慰 魏伪魏蠈 蟿慰蠀 20慰蠉 伪喂蠋谓伪." 螤位维胃慰谓蟿伪蟼 伪位畏蟽渭蠈谓畏蟿慰蠀蟼 蠂伪蟻伪魏蟿萎蟻蔚蟼, 魏蟻伪蟿蠋谓蟿伪蟼 伪渭蔚委蠅蟿慰 蟿慰 蔚谓未喂伪蠁苇蟻慰谓 蟿慰蠀 伪谓伪纬谓蠋蟽蟿畏 蠅蟼 蟿畏谓 蟿蔚位蔚蠀蟿伪委伪 蟽蔚位委未伪, 魏伪喂 渭蟺慰位喂维味慰谓蟿伪蟼 蔚蟺喂蟺位苇慰谓 蟿畏谓 伪蠁萎纬畏蟽畏 蟿慰蠀 渭蔚 蟿慰谓 伪蟺蠈畏蠂慰 蟿畏蟼 伪渭蔚蟻喂魏伪谓喂魏萎蟼 蔚渭蟺蔚喂蟻委伪蟼 蟿慰蠀 "魏伪魏慰蠉" - 蟿慰谓 蟻伪蟿蟽喂蟽渭蠈 伪蟺苇谓伪谓蟿喂 蟽蟿慰蠀蟼 渭伪蠉蟻慰蠀蟼, 蟺慰蠀 慰 委未喂慰蟼 蠅蟼 纬苇谓谓畏渭伪-胃蟻苇渭渭伪 蟿慰蠀 螡蠈蟿慰蠀 纬谓蠋蟻喂味蔚 魏伪位维 - 慰 螣蠀委位喂伪渭 危蟿维喂蟻慰谓 苇纬蟻伪蠄蔚 苇谓伪 渭蠀胃喂蟽蟿蠈蟻畏渭伪 蠈蟺慰蠀 未喂伪蟽蟿伪蠀蟻蠋谓慰谓蟿伪喂 蟿伪 蟺喂慰 伪谓蟿喂蠁伪蟿喂魏维 蟽蠀谓伪喂蟽胃萎渭伪蟿伪 魏伪喂 蟿慰 慰蟺慰委慰, 蠈谓蟿蠅蟼, 蟽慰蠀 魏慰渭渭伪蟿喂维味蔚喂 蟿畏谓 魏伪蟻未喂维.
(危蟿伪蠀蟻慰蠉位伪 螤伪蟺伪蟽蟺蠉蟻慰蠀, 螘位蔚蠀胃蔚蟻慰蟿蠀蟺委伪, 2005)
"螠喂伪 蟽蟺位伪蠂谓喂魏萎 胃苇伪蟽畏 蟽蟿慰 蟺喂慰 渭蔚纬维位慰 魏伪魏蠈 蟿慰蠀 伪喂蠋谓伪 渭伪蟼."
(Daily Express)
"螣 William Styron 未喂蔚蟻蔚蠀谓蠋谓蟿伪蟼 蟿畏谓 蟿蟻伪纬喂魏萎 渭慰委蟻伪 渭喂伪蟼 纬蠀谓伪委魏伪蟼 蟽蟿畏谓 螘蟺喂位慰纬萎 蟿畏蟼 危蠈蠁喂 蟺蟻慰蟽蠁苇蟻蔚喂 渭喂伪 蟽蟺维谓喂伪 慰尉蠀未蔚蟻魏萎 渭伪蟿喂维 蟽蟿畏谓 蟿蟻伪纬喂魏萎 渭慰委蟻伪 蟿慰蠀 伪谓胃蟻蠋蟺慰蠀."
(The Times)
"螠蔚 蟿慰 蟺慰蠀 魏蠀魏位慰蠁蠈蟻畏蟽蔚 畏 螘蟺喂位慰纬萎 蟿畏蟼 危蠈蠁喂 蟽蟿喂蟼 螚螤螒 蟽蠉蟽蟽蠅渭畏 畏 魏蟻喂蟿喂魏萎 蠀蟺慰魏位委胃畏魏蔚 渭蟺蟻慰蟽蟿维 蟽蟿慰 蔚蟺委蟿蔚蠀纬渭伪 蟿慰蠀 危蟿维喂蟻慰谓 谓' 伪谓伪渭蔚蟿蟻畏胃蔚委 渭蔚 蟿畏谓 维尾蠀蟽蟽慰 蟿慰蠀 蔚蠀蟻蠅蟺伪蠆魏慰蠉 螣位慰魏伪蠀蟿蠋渭伪蟿慰蟼, 蟺蟻慰蟽蠁苇蟻慰谓蟿伪蟼 "渭喂伪 蟽蟺位伪蠂谓喂魏萎 胃苇伪蟽畏 蟽蟿慰 蟺喂慰 渭蔚纬维位慰 魏伪魏蠈 蟿慰蠀 20慰蠉 伪喂蠋谓伪." 螤位维胃慰谓蟿伪蟼 伪位畏蟽渭蠈谓畏蟿慰蠀蟼 蠂伪蟻伪魏蟿萎蟻蔚蟼, 魏蟻伪蟿蠋谓蟿伪蟼 伪渭蔚委蠅蟿慰 蟿慰 蔚谓未喂伪蠁苇蟻慰谓 蟿慰蠀 伪谓伪纬谓蠋蟽蟿畏 蠅蟼 蟿畏谓 蟿蔚位蔚蠀蟿伪委伪 蟽蔚位委未伪, 魏伪喂 渭蟺慰位喂维味慰谓蟿伪蟼 蔚蟺喂蟺位苇慰谓 蟿畏谓 伪蠁萎纬畏蟽畏 蟿慰蠀 渭蔚 蟿慰谓 伪蟺蠈畏蠂慰 蟿畏蟼 伪渭蔚蟻喂魏伪谓喂魏萎蟼 蔚渭蟺蔚喂蟻委伪蟼 蟿慰蠀 "魏伪魏慰蠉" - 蟿慰谓 蟻伪蟿蟽喂蟽渭蠈 伪蟺苇谓伪谓蟿喂 蟽蟿慰蠀蟼 渭伪蠉蟻慰蠀蟼, 蟺慰蠀 慰 委未喂慰蟼 蠅蟼 纬苇谓谓畏渭伪-胃蟻苇渭渭伪 蟿慰蠀 螡蠈蟿慰蠀 纬谓蠋蟻喂味蔚 魏伪位维 - 慰 螣蠀委位喂伪渭 危蟿维喂蟻慰谓 苇纬蟻伪蠄蔚 苇谓伪 渭蠀胃喂蟽蟿蠈蟻畏渭伪 蠈蟺慰蠀 未喂伪蟽蟿伪蠀蟻蠋谓慰谓蟿伪喂 蟿伪 蟺喂慰 伪谓蟿喂蠁伪蟿喂魏维 蟽蠀谓伪喂蟽胃萎渭伪蟿伪 魏伪喂 蟿慰 慰蟺慰委慰, 蠈谓蟿蠅蟼, 蟽慰蠀 魏慰渭渭伪蟿喂维味蔚喂 蟿畏谓 魏伪蟻未喂维.
(危蟿伪蠀蟻慰蠉位伪 螤伪蟺伪蟽蟺蠉蟻慰蠀, 螘位蔚蠀胃蔚蟻慰蟿蠀蟺委伪, 2005)
650 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1979
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113124 people want to read
About the author
William Styron
117听books876听followersWilliam Styron (1925鈥�2006), born in Newport News, Virginia, was one of the greatest American writers of his generation. Styron published his first book, Lie Down in Darkness, at age twenty-six and went on to write such influential works as the controversial and Pulitzer Prize鈥搘inning The Confessions of Nat Turner and the international bestseller Sophie鈥檚 Choice.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 3,215 reviews
November 21, 2023
The world seems to be made of triangles鈥� Of love triangles鈥� And the narrator is an apex of one of such triangles鈥�
There is truth and there are lies 鈥� and we walk the tortuous paths of our lives in between.
So it is with Sophie鈥檚 Choice 鈥� there is truth and there are lies.
And to get to the truth one must peel off so many layers of lies.
Life isn鈥檛 a straight line one can move along without asking questions 鈥� one must choose at the crossroads and discern bitter truths behind the ostensibly shining excellence.
There is truth and there are lies 鈥� and we walk the tortuous paths of our lives in between.
Perhaps I should say she indulged in certain evasions which at the time were necessary in order for her to retain her composure. Or maybe her sanity. I certainly don鈥檛 accuse her, for from the point of view of hindsight her untruths seem fathomable beyond need of apology.
So it is with Sophie鈥檚 Choice 鈥� there is truth and there are lies.
And to get to the truth one must peel off so many layers of lies.
This was not judgment day 鈥� only morning. Morning: excellent and fair.
Life isn鈥檛 a straight line one can move along without asking questions 鈥� one must choose at the crossroads and discern bitter truths behind the ostensibly shining excellence.
April 1, 2008
It seems a lot of people have a problem with the prose being pretentious and overwritten. However, I had a big problem with the unfolding of the plot. This was a strange book for me because I really wanted to like it and even thought I liked it after I was finished. It took me about a week to think back and realize, Wait! That was a crappy book.
Problem number 1: I personally found Sophie to be an unbeleivable character. I just thought she was not-fascinating and contradictory, like, not in the way people are in real life. I'll spare you the tedium of elaborating. You can take my word for it or not but the worst is yet to come.
Personally, I found Nathan to be a very realistic, frightening character. I know people like him in real life.
But, Problem number 2: Styron tells this story from the first-person perspective of someone who has already gathered all the information, heard everyone's side of the story and studied World War Two. In other words, he seems to be telling the story in the wrong form. There are a lot of flashbacks and "Sophie's Choice" isn't revealed to us until the rest of the present-time turmoil is underway as well. As a reader, I've never felt more manipulated. The narrator, Stingo, reveals stuff little by little but only in a way that is sure to make everything more meladramatic and painful. It seems done not to prove a point but to give the book some tragic affect though it comes off beyond contrived.
Not only did I feel manipulated, but I just didn't seem realistic how much information Stingo knew about Sophie, no matter how close they were. I'm not just talking about personal information, because we all have friends who tell us personal things but he tells parts of Sophie's story as though he were inside her head. It just felt like a huge narrative mistake ... more something to be expected of a book with an unreliable narrator, though we're supposed to put our full trust and faith in this narrator.
Problem 3: It feels like Styron was trying to make a book that studied too many subjects at once. It's okay to tackle multiple subjects, but he doesn't handle any of them. He's trying to study psychosis and addiction, death, life, war, peace, prison camps, nazi mentality, anti-semitism, growing up, sexuality, sexuality, more sexuality wrapped into every other subject until it doesn't make any coherent sense anymore.
I only decided to read this after Lie Down in Darkness which is infinitely better. I'm surprised that this is considered a great American novel and would never recommend it.
Problem number 1: I personally found Sophie to be an unbeleivable character. I just thought she was not-fascinating and contradictory, like, not in the way people are in real life. I'll spare you the tedium of elaborating. You can take my word for it or not but the worst is yet to come.
Personally, I found Nathan to be a very realistic, frightening character. I know people like him in real life.
But, Problem number 2: Styron tells this story from the first-person perspective of someone who has already gathered all the information, heard everyone's side of the story and studied World War Two. In other words, he seems to be telling the story in the wrong form. There are a lot of flashbacks and "Sophie's Choice" isn't revealed to us until the rest of the present-time turmoil is underway as well. As a reader, I've never felt more manipulated. The narrator, Stingo, reveals stuff little by little but only in a way that is sure to make everything more meladramatic and painful. It seems done not to prove a point but to give the book some tragic affect though it comes off beyond contrived.
Not only did I feel manipulated, but I just didn't seem realistic how much information Stingo knew about Sophie, no matter how close they were. I'm not just talking about personal information, because we all have friends who tell us personal things but he tells parts of Sophie's story as though he were inside her head. It just felt like a huge narrative mistake ... more something to be expected of a book with an unreliable narrator, though we're supposed to put our full trust and faith in this narrator.
Problem 3: It feels like Styron was trying to make a book that studied too many subjects at once. It's okay to tackle multiple subjects, but he doesn't handle any of them. He's trying to study psychosis and addiction, death, life, war, peace, prison camps, nazi mentality, anti-semitism, growing up, sexuality, sexuality, more sexuality wrapped into every other subject until it doesn't make any coherent sense anymore.
I only decided to read this after Lie Down in Darkness which is infinitely better. I'm surprised that this is considered a great American novel and would never recommend it.
June 28, 2018
We are like lutes once held by God.
Being away from His warm body
fully explains our constant yearning.
--Hafiz
I started Sophie's Choice in a busy hotel lobby, awaiting my visiting sister's arrival, having no idea I was going to be immediately introduced to a 22-year-old Southerner named Stingo and the first of his many erections.
His erections? What?
I went into this read almost 鈥渂lind,鈥� knowing only that the author, William Styron, received the Pulitzer for fiction in 1968 for The Confessions of Nat Turner and that this novel, Sophie's Choice (published in 1979) would attract more attention as a movie than a book. Most of us would come to think of Meryl Streep as Sophie whether we saw the film or not. (I didn't).
So, back to the busy lobby, where I'm sweating out the first of Stingo's erections and looking around the room, wondering if anyone has any idea what I'm reading (they didn't), and even though I was tickled beyond belief to find humor and sexuality in a book that I thought took place in Poland during the Holocaust, I was also totally confused.
Wait, this is funny? (So funny!)
This is sexy? (Oh, SO sexy!)
But, I thought this was about Meryl Streep (er, I mean Sophie Zawistowska) and her making some awful choice during the Holocaust?!
Yes, it's about that, too, but it's also about Stingo, the 22-year-old virgin in 1947 who just CAN'T GET LAID.
Poor Stingo. Before I knew it, I was on every date with him, from the pious Christian virgins to the overanalyzed Jewish cock teases (his words), with him for every deplorable hand job and every salivating moment when he wondered. . . will it happen tonight??
By the time the voluptuous, highly sexualized Sophie enters his life. . . you can't help but think. . . Oh, it's her, it's got to be her!
And while you're spending most of your time wondering if Stingo is FINALLY going to get lucky with Sophie, you then meet Sophie's beau, Nathan Landau, and, even though Nathan 鈥渨as utterly, fatally glamorous,鈥� you realize that he's in the way of Stingo's sexual dreams, which puts him in the way of the plot. . . but, wait. . . what is the plot anyway?
What starts to unravel, ever so cleverly, ever so smoothly, is that Stingo losing his virginity is NOT the plot.
And, man, can Mr. Styron reveal a big picture.
Turns out that Mr. Styron is using sex as a metaphor; that all of our yearning for physical intimacy represents our bigger desire to be One, and yet the irony is. . . our excessive procreation then creates a crowded planet that disrupts us and divides us and causes things like genocide and war.
Groan.
We are so complicated, we humans. We walk through most of our days and nights dazed and confused, barely conscious of what we are or our true potential.
As Sophie says to Stingo, as they are standing on a beach, observing a small crowd, 鈥淭hose strange creepy people, all picking at their little. . . scabs.鈥�
Yes, scabs. Most of what we pick at are scabs.
But, this book, this writer, does a tremendous job of showing his reader so much, and so much more than scabs. He held on to the complicated reins of these plot lines like a master, and even though this is a long and sometimes heavy book, he always found a way to perk me back up with some cookies and juice.
The 鈥渃ookies and juice鈥� in this story were the sex scenes, and the novel concludes with one of the most decadent, well-written scenes between a man and a woman that I've ever encountered. I actually had to ask my children to please leave the room and then I had to hover above the air-conditioner vent for a few minutes (I'm not kidding). Holy, holy.
But, folks, a lot of bad shit happens here on this planet, and we can do a lot worse to each other than participate in consensual sex between adults. Some might even argue that it's a gift, given to us by God.
And you beside me, bless猫d now while sirens sing to us, stealthily weave us into day. . .
And, in case it isn't clear. . . I loved this beautiful book.
Being away from His warm body
fully explains our constant yearning.
--Hafiz
I started Sophie's Choice in a busy hotel lobby, awaiting my visiting sister's arrival, having no idea I was going to be immediately introduced to a 22-year-old Southerner named Stingo and the first of his many erections.
His erections? What?
I went into this read almost 鈥渂lind,鈥� knowing only that the author, William Styron, received the Pulitzer for fiction in 1968 for The Confessions of Nat Turner and that this novel, Sophie's Choice (published in 1979) would attract more attention as a movie than a book. Most of us would come to think of Meryl Streep as Sophie whether we saw the film or not. (I didn't).
So, back to the busy lobby, where I'm sweating out the first of Stingo's erections and looking around the room, wondering if anyone has any idea what I'm reading (they didn't), and even though I was tickled beyond belief to find humor and sexuality in a book that I thought took place in Poland during the Holocaust, I was also totally confused.
Wait, this is funny? (So funny!)
This is sexy? (Oh, SO sexy!)
But, I thought this was about Meryl Streep (er, I mean Sophie Zawistowska) and her making some awful choice during the Holocaust?!
Yes, it's about that, too, but it's also about Stingo, the 22-year-old virgin in 1947 who just CAN'T GET LAID.
Poor Stingo. Before I knew it, I was on every date with him, from the pious Christian virgins to the overanalyzed Jewish cock teases (his words), with him for every deplorable hand job and every salivating moment when he wondered. . . will it happen tonight??
By the time the voluptuous, highly sexualized Sophie enters his life. . . you can't help but think. . . Oh, it's her, it's got to be her!
And while you're spending most of your time wondering if Stingo is FINALLY going to get lucky with Sophie, you then meet Sophie's beau, Nathan Landau, and, even though Nathan 鈥渨as utterly, fatally glamorous,鈥� you realize that he's in the way of Stingo's sexual dreams, which puts him in the way of the plot. . . but, wait. . . what is the plot anyway?
What starts to unravel, ever so cleverly, ever so smoothly, is that Stingo losing his virginity is NOT the plot.
And, man, can Mr. Styron reveal a big picture.
Turns out that Mr. Styron is using sex as a metaphor; that all of our yearning for physical intimacy represents our bigger desire to be One, and yet the irony is. . . our excessive procreation then creates a crowded planet that disrupts us and divides us and causes things like genocide and war.
Groan.
We are so complicated, we humans. We walk through most of our days and nights dazed and confused, barely conscious of what we are or our true potential.
As Sophie says to Stingo, as they are standing on a beach, observing a small crowd, 鈥淭hose strange creepy people, all picking at their little. . . scabs.鈥�
Yes, scabs. Most of what we pick at are scabs.
But, this book, this writer, does a tremendous job of showing his reader so much, and so much more than scabs. He held on to the complicated reins of these plot lines like a master, and even though this is a long and sometimes heavy book, he always found a way to perk me back up with some cookies and juice.
The 鈥渃ookies and juice鈥� in this story were the sex scenes, and the novel concludes with one of the most decadent, well-written scenes between a man and a woman that I've ever encountered. I actually had to ask my children to please leave the room and then I had to hover above the air-conditioner vent for a few minutes (I'm not kidding). Holy, holy.
But, folks, a lot of bad shit happens here on this planet, and we can do a lot worse to each other than participate in consensual sex between adults. Some might even argue that it's a gift, given to us by God.
And you beside me, bless猫d now while sirens sing to us, stealthily weave us into day. . .
And, in case it isn't clear. . . I loved this beautiful book.
October 24, 2019
鈥滿ercifully, I was at the age when reading was still a passion and thus, save for a happy marriage, the best state possible in which to keep absolute loneliness at bay. I could not have made it through those evenings otherwise. But I was an abandoned reader and, besides, outlandishly eclectic, with an affinity for the written word--almost any written word--that was so excitable that it verged on the erotic. I mean this literally, and were it not for the fact that I have compared notes with a few others who have confessed to sharing with me in their youth this particular sensibility, I know I would now be risking scorn or incredulity by stating that I can recall the time when the prospect of half an hour鈥檚 dalliance with a Classified Telephone Directory caused me a slight but nonetheless noticeable tumescence.鈥�
The young William Styron.
The prospect for me of parting the pages of a new book produces a similar feeling to parting the warm thighs of a new lover. The anticipation and thrill of the beginning of a new adventure, whether it is swimming through the pages of a book or wrestling between the silk sheets of a bed, should produce the same tingles and let loose the same sparks of grand passion. Reading is a love affair.
If you don鈥檛 feel this way, I鈥檓 sorry. I鈥檒l offer you the same advice that I offered a married woman who once confessed to me that she didn鈥檛 enjoy sex. My reply was...are you sure you are doing it right? Maybe too many of you are picking the wrong lovers, or maybe you don鈥檛 have the proper reading resume to make the connections that produce grand passion, or maybe your mind is too closed off and you need to let it roam free.
Do keep trying.
This is a novel of lust and tragedy. At several points in the narrative, there is a merging together of the tragedy of unfulfilled wishes tinged by memories that can鈥檛 stay forgotten. This is really two novels, twinned together as the past intersects with the present. One part is of the trials and tribulations of Sophie Zawistowska, a Polish citizen who becomes the guest of the Nazis at Auschwitz-Birkenau during World War Two, and the other part is of the struggles of a young Southern writer in Brooklyn, New York, who is attempting to write the great American novel.
Stingo first meets Sophie and her lover Nathan Landau while boarding at The Pink Palace. He doesn鈥檛 so much meet them as hear them. They are in the room above him fornicating like amphetamine drugged rabbits. There is nothing more excruciating to a person suffering from inflamed, unmitigated passion than to be forced to eavesdrop on the lustful consummations of the successful sexual conquests of others. When one is in this state, it is easy to give in to brooding self-pity and start believing that everyone in the world is getting laid except for him. Stingo is twenty-two and not only suffering from excessive horniess but also suffering from a malady that most men, especially, wish to rid themselves of as soon as possible...virginity.
His yearning to breach the defenses of a woman鈥檚 virtue and finally end his involuntary celibacy is an all consuming desire that is even starting to adversely affect his ability to produce his masterpiece. 鈥滻 still yearned passionately to produce the novel which had been for so long captive in my brain. It was only that, having written down the first few fine paragraphs, I could not produce any others, or--to approximate Gertrude Stein鈥檚 remark about a lesser writer of the Lost Generation--I had the syrup but it wouldn鈥檛 pour.鈥� Yes, Stingo has sap issues, if you know what I mean.
William Styron infuses autobiography into this book under the guise of fiction. It is almost impossible for me to separate the young Styron from the sexually frustrated Stingo. Styron was a master at describing lust, verging on purple prose at times, but yet managing to capture in lush detail the true nature of hormonal driven desire. Here he describes Stingo noticing the rather innocent ramblings of his neighbor that inspired such wonderful flights of salacious yearning.
鈥滱lone for an instant, blond Mavis Hunnicutt would appear in the garden, dressed in a blouse and tight flowered slacks; after pausing for a peek up at the opalescent evening sky, she would give an odd and bewitching toss of her lovely hair and then bend down to pluck tulips from the flowerbed. In this adorable stance, she could not know what she did to the loneliest junior editor in New York. My lust was incredible--something prehensile, a groping snout of desire, slithering down the begrimed walls of the wretched old building, uncoiling itself across a fence, moving with haste serpentine and indecent to a point just short of her upturned rump, where in silent metamorphosis it blazingly flowered into the embodiment of myself, priapic, ravenous, yet under hair-trigger control.鈥�
Stingo might be a bit optimistic about the prospect of possessing any control if his fantasy, by some miracle, had ever manifested itself into reality. Chances are he would have been slinking back to his room with his tail between his legs, elated at finally successfully having sex, but burning with shame that he had failed to put in a good showing. In fact, he may have been left at the starting gate, having shot his wad before the starter鈥檚 pistol could even fire. Elation and shame, after all, are frequent companions during the early days of male sexual experience.
He becomes best friends with Nathan and Sophie and soon finds himself caught up in their passionate affair. Their arguments prove as epic as their bouts of sexual passions. Stingo soon finds himself riding their emotional rollercoaster of cloud dwelling amorousness followed by dark, abhorrent, abusive quarrels that leave him shaken to the core of his belief in their enduring relationship.
Stingo, like most of us, really does want the beautiful love story.
Of course, riding side saddle during his Nick Carraway observations of Sophie and Nathan is his enduring love/lust for Sophie. She is lovely, not only in appearance, but in character. She is the type of woman for whom, if we are lucky enough to know her, most of us, male and female, would harbor our own infatuation. And then there is this constant, visible testament to her past: 鈥滱nd once again I was conscious of that pitiless blue toothbite of a tattoo on her forearm.鈥�
During the many times that Nathan and Sophie are split up, Stingo gets exclusive time with Sophie, listening to her pour out her frustrations and fears that her love for Nathan will end in tragedy, but she also shares with Stingo the horrid story of her time incarcerated by the Nazis. The things she is asked to do. The decisions she is forced to make are beyond what any human should ever have to do. Hearing the story of her past adds poignancy in his desire for her. It evokes in Stingo the longing to give her a safe, happy life that will make up for the life that war took from her.
William Styron/Stingo has written a masterpiece. The honesty and humor about Stingo鈥檚 galloping sexual desire coupled with the tragedies of Sophie鈥檚 life take the reader up and down the emotional scale with laughter one moment followed by the brimming of tears. We experience Stingo鈥檚 inept, humorous conquests as he searches for a woman liberated enough to allow him 鈥漷o taste in a calm, exploratory way those varieties of bodily experience which until now had existed in my head like a vast and orgiastic, incessantly thumbed encyclopedia of lust.鈥� Stingo also constantly suffers from his disloyal desire for Sophie while also hoping that somehow she and Nathan will figure out a way to be together. Mental health is explored in detail as well, a subject close and dear to Styron as he struggled his whole life from dark depressions.
The older William Styron.
This book is unforgettable. I have a feeling I will be able to recall scenes in vivid technicolor from this novel for the rest of my life. How can I ever forget Stingo, Sophie, and Nathan? Their lives have become so much a part of my life I can almost swear that I have moved into The Pink Palace for a time and listened to their Olympian bouts of lovemaking, punctuated with the thumping of the headboard and the susurrus of the bedsprings, by the groans of Stingo鈥檚 growing frustrations.
If you wish to see more of my most recent book and movie reviews, visit
I also have a Facebook blogger page at:
The young William Styron.
The prospect for me of parting the pages of a new book produces a similar feeling to parting the warm thighs of a new lover. The anticipation and thrill of the beginning of a new adventure, whether it is swimming through the pages of a book or wrestling between the silk sheets of a bed, should produce the same tingles and let loose the same sparks of grand passion. Reading is a love affair.
If you don鈥檛 feel this way, I鈥檓 sorry. I鈥檒l offer you the same advice that I offered a married woman who once confessed to me that she didn鈥檛 enjoy sex. My reply was...are you sure you are doing it right? Maybe too many of you are picking the wrong lovers, or maybe you don鈥檛 have the proper reading resume to make the connections that produce grand passion, or maybe your mind is too closed off and you need to let it roam free.
Do keep trying.
This is a novel of lust and tragedy. At several points in the narrative, there is a merging together of the tragedy of unfulfilled wishes tinged by memories that can鈥檛 stay forgotten. This is really two novels, twinned together as the past intersects with the present. One part is of the trials and tribulations of Sophie Zawistowska, a Polish citizen who becomes the guest of the Nazis at Auschwitz-Birkenau during World War Two, and the other part is of the struggles of a young Southern writer in Brooklyn, New York, who is attempting to write the great American novel.
Stingo first meets Sophie and her lover Nathan Landau while boarding at The Pink Palace. He doesn鈥檛 so much meet them as hear them. They are in the room above him fornicating like amphetamine drugged rabbits. There is nothing more excruciating to a person suffering from inflamed, unmitigated passion than to be forced to eavesdrop on the lustful consummations of the successful sexual conquests of others. When one is in this state, it is easy to give in to brooding self-pity and start believing that everyone in the world is getting laid except for him. Stingo is twenty-two and not only suffering from excessive horniess but also suffering from a malady that most men, especially, wish to rid themselves of as soon as possible...virginity.
His yearning to breach the defenses of a woman鈥檚 virtue and finally end his involuntary celibacy is an all consuming desire that is even starting to adversely affect his ability to produce his masterpiece. 鈥滻 still yearned passionately to produce the novel which had been for so long captive in my brain. It was only that, having written down the first few fine paragraphs, I could not produce any others, or--to approximate Gertrude Stein鈥檚 remark about a lesser writer of the Lost Generation--I had the syrup but it wouldn鈥檛 pour.鈥� Yes, Stingo has sap issues, if you know what I mean.
William Styron infuses autobiography into this book under the guise of fiction. It is almost impossible for me to separate the young Styron from the sexually frustrated Stingo. Styron was a master at describing lust, verging on purple prose at times, but yet managing to capture in lush detail the true nature of hormonal driven desire. Here he describes Stingo noticing the rather innocent ramblings of his neighbor that inspired such wonderful flights of salacious yearning.
鈥滱lone for an instant, blond Mavis Hunnicutt would appear in the garden, dressed in a blouse and tight flowered slacks; after pausing for a peek up at the opalescent evening sky, she would give an odd and bewitching toss of her lovely hair and then bend down to pluck tulips from the flowerbed. In this adorable stance, she could not know what she did to the loneliest junior editor in New York. My lust was incredible--something prehensile, a groping snout of desire, slithering down the begrimed walls of the wretched old building, uncoiling itself across a fence, moving with haste serpentine and indecent to a point just short of her upturned rump, where in silent metamorphosis it blazingly flowered into the embodiment of myself, priapic, ravenous, yet under hair-trigger control.鈥�
Stingo might be a bit optimistic about the prospect of possessing any control if his fantasy, by some miracle, had ever manifested itself into reality. Chances are he would have been slinking back to his room with his tail between his legs, elated at finally successfully having sex, but burning with shame that he had failed to put in a good showing. In fact, he may have been left at the starting gate, having shot his wad before the starter鈥檚 pistol could even fire. Elation and shame, after all, are frequent companions during the early days of male sexual experience.
He becomes best friends with Nathan and Sophie and soon finds himself caught up in their passionate affair. Their arguments prove as epic as their bouts of sexual passions. Stingo soon finds himself riding their emotional rollercoaster of cloud dwelling amorousness followed by dark, abhorrent, abusive quarrels that leave him shaken to the core of his belief in their enduring relationship.
Stingo, like most of us, really does want the beautiful love story.
Of course, riding side saddle during his Nick Carraway observations of Sophie and Nathan is his enduring love/lust for Sophie. She is lovely, not only in appearance, but in character. She is the type of woman for whom, if we are lucky enough to know her, most of us, male and female, would harbor our own infatuation. And then there is this constant, visible testament to her past: 鈥滱nd once again I was conscious of that pitiless blue toothbite of a tattoo on her forearm.鈥�
During the many times that Nathan and Sophie are split up, Stingo gets exclusive time with Sophie, listening to her pour out her frustrations and fears that her love for Nathan will end in tragedy, but she also shares with Stingo the horrid story of her time incarcerated by the Nazis. The things she is asked to do. The decisions she is forced to make are beyond what any human should ever have to do. Hearing the story of her past adds poignancy in his desire for her. It evokes in Stingo the longing to give her a safe, happy life that will make up for the life that war took from her.
William Styron/Stingo has written a masterpiece. The honesty and humor about Stingo鈥檚 galloping sexual desire coupled with the tragedies of Sophie鈥檚 life take the reader up and down the emotional scale with laughter one moment followed by the brimming of tears. We experience Stingo鈥檚 inept, humorous conquests as he searches for a woman liberated enough to allow him 鈥漷o taste in a calm, exploratory way those varieties of bodily experience which until now had existed in my head like a vast and orgiastic, incessantly thumbed encyclopedia of lust.鈥� Stingo also constantly suffers from his disloyal desire for Sophie while also hoping that somehow she and Nathan will figure out a way to be together. Mental health is explored in detail as well, a subject close and dear to Styron as he struggled his whole life from dark depressions.
The older William Styron.
This book is unforgettable. I have a feeling I will be able to recall scenes in vivid technicolor from this novel for the rest of my life. How can I ever forget Stingo, Sophie, and Nathan? Their lives have become so much a part of my life I can almost swear that I have moved into The Pink Palace for a time and listened to their Olympian bouts of lovemaking, punctuated with the thumping of the headboard and the susurrus of the bedsprings, by the groans of Stingo鈥檚 growing frustrations.
If you wish to see more of my most recent book and movie reviews, visit
I also have a Facebook blogger page at:
June 9, 2021
I should probably begin by stating that my copy of has taken up residence under my stairs, in a plastic box, next to where all of the other dire books I have been unfortunate enough to read, are currently residing too, until I am able to donate them to the book farm, or anywhere apart from under my roof.
This book took me way too long to read than I'm happy with, and the sole reason for that is;
It was a terrible book.
I had been aching to get to this book, and after reading the intriguing premise (I usually enjoy Holocaust themed writing) I was expecting to experience a vast array of overwhelming emotions. But, of course, there wasn't a vast array of emotions at all. There was only one, and that was of anger.
The theme of The Holocaust was handled pathetically in this book. There was flowery, irritating writing without an ounce of feeling, and this caused me to feel nothing for the Holocaust survivor, Sophie. She was a character that I grew to dislike more as the story went on, and I blame that on the choice of narrative.
Styron can write, certainly, but he has the most irritating prose that I have ever experienced. Instead of writing about something that took place in simple, but effective terms, he has to do one better, and stick a goddamn bow on it. Sometimes I can allow for that, but as the plot was weak already, the writing style only added to my vexation.
Stingo, our mid-twenties narrator, is a writer, and enjoys spending his days moping around his work, thinking about sex, thinking about his constant erection( masturbating at the same time) and then, when he meets Sophie, a Holocaust survivor, all he is able to think about is taking her to his bed. I can tell you fellow readers, I know more about Stingo's lonely penis, than I do about The Holocaust.
What this lacked, was another POV. Why couldn't we hear things from Sophie's perspective? After all, she is the main character of this story, is she not? When Stingo finally discovers the evils that Sophie was subjected to at the concentration camps, he vows he will make her story known to the world, but he's that dizzy with lust and the wanting of getting her into bed, causes that to never happen.
There are many themes in this book, including The Holocaust and mental health, but they are just not explored or elaborated on. They pop up, and then they just pass through the characters and the plot, like ships in the night, and instead we are treated to a description of Stingo and his raging erection once again.
The book also angers me, because I feel like Sophie wasn't given a voice. When she told Stingo about her life, I felt like she wasn't allowed to speak without him interrupting her, or telling her she knows exactly how she feels. How the hell can he possibly know that? It made me feel like Sophie was just a prop in order for Styron to get his personal opinions on paper.
It is a real shame that this book was written in such a strange, and detached way, and if more work was put into Sophie, and by that I mean actually allowing her to be a character, this may have turned out quite differently.
This book took me way too long to read than I'm happy with, and the sole reason for that is;
It was a terrible book.
I had been aching to get to this book, and after reading the intriguing premise (I usually enjoy Holocaust themed writing) I was expecting to experience a vast array of overwhelming emotions. But, of course, there wasn't a vast array of emotions at all. There was only one, and that was of anger.
The theme of The Holocaust was handled pathetically in this book. There was flowery, irritating writing without an ounce of feeling, and this caused me to feel nothing for the Holocaust survivor, Sophie. She was a character that I grew to dislike more as the story went on, and I blame that on the choice of narrative.
Styron can write, certainly, but he has the most irritating prose that I have ever experienced. Instead of writing about something that took place in simple, but effective terms, he has to do one better, and stick a goddamn bow on it. Sometimes I can allow for that, but as the plot was weak already, the writing style only added to my vexation.
Stingo, our mid-twenties narrator, is a writer, and enjoys spending his days moping around his work, thinking about sex, thinking about his constant erection( masturbating at the same time) and then, when he meets Sophie, a Holocaust survivor, all he is able to think about is taking her to his bed. I can tell you fellow readers, I know more about Stingo's lonely penis, than I do about The Holocaust.
What this lacked, was another POV. Why couldn't we hear things from Sophie's perspective? After all, she is the main character of this story, is she not? When Stingo finally discovers the evils that Sophie was subjected to at the concentration camps, he vows he will make her story known to the world, but he's that dizzy with lust and the wanting of getting her into bed, causes that to never happen.
There are many themes in this book, including The Holocaust and mental health, but they are just not explored or elaborated on. They pop up, and then they just pass through the characters and the plot, like ships in the night, and instead we are treated to a description of Stingo and his raging erection once again.
The book also angers me, because I feel like Sophie wasn't given a voice. When she told Stingo about her life, I felt like she wasn't allowed to speak without him interrupting her, or telling her she knows exactly how she feels. How the hell can he possibly know that? It made me feel like Sophie was just a prop in order for Styron to get his personal opinions on paper.
It is a real shame that this book was written in such a strange, and detached way, and if more work was put into Sophie, and by that I mean actually allowing her to be a character, this may have turned out quite differently.
July 19, 2020
鈥淭he landscape and the living figures of that summer, as in some umber-smeared snapshot found in the brittle black pages of an old album, had become more dusty and indistinct as time for me unspooled with negligent haste into my own middle age, yet that summer鈥檚 agony still cried out for explanation.鈥�
Humor, Brooklyn, mental illness, eroticism, and the Holocaust. Sounds like an unlikely concoction for a novel, doesn鈥檛 it? This was totally unexpected! The only knowledge I had going into this is that it was a wildly popular film about World War II starring Meryl Streep, and that it would involve some troubling 鈥榗hoice鈥� of some sort. What I walked away from was a deeply moving, brilliantly written, sometimes overblown, story about three people whose lives converge during the summer of 1947.
鈥淚 was fated to get ensnared, like some hapless June bug, in the incredible spider鈥檚 nest of emotions that made up the relation between Sophie and Nathan鈥︹€�
In one way, this is a coming of age novel. Stingo is a twenty-two year old aspiring writer who has moved to Brooklyn after being dismissed from McGraw-Hill. He is plagued by the stigma of male virginity as well as a wicked case of persistent tumescence. The decision to narrate this story from Stingo鈥檚 point of view at first both puzzled and intrigued me. I expected this to be from Sophie鈥檚 perspective or from some omniscient narrator. It didn鈥檛 take long for me to grab onto Stingo and go along for the ride with him. When Stingo moves into The Pink Palace, a rooming house in a primarily Jewish neighborhood, he is a bit out of his element. However, it鈥檚 not long before he鈥檚 wholly caught up in the sexually charged atmosphere of two of his fellow boarders, the bright but volatile Nathan Landau, and the beautiful and tragic Sophie Zawistowski.
"鈥� I encountered Sophie in the flesh for the first time and fell, if not instantaneously, then swiftly and fathomlessly in love with her. It was a love which, as time wore on that summer, I realized had many reasons for laying claim to my existence.鈥�
What I loved best about this novel were the moments we spent with Stingo, Nathan and Sophie in the here and now. There is something very satisfying to me as a reader about a magnetic story of unrequited love, a passionate love affair, a genuine friendship, and compelling dialogue. This is what I found between this trio. As Sophie becomes comfortable in Stingo鈥檚 company, she unveils another strand of the plot. We hear about her past as she relates it to him. Of course, like many narratives, we, like Stingo, don鈥檛 get the whole truth at once. Her time spent in Auschwitz is revealed to us, but on her own terms. It鈥檚 a painful story and one that will not be fully confessed until you reach the finish line.
鈥溾€� it is now clear to me that a hideous sense of guilt always chiefly governed the reassessments she was forced to make of her past. I also came to see that she tended to view her own recent history through a filter of self-loathing鈥攁pparently not a rare phenomenon among those who had undergone her particular ordeal.鈥�
The plot alternates then between the present day and a series of flashbacks. While important and necessary to Sophie鈥檚 story and her frame of mind, I found the flashbacks to be less compelling than the whole. They were drawn out to the point I felt taken out of the story and had to set it aside and read something else. It鈥檚 not often I can say that about Holocaust fiction. I wish these sections had been edited a bit more; I suspect the impact would have been even greater. Furthermore, I couldn鈥檛 put my finger on it at first, but what I came to realize by the end was that I felt slightly manipulated by the author. I know this is likely an unpopular opinion, but I started to recall the agony of reading a completely different novel 鈥� A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara. And while I鈥檓 whining a bit, I might as well add one more complaint here and get it over with. I was not a fan of the author鈥檚 voice coming through Stingo. Yep, I said it. At the beginning it was just a little irritant in the back of my mind, but by the last few pages of the book I was oddly provoked! From what I understand, this novel is partially autobiographical and once discovered I couldn鈥檛 separate Stingo from Styron.
Having said all that, I鈥檓 simply trying to explain why what I thought initially would be a five star novel moved down a notch into 4 star territory. Regardless, it鈥檚 a book I would highly recommend to anyone. It鈥檚 exceptional and unforgettable. I am once again left reflecting on the nature of humankind. I thought about the ordinariness of both the perpetrators and the victims of the pure evil that was the Holocaust. No one person is completely demonized or glorified. Sophie is not painted as a noble innocent yet we are wholly drawn to her and can more easily empathize with her as a result. Her pain and her joy are palpable throughout. How does one make it from one day to the next when all faith is lost?
鈥淭he most profound statement yet made about Auschwitz was not a statement at all, but a response. The query: 鈥楢t Auschwitz, tell me, where was God?鈥� And the answer: 鈥榃here was man?鈥欌€�
Humor, Brooklyn, mental illness, eroticism, and the Holocaust. Sounds like an unlikely concoction for a novel, doesn鈥檛 it? This was totally unexpected! The only knowledge I had going into this is that it was a wildly popular film about World War II starring Meryl Streep, and that it would involve some troubling 鈥榗hoice鈥� of some sort. What I walked away from was a deeply moving, brilliantly written, sometimes overblown, story about three people whose lives converge during the summer of 1947.
鈥淚 was fated to get ensnared, like some hapless June bug, in the incredible spider鈥檚 nest of emotions that made up the relation between Sophie and Nathan鈥︹€�
In one way, this is a coming of age novel. Stingo is a twenty-two year old aspiring writer who has moved to Brooklyn after being dismissed from McGraw-Hill. He is plagued by the stigma of male virginity as well as a wicked case of persistent tumescence. The decision to narrate this story from Stingo鈥檚 point of view at first both puzzled and intrigued me. I expected this to be from Sophie鈥檚 perspective or from some omniscient narrator. It didn鈥檛 take long for me to grab onto Stingo and go along for the ride with him. When Stingo moves into The Pink Palace, a rooming house in a primarily Jewish neighborhood, he is a bit out of his element. However, it鈥檚 not long before he鈥檚 wholly caught up in the sexually charged atmosphere of two of his fellow boarders, the bright but volatile Nathan Landau, and the beautiful and tragic Sophie Zawistowski.
"鈥� I encountered Sophie in the flesh for the first time and fell, if not instantaneously, then swiftly and fathomlessly in love with her. It was a love which, as time wore on that summer, I realized had many reasons for laying claim to my existence.鈥�
What I loved best about this novel were the moments we spent with Stingo, Nathan and Sophie in the here and now. There is something very satisfying to me as a reader about a magnetic story of unrequited love, a passionate love affair, a genuine friendship, and compelling dialogue. This is what I found between this trio. As Sophie becomes comfortable in Stingo鈥檚 company, she unveils another strand of the plot. We hear about her past as she relates it to him. Of course, like many narratives, we, like Stingo, don鈥檛 get the whole truth at once. Her time spent in Auschwitz is revealed to us, but on her own terms. It鈥檚 a painful story and one that will not be fully confessed until you reach the finish line.
鈥溾€� it is now clear to me that a hideous sense of guilt always chiefly governed the reassessments she was forced to make of her past. I also came to see that she tended to view her own recent history through a filter of self-loathing鈥攁pparently not a rare phenomenon among those who had undergone her particular ordeal.鈥�
The plot alternates then between the present day and a series of flashbacks. While important and necessary to Sophie鈥檚 story and her frame of mind, I found the flashbacks to be less compelling than the whole. They were drawn out to the point I felt taken out of the story and had to set it aside and read something else. It鈥檚 not often I can say that about Holocaust fiction. I wish these sections had been edited a bit more; I suspect the impact would have been even greater. Furthermore, I couldn鈥檛 put my finger on it at first, but what I came to realize by the end was that I felt slightly manipulated by the author. I know this is likely an unpopular opinion, but I started to recall the agony of reading a completely different novel 鈥� A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara. And while I鈥檓 whining a bit, I might as well add one more complaint here and get it over with. I was not a fan of the author鈥檚 voice coming through Stingo. Yep, I said it. At the beginning it was just a little irritant in the back of my mind, but by the last few pages of the book I was oddly provoked! From what I understand, this novel is partially autobiographical and once discovered I couldn鈥檛 separate Stingo from Styron.
Having said all that, I鈥檓 simply trying to explain why what I thought initially would be a five star novel moved down a notch into 4 star territory. Regardless, it鈥檚 a book I would highly recommend to anyone. It鈥檚 exceptional and unforgettable. I am once again left reflecting on the nature of humankind. I thought about the ordinariness of both the perpetrators and the victims of the pure evil that was the Holocaust. No one person is completely demonized or glorified. Sophie is not painted as a noble innocent yet we are wholly drawn to her and can more easily empathize with her as a result. Her pain and her joy are palpable throughout. How does one make it from one day to the next when all faith is lost?
鈥淭he most profound statement yet made about Auschwitz was not a statement at all, but a response. The query: 鈥楢t Auschwitz, tell me, where was God?鈥� And the answer: 鈥榃here was man?鈥欌€�
October 16, 2018
芦螚 蔚蟺喂位慰纬萎 蟿畏蟼 危蠈蠁喂禄 蔚委谓伪喂 苇谓伪 位慰纬慰蟿蔚蠂谓喂魏蠈 蠀蟺苇蟻伪蟻喂蟽蟿慰蠉蟻纬畏渭伪, 渭喂伪 蔚魏胃伪渭尾蠅蟿喂魏萎 伪蟺蔚喂魏蠈谓喂蟽畏 蟿畏蟼 位蠀蟻喂魏萎蟼 魏伪喂 喂蟽蠂蠀蟻萎蟼 纬蟻伪蠁萎蟼, 蟽蔚 蟽蠀谓未蠀伪蟽渭蠈 渭蔚 渭喂伪 蔚尉委蟽慰蠀 蔚魏胃伪渭尾蠅蟿喂魏萎 蟺伪蟻慰蠀蟽委伪蟽畏 渭喂伪蟼 尾伪胃喂维蟼 魏伪喂 蟽蠀渭蟺慰谓蔚蟿喂魏萎蟼 魏伪蟿伪谓蠈畏蟽畏蟼 蟿畏蟼 伪谓胃蟻蠋蟺喂谓畏蟼 魏伪蟻未喂维蟼, 蟽蟿伪 胃蔚渭苇位喂伪 蟿畏蟼 慰蟺慰委伪蟼 胃维尾蔚蟿伪喂 魏伪喂 蟽蟿慰喂蠂蔚喂蠋谓蔚喂 蟿畏谓 蠉蟺伪蟻尉畏, 畏 伪蠉蟻伪 蟿畏蟼 蠄蠀蠂萎蟼.
违蟺苇蟻慰蠂慰, 蟺蟻伪纬渭伪蟿喂魏维, 伪蟺蔚蟻委蟽蟺伪蟽蟿伪 蟽蠀纬魏位慰谓喂蟽蟿喂魏蠈 尾喂尾位委慰, 伪蟺慰 伪蠀蟿维 蟺慰蠀 未蔚谓 尉蔚蠂谓维蟼 蟺慰蟿苇, 伪蟺慰 伪蠀蟿维 蟺慰蠀 伪纬伪蟺维蟼 魏维胃蔚 蟽蔚位委未伪 尉蔚蠂蠅蟻喂蟽蟿维.
螤蠅蟼 魏伪蟿维蠁蔚蟻蔚 慰 Styron 谓伪 蠀蠁维谓蔚喂 蠈位伪 伪蠀蟿维 蟿伪 谓萎渭伪蟿伪 蟽蟿慰 蠀蠁维未喂 蟿畏蟼 蟺伪谓伪谓胃蟻蠋蟺喂谓畏蟼 位萎胃畏蟼 渭苇蟽伪 蟽蟿慰 渭蠀伪位蠈 蟿畏蟼 蟺伪纬魏蠈蟽渭喂伪蟼 喂蟽蟿慰蟻委伪蟼 蟺慰蠀 蟽蠀谓蔚蠂委味蔚喂 谓伪 纬蟻维蠁蔚蟿伪喂 渭蔚 伪委渭伪 魏伪喂 未维魏蟻蠀伪, 蔚委谓伪喂 苇谓伪 伪蟺蠈位蠀蟿慰 胃伪蠉渭伪.
螝喂 伪谓 纬蟻维蠁蟿畏魏蔚 渭蔚 尾维蟽畏 蟿慰 慰位慰魏伪蠉蟿蠅渭伪, 蟿伪 谓伪味喂蟽蟿喂魏维 蟽蟿蟻伪蟿蠈蟺蔚未伪 蟽蠀纬魏苇谓蟿蟻蠅蟽畏蟼 魏伪喂 蟿喂蟼 魏位畏蟻慰谓慰渭喂苇蟼 胃伪谓维蟿慰蠀 魏伪喂 尾慰蠀尾萎蟼 蠀蟺慰蟿苇位蔚喂伪蟼 蟺慰蠀 伪蟺蠈魏蟿畏蟽蔚 畏 伪谓胃蟻蠅蟺蠈蟿畏蟿伪 渭蔚蟿维 伪蟺慰 蔚魏伪蟿慰渭渭蠉蟻喂伪 谓蔚魏蟻维 魏伪喂 味蠅谓蟿伪谓维 蟺蟿蠋渭伪蟿伪, 畏 未喂蔚喂蟽未蠀蟿喂魏蠈蟿畏蟿伪 蟿畏蟼 蟺苇谓伪蟼 蟿慰蠀 蟽蠀谓蔚蠂委味蔚喂 蟽蔚 蠈位慰 魏伪喂 蟺喂慰 伪蟺蠉胃渭蔚谓伪 尾维胃畏.
螘魏蔚委 蠈蟺慰蠀 慰 维谓胃蟻蠅蟺慰蟼 蟽蠀谓伪谓蟿维蔚喂 蟿慰谓 蔚伪蠀蟿蠈 蟿慰蠀 魏伪喂 蟿蟻慰渭维味蔚喂 魏伪喂 魏伪蟿伪蠁蔚蠉纬蔚喂 蟽蟿畏谓 魏伪蟿维胃位喂蠄畏 纬喂伪 谓伪 蟺蔚蟻喂蟽蠋蟽蔚喂 蔚位维蠂喂蟽蟿畏, 伪蟽萎渭伪谓蟿畏 蟺慰蟽蠈蟿畏蟿伪 伪谓胃蟻蠅蟺喂维蟼 魏伪喂 蟽蠀谓蔚委未畏蟽畏蟼, 伪蟻蟻蠅蟽蟿伪委谓慰谓蟿伪蟼 蟿畏谓 蠄蠀蠂萎 蟿慰蠀 渭蔚 蟿喂蟼 慰位苇胃蟻喂蔚蟼 伪蟺蔚喂魏慰谓委蟽蔚喂蟼 渭喂伪蟼 蠁蟻喂魏蟿萎蟼 蟺蟻伪纬渭伪蟿喂魏蠈蟿畏蟿伪蟼, 蟽蟿喂蟼 慰蟺慰委蔚蟼 蟽蠀渭渭蔚蟿蔚委蠂蔚 苇蟽蟿蠅 魏喂 蠅蟼 胃蔚伪蟿萎蟼.
桅蟿维谓蔚喂蟼 蟽蟿畏谓 蔚蟽蠂伪蟿喂维 蟺慰蠀 畏 渭慰谓伪未喂魏萎 蟽慰蠀 蔚位蟺委未伪 蟺伪蟻伪蟺苇渭蟺蔚喂 蟽蟿慰 胃蔚蠈, 蟽蔚 苇谓伪谓 胃蔚蠈 蟺慰蠀 蟺苇胃伪谓蔚, 蟽蔚 苇谓伪谓 胃蔚蠈 蟺慰蠀 未蔚谓 蠀蟺萎蟻尉蔚 蟺慰蟿苇, 渭伪 蟿慰谓 伪谓伪味畏蟿维蟼 渭蔚 伪蟺蠈纬谓蠅蟽畏 魏伪喂 蟺伪蟻维谓慰喂伪.
韦慰谓 伪谓伪味畏蟿维蟼 魏伪喂 蟿慰谓 魏伪蟿畏纬慰蟻蔚委蟼 纬喂伪 蠈位伪 蟿伪 渭伪蟻蟿蠀蟻委伪 蟿畏蟼 蠁蠉蟽畏蟼, 纬喂伪 蠈位慰蠀蟼 蟿慰蠀蟼 蔚蠁喂维位蟿蔚蟼 蟺慰蠀 尉蠉蟺谓畏蟽伪谓 渭苇蟽伪 伪蟺慰 蟿畏谓 蟺慰委畏蟽畏 蟿蠅谓 蟺伪蟻伪位慰纬喂蟽渭蠋谓 魏伪喂 蟿蠅谓 慰蠀蟽喂蠅未蠋谓 蟺伪蟻伪谓慰渭喂蠋谓 蔚喂蟼 尾维蟻慰蟼 蟿畏蟼 味蠅萎蟼.
螝伪蟿伪纬纬苇位位蔚喂蟼 魏伪喂 渭喂蟽蔚委蟼 渭蔚 蟺维胃慰蟼 蟿慰谓 未畏渭喂慰蠀蟻纬蠈 蟿畏蟼 螤位维蟽畏蟼, 蠈蟿伪谓 蟽蟿慰 喂蔚蟻蠈 魏伪喂 维纬慰谓慰 尉蔚蟻慰谓萎蟽喂 蟿蠅谓 蟽蟿蟻伪蟿慰蟺苇未蠅谓 未畏渭喂慰蠀蟻纬慰蠉谓蟿伪喂 魏慰喂谓蠅谓委蔚蟼 蠀蟺维魏慰蠀蔚蟼 魏伪喂 渭谓畏蟽委魏伪魏蔚蟼. 螌蟿伪谓 蟽蟿慰 蟽蠀纬魏蔚谓蟿蟻蠅蟿喂魏蠈 蔚纬魏位畏渭伪蟿喂魏蠈 魏伪蟿伪蠀位喂蟽渭蠈 魏维胃蔚 蔚尉慰蠀蟽委伪蟼 伪谓蟿喂位伪渭尾维谓蔚蟽伪喂 蟺蠅蟼 伪蟺蠅蟿蔚蟻慰蟼 蟽魏慰蟺蠈蟼 未蔚谓 蔚委谓伪喂 慰 伪蠁伪谓喂蟽渭蠈蟼.
螚 渭蠀蟻蠅未喂维 蟿慰蠀 胃伪谓维蟿慰蠀 蟺慰蠀 伪谓伪纬魏伪蟽蟿喂魏维 蔚喂蟽蟺谓苇蔚喂蟼 未蔚谓 蔚喂谓锟斤拷喂 畏 慰蠀蟽委伪 蟿慰蠀 蔚尉慰蠀蟽喂伪蟽蟿喂魏慰蠉 苇蟻纬慰蠀.
螒蠀蟿维 伪蟺位蠋蟼 蟽蔚 蟺蟻慰蠅胃慰蠉谓 渭蔚 伪蟺蠈位蠀蟿畏 伪魏蟻委尾蔚喂伪 蟽蟿畏谓 蟽蠀谓维蠁蔚喂伪 渭蔚蟿伪尉蠉 伪蠀蟿慰魏伪蟿伪蟺委蔚蟽畏蟼 魏伪喂 伪蠀蟿慰蟽蠀谓蟿萎蟻畏蟽畏蟼.
螆蟿蟽喂, 蟺伪蠉蔚喂蟼 谓伪 伪谓伪味畏蟿维蟼 蟿慰 胃蔚蠈, 伪谓萎魏蔚喂蟼 蟽蔚 蟽蠀位位慰纬喂魏苇蟼 魏慰喂谓蠅谓委蔚蟼 蠀蟺慰蟿苇位蔚喂伪蟼 魏伪喂 蔚尉伪谓伪纬魏伪蟽渭慰蠉 渭蔚 尾伪蟽喂魏蠈 蠂伪蟻伪魏蟿畏蟻喂蟽蟿喂魏蠈 蟿畏谓 伪未委蟽蟿伪魏蟿畏 伪未喂伪蠁慰蟻委伪 纬喂伪 蠈位伪.
螝喂 伪谓 魏维蟺慰喂伪 蟽蟿喂纬渭萎 纬慰谓伪蟿委蟽蔚喂蟼 蟽蟿慰 渭谓萎渭伪 蟿慰蠀 胃蔚慰蠉 魏伪喂 蟽慰魏伪蟻喂蟽蟿蔚委蟼 伪蟺慰 蟿伪 渭谓畏渭蔚委伪 蔚尉蠈谓蟿蠅蟽畏蟼 蟺慰蠀 蟽蟿慰位委味慰蠀谓 蟿慰谓 魏蠈蟽渭慰 蟽慰蠀, 蟿蠈蟿蔚 蟺慰蠀 伪喂蟽胃维谓蔚蟽伪喂 蟿畏谓 伪谓蠀蟺伪蟻尉委伪 蟿畏蟼 胃蔚蠆魏萎蟼 尾慰萎胃蔚喂伪蟼, 渭伪 伪谓伪味畏蟿维蟼 慰蠀蟻位喂维味慰谓蟿伪蟼 蟿畏谓 伪谓胃蟻蠋蟺喂谓畏 蟺伪蟻苇渭尾伪蟽畏, 蟿蠈蟿蔚 蟿蟻蔚位伪委谓蔚蟽伪喂.
韦慰 蔚蟻蠋蟿畏渭伪 渭蟺蟻慰蟽蟿维 蟽蟿喂蟼 蔚蟺喂蟿蠉渭尾喂蔚蟼 蟺位维魏蔚蟼 蟿畏蟼 蠀蠁畏位委慰蠀, 蟽蔚 蠈位蔚蟼 蟿喂蟼 喂蟽蟿慰蟻喂魏苇蟼 蟺蔚蟻喂蠈未慰蠀蟼 伪位位维味蔚喂 蠀蟺蠈蟽蟿伪蟽畏, 伪位位维味蔚喂 蠀蟺慰魏蔚委渭蔚谓慰, 伪谓蟿喂魏蔚委渭蔚谓慰 魏伪喂 魏伪蟿畏纬慰蟻慰蠉渭蔚谓慰, 纬委谓蔚蟿伪喂 蟽慰魏伪蟻喂蟽蟿喂魏维 魏伪蟿伪谓慰畏蟿蠈.
螖蔚谓 蟻蠅蟿维渭蔚 蟺位苇慰谓 蟺慰蠉 萎蟿锟斤拷谓 慰 螛蔚蠈蟼 渭蟺蟻慰蟽蟿维 蟽蟿畏 谓慰蟽畏蟻萎 魏蠈位伪蟽畏 蟿畏蟼 蟺伪谓伪谓胃蟻蠋蟺喂谓畏蟼 蟿蟻伪纬蠅未委伪蟼, 伪位位维 蟺慰蠉 萎蟿伪谓 慰 螁谓胃蟻蠅蟺慰蟼, 慰喂 螁谓胃蟻蠅蟺慰喂... 纬喂伪 谓伪 伪蟺慰蟿蟻苇蠄慰蠀谓, 谓伪 蟽蠋蟽慰蠀谓 谓伪 尾慰畏胃萎蟽慰蠀谓.
螖蔚谓 蠀蟺维蟻蠂蔚喂 伪蟺维谓蟿畏蟽畏, 魏喂 蠈蟺慰喂慰蟼 蟿畏 尾蟻萎魏蔚, 蟺蟻慰蟿委渭畏蟽蔚 谓伪 尉蔚蠂维蟽蔚喂 蟺蟻喂谓 伪蠀蟿慰魏蟿慰谓萎蟽蔚喂.
螆蟿蟽喂, 尾伪未委味蔚喂 慰 Styron 渭苇蟽伪 蟽蟿畏谓 喂蟽蟿慰蟻委伪 蟿慰蠀, 渭蔚 谓慰蟽畏蟻苇蟼 胃蔚渭伪蟿喂魏苇蟼 魏伪喂 蔚魏魏位萎蟽蔚喂蟼 蟺蟻慰蟼 蟿畏谓 伪谓胃蟻蠋蟺喂谓畏 蟽蠀谓蔚委未畏蟽畏. 螒蟺慰魏伪位蠉蟺蟿蔚喂, 蔚尉伪喂蟻蔚委, 蟺伪蟻伪位位畏位委味蔚喂, 魏伪蟿伪纬蟻维蠁蔚喂 魏伪喂 伪蠁畏纬蔚委蟿伪喂, 渭蔚 伪谓伪蠁慰蟻苇蟼 魏伪喂 蟽蟿慰喂蠂蔚委伪 蟿蠅谓 蟺喂慰 苇谓蟿慰谓蠅谓 蟽蠀谓伪喂蟽胃畏渭维蟿蠅谓, 魏伪蟿伪蟽蟿维蟽蔚蠅谓, 纬蔚纬慰谓蠈蟿蠅谓 魏伪喂 蟺蟻维尉蔚蠅谓 蟿畏蟼 蠁蠀位萎蟼 蟿蠅谓 蠈谓蟿蠅谓 渭蔚 谓慰蠀 魏伪喂 蠄蠀蠂萎.
螝伪渭委伪 未喂伪蠁慰蟻维 伪谓维渭蔚蟽伪 蟽蟿慰蠀蟼 谓苇纬蟻慰蠀蟼 蟽魏位维尾慰蠀蟼 蟿畏蟼 螒渭蔚蟻喂魏萎蟼 蟿慰蠀 伪纬蟻慰蟿喂魏慰蠉 谓蠈蟿慰蠀 魏伪喂 蟿蠅谓 胃蠀渭维蟿蠅谓 蟿蠅谓 谓伪味委. 螚 蠁蠀位萎 魏伪喂 畏 蟺委蟽蟿畏, 畏 魏位畏蟻慰谓慰渭喂维 蟿畏蟼 未慰蠀位蔚委伪蟼 魏伪喂 蟿慰蠀 蟻伪蟿蟽喂蟽渭慰蠉, 慰 螔慰蟻蟻维蟼 魏伪喂 慰 螡蠈蟿慰蟼, 慰喂 螘尾蟻伪委慰喂 魏伪喂 慰喂 蠁伪蟽委蟽蟿蔚蟼, 畏 畏胃喂魏萎 蟺喂魏蟻委伪 魏伪喂 畏 蟽蔚尉慰蠀伪位喂魏萎 伪蟺蔚位蔚蠀胃苇蟻蠅蟽畏, 畏 蟺蟻蠈魏位畏蟽畏 纬喂伪 味蠅萎 魏伪喂 慰喂 胃蟻畏蟽魏蔚蠀蟿喂魏苇蟼 蟺蔚蟺慰喂胃萎蟽蔚喂蟼. 螣 苇蟻蠅蟿伪蟼 魏伪喂 畏 蟽蠂喂味慰蠁蟻苇谓蔚喂伪 蟿畏蟼 位慰纬喂魏萎蟼, 蟿蟻伪蠉渭伪蟿伪, 蔚渭蟺蔚喂蟻委蔚蟼, 伪喂蟽胃萎渭伪蟿伪, 渭蠉畏蟽畏, 蔚蟺喂位慰纬萎, 胃蟻委伪渭尾慰蟼, 蟺伪蟻维谓慰喂伪.
螜蟽慰未蠉谓伪渭伪 渭蔚纬苇胃畏 魏伪魏慰蠉 蟽蔚 魏维胃蔚 蠂蠋蟻伪, 蟽蔚 魏维胃蔚 纬蠅谓喂维 蠁蠀蟽喂魏萎蟼 谓慰渭慰蟿苇位蔚喂伪蟼.
危蟿畏谓 蟺蟻伪纬渭伪蟿喂魏蠈蟿畏蟿伪 慰 蟽蠀纬纬蟻伪蠁苇伪蟼 渭蔚蟿伪未委未蔚喂 喂蟽蟿慰蟻委伪 渭慰蟻蠁慰蟺慰喂畏渭苇谓畏 蟽蔚 蠂伪蟻伪魏蟿萎蟻蔚蟼.
螝蠀蟻喂慰位蔚魏蟿喂魏维, 蠂蟿委味蔚喂 蠈位蔚蟼 蟿喂蟼 维蟻蟻蠅蟽蟿蔚蟼 蟿蔚位蔚喂蠈蟿畏蟿蔚蟼 蟺慰蠀 魏伪蟿伪位萎纬慰蠀谓 蟽蔚 魏维胃蔚 蔚位位畏谓喂魏萎 伪蟻蠂伪委伪 蟿蟻伪纬蠅未委伪 蟺慰蠀 蟿慰 蟺伪蟻蔚位胃蠈谓 魏蟻苇渭蔚蟿伪喂 伪蟺蔚喂位畏蟿喂魏维 蟺维谓蠅 伪蟺慰 蟿畏谓 伪蠁萎纬畏蟽畏.
螣喂 蟺蟻蠅蟿伪纬蠅谓喂蟽蟿苇蟼 蟿慰蠀 尾喂尾位委慰蠀 蔚委谓伪喂 纬蠀渭谓慰委 蔚蟽蠅蟿蔚蟻喂魏维 魏伪喂 蔚尉蠅蟿蔚蟻喂魏维, 味慰蠀谓, 蠀蟺维蟻蠂慰蠀谓, 蟺慰蟻蔚蠉慰谓蟿伪喂, 伪纬伪蟺喂慰蠉谓蟿伪喂, 未畏渭喂慰蠀蟻纬慰蠉谓 伪谓蔚尉委蟿畏位蔚蟼 喂蟽蟿慰蟻委蔚蟼.
螘委谓伪喂 蟺伪纬喂未蔚蠀渭苇谓慰喂, 未喂蟺慰位喂魏维 胃伪蠀渭维蟽喂伪 胃蠉渭伪蟿伪 蟽蟿慰 尾蠅渭蠈 蟿畏蟼 蔚谓慰蠂萎蟼 蟿慰蠀 蔚蟺喂味蠋谓蟿蠅谓.
危蠀谓蟿蔚蟿蟻喂渭渭苇谓慰喂 魏伪喂 谓喂魏畏蟿苇蟼 蟽蔚 苇谓伪谓 蠂伪渭苇谓慰 伪纬蠋谓伪, 蔚蟺喂渭苇谓慰蠀谓 谓伪 蔚蟺喂蟺位苇慰蠀谓 蟺位萎蟻蠅蟼 蟽蟿畏谓 未喂魏萎 蟿慰蠀蟼 蟺慰渭蟺蠋未畏, 伪蠀蟿伪蟻蠂喂魏萎 蔚蟺喂胃蠀渭委伪. 危蟿畏谓 未喂魏萎 蟿慰蠀蟼 蔚蟺喂位慰纬萎 ...螒蠀蟿慰委 蔚委谓伪喂 蟺蟻伪纬渭伪蟿喂魏慰委 维谓胃蟻蠅蟺慰喂 蟺慰蠀 味慰蠀谓 伪谓慰喂蠂蟿维 魏维蟿蠅 伪蟺慰 蟿畏 蟽魏喂维 蟿畏蟼 位萎胃畏蟼 魏伪喂 蟿蠅谓 蟺蔚蟻喂慰蟻喂蟽渭蠋谓 蟿慰蠀蟼.
螞苇谓蔚 蟿喂蟼 喂蟽蟿慰蟻委蔚蟼 蟿慰蠀蟼, 蟿喂蟼 味慰蠀谓 蟺蟻蠅蟿伪纬蠅谓喂蟽蟿喂魏维 魏伪喂 畏 未蠉谓伪渭畏 伪蠀蟿慰蠉 蟿慰蠀 尾喂尾位委慰蠀 苇纬魏蔚喂蟿伪喂 蟽蟿慰 纬蔚纬慰谓蠈蟼 蟺蠅蟼 渭苇蟽伪 伪蟺慰 伪蠀蟿苇蟼 蟿喂蟼 喂蟽蟿慰蟻委蔚蟼 位苇纬蔚蟿伪喂 魏伪喂 畏 喂蟽蟿慰蟻委伪 蟿慰蠀 魏伪胃蔚谓蠈蟼 渭伪蟼.
螆谓伪 蟺蠀魏谓慰纬蟻伪渭渭苇谓慰 渭蠀胃喂蟽蟿蠈蟻畏渭伪, 渭蔚 尾伪胃蠉 蔚尉蔚蟻蔚蠀谓畏蟿喂魏蠈 苇蟻纬慰 蟽蟿畏谓 蠀蟺慰尾维胃渭喂蟽畏 蟿畏蟼 伪谓胃蟻蠋蟺喂谓畏蟼 味蠅萎蟼.
螆谓伪蟼 未喂伪位慰纬喂蟽渭蠈蟼 纬喂伪 蟿慰 魏蔚谓蟿蟻喂魏蠈 魏伪魏蠈 蟿慰蠀 伪喂蠋谓伪 蟺慰蠀 蟺苇蟻伪蟽蔚 渭苇蟽蠅 蟿蟻喂蠋谓 蠂伪蟻伪魏蟿萎蟻蠅谓. 螠苇蟽伪 伪蟺慰 蟿蟻蔚喂蟼 蠂伪蟻伪魏蟿萎蟻蔚蟼 纬蔚谓谓喂慰蠉谓蟿伪喂 维蟺蔚喂蟻蔚蟼 喂蟽蟿慰蟻委蔚蟼 蟽蔚 未喂伪蠁慰蟻蔚蟿喂魏维 蠂蠅蟻慰蠂蟻慰谓喂魏维 蟽畏渭蔚委伪.
违蠁伪委谓慰谓蟿伪喂 伪谓伪渭谓萎蟽蔚喂蟼 魏伪喂 蔚喂魏蠈谓蔚蟼 渭蔚 魏慰喂谓蠈 蟺伪蟻慰谓慰渭伪蟽蟿萎 蟿畏 蠁蟻委魏畏, 蟿慰 渭委蟽慰蟼, 蟿畏谓 蔚尉维蟻蟿畏蟽畏 魏伪喂 蟿畏谓 伪蟺慰未慰蠂萎 蟿畏蟼 蠁喂位慰蟽慰蠁委伪蟼 纬喂伪 蔚蟺喂未喂蠋尉蔚喂蟼 芦韦蔚位喂魏蠋谓 螞蠉蟽蔚蠅谓禄.
螚 蟺伪蟻伪尾委伪蟽畏 蟿畏蟼 伪谓胃蟻蠋蟺喂谓畏蟼 味蠅萎蟼, 慰喂 蔚蟺喂位慰纬苇蟼 蟺慰蠀 蟽蔚 蟿蠀位委纬慰蠀谓 蟽伪谓 蟿伪 蟺伪纬蠅渭苇谓伪 蟻慰蠉蠂伪 蟿畏蟼 位蠀蟿蟻蠅蟿喂魏萎蟼 维纬蟻喂伪蟼 蠄蔚蠀蟿喂维蟼, 畏 谓委魏畏 蟿慰蠀 蠁伪蟽喂蟽渭慰蠉 蟽蔚 魏维胃蔚 苇魏蠁伪谓蟽畏, 魏伪蟿伪未蔚喂魏谓蠉蔚喂 慰未蠀谓畏蟻维 蟺蠅蟼 蔚蟺喂魏蟻伪蟿慰蠉谓 蟺维谓蟿伪 蟿伪 蔚蟺伪魏蠈位慰蠀胃伪 伪蟺慰 魏维胃蔚 慰位慰魏伪蠉蟿蠅渭伪 蟺慰蠀 未喂苇蟺蟻伪尉蔚 魏伪喂 蔚蟺苇蟿蟻蔚蠄蔚 畏 伪谓胃蟻蠅蟺蠈蟿畏蟿伪. 韦慰蟽慰 蟽蔚 蟽蠀位位慰纬喂魏蠈 蠈蟽慰 魏伪喂 蟽蔚 蟺蟻慰蟽蠅蟺喂魏蠈 蔚蟺委蟺蔚未慰.
螚 蔚蟺喂位慰纬萎 蟿畏蟼 危蠈蠁喂!
螤蠈蟽慰 蟺喂慰 蟽蟺伪蟻伪尉喂魏维蟻未喂伪 魏伪喂 慰未蠀谓畏蟻萎 胃伪 渭蟺慰蟻慰蠉蟽蔚 谓伪 蔚委谓伪喂 伪蠀蟿萎 畏 芦蔚蟺喂位慰纬萎禄, 蟺蠈蟽慰 伪未喂伪谓蠈畏蟿畏 魏伪喂 蔚蠁喂伪位蟿喂魏萎, 蔚喂位喂魏蟻喂谓维 未蔚谓 蟿慰 蠂蠅蟻维蔚喂 伪谓胃蟻蠋蟺喂谓慰蟼 谓慰蠀蟼.
螘委谓伪喂 伪蠀蟿萎 畏 蔚蟺喂位慰纬萎 蟺慰蠀 未蔚谓 蠂伪蟻委味蔚蟿伪喂 蟽蔚 蠈位慰蠀蟼, 蟺慰蠀 蟽慰蠀 蟿蠀蠂伪委谓蔚喂 渭蠈谓慰 伪谓 伪谓萎魏蔚喂蟼 蟽蟿慰蠀蟼 喂蔚蟻维 魏伪蟿伪蟻伪渭苇谓慰蠀蟼, 蟽蟿慰蠀蟼 伪纬蠅谓喂蟽蟿苇蟼 蟿慰蠀 伪未喂伪谓蠈畏蟿慰蠀, 蟽蟿畏谓 蠉蟺伪蟻尉畏 蟿慰蠀 魏伪胃伪蟻慰蠉 魏伪魏慰蠉, 蟽蔚 伪蠀蟿慰蠉蟼 蟺慰蠀 未喂未维蠂蟿畏魏伪谓 蟿慰 蟽魏慰蟿维未喂, 蟿畏谓 蔚蠀胃蟻伪蟽蟿蠈蟿畏蟿伪 魏伪喂 蟿畏 未蠉谓伪渭畏 蟿畏蟼 伪谓胃蟻蠋蟺喂谓畏蟼 蠄蠀蠂萎蟼.
螒谓 魏维谓蔚喂蟼 蟿畏谓 芦蔚蟺喂位慰纬萎禄 伪谓伪蟺蠈蠁蔚蠀魏蟿伪 胃蟻喂伪渭尾蔚蠉蔚喂 畏 蟺伪蟻伪蟺位维谓畏蟽畏 蟿畏蟼 魏伪蟿伪未喂魏伪蟽渭苇谓畏蟼 蔚位蟺委未伪蟼 魏伪喂 畏 蟺伪蟻维谓慰喂伪. 韦慰 蟽委纬慰蠀蟻慰 蔚喂谓伪喂 蟺蠅蟼 伪谓 尾蟻蔚胃蔚委蟼 渭蟺蟻慰蟽蟿维 蟽蔚 伪蠀蟿萎 蟿畏谓 蔚蟺喂位慰纬萎 尾蠀胃委味蔚蟽伪喂 蔚魏慰蠉蟽喂伪 蟽蔚 渭喂伪 蔚蟻蔚尾蠋未畏 位畏蟽渭慰谓喂维 魏伪喂 未蔚谓 尉苇蟻蔚喂蟼 伪谓 蠂维胃畏魏蔚蟼 渭苇蟽伪 蟽蟿慰谓 委未喂慰 蟽慰蠀 蟿慰谓 蔚伪蠀蟿蠈 萎 伪谓 蟺苇蟻伪蟽蔚蟼 蟽蟿畏谓 伪纬魏伪位喂维 蟿慰蠀 胃伪谓维蟿慰蠀. 螁位位蠅蟽蟿蔚 蔚委蟽伪喂 蟽蟿畏谓 伪谓蠀蟺伪蟻尉委伪, 蠈蟽慰 魏喂 伪谓 慰蠀蟻位喂维味蔚喂蟼 魏伪谓蔚委蟼 未蔚谓 胃伪 蟽蔚 伪魏慰蠉蟽蔚喂, 魏喂 伪谓 伪魏慰蠀蟽蟿蔚委蟼 蔚喂谓伪喂 渭维蟿伪喂慰, 畏 芦蔚蟺喂位慰纬萎禄 苇蠂蔚喂 纬委谓蔚喂. 螝维蟺蠅蟼 苇蟿蟽喂 苇蟻蠂蔚蟿伪喂 畏 蟺蔚蟻喂未委谓畏蟽畏 魏伪喂 蟿慰 苇谓伪 魏伪蟿伪蟻伪渭苇谓慰 纬蔚纬慰谓蠈蟼 渭蔚蟿维 蟿慰 维位位慰.
螖蔚谓 蔚委渭伪喂 蟽蔚 胃苇蟽畏 谓伪 蔚谓蟿维尉蠅 伪蠀蟿蠈 蟿慰 伪蟻喂蟽蟿慰蠉蟻纬畏渭伪 蟽蔚 魏维蟺慰喂伪 魏伪蟿畏纬慰蟻委伪.
韦慰 渭蔚纬伪位蔚委慰 蟿慰蠀 蠁伪谓蔚蟻蠋谓蔚喂 蟿伪 渭蠀蟽蟿喂魏维 蟿慰蠀 蟽蟿伪未喂伪魏维 蟽伪谓 谓伪 尉蔚蠁位慰蠀未委味蔚蟿伪喂 畏 渭委伪 蔚蟺喂蠁维谓蔚喂伪 魏维蟿蠅 伪蟺慰 蟿畏谓 维位位畏.
螣 蠀蟺伪喂谓喂纬渭蠈蟼 蟿畏蟼 蠁蟻委魏畏蟼 魏伪喂 蟿慰蠀 魏伪蟿伪蟻伪渭苇谓慰蠀 苇蟻蠅蟿伪 伪蟺慰魏伪位蠉蟺蟿蔚蟿伪喂 蔚尉 伪蟻蠂萎蟼, 渭伪 畏 苇谓蟿伪蟽畏, 畏 蔚尉苇位喂尉畏, 魏伪喂 慰喂 伪蟺慰魏伪位蠉蠄蔚喂蟼 胃蔚蟻渭伪委谓慰谓蟿伪喂 魏伪喂 尾伪胃伪委谓慰蠀谓 魏伪胃蠋蟼 慰 伪谓伪纬谓蠋蟽蟿畏蟼 纬谓蠅蟻委味蔚喂 魏伪位蠉蟿蔚蟻伪 蟿慰蠀蟼 伪谓胃蟻蠋蟺慰蠀蟼.
螤蟻蠈魏蔚喂蟿伪喂 纬喂伪 苇谓伪 渭蠀胃喂蟽蟿蠈蟻畏渭伪 味蠅萎蟼, 蟺慰蠀 喂蟽慰蟻蟻慰蟺蔚委 蟽蔚 渭喂伪 蟽蟿喂纬渭萎 蟺伪纬喂未蔚蠀渭苇谓畏 伪蟺慰 蟿伪 蟿蟻伪蠉渭伪蟿伪 蟿慰蠀 蟺伪蟻蔚位胃蠈谓蟿慰蟼 魏伪喂 未喂蠂伪蟽渭苇谓畏 伪蟺慰 蟿畏谓 伪尾蔚尾伪喂蠈蟿畏蟿伪 蟿慰蠀 渭苇位位慰谓蟿慰蟼. 螠喂伪 蟺慰位位伪蟺位萎 蟺蟻慰慰蟺蟿喂魏萎 蟽蔚 苇谓伪 畏胃喂魏蠈 蟺蟻委蟽渭伪 蟺慰蠀 未喂伪蠂蠅蟻委味蔚喂 慰位伪 蟿伪 蔚委未畏 蟿蠅谓 胃蔚渭维蟿蠅谓 蟿畏蟼 味蠅萎蟼.
螠喂伪 芦蔚蟺喂位慰纬萎禄 渭蔚蟿维 蟿畏谓 慰蟺慰委伪 未蔚谓 蠁慰尾维蟽伪喂. 螣 渭蠈谓慰蟼 蟿蟻蠈蟺慰蟼 纬喂伪 谓伪 蔚尉伪蟻纬蠀蟻蠋蟽蔚喂蟼 蟿畏谓 蟺喂慰 蟿蟻慰渭蔚蟻萎 蔚蟺喂位慰纬萎 蟿畏蟼 味蠅萎蟼 蟽慰蠀 蔚委谓伪喂 谓伪 伪魏慰位慰蠀胃萎蟽蔚喂蟼 蠈蟺慰喂慰谓 未蔚谓 蟽慰蠀 蠀蟺蠈蟽蠂蔚蟿伪喂 蟿委蟺慰蟿伪 蟺伪蟻维 胃维谓伪蟿慰.
* 螒谓 蠁蟿维蟽伪蟿蔚 蠅蟼 蔚未蠋 未喂伪尾维味慰谓蟿伪蟼 蟿畏谓 魏蟻喂蟿喂魏萎 渭慰蠀 蟽伪蟼 蔚蠀蠂伪蟻喂蟽蟿蠋 伪蟺慰 魏伪蟻未喂维蟼.
螒谓 蠁慰尾畏胃萎魏伪蟿蔚 蟿慰 蟽蔚谓蟿蠈谓喂 蟺慰蠀 伪谓维蟻蟿畏蟽伪 魏伪喂 伪蟺位蠋蟼 蟻委尉伪蟿蔚 渭喂伪 渭伪蟿喂维 魏伪喂 蟺维位喂 蟽伪蟼 蔚蠀蠂伪蟻喂蟽蟿蠋.
螒谓 未蔚谓 蟿畏 未喂伪尾维蟽伪蟿蔚 魏伪谓 蟽伪蟼 伪纬伪蟺蠋. 螝伪喂 蟽伪蟼 蠀蟺蠈蟽蠂慰渭伪喂 谓伪 蔚委渭伪喂 蠈蟽慰 纬委谓蔚蟿伪喂 蟺喂慰 蟽蠉谓蟿慰渭畏 蟽蟿畏谓 纬蟻伪蟺蟿萎 苇魏蠁蟻伪蟽畏 魏伪喂 伪谓伪位蠀蟽畏 蟿蠅谓 伪谓伪纬谓蠅蟽蟿喂魏蠋谓 渭慰蠀 芦蔚蟺喂位慰纬蠋谓禄.
违危. 螌蟿伪谓 蟺蟻蠈魏蔚喂蟿伪喂 纬喂伪 蟿慰谓 蔚蟻蠅蟿喂蟽渭蠈 蟺慰蠀 渭慰蠀 蔚渭蟺谓苇慰蠀谓 蟿伪 尾喂尾位委伪 未蔚谓 蟿畏蟻蠋 蟽蠂蔚未蠈谓 蟺慰蟿苇 蟿喂蟼 蠀蟺慰蟽蠂苇蟽蔚喂蟼 渭慰蠀.
馃拵
螝伪位萎 伪谓维纬谓蠅蟽畏.
螤慰位位慰蠉蟼 伪蟽蟺伪蟽渭慰蠉蟼.
违蟺苇蟻慰蠂慰, 蟺蟻伪纬渭伪蟿喂魏维, 伪蟺蔚蟻委蟽蟺伪蟽蟿伪 蟽蠀纬魏位慰谓喂蟽蟿喂魏蠈 尾喂尾位委慰, 伪蟺慰 伪蠀蟿维 蟺慰蠀 未蔚谓 尉蔚蠂谓维蟼 蟺慰蟿苇, 伪蟺慰 伪蠀蟿维 蟺慰蠀 伪纬伪蟺维蟼 魏维胃蔚 蟽蔚位委未伪 尉蔚蠂蠅蟻喂蟽蟿维.
螤蠅蟼 魏伪蟿维蠁蔚蟻蔚 慰 Styron 谓伪 蠀蠁维谓蔚喂 蠈位伪 伪蠀蟿维 蟿伪 谓萎渭伪蟿伪 蟽蟿慰 蠀蠁维未喂 蟿畏蟼 蟺伪谓伪谓胃蟻蠋蟺喂谓畏蟼 位萎胃畏蟼 渭苇蟽伪 蟽蟿慰 渭蠀伪位蠈 蟿畏蟼 蟺伪纬魏蠈蟽渭喂伪蟼 喂蟽蟿慰蟻委伪蟼 蟺慰蠀 蟽蠀谓蔚蠂委味蔚喂 谓伪 纬蟻维蠁蔚蟿伪喂 渭蔚 伪委渭伪 魏伪喂 未维魏蟻蠀伪, 蔚委谓伪喂 苇谓伪 伪蟺蠈位蠀蟿慰 胃伪蠉渭伪.
螝喂 伪谓 纬蟻维蠁蟿畏魏蔚 渭蔚 尾维蟽畏 蟿慰 慰位慰魏伪蠉蟿蠅渭伪, 蟿伪 谓伪味喂蟽蟿喂魏维 蟽蟿蟻伪蟿蠈蟺蔚未伪 蟽蠀纬魏苇谓蟿蟻蠅蟽畏蟼 魏伪喂 蟿喂蟼 魏位畏蟻慰谓慰渭喂苇蟼 胃伪谓维蟿慰蠀 魏伪喂 尾慰蠀尾萎蟼 蠀蟺慰蟿苇位蔚喂伪蟼 蟺慰蠀 伪蟺蠈魏蟿畏蟽蔚 畏 伪谓胃蟻蠅蟺蠈蟿畏蟿伪 渭蔚蟿维 伪蟺慰 蔚魏伪蟿慰渭渭蠉蟻喂伪 谓蔚魏蟻维 魏伪喂 味蠅谓蟿伪谓维 蟺蟿蠋渭伪蟿伪, 畏 未喂蔚喂蟽未蠀蟿喂魏蠈蟿畏蟿伪 蟿畏蟼 蟺苇谓伪蟼 蟿慰蠀 蟽蠀谓蔚蠂委味蔚喂 蟽蔚 蠈位慰 魏伪喂 蟺喂慰 伪蟺蠉胃渭蔚谓伪 尾维胃畏.
螘魏蔚委 蠈蟺慰蠀 慰 维谓胃蟻蠅蟺慰蟼 蟽蠀谓伪谓蟿维蔚喂 蟿慰谓 蔚伪蠀蟿蠈 蟿慰蠀 魏伪喂 蟿蟻慰渭维味蔚喂 魏伪喂 魏伪蟿伪蠁蔚蠉纬蔚喂 蟽蟿畏谓 魏伪蟿维胃位喂蠄畏 纬喂伪 谓伪 蟺蔚蟻喂蟽蠋蟽蔚喂 蔚位维蠂喂蟽蟿畏, 伪蟽萎渭伪谓蟿畏 蟺慰蟽蠈蟿畏蟿伪 伪谓胃蟻蠅蟺喂维蟼 魏伪喂 蟽蠀谓蔚委未畏蟽畏蟼, 伪蟻蟻蠅蟽蟿伪委谓慰谓蟿伪蟼 蟿畏谓 蠄蠀蠂萎 蟿慰蠀 渭蔚 蟿喂蟼 慰位苇胃蟻喂蔚蟼 伪蟺蔚喂魏慰谓委蟽蔚喂蟼 渭喂伪蟼 蠁蟻喂魏蟿萎蟼 蟺蟻伪纬渭伪蟿喂魏蠈蟿畏蟿伪蟼, 蟽蟿喂蟼 慰蟺慰委蔚蟼 蟽蠀渭渭蔚蟿蔚委蠂蔚 苇蟽蟿蠅 魏喂 蠅蟼 胃蔚伪蟿萎蟼.
桅蟿维谓蔚喂蟼 蟽蟿畏谓 蔚蟽蠂伪蟿喂维 蟺慰蠀 畏 渭慰谓伪未喂魏萎 蟽慰蠀 蔚位蟺委未伪 蟺伪蟻伪蟺苇渭蟺蔚喂 蟽蟿慰 胃蔚蠈, 蟽蔚 苇谓伪谓 胃蔚蠈 蟺慰蠀 蟺苇胃伪谓蔚, 蟽蔚 苇谓伪谓 胃蔚蠈 蟺慰蠀 未蔚谓 蠀蟺萎蟻尉蔚 蟺慰蟿苇, 渭伪 蟿慰谓 伪谓伪味畏蟿维蟼 渭蔚 伪蟺蠈纬谓蠅蟽畏 魏伪喂 蟺伪蟻维谓慰喂伪.
韦慰谓 伪谓伪味畏蟿维蟼 魏伪喂 蟿慰谓 魏伪蟿畏纬慰蟻蔚委蟼 纬喂伪 蠈位伪 蟿伪 渭伪蟻蟿蠀蟻委伪 蟿畏蟼 蠁蠉蟽畏蟼, 纬喂伪 蠈位慰蠀蟼 蟿慰蠀蟼 蔚蠁喂维位蟿蔚蟼 蟺慰蠀 尉蠉蟺谓畏蟽伪谓 渭苇蟽伪 伪蟺慰 蟿畏谓 蟺慰委畏蟽畏 蟿蠅谓 蟺伪蟻伪位慰纬喂蟽渭蠋谓 魏伪喂 蟿蠅谓 慰蠀蟽喂蠅未蠋谓 蟺伪蟻伪谓慰渭喂蠋谓 蔚喂蟼 尾维蟻慰蟼 蟿畏蟼 味蠅萎蟼.
螝伪蟿伪纬纬苇位位蔚喂蟼 魏伪喂 渭喂蟽蔚委蟼 渭蔚 蟺维胃慰蟼 蟿慰谓 未畏渭喂慰蠀蟻纬蠈 蟿畏蟼 螤位维蟽畏蟼, 蠈蟿伪谓 蟽蟿慰 喂蔚蟻蠈 魏伪喂 维纬慰谓慰 尉蔚蟻慰谓萎蟽喂 蟿蠅谓 蟽蟿蟻伪蟿慰蟺苇未蠅谓 未畏渭喂慰蠀蟻纬慰蠉谓蟿伪喂 魏慰喂谓蠅谓委蔚蟼 蠀蟺维魏慰蠀蔚蟼 魏伪喂 渭谓畏蟽委魏伪魏蔚蟼. 螌蟿伪谓 蟽蟿慰 蟽蠀纬魏蔚谓蟿蟻蠅蟿喂魏蠈 蔚纬魏位畏渭伪蟿喂魏蠈 魏伪蟿伪蠀位喂蟽渭蠈 魏维胃蔚 蔚尉慰蠀蟽委伪蟼 伪谓蟿喂位伪渭尾维谓蔚蟽伪喂 蟺蠅蟼 伪蟺蠅蟿蔚蟻慰蟼 蟽魏慰蟺蠈蟼 未蔚谓 蔚委谓伪喂 慰 伪蠁伪谓喂蟽渭蠈蟼.
螚 渭蠀蟻蠅未喂维 蟿慰蠀 胃伪谓维蟿慰蠀 蟺慰蠀 伪谓伪纬魏伪蟽蟿喂魏维 蔚喂蟽蟺谓苇蔚喂蟼 未蔚谓 蔚喂谓锟斤拷喂 畏 慰蠀蟽委伪 蟿慰蠀 蔚尉慰蠀蟽喂伪蟽蟿喂魏慰蠉 苇蟻纬慰蠀.
螒蠀蟿维 伪蟺位蠋蟼 蟽蔚 蟺蟻慰蠅胃慰蠉谓 渭蔚 伪蟺蠈位蠀蟿畏 伪魏蟻委尾蔚喂伪 蟽蟿畏谓 蟽蠀谓维蠁蔚喂伪 渭蔚蟿伪尉蠉 伪蠀蟿慰魏伪蟿伪蟺委蔚蟽畏蟼 魏伪喂 伪蠀蟿慰蟽蠀谓蟿萎蟻畏蟽畏蟼.
螆蟿蟽喂, 蟺伪蠉蔚喂蟼 谓伪 伪谓伪味畏蟿维蟼 蟿慰 胃蔚蠈, 伪谓萎魏蔚喂蟼 蟽蔚 蟽蠀位位慰纬喂魏苇蟼 魏慰喂谓蠅谓委蔚蟼 蠀蟺慰蟿苇位蔚喂伪蟼 魏伪喂 蔚尉伪谓伪纬魏伪蟽渭慰蠉 渭蔚 尾伪蟽喂魏蠈 蠂伪蟻伪魏蟿畏蟻喂蟽蟿喂魏蠈 蟿畏谓 伪未委蟽蟿伪魏蟿畏 伪未喂伪蠁慰蟻委伪 纬喂伪 蠈位伪.
螝喂 伪谓 魏维蟺慰喂伪 蟽蟿喂纬渭萎 纬慰谓伪蟿委蟽蔚喂蟼 蟽蟿慰 渭谓萎渭伪 蟿慰蠀 胃蔚慰蠉 魏伪喂 蟽慰魏伪蟻喂蟽蟿蔚委蟼 伪蟺慰 蟿伪 渭谓畏渭蔚委伪 蔚尉蠈谓蟿蠅蟽畏蟼 蟺慰蠀 蟽蟿慰位委味慰蠀谓 蟿慰谓 魏蠈蟽渭慰 蟽慰蠀, 蟿蠈蟿蔚 蟺慰蠀 伪喂蟽胃维谓蔚蟽伪喂 蟿畏谓 伪谓蠀蟺伪蟻尉委伪 蟿畏蟼 胃蔚蠆魏萎蟼 尾慰萎胃蔚喂伪蟼, 渭伪 伪谓伪味畏蟿维蟼 慰蠀蟻位喂维味慰谓蟿伪蟼 蟿畏谓 伪谓胃蟻蠋蟺喂谓畏 蟺伪蟻苇渭尾伪蟽畏, 蟿蠈蟿蔚 蟿蟻蔚位伪委谓蔚蟽伪喂.
韦慰 蔚蟻蠋蟿畏渭伪 渭蟺蟻慰蟽蟿维 蟽蟿喂蟼 蔚蟺喂蟿蠉渭尾喂蔚蟼 蟺位维魏蔚蟼 蟿畏蟼 蠀蠁畏位委慰蠀, 蟽蔚 蠈位蔚蟼 蟿喂蟼 喂蟽蟿慰蟻喂魏苇蟼 蟺蔚蟻喂蠈未慰蠀蟼 伪位位维味蔚喂 蠀蟺蠈蟽蟿伪蟽畏, 伪位位维味蔚喂 蠀蟺慰魏蔚委渭蔚谓慰, 伪谓蟿喂魏蔚委渭蔚谓慰 魏伪喂 魏伪蟿畏纬慰蟻慰蠉渭蔚谓慰, 纬委谓蔚蟿伪喂 蟽慰魏伪蟻喂蟽蟿喂魏维 魏伪蟿伪谓慰畏蟿蠈.
螖蔚谓 蟻蠅蟿维渭蔚 蟺位苇慰谓 蟺慰蠉 萎蟿锟斤拷谓 慰 螛蔚蠈蟼 渭蟺蟻慰蟽蟿维 蟽蟿畏 谓慰蟽畏蟻萎 魏蠈位伪蟽畏 蟿畏蟼 蟺伪谓伪谓胃蟻蠋蟺喂谓畏蟼 蟿蟻伪纬蠅未委伪蟼, 伪位位维 蟺慰蠉 萎蟿伪谓 慰 螁谓胃蟻蠅蟺慰蟼, 慰喂 螁谓胃蟻蠅蟺慰喂... 纬喂伪 谓伪 伪蟺慰蟿蟻苇蠄慰蠀谓, 谓伪 蟽蠋蟽慰蠀谓 谓伪 尾慰畏胃萎蟽慰蠀谓.
螖蔚谓 蠀蟺维蟻蠂蔚喂 伪蟺维谓蟿畏蟽畏, 魏喂 蠈蟺慰喂慰蟼 蟿畏 尾蟻萎魏蔚, 蟺蟻慰蟿委渭畏蟽蔚 谓伪 尉蔚蠂维蟽蔚喂 蟺蟻喂谓 伪蠀蟿慰魏蟿慰谓萎蟽蔚喂.
螆蟿蟽喂, 尾伪未委味蔚喂 慰 Styron 渭苇蟽伪 蟽蟿畏谓 喂蟽蟿慰蟻委伪 蟿慰蠀, 渭蔚 谓慰蟽畏蟻苇蟼 胃蔚渭伪蟿喂魏苇蟼 魏伪喂 蔚魏魏位萎蟽蔚喂蟼 蟺蟻慰蟼 蟿畏谓 伪谓胃蟻蠋蟺喂谓畏 蟽蠀谓蔚委未畏蟽畏. 螒蟺慰魏伪位蠉蟺蟿蔚喂, 蔚尉伪喂蟻蔚委, 蟺伪蟻伪位位畏位委味蔚喂, 魏伪蟿伪纬蟻维蠁蔚喂 魏伪喂 伪蠁畏纬蔚委蟿伪喂, 渭蔚 伪谓伪蠁慰蟻苇蟼 魏伪喂 蟽蟿慰喂蠂蔚委伪 蟿蠅谓 蟺喂慰 苇谓蟿慰谓蠅谓 蟽蠀谓伪喂蟽胃畏渭维蟿蠅谓, 魏伪蟿伪蟽蟿维蟽蔚蠅谓, 纬蔚纬慰谓蠈蟿蠅谓 魏伪喂 蟺蟻维尉蔚蠅谓 蟿畏蟼 蠁蠀位萎蟼 蟿蠅谓 蠈谓蟿蠅谓 渭蔚 谓慰蠀 魏伪喂 蠄蠀蠂萎.
螝伪渭委伪 未喂伪蠁慰蟻维 伪谓维渭蔚蟽伪 蟽蟿慰蠀蟼 谓苇纬蟻慰蠀蟼 蟽魏位维尾慰蠀蟼 蟿畏蟼 螒渭蔚蟻喂魏萎蟼 蟿慰蠀 伪纬蟻慰蟿喂魏慰蠉 谓蠈蟿慰蠀 魏伪喂 蟿蠅谓 胃蠀渭维蟿蠅谓 蟿蠅谓 谓伪味委. 螚 蠁蠀位萎 魏伪喂 畏 蟺委蟽蟿畏, 畏 魏位畏蟻慰谓慰渭喂维 蟿畏蟼 未慰蠀位蔚委伪蟼 魏伪喂 蟿慰蠀 蟻伪蟿蟽喂蟽渭慰蠉, 慰 螔慰蟻蟻维蟼 魏伪喂 慰 螡蠈蟿慰蟼, 慰喂 螘尾蟻伪委慰喂 魏伪喂 慰喂 蠁伪蟽委蟽蟿蔚蟼, 畏 畏胃喂魏萎 蟺喂魏蟻委伪 魏伪喂 畏 蟽蔚尉慰蠀伪位喂魏萎 伪蟺蔚位蔚蠀胃苇蟻蠅蟽畏, 畏 蟺蟻蠈魏位畏蟽畏 纬喂伪 味蠅萎 魏伪喂 慰喂 胃蟻畏蟽魏蔚蠀蟿喂魏苇蟼 蟺蔚蟺慰喂胃萎蟽蔚喂蟼. 螣 苇蟻蠅蟿伪蟼 魏伪喂 畏 蟽蠂喂味慰蠁蟻苇谓蔚喂伪 蟿畏蟼 位慰纬喂魏萎蟼, 蟿蟻伪蠉渭伪蟿伪, 蔚渭蟺蔚喂蟻委蔚蟼, 伪喂蟽胃萎渭伪蟿伪, 渭蠉畏蟽畏, 蔚蟺喂位慰纬萎, 胃蟻委伪渭尾慰蟼, 蟺伪蟻维谓慰喂伪.
螜蟽慰未蠉谓伪渭伪 渭蔚纬苇胃畏 魏伪魏慰蠉 蟽蔚 魏维胃蔚 蠂蠋蟻伪, 蟽蔚 魏维胃蔚 纬蠅谓喂维 蠁蠀蟽喂魏萎蟼 谓慰渭慰蟿苇位蔚喂伪蟼.
危蟿畏谓 蟺蟻伪纬渭伪蟿喂魏蠈蟿畏蟿伪 慰 蟽蠀纬纬蟻伪蠁苇伪蟼 渭蔚蟿伪未委未蔚喂 喂蟽蟿慰蟻委伪 渭慰蟻蠁慰蟺慰喂畏渭苇谓畏 蟽蔚 蠂伪蟻伪魏蟿萎蟻蔚蟼.
螝蠀蟻喂慰位蔚魏蟿喂魏维, 蠂蟿委味蔚喂 蠈位蔚蟼 蟿喂蟼 维蟻蟻蠅蟽蟿蔚蟼 蟿蔚位蔚喂蠈蟿畏蟿蔚蟼 蟺慰蠀 魏伪蟿伪位萎纬慰蠀谓 蟽蔚 魏维胃蔚 蔚位位畏谓喂魏萎 伪蟻蠂伪委伪 蟿蟻伪纬蠅未委伪 蟺慰蠀 蟿慰 蟺伪蟻蔚位胃蠈谓 魏蟻苇渭蔚蟿伪喂 伪蟺蔚喂位畏蟿喂魏维 蟺维谓蠅 伪蟺慰 蟿畏谓 伪蠁萎纬畏蟽畏.
螣喂 蟺蟻蠅蟿伪纬蠅谓喂蟽蟿苇蟼 蟿慰蠀 尾喂尾位委慰蠀 蔚委谓伪喂 纬蠀渭谓慰委 蔚蟽蠅蟿蔚蟻喂魏维 魏伪喂 蔚尉蠅蟿蔚蟻喂魏维, 味慰蠀谓, 蠀蟺维蟻蠂慰蠀谓, 蟺慰蟻蔚蠉慰谓蟿伪喂, 伪纬伪蟺喂慰蠉谓蟿伪喂, 未畏渭喂慰蠀蟻纬慰蠉谓 伪谓蔚尉委蟿畏位蔚蟼 喂蟽蟿慰蟻委蔚蟼.
螘委谓伪喂 蟺伪纬喂未蔚蠀渭苇谓慰喂, 未喂蟺慰位喂魏维 胃伪蠀渭维蟽喂伪 胃蠉渭伪蟿伪 蟽蟿慰 尾蠅渭蠈 蟿畏蟼 蔚谓慰蠂萎蟼 蟿慰蠀 蔚蟺喂味蠋谓蟿蠅谓.
危蠀谓蟿蔚蟿蟻喂渭渭苇谓慰喂 魏伪喂 谓喂魏畏蟿苇蟼 蟽蔚 苇谓伪谓 蠂伪渭苇谓慰 伪纬蠋谓伪, 蔚蟺喂渭苇谓慰蠀谓 谓伪 蔚蟺喂蟺位苇慰蠀谓 蟺位萎蟻蠅蟼 蟽蟿畏谓 未喂魏萎 蟿慰蠀蟼 蟺慰渭蟺蠋未畏, 伪蠀蟿伪蟻蠂喂魏萎 蔚蟺喂胃蠀渭委伪. 危蟿畏谓 未喂魏萎 蟿慰蠀蟼 蔚蟺喂位慰纬萎 ...螒蠀蟿慰委 蔚委谓伪喂 蟺蟻伪纬渭伪蟿喂魏慰委 维谓胃蟻蠅蟺慰喂 蟺慰蠀 味慰蠀谓 伪谓慰喂蠂蟿维 魏维蟿蠅 伪蟺慰 蟿畏 蟽魏喂维 蟿畏蟼 位萎胃畏蟼 魏伪喂 蟿蠅谓 蟺蔚蟻喂慰蟻喂蟽渭蠋谓 蟿慰蠀蟼.
螞苇谓蔚 蟿喂蟼 喂蟽蟿慰蟻委蔚蟼 蟿慰蠀蟼, 蟿喂蟼 味慰蠀谓 蟺蟻蠅蟿伪纬蠅谓喂蟽蟿喂魏维 魏伪喂 畏 未蠉谓伪渭畏 伪蠀蟿慰蠉 蟿慰蠀 尾喂尾位委慰蠀 苇纬魏蔚喂蟿伪喂 蟽蟿慰 纬蔚纬慰谓蠈蟼 蟺蠅蟼 渭苇蟽伪 伪蟺慰 伪蠀蟿苇蟼 蟿喂蟼 喂蟽蟿慰蟻委蔚蟼 位苇纬蔚蟿伪喂 魏伪喂 畏 喂蟽蟿慰蟻委伪 蟿慰蠀 魏伪胃蔚谓蠈蟼 渭伪蟼.
螆谓伪 蟺蠀魏谓慰纬蟻伪渭渭苇谓慰 渭蠀胃喂蟽蟿蠈蟻畏渭伪, 渭蔚 尾伪胃蠉 蔚尉蔚蟻蔚蠀谓畏蟿喂魏蠈 苇蟻纬慰 蟽蟿畏谓 蠀蟺慰尾维胃渭喂蟽畏 蟿畏蟼 伪谓胃蟻蠋蟺喂谓畏蟼 味蠅萎蟼.
螆谓伪蟼 未喂伪位慰纬喂蟽渭蠈蟼 纬喂伪 蟿慰 魏蔚谓蟿蟻喂魏蠈 魏伪魏蠈 蟿慰蠀 伪喂蠋谓伪 蟺慰蠀 蟺苇蟻伪蟽蔚 渭苇蟽蠅 蟿蟻喂蠋谓 蠂伪蟻伪魏蟿萎蟻蠅谓. 螠苇蟽伪 伪蟺慰 蟿蟻蔚喂蟼 蠂伪蟻伪魏蟿萎蟻蔚蟼 纬蔚谓谓喂慰蠉谓蟿伪喂 维蟺蔚喂蟻蔚蟼 喂蟽蟿慰蟻委蔚蟼 蟽蔚 未喂伪蠁慰蟻蔚蟿喂魏维 蠂蠅蟻慰蠂蟻慰谓喂魏维 蟽畏渭蔚委伪.
违蠁伪委谓慰谓蟿伪喂 伪谓伪渭谓萎蟽蔚喂蟼 魏伪喂 蔚喂魏蠈谓蔚蟼 渭蔚 魏慰喂谓蠈 蟺伪蟻慰谓慰渭伪蟽蟿萎 蟿畏 蠁蟻委魏畏, 蟿慰 渭委蟽慰蟼, 蟿畏谓 蔚尉维蟻蟿畏蟽畏 魏伪喂 蟿畏谓 伪蟺慰未慰蠂萎 蟿畏蟼 蠁喂位慰蟽慰蠁委伪蟼 纬喂伪 蔚蟺喂未喂蠋尉蔚喂蟼 芦韦蔚位喂魏蠋谓 螞蠉蟽蔚蠅谓禄.
螚 蟺伪蟻伪尾委伪蟽畏 蟿畏蟼 伪谓胃蟻蠋蟺喂谓畏蟼 味蠅萎蟼, 慰喂 蔚蟺喂位慰纬苇蟼 蟺慰蠀 蟽蔚 蟿蠀位委纬慰蠀谓 蟽伪谓 蟿伪 蟺伪纬蠅渭苇谓伪 蟻慰蠉蠂伪 蟿畏蟼 位蠀蟿蟻蠅蟿喂魏萎蟼 维纬蟻喂伪蟼 蠄蔚蠀蟿喂维蟼, 畏 谓委魏畏 蟿慰蠀 蠁伪蟽喂蟽渭慰蠉 蟽蔚 魏维胃蔚 苇魏蠁伪谓蟽畏, 魏伪蟿伪未蔚喂魏谓蠉蔚喂 慰未蠀谓畏蟻维 蟺蠅蟼 蔚蟺喂魏蟻伪蟿慰蠉谓 蟺维谓蟿伪 蟿伪 蔚蟺伪魏蠈位慰蠀胃伪 伪蟺慰 魏维胃蔚 慰位慰魏伪蠉蟿蠅渭伪 蟺慰蠀 未喂苇蟺蟻伪尉蔚 魏伪喂 蔚蟺苇蟿蟻蔚蠄蔚 畏 伪谓胃蟻蠅蟺蠈蟿畏蟿伪. 韦慰蟽慰 蟽蔚 蟽蠀位位慰纬喂魏蠈 蠈蟽慰 魏伪喂 蟽蔚 蟺蟻慰蟽蠅蟺喂魏蠈 蔚蟺委蟺蔚未慰.
螚 蔚蟺喂位慰纬萎 蟿畏蟼 危蠈蠁喂!
螤蠈蟽慰 蟺喂慰 蟽蟺伪蟻伪尉喂魏维蟻未喂伪 魏伪喂 慰未蠀谓畏蟻萎 胃伪 渭蟺慰蟻慰蠉蟽蔚 谓伪 蔚委谓伪喂 伪蠀蟿萎 畏 芦蔚蟺喂位慰纬萎禄, 蟺蠈蟽慰 伪未喂伪谓蠈畏蟿畏 魏伪喂 蔚蠁喂伪位蟿喂魏萎, 蔚喂位喂魏蟻喂谓维 未蔚谓 蟿慰 蠂蠅蟻维蔚喂 伪谓胃蟻蠋蟺喂谓慰蟼 谓慰蠀蟼.
螘委谓伪喂 伪蠀蟿萎 畏 蔚蟺喂位慰纬萎 蟺慰蠀 未蔚谓 蠂伪蟻委味蔚蟿伪喂 蟽蔚 蠈位慰蠀蟼, 蟺慰蠀 蟽慰蠀 蟿蠀蠂伪委谓蔚喂 渭蠈谓慰 伪谓 伪谓萎魏蔚喂蟼 蟽蟿慰蠀蟼 喂蔚蟻维 魏伪蟿伪蟻伪渭苇谓慰蠀蟼, 蟽蟿慰蠀蟼 伪纬蠅谓喂蟽蟿苇蟼 蟿慰蠀 伪未喂伪谓蠈畏蟿慰蠀, 蟽蟿畏谓 蠉蟺伪蟻尉畏 蟿慰蠀 魏伪胃伪蟻慰蠉 魏伪魏慰蠉, 蟽蔚 伪蠀蟿慰蠉蟼 蟺慰蠀 未喂未维蠂蟿畏魏伪谓 蟿慰 蟽魏慰蟿维未喂, 蟿畏谓 蔚蠀胃蟻伪蟽蟿蠈蟿畏蟿伪 魏伪喂 蟿畏 未蠉谓伪渭畏 蟿畏蟼 伪谓胃蟻蠋蟺喂谓畏蟼 蠄蠀蠂萎蟼.
螒谓 魏维谓蔚喂蟼 蟿畏谓 芦蔚蟺喂位慰纬萎禄 伪谓伪蟺蠈蠁蔚蠀魏蟿伪 胃蟻喂伪渭尾蔚蠉蔚喂 畏 蟺伪蟻伪蟺位维谓畏蟽畏 蟿畏蟼 魏伪蟿伪未喂魏伪蟽渭苇谓畏蟼 蔚位蟺委未伪蟼 魏伪喂 畏 蟺伪蟻维谓慰喂伪. 韦慰 蟽委纬慰蠀蟻慰 蔚喂谓伪喂 蟺蠅蟼 伪谓 尾蟻蔚胃蔚委蟼 渭蟺蟻慰蟽蟿维 蟽蔚 伪蠀蟿萎 蟿畏谓 蔚蟺喂位慰纬萎 尾蠀胃委味蔚蟽伪喂 蔚魏慰蠉蟽喂伪 蟽蔚 渭喂伪 蔚蟻蔚尾蠋未畏 位畏蟽渭慰谓喂维 魏伪喂 未蔚谓 尉苇蟻蔚喂蟼 伪谓 蠂维胃畏魏蔚蟼 渭苇蟽伪 蟽蟿慰谓 委未喂慰 蟽慰蠀 蟿慰谓 蔚伪蠀蟿蠈 萎 伪谓 蟺苇蟻伪蟽蔚蟼 蟽蟿畏谓 伪纬魏伪位喂维 蟿慰蠀 胃伪谓维蟿慰蠀. 螁位位蠅蟽蟿蔚 蔚委蟽伪喂 蟽蟿畏谓 伪谓蠀蟺伪蟻尉委伪, 蠈蟽慰 魏喂 伪谓 慰蠀蟻位喂维味蔚喂蟼 魏伪谓蔚委蟼 未蔚谓 胃伪 蟽蔚 伪魏慰蠉蟽蔚喂, 魏喂 伪谓 伪魏慰蠀蟽蟿蔚委蟼 蔚喂谓伪喂 渭维蟿伪喂慰, 畏 芦蔚蟺喂位慰纬萎禄 苇蠂蔚喂 纬委谓蔚喂. 螝维蟺蠅蟼 苇蟿蟽喂 苇蟻蠂蔚蟿伪喂 畏 蟺蔚蟻喂未委谓畏蟽畏 魏伪喂 蟿慰 苇谓伪 魏伪蟿伪蟻伪渭苇谓慰 纬蔚纬慰谓蠈蟼 渭蔚蟿维 蟿慰 维位位慰.
螖蔚谓 蔚委渭伪喂 蟽蔚 胃苇蟽畏 谓伪 蔚谓蟿维尉蠅 伪蠀蟿蠈 蟿慰 伪蟻喂蟽蟿慰蠉蟻纬畏渭伪 蟽蔚 魏维蟺慰喂伪 魏伪蟿畏纬慰蟻委伪.
韦慰 渭蔚纬伪位蔚委慰 蟿慰蠀 蠁伪谓蔚蟻蠋谓蔚喂 蟿伪 渭蠀蟽蟿喂魏维 蟿慰蠀 蟽蟿伪未喂伪魏维 蟽伪谓 谓伪 尉蔚蠁位慰蠀未委味蔚蟿伪喂 畏 渭委伪 蔚蟺喂蠁维谓蔚喂伪 魏维蟿蠅 伪蟺慰 蟿畏谓 维位位畏.
螣 蠀蟺伪喂谓喂纬渭蠈蟼 蟿畏蟼 蠁蟻委魏畏蟼 魏伪喂 蟿慰蠀 魏伪蟿伪蟻伪渭苇谓慰蠀 苇蟻蠅蟿伪 伪蟺慰魏伪位蠉蟺蟿蔚蟿伪喂 蔚尉 伪蟻蠂萎蟼, 渭伪 畏 苇谓蟿伪蟽畏, 畏 蔚尉苇位喂尉畏, 魏伪喂 慰喂 伪蟺慰魏伪位蠉蠄蔚喂蟼 胃蔚蟻渭伪委谓慰谓蟿伪喂 魏伪喂 尾伪胃伪委谓慰蠀谓 魏伪胃蠋蟼 慰 伪谓伪纬谓蠋蟽蟿畏蟼 纬谓蠅蟻委味蔚喂 魏伪位蠉蟿蔚蟻伪 蟿慰蠀蟼 伪谓胃蟻蠋蟺慰蠀蟼.
螤蟻蠈魏蔚喂蟿伪喂 纬喂伪 苇谓伪 渭蠀胃喂蟽蟿蠈蟻畏渭伪 味蠅萎蟼, 蟺慰蠀 喂蟽慰蟻蟻慰蟺蔚委 蟽蔚 渭喂伪 蟽蟿喂纬渭萎 蟺伪纬喂未蔚蠀渭苇谓畏 伪蟺慰 蟿伪 蟿蟻伪蠉渭伪蟿伪 蟿慰蠀 蟺伪蟻蔚位胃蠈谓蟿慰蟼 魏伪喂 未喂蠂伪蟽渭苇谓畏 伪蟺慰 蟿畏谓 伪尾蔚尾伪喂蠈蟿畏蟿伪 蟿慰蠀 渭苇位位慰谓蟿慰蟼. 螠喂伪 蟺慰位位伪蟺位萎 蟺蟻慰慰蟺蟿喂魏萎 蟽蔚 苇谓伪 畏胃喂魏蠈 蟺蟻委蟽渭伪 蟺慰蠀 未喂伪蠂蠅蟻委味蔚喂 慰位伪 蟿伪 蔚委未畏 蟿蠅谓 胃蔚渭维蟿蠅谓 蟿畏蟼 味蠅萎蟼.
螠喂伪 芦蔚蟺喂位慰纬萎禄 渭蔚蟿维 蟿畏谓 慰蟺慰委伪 未蔚谓 蠁慰尾维蟽伪喂. 螣 渭蠈谓慰蟼 蟿蟻蠈蟺慰蟼 纬喂伪 谓伪 蔚尉伪蟻纬蠀蟻蠋蟽蔚喂蟼 蟿畏谓 蟺喂慰 蟿蟻慰渭蔚蟻萎 蔚蟺喂位慰纬萎 蟿畏蟼 味蠅萎蟼 蟽慰蠀 蔚委谓伪喂 谓伪 伪魏慰位慰蠀胃萎蟽蔚喂蟼 蠈蟺慰喂慰谓 未蔚谓 蟽慰蠀 蠀蟺蠈蟽蠂蔚蟿伪喂 蟿委蟺慰蟿伪 蟺伪蟻维 胃维谓伪蟿慰.
* 螒谓 蠁蟿维蟽伪蟿蔚 蠅蟼 蔚未蠋 未喂伪尾维味慰谓蟿伪蟼 蟿畏谓 魏蟻喂蟿喂魏萎 渭慰蠀 蟽伪蟼 蔚蠀蠂伪蟻喂蟽蟿蠋 伪蟺慰 魏伪蟻未喂维蟼.
螒谓 蠁慰尾畏胃萎魏伪蟿蔚 蟿慰 蟽蔚谓蟿蠈谓喂 蟺慰蠀 伪谓维蟻蟿畏蟽伪 魏伪喂 伪蟺位蠋蟼 蟻委尉伪蟿蔚 渭喂伪 渭伪蟿喂维 魏伪喂 蟺维位喂 蟽伪蟼 蔚蠀蠂伪蟻喂蟽蟿蠋.
螒谓 未蔚谓 蟿畏 未喂伪尾维蟽伪蟿蔚 魏伪谓 蟽伪蟼 伪纬伪蟺蠋. 螝伪喂 蟽伪蟼 蠀蟺蠈蟽蠂慰渭伪喂 谓伪 蔚委渭伪喂 蠈蟽慰 纬委谓蔚蟿伪喂 蟺喂慰 蟽蠉谓蟿慰渭畏 蟽蟿畏谓 纬蟻伪蟺蟿萎 苇魏蠁蟻伪蟽畏 魏伪喂 伪谓伪位蠀蟽畏 蟿蠅谓 伪谓伪纬谓蠅蟽蟿喂魏蠋谓 渭慰蠀 芦蔚蟺喂位慰纬蠋谓禄.
违危. 螌蟿伪谓 蟺蟻蠈魏蔚喂蟿伪喂 纬喂伪 蟿慰谓 蔚蟻蠅蟿喂蟽渭蠈 蟺慰蠀 渭慰蠀 蔚渭蟺谓苇慰蠀谓 蟿伪 尾喂尾位委伪 未蔚谓 蟿畏蟻蠋 蟽蠂蔚未蠈谓 蟺慰蟿苇 蟿喂蟼 蠀蟺慰蟽蠂苇蟽蔚喂蟼 渭慰蠀.
馃拵
螝伪位萎 伪谓维纬谓蠅蟽畏.
螤慰位位慰蠉蟼 伪蟽蟺伪蟽渭慰蠉蟼.
May 27, 2007
William Styron's "Sophie's Choice" has to stand as one of the 20th century's great American novels. Based very loosely on his own experiences in the late 1940s in New York, Styron makes himself into a writer called Stingo who moves into a boarding house in Brooklyn, where he meets a Polish emigr茅 named Sophie and her dangerously unpredictable lover, Nathan. With great delicacy and restraint, Styron traces the evolution of the friendship and love that entangles these three and which has stunning consequences.
For those who have only seen the 1985 movie starring Meryl Streep (and for which she deservedly won the Best Actress Oscar), do yourself a favor and read the book. The movie was indeed wonderful, but the book is so much richer and more detailed and Styron's mastery of this compelling narrative is marvelous to behold. For those who have NOT seen the film, you will assume that "Sophie's Choice" has to do with Nathan and Stingo. Heartbreakingly, it both does and does not.
Styron has an incredible gift for injecting humor into dark situations. He makes Stingo an inordinately horny, frustrated, pained, wise-cracking man in his early 20s--Stingo leaps off the pages as fully formed and utterly human. Nathan too, in a much different way, is three-dimensional and fiery with life. Sophie is rendered in more delicate tones than the two men, which makes the final chapters of the book all the more powerful. We see what she has withstood and what she has given up and it is inescapably heartbreaking.
The book's ending is utterly right and the inexorable product of all that has gone before it. Styron has taken an enormously complex panoply of subjects--young manhood, post-WWII New York, mental illness, obsession, guilt, and more--and structured them into one of the most un-put-downable novels you will ever read.
For those who have only seen the 1985 movie starring Meryl Streep (and for which she deservedly won the Best Actress Oscar), do yourself a favor and read the book. The movie was indeed wonderful, but the book is so much richer and more detailed and Styron's mastery of this compelling narrative is marvelous to behold. For those who have NOT seen the film, you will assume that "Sophie's Choice" has to do with Nathan and Stingo. Heartbreakingly, it both does and does not.
Styron has an incredible gift for injecting humor into dark situations. He makes Stingo an inordinately horny, frustrated, pained, wise-cracking man in his early 20s--Stingo leaps off the pages as fully formed and utterly human. Nathan too, in a much different way, is three-dimensional and fiery with life. Sophie is rendered in more delicate tones than the two men, which makes the final chapters of the book all the more powerful. We see what she has withstood and what she has given up and it is inescapably heartbreaking.
The book's ending is utterly right and the inexorable product of all that has gone before it. Styron has taken an enormously complex panoply of subjects--young manhood, post-WWII New York, mental illness, obsession, guilt, and more--and structured them into one of the most un-put-downable novels you will ever read.
September 29, 2014
Sophie's Choice: William Styron's Novel of Choices, Hobson's and Otherwise
This novel was chosen by members of On the Southern Literary Trail as a group read for September, 2014.
Sophie's Choice, First Ed., First Prtg., William Styron, Random House, New York, New York, 1979
The gate to Auschwitz, where those in charge choose who lives and who dies
Life is but a series of choices, is it not? Some easy, quickly made, given no further thought. Others are more difficult. We worry about the outcome, the consequences. After much thought, we arrive at a choice, live with it, find we worried over nothing, or become haunted by consequences we never envisioned. Call it free will.
When we are very young life is much simpler, is it not? Our decisions are made for us. By our parents, our caretakers. Perhaps caregivers sounds better. We do not know about the idea of free will, so we do not worry about it. We just take what comes. We are grateful if we have kind parents and caregivers. No, that's not right, we are simply happy because that is what we learn to expect. Many children learn to expect nothing good to happen. Neither the happy children or the sad children have a choice in the matter. It is simply the way it is.
A child who expected nothing good to happen, from the film "Schindler's List
But by deals with choices made principally by his title character in a setting where the choices are given under duress, which are choices not freely made, or choices which have no satisfactory outcome, the classic Hobson's choice. Sophie is an Aryan, not Jewish. However, she is Polish. The Nazi regime despises the Poles as they did the mentally ill, physically imperfect, the gypsies, homosexuals, and dissident intellectuals. All will go to the camps. And all will only leave up through the chimneys of the crematoria.
Styron's method of telling Sophie's story is a master stroke of plotting. Rather than resort to the omniscient "god" like narrator, Styron inserts himself into the story as his younger self. "Call me Stingo." Echoing the words of Herman Melville,"Call me Ishmael," Styron relates key facts of his life as a young manuscript reader at McGraw-Hill Publishing who aspires to become a writer. Following his brief stay there, he is terminated. He must move to more affordable lodging.
His search lands him in a boarding house in 1947 Brooklyn, a time when trees still grew there. The older Styron writes of himself as a younger more callow figure. Stingo tells us,
Oh, yes. Stingo is a Southerner. A Virginian, born and bred, with a degree from Duke University. Not only is he close to impoverished and lonesome, he is lonesome for female company. Among his scant belongings is an unopened box of condoms upon which he casts a wistful look from time to time.
Stingo's feverish libido is fired by the nightly sounds of unbridled and enthusiastic celebrations of the ars amatoria from the room above his. It is difficult to sleep, to even think. To write is impossible. Bed springs squeak and a head board beats against a wall with a steadily increasing rhythm. There are brief interludes of silence and then the sounds of the circle of life slowly begin again rising to crescendoing heights. It drives Stingo to distraction.
Then we meet the unabashed coupling couple. One Nathan Landau and Miss Sophie Zawistowska. Nathan is Jewish. Sophie is not. She is a Polish Catholic who survived internment at Auschwitz.
Stingo walks into the boarding house to find the couple arguing. Not all is well with the two lovers upstairs.
Then Nathan turned his attention on Stingo.
Odd, how those who are the targets of prejudice are among the most intolerant, is it not so?
Stingo immediately goes to comfort Sophie. However, his feelings are conflicted. Although his choice is to comfort her, his wish is to possess her. He is captured by her beauty. And Styron will make it clear through the novel that men are frequently drawn to Sophie by her beauty.
One important thing that the reader must realize is that Styron is dealing with two time frames. He is dealing with the present in which he is writing the book. He is dealing with the present of 1947 in which the action actually occurs. It is through this distancing that Styron is able to set up throughout the novel moments of foreshadowing. It must never be forgotten that Old Stingo/Styron knows how this tale ends. It is a flashback within a flashback.
Styron gradually reveals to us that Nathan Landau is brilliant, wealthy, but mentally ill. He is capable of great charm, care, and generosity. Nathan has chosen upon meeting Sophie who is still suffering from the after effects of her internment in Auschwitz to bring her back to health and save her life. He takes her to his brother Larry who is a physician who treats her and refers her to other physicians. Upon their meeting Sophie suffers from scurvy, has endured typhus, scarlet fever, and malnutrition. She has lost her teeth.
Nathan has provided perfect dentures for her. Clothing. Most important to Sophie, music in the form of the latest model phonograph and records, extremely expensive in that day. And Nathan restored her eroticism to her the sense of which was totally lost to her in Auschwitz.
Nathan will also make the positive choice to befriend Stingo. Stingo will become part of a threesome, included in Nathan's and Sophie's adventures. Nathan will come to praise Stingo's writing giving him the confidence to complete what will become his first novel, Styron's . The novels most charming moments are when the three are together on one of Nathan's elaborately planned adventures. It has the sense of Truffaut's "Jules et Jim."
Old Stingo will recall,
Oddly enough, Nathan's misgivings about Stingo were not totally inaccurate. Stingo has his share of Southern guilt with which to live. It seems that his family once had a slave named Artiste and he was put out to work. The value of that work was a large sum of money which came into his father's possession. His father sent Stingo his share of that burden of Southern history. It was that largesse that allowed him to continue to live in Brooklyn and write. The reveal of this information instantly brought a comparison of Stingo to Quentin Compson. "I don't hate it," Quentin said, quickly, at once, immediately; "I don't hate it," he said. "I don't hate it he thought, panting in the cold air, the iron New England dark: I don't. I don't! I don't hate it! I don't hate it!" , by .
Nathan chooses to self medicate with amphetamines and cocaine. An employee at Pfizer Laboratories, he easily obtains what he needs. The "Bennies" the cocaine make him fly. It is when he begins to crash that his Mr. Hyde personality appears. Sophie can only hope that barbiturates can ease him into sleep before he emotionally abuses her or physically harms her.
It is during those periods of time that Nathan abandons Sophie that Stingo becomes her confidant. Though she has lost her faith in the horror of Auschwitz, she treats Stingo as the priest in the confessional. Stingo is a safe confidant. John Steinbeck reminded us in , 鈥淧erhaps the best conversationalist in the world is the man who helps others to talk.鈥� Stingo helped Sophie to talk. It is in Sophie's narration to Stingo that we are gradually led to Sophie's Choice. Old Stingo/Styron repeatedly reveals bits and pieces that lead us to believe that it was horrible indeed. It was.
In a novel as dark as this a reader is grateful for any brief respite of humor. Styron provides it here in young Stingo's pursuit of sexual satisfaction. There is the divine Leslie Lapidus who loves to talk dirty, and can talk the talk with expertise but cannot bring herself to do the deed. She envisions Stingo with his Southern accent as some Cavalier officer of the Confederate army.
Then there's Sally Ann, the Baptist, she of the stalwart hand. She leaves Stingo wrung out like a limp wash rag. Stingo complains he could have done that better himself.
But we must return to Nathan, Sophie, Stingo, and Auschwitz.
The last time Nathan broke with reality, he threatened to murder Sophie and Stingo. He believed they had made love. He was wrong about that.
Stingo was determined to save Sophie from Nathan. He persuaded her to go with him to a farm owned by his father in Virginia. It was on that trip Sophie revealed her choice at Auschwitz. It was on that trip that Sophie made love to Stingo. And she asked if there was a Berlitz language school near there so she might learn to write in English.
This novel was chosen by members of On the Southern Literary Trail as a group read for September, 2014.
Sophie's Choice, First Ed., First Prtg., William Styron, Random House, New York, New York, 1979
The gate to Auschwitz, where those in charge choose who lives and who dies
Life is but a series of choices, is it not? Some easy, quickly made, given no further thought. Others are more difficult. We worry about the outcome, the consequences. After much thought, we arrive at a choice, live with it, find we worried over nothing, or become haunted by consequences we never envisioned. Call it free will.
When we are very young life is much simpler, is it not? Our decisions are made for us. By our parents, our caretakers. Perhaps caregivers sounds better. We do not know about the idea of free will, so we do not worry about it. We just take what comes. We are grateful if we have kind parents and caregivers. No, that's not right, we are simply happy because that is what we learn to expect. Many children learn to expect nothing good to happen. Neither the happy children or the sad children have a choice in the matter. It is simply the way it is.
A child who expected nothing good to happen, from the film "Schindler's List
But by deals with choices made principally by his title character in a setting where the choices are given under duress, which are choices not freely made, or choices which have no satisfactory outcome, the classic Hobson's choice. Sophie is an Aryan, not Jewish. However, she is Polish. The Nazi regime despises the Poles as they did the mentally ill, physically imperfect, the gypsies, homosexuals, and dissident intellectuals. All will go to the camps. And all will only leave up through the chimneys of the crematoria.
Styron's method of telling Sophie's story is a master stroke of plotting. Rather than resort to the omniscient "god" like narrator, Styron inserts himself into the story as his younger self. "Call me Stingo." Echoing the words of Herman Melville,"Call me Ishmael," Styron relates key facts of his life as a young manuscript reader at McGraw-Hill Publishing who aspires to become a writer. Following his brief stay there, he is terminated. He must move to more affordable lodging.
His search lands him in a boarding house in 1947 Brooklyn, a time when trees still grew there. The older Styron writes of himself as a younger more callow figure. Stingo tells us,
鈥淭o make matters worse, I was out of a job and had very little money and was self-exiled to Flatbush鈥攍ike others of my countrymen, another lean and lonesome Southerner wandering amid the Kingdom of the Jews.鈥�
Oh, yes. Stingo is a Southerner. A Virginian, born and bred, with a degree from Duke University. Not only is he close to impoverished and lonesome, he is lonesome for female company. Among his scant belongings is an unopened box of condoms upon which he casts a wistful look from time to time.
Stingo's feverish libido is fired by the nightly sounds of unbridled and enthusiastic celebrations of the ars amatoria from the room above his. It is difficult to sleep, to even think. To write is impossible. Bed springs squeak and a head board beats against a wall with a steadily increasing rhythm. There are brief interludes of silence and then the sounds of the circle of life slowly begin again rising to crescendoing heights. It drives Stingo to distraction.
Then we meet the unabashed coupling couple. One Nathan Landau and Miss Sophie Zawistowska. Nathan is Jewish. Sophie is not. She is a Polish Catholic who survived internment at Auschwitz.
Stingo walks into the boarding house to find the couple arguing. Not all is well with the two lovers upstairs.
At the house Sophie and Nathan were embroiled in combat just outside the door of my room...
"Don't give me any of that, you hear," I hear him yell. "You're a liar! You're a miserable lying cunt, do you hear me? A cunt!...[T]hat's what you are, you moron--a two-timing, double-crossing cunt! Spreading that twat of yours for a cheap, chiseling quack doctor. Oh, God!" he howled, and his voice rose in wild uncontained rage. "Let me out of here before I murder you--you whore!
Then Nathan turned his attention on Stingo.
"You're from the South," he said.. "Morris told me you were from the South. Said your name's Stingo. Yetta needs a Southerner in her house to fit in with all the other funnies...Too bad I won't be around for a lively conversation, but I'm getting out of here. It would have been nice to talk with you...We'd have had great fun, shootin' the shit, you and I. We could have talked about sports. I mean Southern sports. Like lynching niggers--or coons, I think you call them down there...Too bad. Old Nathan's got to hit the road. Maybe in another life, Cracker, we'll get together. So long, Cracker! See you in another life."
Odd, how those who are the targets of prejudice are among the most intolerant, is it not so?
Stingo immediately goes to comfort Sophie. However, his feelings are conflicted. Although his choice is to comfort her, his wish is to possess her. He is captured by her beauty. And Styron will make it clear through the novel that men are frequently drawn to Sophie by her beauty.
One important thing that the reader must realize is that Styron is dealing with two time frames. He is dealing with the present in which he is writing the book. He is dealing with the present of 1947 in which the action actually occurs. It is through this distancing that Styron is able to set up throughout the novel moments of foreshadowing. It must never be forgotten that Old Stingo/Styron knows how this tale ends. It is a flashback within a flashback.
Styron gradually reveals to us that Nathan Landau is brilliant, wealthy, but mentally ill. He is capable of great charm, care, and generosity. Nathan has chosen upon meeting Sophie who is still suffering from the after effects of her internment in Auschwitz to bring her back to health and save her life. He takes her to his brother Larry who is a physician who treats her and refers her to other physicians. Upon their meeting Sophie suffers from scurvy, has endured typhus, scarlet fever, and malnutrition. She has lost her teeth.
Nathan has provided perfect dentures for her. Clothing. Most important to Sophie, music in the form of the latest model phonograph and records, extremely expensive in that day. And Nathan restored her eroticism to her the sense of which was totally lost to her in Auschwitz.
Nathan will also make the positive choice to befriend Stingo. Stingo will become part of a threesome, included in Nathan's and Sophie's adventures. Nathan will come to praise Stingo's writing giving him the confidence to complete what will become his first novel, Styron's . The novels most charming moments are when the three are together on one of Nathan's elaborately planned adventures. It has the sense of Truffaut's "Jules et Jim."
Old Stingo will recall,
鈥淭here are friends one makes at a youthful age in whom one simply rejoices, for whom one possesses a love and loyalty mysteriously lacking in the friendships made in after-years, no matter how genuine.鈥�
Oddly enough, Nathan's misgivings about Stingo were not totally inaccurate. Stingo has his share of Southern guilt with which to live. It seems that his family once had a slave named Artiste and he was put out to work. The value of that work was a large sum of money which came into his father's possession. His father sent Stingo his share of that burden of Southern history. It was that largesse that allowed him to continue to live in Brooklyn and write. The reveal of this information instantly brought a comparison of Stingo to Quentin Compson. "I don't hate it," Quentin said, quickly, at once, immediately; "I don't hate it," he said. "I don't hate it he thought, panting in the cold air, the iron New England dark: I don't. I don't! I don't hate it! I don't hate it!" , by .
Nathan chooses to self medicate with amphetamines and cocaine. An employee at Pfizer Laboratories, he easily obtains what he needs. The "Bennies" the cocaine make him fly. It is when he begins to crash that his Mr. Hyde personality appears. Sophie can only hope that barbiturates can ease him into sleep before he emotionally abuses her or physically harms her.
It is during those periods of time that Nathan abandons Sophie that Stingo becomes her confidant. Though she has lost her faith in the horror of Auschwitz, she treats Stingo as the priest in the confessional. Stingo is a safe confidant. John Steinbeck reminded us in , 鈥淧erhaps the best conversationalist in the world is the man who helps others to talk.鈥� Stingo helped Sophie to talk. It is in Sophie's narration to Stingo that we are gradually led to Sophie's Choice. Old Stingo/Styron repeatedly reveals bits and pieces that lead us to believe that it was horrible indeed. It was.
In a novel as dark as this a reader is grateful for any brief respite of humor. Styron provides it here in young Stingo's pursuit of sexual satisfaction. There is the divine Leslie Lapidus who loves to talk dirty, and can talk the talk with expertise but cannot bring herself to do the deed. She envisions Stingo with his Southern accent as some Cavalier officer of the Confederate army.
鈥淚 mean, I don't know much about the Civil War, but whenever I think of that time鈥擨 mean, ever since Gone With the Wind I've had these fantasies about those generals, those gorgeous young Southern generals with their tawny mustaches and beards, and hair in ringlets, on horseback. And those beautiful girls in crinoline and pantalettes. You would never know that they ever fucked, from all you're able to read." She paused and squeezed my hand. "I mean, doesn't it just do something to you to think of one of those ravishing girls with that crinoline all in a fabulous tangle, and one of those gorgeous young officers鈥擨 mean, both of them fucking like crazy?"
"Oh yes," I said with a shiver, "oh yes, it does. It enlarges one's sense of history.鈥�
Then there's Sally Ann, the Baptist, she of the stalwart hand. She leaves Stingo wrung out like a limp wash rag. Stingo complains he could have done that better himself.
But we must return to Nathan, Sophie, Stingo, and Auschwitz.
The last time Nathan broke with reality, he threatened to murder Sophie and Stingo. He believed they had made love. He was wrong about that.
Stingo was determined to save Sophie from Nathan. He persuaded her to go with him to a farm owned by his father in Virginia. It was on that trip Sophie revealed her choice at Auschwitz. It was on that trip that Sophie made love to Stingo. And she asked if there was a Berlitz language school near there so she might learn to write in English.
"There are so many things that people still don't know about that place!" she said fiercely. "There are so many things I haven't even told you Stingo, and I've told you so much. You know, about how the whole place was covered with the smell of burning Jews, day and night. I've told you that. But I never even told you hardly anythng about Birkenau, when they begun to starve me to death and I go so sick I almost died...Or..." And here she paused, gazed into space, then said, "There are so many terrible things I could tell. But maybe I could write it as a novel, you see, if I learned to write English good, and then I could make people understood how the Nazis made you do things you never believed you could...I was so afraid! They made me afraid of everything! Why don't I tell the truth about myself? Why don't I write it down in a book that I was a terrible coward, that I was a filthy collaboratrice that I done everything that was bad just to save myself?" She made a savage moan, so loud above the racket of the train that heads turned nearby and eyes rolled. "Oh, Stingo, I can't stand living with these things!"
wrote in 鈥淭hose who have a 'why' to live, can bear with almost any 'how'.鈥� Perhaps Sophie lost her why at Auschwitz.
Birkenau: Those who do not have a why to live cannot bear any how. Is it not so?
Now we come to one Thomas Hobson who was an English Stable Keeper around 1600. He always required his customers to take the horse nearest the door or none at all. It came to be known as Hobson's choice, meaning what appears to be a free choice which offers no option at all. That was Sophie's choice. Was it not so?
Let us allow young Stingo to have the last word, shall we?鈥淪omeday I will understand Auschwitz. This was a brave statement but innocently absurd. No one will ever understand Auschwitz. What I might have set down with more accuracy would have been: Someday I will write about Sophie's life..., and thereby help demonstrate how absolute evil is never extinguished from the world. Auschwitz itself remains inexplicable. The most profound statement yet made about Auschwitz was not a statement at all, but a response.
The query: "At Auschwitz, tell me, where was God?"
And the answer: "Where was man?鈥�
I have mentioned the work of Viktor Frankl. This novel stands on equal footing with by , by , and by.
William Styron won the National Book Award for Fiction in 1980. He was a finalist for the National Critics Circle Award. However, reviews were mixed. Styron was criticized for having taken on a topic to huge to be taken on in any manner other than silence, ignoring earlier works in existence and widely recognized. A narrower criticism was based on Styron having selected a Polish Catholic as his central character as the Holocaust's purpose was deemed the extermination of the Jewish Race. Styron responded in an essay in the New York Times that the Holocaust transcended anti-Semitism, that 鈥渋ts ultimate depravity lay in the fact that it was anti-human,鈥� he wrote. 鈥淎nti-life.鈥�
All who suffered under the Third Reich suffered universally. Was it not so?
Other Materials
The Lebensborn Program
Old Stingo's Soundtrack for Sophie
This soundtrack is composed from the imagination of the author.
Elisaveth Schwarzkopff sings with Edwin Fischer Brahms 11 Lieder,
Mozart's Piano Concerto 27 in B Flat Major, his last Piano Concerto, composed in 1791, the year of his death.
J.S. Bach, CantataJesu, Joy of Man's Desiring, Leopold Stokowski, directing in 1992.
Now, the maturing Stingo builds his tribute.
Samuel Barber: Agnus Dei (Adagio for strings) Performed by the Choir of Trinity College, Cambridge, UK.
Puccini's Chrisantemi, the Chrysanthemums, an old piece but only recently rediscovered.
Aaron Copland. "Our Town."
October 22, 2017
鈥淏ecause I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.鈥� Emily Dickinson
Styron brings the Brooklyn of the forties and its flourishing intellectualism back to life through the eyes of three characters, whose irreconcilable pasts find a common ground in the sweeping vision of optimistic America, distancing the narrative from stereotyped clich茅s and with the inimitable diction of a true Southern voice.
A lush, descriptive prose soaked in an acerbic humorous tone with tinges of dark eroticism that partially conceals the profoundest of grief interweaves the ongoing contradictions of a Southerner鈥檚 life in the North and the collision between the remains of corrosive Puritanism and the rise of a newborn liberal society with intermittent and not always trustworthy flashbacks of mutilated lives and immeasurable suffering inflicted with perverse arbitrary during the Holocaust.
Sophie, a Polish Catholic seeking refuge in the plentiful land of opportunities after being released from Auschwitz, is plagued by guilt and self-condemnation for the 鈥渦nheroic鈥� choice of sticking to the leftovers of her life rather than risking it by being politically involved for the sake of human justice. Hers is tragic story mined with shame, fear and bewilderment over the aberrations perpetrated on her with no rational cause or logical explanation. Her sole crime: being at the wrong place at the wrong time. Her everlasting punishment: the unbearable loss impregnated with the odor of burning human flesh that chokes her faltering recollections of an irredeemable past that not even the possibility of a bright future can dissipate.
But when she crosses paths with Nathan, a mercurial charmer with a volatile mood and a brilliant mind who as a Jew regards himself as an authority on anguish and suffering, Sophie鈥檚 desolation dissolves into his frenetic lovemaking and obsessive tendencies. Nathan has chosen to make of collective calamity his personal crusade while prejudice runs ironically deep through his veins.
Stingo, an aspiring writer from Virginia and Styron鈥檚 alter-ego, witnesses Sophie and Nathan鈥檚 downfall and meta-narrates the doomed path they create with their decisions while nurturing a platonic adoration for this tormented woman who merely subsists in the sinister limbo provided by sexual obliteration, destructive self-loathing and auto-inflicted penitence.
鈥淭hat death-force is gone, finished, kaput! So now love me, Sophie. Love me. Love me! Love life!鈥� pleads a panicky Stingo trying to undo Sophie鈥檚 ultimate Choice and to urge her to listen to the plaintive melody of life that was silenced by the roaring devastation of war and unnameable monstrosity.
With composed momentum and exuberant phrasing pregnant with vivid literary and classical music references Styron directs a dichotomous dialogue between the fragile lightness of harmony and the aberrant darkness of mass destruction, the purgative power of love and the menace of its delirious addiction, the flickering candle of hope and the smothering smell of death.
Is life a hideous symphony played by the grotesque absurdity of serendipitous horror or the result of conscientious choices made in the fetid sinkhole of the world of the living dead, where waves of piercing agony wash all the recesses of memory, coming and going with the rhythm of cathartic writing?
How can those who survived the banality of evil endure the burden of the gift of life when so many perished amidst dehumanized barbarity?
Do individual choices matter in collective madness? When man is plunged into realms that transcend reason, sanity or faith and the very notion of existence becomes a ludicrous thought? When an unknown God turns his back on him and wipes out the flow of his love on all living things?
鈥淔or did not Auschwitz effectively block the flow of that titanic love, like some fatal embolism in the bloodstream of mankind鈥�?
Distilling on paper the very tissues of his own conflicted being, Styron navigates the murky waters of mankind鈥檚 soul and the virulent currents of its morality to confront individual choices versus collective responsibility and the catastrophic propensity of human beings to dominate each other that goes beyond circumstance, gender, nationalities or religion.
Did Sophie ever have a real choice?
She asks: 鈥淎t Auschwitz, tell me, where was God鈥�?
Styron replies: 鈥淲here was man?鈥�
I read to try to understand, but some things like the expendability of human life are inexplicable to me, yet I find solace in authors like Styron who made the choice of staring unblinkingly at the abyss of evilness and still found enough courage to exorcize pain through expiatory writing, which might eventually lead not to fruitless reproach but to collective healing, 鈥渆xcellent and fair鈥�, like the brand new morning.
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.鈥� Emily Dickinson
Styron brings the Brooklyn of the forties and its flourishing intellectualism back to life through the eyes of three characters, whose irreconcilable pasts find a common ground in the sweeping vision of optimistic America, distancing the narrative from stereotyped clich茅s and with the inimitable diction of a true Southern voice.
A lush, descriptive prose soaked in an acerbic humorous tone with tinges of dark eroticism that partially conceals the profoundest of grief interweaves the ongoing contradictions of a Southerner鈥檚 life in the North and the collision between the remains of corrosive Puritanism and the rise of a newborn liberal society with intermittent and not always trustworthy flashbacks of mutilated lives and immeasurable suffering inflicted with perverse arbitrary during the Holocaust.
Sophie, a Polish Catholic seeking refuge in the plentiful land of opportunities after being released from Auschwitz, is plagued by guilt and self-condemnation for the 鈥渦nheroic鈥� choice of sticking to the leftovers of her life rather than risking it by being politically involved for the sake of human justice. Hers is tragic story mined with shame, fear and bewilderment over the aberrations perpetrated on her with no rational cause or logical explanation. Her sole crime: being at the wrong place at the wrong time. Her everlasting punishment: the unbearable loss impregnated with the odor of burning human flesh that chokes her faltering recollections of an irredeemable past that not even the possibility of a bright future can dissipate.
But when she crosses paths with Nathan, a mercurial charmer with a volatile mood and a brilliant mind who as a Jew regards himself as an authority on anguish and suffering, Sophie鈥檚 desolation dissolves into his frenetic lovemaking and obsessive tendencies. Nathan has chosen to make of collective calamity his personal crusade while prejudice runs ironically deep through his veins.
Stingo, an aspiring writer from Virginia and Styron鈥檚 alter-ego, witnesses Sophie and Nathan鈥檚 downfall and meta-narrates the doomed path they create with their decisions while nurturing a platonic adoration for this tormented woman who merely subsists in the sinister limbo provided by sexual obliteration, destructive self-loathing and auto-inflicted penitence.
鈥淭hat death-force is gone, finished, kaput! So now love me, Sophie. Love me. Love me! Love life!鈥� pleads a panicky Stingo trying to undo Sophie鈥檚 ultimate Choice and to urge her to listen to the plaintive melody of life that was silenced by the roaring devastation of war and unnameable monstrosity.
With composed momentum and exuberant phrasing pregnant with vivid literary and classical music references Styron directs a dichotomous dialogue between the fragile lightness of harmony and the aberrant darkness of mass destruction, the purgative power of love and the menace of its delirious addiction, the flickering candle of hope and the smothering smell of death.
Is life a hideous symphony played by the grotesque absurdity of serendipitous horror or the result of conscientious choices made in the fetid sinkhole of the world of the living dead, where waves of piercing agony wash all the recesses of memory, coming and going with the rhythm of cathartic writing?
How can those who survived the banality of evil endure the burden of the gift of life when so many perished amidst dehumanized barbarity?
Do individual choices matter in collective madness? When man is plunged into realms that transcend reason, sanity or faith and the very notion of existence becomes a ludicrous thought? When an unknown God turns his back on him and wipes out the flow of his love on all living things?
鈥淔or did not Auschwitz effectively block the flow of that titanic love, like some fatal embolism in the bloodstream of mankind鈥�?
Distilling on paper the very tissues of his own conflicted being, Styron navigates the murky waters of mankind鈥檚 soul and the virulent currents of its morality to confront individual choices versus collective responsibility and the catastrophic propensity of human beings to dominate each other that goes beyond circumstance, gender, nationalities or religion.
Did Sophie ever have a real choice?
She asks: 鈥淎t Auschwitz, tell me, where was God鈥�?
Styron replies: 鈥淲here was man?鈥�
I read to try to understand, but some things like the expendability of human life are inexplicable to me, yet I find solace in authors like Styron who made the choice of staring unblinkingly at the abyss of evilness and still found enough courage to exorcize pain through expiatory writing, which might eventually lead not to fruitless reproach but to collective healing, 鈥渆xcellent and fair鈥�, like the brand new morning.
April 5, 2022
Devastating. That is the one word that comes to mind when trying to summarize the suffering that Sophie goes through during this book. I liked the narrator and detested Nathan, but the true story here is Sophie. Her experiences before and during WWII in Warsaw and Auschwitz are harrowing. Having visited Auschwitz two years ago, I think there was a little bit of inaccuracy as to what could be seen from Haus H枚ss (the Arbeit sign, for example, is not visible from that part of the compound to name one example). Nonetheless, the details about the life in the camp are realistic and align with the reading I have done (Primo Levi, Elie Weisel, etc) and is a gruesome reminded of why all forms of fascism should be condemned and fought tooth and nail in order to avoid a repeat of the brutality suffered by literally millions of Jews, Poles, gypsies, and homosexuals in the Nazi Death Camps.
-(some near spoilers ahead)-
I found the idea of the choices that Sophie makes during the book very poignant. There is something close to hopelessness when we see that each of her choices - whether she is trying to protect her children, or just one child, or to leave鈥� - are all ultimately the wrong choices because death follows nearly every time in one form or another. And yet, had she chosen otherwise, nothing would really have changed. I think the question comes down to whether Sophie is able to evolve from choice to choice, and I felt that the real tragedy here is that she does not evolve except that she is finally able to unburden her soul to Stingo before making her final choice. Styron is certainly showing us his own impuissance when faced with trying to understand and cope with the idea of a genocide that happened during his lifetime. The idea of the absurdity of simultaneity was really interesting in that sense, and he goes back to that several times.
As for the book, it is very well-written with some good stories and humor threw in towards the beginning of the book before it takes its tragic turn. It is written in a semi-autobiographical format and makes reference to this period when Styron really was working on his first book and looking forward to writing his third book about Nat Turner (for which he won the 1968 Pulitzer Prize).
The Academy Award-winning film from 1982 cast the effervescent Meryl Streep as a stunning and unforgettable Sophie with a young Kevin Klein in his first big-screen appearance as Nathan. It is very respectful of the bookmaking only minor editorial changes to fit the 35mm format. The viewer gets 2 1/2h of primarily staged sets, but a few sequences from a (rather inaccurate) depiction of Auschwitz. It is not the greatest film adaptation of a major novel (I would place Gone with the Wind, One Flew Over the Cuckoo鈥檚 Nest, and To Kill a Mockingbird above it), but it is an absolute classic and a must-see due to the over the top performance by the greatest actress of her generation, Meryl Streep.
-(some near spoilers ahead)-
I found the idea of the choices that Sophie makes during the book very poignant. There is something close to hopelessness when we see that each of her choices - whether she is trying to protect her children, or just one child, or to leave鈥� - are all ultimately the wrong choices because death follows nearly every time in one form or another. And yet, had she chosen otherwise, nothing would really have changed. I think the question comes down to whether Sophie is able to evolve from choice to choice, and I felt that the real tragedy here is that she does not evolve except that she is finally able to unburden her soul to Stingo before making her final choice. Styron is certainly showing us his own impuissance when faced with trying to understand and cope with the idea of a genocide that happened during his lifetime. The idea of the absurdity of simultaneity was really interesting in that sense, and he goes back to that several times.
As for the book, it is very well-written with some good stories and humor threw in towards the beginning of the book before it takes its tragic turn. It is written in a semi-autobiographical format and makes reference to this period when Styron really was working on his first book and looking forward to writing his third book about Nat Turner (for which he won the 1968 Pulitzer Prize).
The Academy Award-winning film from 1982 cast the effervescent Meryl Streep as a stunning and unforgettable Sophie with a young Kevin Klein in his first big-screen appearance as Nathan. It is very respectful of the bookmaking only minor editorial changes to fit the 35mm format. The viewer gets 2 1/2h of primarily staged sets, but a few sequences from a (rather inaccurate) depiction of Auschwitz. It is not the greatest film adaptation of a major novel (I would place Gone with the Wind, One Flew Over the Cuckoo鈥檚 Nest, and To Kill a Mockingbird above it), but it is an absolute classic and a must-see due to the over the top performance by the greatest actress of her generation, Meryl Streep.
December 24, 2020
I stuck with it out of curiosity, not so much to find out what her choice was, but because this is supposedly an important American novel and I kept waiting for the "Aha!" moment when it would finally get good. Unfortunately it was just way too long. I now know what it's like to suffer from too much foreshadowing. It was so tiresome reading hint after ominous hint about what was going to happen.
The narration was clumsy and over-explanatory. Do you really have to recap an event that you just narrated 50 pages anterior? Did Styron think the audience too dumb to remember the episode well enough to comprehend an explicit allusion or (god forbid) an oblique reference? Do you really have to hammer home over and over again how frustrated he is to not be having sex, just to build up one of the last scenes? I'll grant that it might have been intentional to create a narrator so unsympathetic and annoying, but the result was irritation and a strong urge to quit the book completely.
Another problem with the voice was Sophie's narrative about Auschwitz. There were several moments when you saw the quotes around the paragraphs, indicating she was talking, but it was grammatically perfect. It was, as I already said, clumsy, and I can only suppose it was poor planning. Styron clearly wanted to eat his cake and have it too.
There were some pretty passages mixed in. Most of the good stuff revolved around the Auschwitz narrative and the observations it afforded Styron to make about human nature and the nature of hellish war. There were some good analogies, particularly the rats-in-a-barrel (Jews) vs. rats-in-a-burning-building (all other victims).
Of course, this reaffirms my opinion that it could have been a much better book by cutting 2-300 pages. I'm just going to assume that most of the "staggering," and "masterful" touches to this work (two adjectives employed in the praise section of the edition I read) were over my head.
The narration was clumsy and over-explanatory. Do you really have to recap an event that you just narrated 50 pages anterior? Did Styron think the audience too dumb to remember the episode well enough to comprehend an explicit allusion or (god forbid) an oblique reference? Do you really have to hammer home over and over again how frustrated he is to not be having sex, just to build up one of the last scenes? I'll grant that it might have been intentional to create a narrator so unsympathetic and annoying, but the result was irritation and a strong urge to quit the book completely.
Another problem with the voice was Sophie's narrative about Auschwitz. There were several moments when you saw the quotes around the paragraphs, indicating she was talking, but it was grammatically perfect. It was, as I already said, clumsy, and I can only suppose it was poor planning. Styron clearly wanted to eat his cake and have it too.
There were some pretty passages mixed in. Most of the good stuff revolved around the Auschwitz narrative and the observations it afforded Styron to make about human nature and the nature of hellish war. There were some good analogies, particularly the rats-in-a-barrel (Jews) vs. rats-in-a-burning-building (all other victims).
Of course, this reaffirms my opinion that it could have been a much better book by cutting 2-300 pages. I'm just going to assume that most of the "staggering," and "masterful" touches to this work (two adjectives employed in the praise section of the edition I read) were over my head.
April 7, 2024
丕夭 丕蹖賳 鬲乇蹖亘賵賳 丕毓賱丕賲 賲蹖鈥屭┵嗁� 讴賴 毓丕卮賯 禺丕賱賯 賵 賲禺賱賵賯 丕孬乇 卮丿賲 賵 亘蹖鈥屫蹿� 丕夭 亘蹖鈥屫ㄘ屬勨€屫臂屬� 鬲噩乇亘賴鈥屬囏й� 禺賵丕賳卮賲 亘賵丿. 蹖賴 乇賵夭蹖貙 丨賯 賲胤賱亘 乇賵 丿乇 賯亘丕賱 丕蹖賳 賯賱賲 噩丕丿賵蹖蹖 丕丿丕 賲蹖鈥屭┵嗁�. 鬲丕 丕賵賳 乇賵夭貙 丕夭 賳爻禺賴鈥屰� 丕氐賱蹖 讴鬲丕亘 睾賮賱鬲 賳讴賳蹖丿 賵 丕賳诏賱蹖爻蹖 乇賵 亘賴 爻乇丨丿 讴賲丕賱 亘乇爻賵賳蹖丿. 丕蹖賳 讴鬲丕亘 丕乇夭卮卮 乇賵 丿丕乇賴.
April 26, 2016
The term 鈥淪ophie鈥檚 Choice,鈥� which derives from a critical plot point in William Styron鈥檚 eponymous novel, has become a prominent American idiom. You鈥檝e probably heard it in your daily life. It was the subject of a relatively well-received movie starring Meryl Streep. Certainly, you鈥檝e come across it if you鈥檙e a fan of The Simpsons. (A Sophie鈥檚 Choice joke is the kicker to Season 10, Episode 5鈥檚 鈥淲hen You Dish Upon a Star鈥�).
Despite its prevalence in the cultural landscape, I鈥檓 not going to assume you know the parameters of the choice. (I鈥檝e been wrong 鈥� cough Moby Dick cough 鈥� in my spoiler assumptions before). I will say, though, that knowing those details won鈥檛 in any way effect your enjoyment of this novel. I锟斤拷锟絭e known the twist for years; the mistake I made was in thinking it was the essence of Sophie鈥檚 Choice.
It is not.
Sophie鈥檚 Choice is nearly overwhelming. It is wildly ambitious, chronically unfocused, irritating and ostentatious, precisely detailed, overly-written, soaring, gutter-dwelling, psychologically acute, digressionary, complex, utterly narcissistic, and an absolute masterpiece.
This book is the best kind of sprawling mess there is. It is all over the place, as though Styron鈥檚 many and obvious talents just spilled out on the page and spread in every direction. This book made me laugh. It made me cringe. Part of it made me embarrassed for Styron (or the editor). Other parts made me extremely envious. Classics are usually works of art you must wrestle with. This is a classic.
The story is set in post-war New York City (beautifully wrought) in 1947. It is narrated in the first person by a young, transplanted southerner who calls himself Stingo. It bears mentioning, I suppose, that Stingo is a thinly veiled version of Styron himself. Like Styron, Stingo came north from the Tidewater to pursue writerly ambitions. Like Styron, Stingo works at McGraw-Hill. Both are terminated from that position by the same act of defiance. Stingo is working on a novel that bears more than a passing resemblance to Styron鈥檚 Lie Down in Darkness. Stingo also 鈥� no surprises here 鈥� is fascinated by Nat Turner, and eventually writes a novel about him.
Stingo 鈥� though not ever, I assume, Styron 鈥� meets two remarkable people while staying at a NYC boarding house. They are Nathan, a young, brilliant Jewish man who works at Pfizer; and Sophie, a Polish woman who survived the camp at Auschwitz.
From the start, Stingo is both intensely attracted to the couple (especially Sophie) and repelled by the violent tumultuousness they openly display. Living beneath them, he hears them making love and fighting, both with passionate intensity. Very shortly, he becomes obsessed with them.
The plot, such as it is, is the gradual revealing of the many secrets shared by Sophie and Nathan (including, obviously, Sophie鈥檚 titular selection). To say that things are moving towards a single dramatic peak, however, isn鈥檛 really accurate. This book is a meander more than anything, equal parts frustrating and breathtaking.
Early on, for instance, Stingo takes a fair amount of time to describe to us the publishing job 鈥� reading manuscripts and writing summaries 鈥� that he is shortly to lose. Included in these passages are a number of 鈥渆xcerpts鈥� from Stingo鈥檚 work product, highlighting Stingo鈥檚 darkly humorous critiques. What do these pages have to do with anything? Absolutely nothing. But that is the book鈥檚 modus. It goes where it wants, when it wants. Towards the end, right when the endgame begins, Stingo/Styron pulls back on the reins for a curious four-page interlude in which Stingo bemoans his courtship with Mary-Alice, a girl who only gave him hand-jobs (rest assured each hand-job is described).
Your tolerance, and response, to Sophie鈥檚 Choice is going to depend on your tolerance of Stingo. He is a navel gazer of the first order. There are dueling tragedies at play in this novel. First, the tragedy of the Holocaust, as symbolized by Sophie and Nathan. And second, the tragedy of Stingo鈥檚 virginity, represented by numerous lengthy set-pieces in which Stingo tries 鈥� but fails 鈥� to get laid.
All tragedy is local, I suppose.
It should also be noted that Stingo/Styron is among the more verbose storytellers you鈥檒l encounter. There is never a moment in this novel in which Styron uses one word when five words will do; for that matter, he won鈥檛 use one normal word when one obscure one can be used. (See, e.g., the use of avoirdupois).
The Confessions of Nat Turner is Styron鈥檚 most controversial novel, delving as it does into the mind of a slave. I鈥檝e only just started Confessions, but I cannot imagine it topping Sophie鈥檚 Choice is terms of sheer audacity. Many times while reading I actually paused to ponder: did he really just do that? The Holocaust within this novel鈥檚 world is just one of many realities that bleed into each other. Styron does make any effort to partition of the all-time deadly-serious Auschwitz scenes from the Stingo-is-sexually-frustrated scenes. Instead, Styron veers from one to the other with a cavalier sense of I don鈥檛 give a damn.
The passage of time allows for human tragedy to become literary drama. The Holocaust has not been immune to this. Even so, the friction between the fictional and real-life elements that Styron mixes is so jarring that it can uncomfortably draw attention to itself. There are two incredible, lengthy set pieces within Auschwitz, one of which includes a razor-intense encounter with Commandant Rudolf Hoess. There is also a marathon sex scene that goes on for three pages.
If this review seems conflicted, it鈥檚 because I am conflicted. I was conflicted while reading it. Page to page, my forbearance towards Styron spiked and dipped. When I put the book down, though, it didn't leave me right away. It lingered on into the next book I started, which felt pallid and lifeless after the lapel-grasping of Sophie鈥檚 Choice. This is a book that resonates. It is mad and loopy; it is powerful and passionate. It is the kind of book that I want to read again for the first time.
Despite its prevalence in the cultural landscape, I鈥檓 not going to assume you know the parameters of the choice. (I鈥檝e been wrong 鈥� cough Moby Dick cough 鈥� in my spoiler assumptions before). I will say, though, that knowing those details won鈥檛 in any way effect your enjoyment of this novel. I锟斤拷锟絭e known the twist for years; the mistake I made was in thinking it was the essence of Sophie鈥檚 Choice.
It is not.
Sophie鈥檚 Choice is nearly overwhelming. It is wildly ambitious, chronically unfocused, irritating and ostentatious, precisely detailed, overly-written, soaring, gutter-dwelling, psychologically acute, digressionary, complex, utterly narcissistic, and an absolute masterpiece.
This book is the best kind of sprawling mess there is. It is all over the place, as though Styron鈥檚 many and obvious talents just spilled out on the page and spread in every direction. This book made me laugh. It made me cringe. Part of it made me embarrassed for Styron (or the editor). Other parts made me extremely envious. Classics are usually works of art you must wrestle with. This is a classic.
The story is set in post-war New York City (beautifully wrought) in 1947. It is narrated in the first person by a young, transplanted southerner who calls himself Stingo. It bears mentioning, I suppose, that Stingo is a thinly veiled version of Styron himself. Like Styron, Stingo came north from the Tidewater to pursue writerly ambitions. Like Styron, Stingo works at McGraw-Hill. Both are terminated from that position by the same act of defiance. Stingo is working on a novel that bears more than a passing resemblance to Styron鈥檚 Lie Down in Darkness. Stingo also 鈥� no surprises here 鈥� is fascinated by Nat Turner, and eventually writes a novel about him.
Stingo 鈥� though not ever, I assume, Styron 鈥� meets two remarkable people while staying at a NYC boarding house. They are Nathan, a young, brilliant Jewish man who works at Pfizer; and Sophie, a Polish woman who survived the camp at Auschwitz.
From the start, Stingo is both intensely attracted to the couple (especially Sophie) and repelled by the violent tumultuousness they openly display. Living beneath them, he hears them making love and fighting, both with passionate intensity. Very shortly, he becomes obsessed with them.
The plot, such as it is, is the gradual revealing of the many secrets shared by Sophie and Nathan (including, obviously, Sophie鈥檚 titular selection). To say that things are moving towards a single dramatic peak, however, isn鈥檛 really accurate. This book is a meander more than anything, equal parts frustrating and breathtaking.
Early on, for instance, Stingo takes a fair amount of time to describe to us the publishing job 鈥� reading manuscripts and writing summaries 鈥� that he is shortly to lose. Included in these passages are a number of 鈥渆xcerpts鈥� from Stingo鈥檚 work product, highlighting Stingo鈥檚 darkly humorous critiques. What do these pages have to do with anything? Absolutely nothing. But that is the book鈥檚 modus. It goes where it wants, when it wants. Towards the end, right when the endgame begins, Stingo/Styron pulls back on the reins for a curious four-page interlude in which Stingo bemoans his courtship with Mary-Alice, a girl who only gave him hand-jobs (rest assured each hand-job is described).
Your tolerance, and response, to Sophie鈥檚 Choice is going to depend on your tolerance of Stingo. He is a navel gazer of the first order. There are dueling tragedies at play in this novel. First, the tragedy of the Holocaust, as symbolized by Sophie and Nathan. And second, the tragedy of Stingo鈥檚 virginity, represented by numerous lengthy set-pieces in which Stingo tries 鈥� but fails 鈥� to get laid.
All tragedy is local, I suppose.
It should also be noted that Stingo/Styron is among the more verbose storytellers you鈥檒l encounter. There is never a moment in this novel in which Styron uses one word when five words will do; for that matter, he won鈥檛 use one normal word when one obscure one can be used. (See, e.g., the use of avoirdupois).
The Confessions of Nat Turner is Styron鈥檚 most controversial novel, delving as it does into the mind of a slave. I鈥檝e only just started Confessions, but I cannot imagine it topping Sophie鈥檚 Choice is terms of sheer audacity. Many times while reading I actually paused to ponder: did he really just do that? The Holocaust within this novel鈥檚 world is just one of many realities that bleed into each other. Styron does make any effort to partition of the all-time deadly-serious Auschwitz scenes from the Stingo-is-sexually-frustrated scenes. Instead, Styron veers from one to the other with a cavalier sense of I don鈥檛 give a damn.
The passage of time allows for human tragedy to become literary drama. The Holocaust has not been immune to this. Even so, the friction between the fictional and real-life elements that Styron mixes is so jarring that it can uncomfortably draw attention to itself. There are two incredible, lengthy set pieces within Auschwitz, one of which includes a razor-intense encounter with Commandant Rudolf Hoess. There is also a marathon sex scene that goes on for three pages.
If this review seems conflicted, it鈥檚 because I am conflicted. I was conflicted while reading it. Page to page, my forbearance towards Styron spiked and dipped. When I put the book down, though, it didn't leave me right away. It lingered on into the next book I started, which felt pallid and lifeless after the lapel-grasping of Sophie鈥檚 Choice. This is a book that resonates. It is mad and loopy; it is powerful and passionate. It is the kind of book that I want to read again for the first time.
March 4, 2022
蹖讴 乇賵夭 丌卮賵蹖鬲爻 乇丕 丿乇讴 禺賵丕賴賲 讴乇丿. 丕蹖賳 噩賲賱賴鈥屰� 賲鬲賴賵乇丕賳賴 賵賱蹖 倬賵趩 亘賵丿. 賴蹖趩鈥屭┴� 丌卮賵蹖鬲爻 乇丕 丿乇讴 賳禺賵丕賴丿 讴乇丿. 丿乇爻鬲鈥屫� 丕蹖賳 亘賵丿 讴賴 亘賳賵蹖爻賲: 乇賵夭蹖 丿乇亘丕乇賴鈥屰� 夭賳丿诏蹖 賵 賲乇诏 爻賵賮蹖 禺賵丕賴賲 賳賵卮鬲 賵 賳卮丕賳 禺賵丕賴賲 丿丕丿 讴賴 趩胤賵乇 卮乇丕乇鬲 賲胤賱賯 賴乇诏夭 丕夭 乇賵蹖 夭賲蹖賳 賲丨賵 賳禺賵丕賴丿 卮丿.
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讴鬲丕亘 丕賳鬲禺丕亘 爻賵賮蹖 亘蹖鈥屫蹿� 蹖讴蹖 丕夭 讴鬲丕亘鈥屬囏й屰� 丕爻鬲 讴賴 賴蹖趩鈥屬堎傌� 丕夭 蹖丕丿 賳賲蹖鈥屫ㄘ辟�. 丕夭 賴賲賵賳 氐賮丨丕鬲 丕賵賱 讴賴 卮乇賵毓 亘賴 禺賵丕賳丿賳 讴乇丿 爻亘讴 賳賵卮鬲丕乇 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴 賲賳 噩匕亘 讴乇丿 賵 毓賱蹖鈥屫必嘿� 丨噩賲 亘丕賱丕蹖 讴鬲丕亘 (鄹郯鄱 氐賮丨賴) 夭賲蹖賳 诏匕丕卮鬲賳 丌賳 丨賯蹖賯鬲丕 亘乇丕蹖賲 爻禺鬲 亘賵丿.
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乇賵丕蹖鬲诏乇 倬爻乇蹖 亘蹖爻鬲 賵 丿賵 爻丕賱賴 丕爻鬲 讴賴 乇賵蹖丕蹖 賳賵蹖爻賳丿诏蹖 乇丕 丿乇 爻乇 丿丕乇丿. 丕爻鬲蹖賳诏賵 丕賴賱 賵蹖乇噩蹖賳蹖丕爻鬲. 丿乇 蹖讴蹖 丕夭 爻賮乇賴丕蹖卮 亘丕 爻賵賮蹖 賵 賳丕鬲丕賳 丌卮賳丕 賲蹖鈥屫促堌�. 爻賵賮蹖 丕夭 诏匕卮鬲賴鈥屰� 鬲賱禺 禺賵丿卮 賵 趩诏賵賳诏蹖 丌卮賳丕蹖蹖 亘丕 賳丕鬲丕賳 亘乇丕蹖 丕爻鬲蹖賳诏賵 賲蹖鈥屭堐屫� 賵 賴乇 賱丨馗賴 丕爻鬲蹖賳诏賵 亘蹖卮鬲乇 毓丕卮賯 爻賵賮蹖 賲蹖鈥屫促堌�. 賵賱蹖 丨賯丕蹖賯蹖 丕夭 夭賳丿诏蹖 爻賵賮蹖 乇賵 賲蹖鈥屫促堌� 讴賴 亘賵丿賳 丕賳鈥屬囏� 乇丕 亘丕 賴賲 睾蹖乇 賲賲讴賳 賲蹖鈥屫池ж藏� 讴賴 蹖讴蹖 丕夭 賲賴賲鈥屫臂屬� 丌賳鈥屬囏� 鬲噩乇亘賴鈥屰� 鬲賱禺 爻賵賮蹖 丿乇 丕乇丿賵诏丕賴鈥屬囏й� 鈥屬囏й� 丌卮賵蹖鬲爻 賵 丨囟賵乇 賳丕鬲丕賳 丿乇 夭賳丿诏蹖 丕賵爻鬲. 乇賲丕賳 賵賯丕蹖毓 鬲丕乇蹖禺蹖 賵 丕噩鬲賲丕毓蹖 丕夭 倬丕蹖丕賳 噩賳诏 賵 丌賳趩賴 亘乇 蹖賴賵丿蹖丕賳 賵 丨鬲蹖 睾蹖乇 蹖賴賵丿蹖丕賳 诏匕卮鬲賴 丕爻鬲貙 乇丕 亘蹖丕賳 賲蹖鈥屭┵嗀� 亘丕 賯賱賲蹖 乇賵丕賳 賵 噩匕丕亘 賵 诏蹖乇丕. 丿乇 賲丕噩乇丕蹖 讴鬲丕亘 亘蹖卮鬲乇 丕夭 丌賳鈥屭嗁� 讴賴 丕夭 賴賵賱賵讴丕爻鬲 賲蹖鈥屫堌з嗃屬� 亘賮賴賲蹖賲貨 亘丕 丕蹖賳 賲賵囟賵毓 賲賵丕噩賴蹖賲 讴賴 趩賴 亘乇 爻乇 睾蹖乇蹖賴賵丿蹖丕賳 丌賲丿賴.
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讴鬲丕亘 丕賳鬲禺丕亘 爻賵賮蹖 亘蹖鈥屫蹿� 蹖讴蹖 丕夭 讴鬲丕亘鈥屬囏й屰� 丕爻鬲 讴賴 賴蹖趩鈥屬堎傌� 丕夭 蹖丕丿 賳賲蹖鈥屫ㄘ辟�. 丕夭 賴賲賵賳 氐賮丨丕鬲 丕賵賱 讴賴 卮乇賵毓 亘賴 禺賵丕賳丿賳 讴乇丿 爻亘讴 賳賵卮鬲丕乇 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴 賲賳 噩匕亘 讴乇丿 賵 毓賱蹖鈥屫必嘿� 丨噩賲 亘丕賱丕蹖 讴鬲丕亘 (鄹郯鄱 氐賮丨賴) 夭賲蹖賳 诏匕丕卮鬲賳 丌賳 丨賯蹖賯鬲丕 亘乇丕蹖賲 爻禺鬲 亘賵丿.
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乇賵丕蹖鬲诏乇 倬爻乇蹖 亘蹖爻鬲 賵 丿賵 爻丕賱賴 丕爻鬲 讴賴 乇賵蹖丕蹖 賳賵蹖爻賳丿诏蹖 乇丕 丿乇 爻乇 丿丕乇丿. 丕爻鬲蹖賳诏賵 丕賴賱 賵蹖乇噩蹖賳蹖丕爻鬲. 丿乇 蹖讴蹖 丕夭 爻賮乇賴丕蹖卮 亘丕 爻賵賮蹖 賵 賳丕鬲丕賳 丌卮賳丕 賲蹖鈥屫促堌�. 爻賵賮蹖 丕夭 诏匕卮鬲賴鈥屰� 鬲賱禺 禺賵丿卮 賵 趩诏賵賳诏蹖 丌卮賳丕蹖蹖 亘丕 賳丕鬲丕賳 亘乇丕蹖 丕爻鬲蹖賳诏賵 賲蹖鈥屭堐屫� 賵 賴乇 賱丨馗賴 丕爻鬲蹖賳诏賵 亘蹖卮鬲乇 毓丕卮賯 爻賵賮蹖 賲蹖鈥屫促堌�. 賵賱蹖 丨賯丕蹖賯蹖 丕夭 夭賳丿诏蹖 爻賵賮蹖 乇賵 賲蹖鈥屫促堌� 讴賴 亘賵丿賳 丕賳鈥屬囏� 乇丕 亘丕 賴賲 睾蹖乇 賲賲讴賳 賲蹖鈥屫池ж藏� 讴賴 蹖讴蹖 丕夭 賲賴賲鈥屫臂屬� 丌賳鈥屬囏� 鬲噩乇亘賴鈥屰� 鬲賱禺 爻賵賮蹖 丿乇 丕乇丿賵诏丕賴鈥屬囏й� 鈥屬囏й� 丌卮賵蹖鬲爻 賵 丨囟賵乇 賳丕鬲丕賳 丿乇 夭賳丿诏蹖 丕賵爻鬲. 乇賲丕賳 賵賯丕蹖毓 鬲丕乇蹖禺蹖 賵 丕噩鬲賲丕毓蹖 丕夭 倬丕蹖丕賳 噩賳诏 賵 丌賳趩賴 亘乇 蹖賴賵丿蹖丕賳 賵 丨鬲蹖 睾蹖乇 蹖賴賵丿蹖丕賳 诏匕卮鬲賴 丕爻鬲貙 乇丕 亘蹖丕賳 賲蹖鈥屭┵嗀� 亘丕 賯賱賲蹖 乇賵丕賳 賵 噩匕丕亘 賵 诏蹖乇丕. 丿乇 賲丕噩乇丕蹖 讴鬲丕亘 亘蹖卮鬲乇 丕夭 丌賳鈥屭嗁� 讴賴 丕夭 賴賵賱賵讴丕爻鬲 賲蹖鈥屫堌з嗃屬� 亘賮賴賲蹖賲貨 亘丕 丕蹖賳 賲賵囟賵毓 賲賵丕噩賴蹖賲 讴賴 趩賴 亘乇 爻乇 睾蹖乇蹖賴賵丿蹖丕賳 丌賲丿賴.
April 17, 2024
趩賯丿乇 讴鬲丕亘 丿乇丿賳丕讴蹖 亘賵丿.
賵 禺蹖賱蹖 丿賵爻鬲卮 丿丕卮鬲賲 亘丕 賵噩賵丿 丕蹖賳讴賴 丕賵賱蹖賳 賲丕賴 爻丕賱 丕鬲賮丕賯 賴丕賷 睾蹖乇 賲賳鬲馗乇賴 亘乇丕賲 丕賮鬲丕丿 賵 亘丕毓孬 卮丿 丕夭 賴賲賴 趩蹖 夭丿賴 亘卮賲 丕賲丕 賳鬲賵賳爻鬲賲 丕蹖賳 讴鬲丕亘 乇賵 賳禺賵賳賲 賵 賴乇趩賯丿乇 亘賴 倬丕蹖丕賳卮 賲蹖乇爻賲 鬲賱禺鈥屫� 賲蹖卮賴.
賵 禺蹖賱蹖 丿賵爻鬲卮 丿丕卮鬲賲 亘丕 賵噩賵丿 丕蹖賳讴賴 丕賵賱蹖賳 賲丕賴 爻丕賱 丕鬲賮丕賯 賴丕賷 睾蹖乇 賲賳鬲馗乇賴 亘乇丕賲 丕賮鬲丕丿 賵 亘丕毓孬 卮丿 丕夭 賴賲賴 趩蹖 夭丿賴 亘卮賲 丕賲丕 賳鬲賵賳爻鬲賲 丕蹖賳 讴鬲丕亘 乇賵 賳禺賵賳賲 賵 賴乇趩賯丿乇 亘賴 倬丕蹖丕賳卮 賲蹖乇爻賲 鬲賱禺鈥屫� 賲蹖卮賴.
July 29, 2020
Just after I turned this novel鈥檚 last page I felt slightly conflicted about the way I felt about it and also about how to rate it. My 鈥減roblem鈥� with it had nothing to do with anything else but its structure and how much had been told using flashbacks and by shifting perspectives. I always tend to find these narrative devices kind of manipulative, distracting and most of the times unnecessary.
But here, with this one, somehow the writing saved it all for me and I read those (long) flashbacks (nearly) as compulsively as the rest of it.
Some imagery from this novel is going to stay with me (possibly) for the rest of my life. I know it. I know perfectly well the effects of good writing on my brain. Scenes from it are now mixed up with my memories and dreams like they鈥檙e my own or like I鈥檝e experienced them myself.
The moment I 鈥渕et鈥� Sophie (and Nathan) is one of those moments I know I will never forget. And how can I ever forget Sophie鈥檚 bedroom after so many visits?! Manhattan, Brooklyn, the ocean and the way it reflected the light. The wind blowing from it; Its coolness. The sand, the dunes and the beers. Oh, the dunes... And Sophie, of course. Always Sophie.
Sophie鈥檚 body, passion, accent, mispronounced words, her hair and her eyes in the mirror. Her stories, voice, pain, dreams, worst nightmares and lies. Sophie鈥檚 past, her family, friends and enemies, strength, faults and, obviously, her choice.
A beautifully written but (slightly) conflicting novel about lust and love, broken dreams, loss and the horrors of war.
After some thought, and because I don鈥檛 come across good writing and a well developed cast of characters like these as often as I鈥檇 like, I鈥檓 rating it 4.5 stars, but I鈥檝e rounded it up to 5. An extra half star just for Sophie.
But here, with this one, somehow the writing saved it all for me and I read those (long) flashbacks (nearly) as compulsively as the rest of it.
Some imagery from this novel is going to stay with me (possibly) for the rest of my life. I know it. I know perfectly well the effects of good writing on my brain. Scenes from it are now mixed up with my memories and dreams like they鈥檙e my own or like I鈥檝e experienced them myself.
The moment I 鈥渕et鈥� Sophie (and Nathan) is one of those moments I know I will never forget. And how can I ever forget Sophie鈥檚 bedroom after so many visits?! Manhattan, Brooklyn, the ocean and the way it reflected the light. The wind blowing from it; Its coolness. The sand, the dunes and the beers. Oh, the dunes... And Sophie, of course. Always Sophie.
Sophie鈥檚 body, passion, accent, mispronounced words, her hair and her eyes in the mirror. Her stories, voice, pain, dreams, worst nightmares and lies. Sophie鈥檚 past, her family, friends and enemies, strength, faults and, obviously, her choice.
A beautifully written but (slightly) conflicting novel about lust and love, broken dreams, loss and the horrors of war.
After some thought, and because I don鈥檛 come across good writing and a well developed cast of characters like these as often as I鈥檇 like, I鈥檓 rating it 4.5 stars, but I鈥檝e rounded it up to 5. An extra half star just for Sophie.
July 11, 2022
If ever there was a novel that would grab onto a reader and not let go, it would be Sophie鈥檚 Choice. It is a hauntingly uncomfortable tale that mingles together some very heavy themes and topics as well as unusual settings and makes it work, somehow. To say that the story Styron created moved me beyond words, is an understatement. I was caught up in the narrator Stingo鈥檚 self-absorbed passions and carnal thoughts and it made me squirm. This southern girl was brought up that way though and I just needed to figure out how this was going to fit into a tragic story of the Holocaust. It really seemed impossible.
This is not a book to review the plot and talk about the details. This is one that a reader will be ok with understanding the outline and then letting all of the pieces fall into place for themselves. This story centers on three people in a Brooklyn boarding house and their chaotic and complicated relationship with each other. Stingo is an aspiring writer, motivated by his desires to write a successful novel and lose his virginity, who becomes obsessed with his fellow boarders. Polish Catholic immigrant, Sophie Zawistowska survived imprisonment at Auschwitz and is now living in New York. Her story intertwines with her ongoing love affair with the volatile Jewish American scientist Nathan Landau. The southerner, Stingo, develops a close bond with Sophie who begins to tell him the story of her past from the war and of her deportation, imprisonment and survival. Her story is a slow revelation of secrets or untruths becoming truths.
This novel brings about many questions concerning guilt. It looks at the differences in how people handle it: those who feel personally responsible and those who don鈥檛. The guilt of being a survivor. The novel seeks to illumine how guilt can horrifically lead to self-destruction. Be prepared to be emotionally gutted, confused, and drained from the intense situations these characters find themselves in.
The most profound statement yet made about Auschwitz was not a statement at all, but a response. The query: 鈥楢t Auschwitz, tell me, where was God?鈥� And the answer: 鈥榃here was man?鈥欌€�
Styron gives us a chilling story of the after-effects of the Holocaust rather than of the abominations of war. There are definitely instances of the reality of concentration camps here, but the focus is on the consequences of the experiences. He weaves historical events and people so delicately into Sophie鈥檚 story as well as into Stingo鈥檚 southern heritage. Interestingly, Styron plays an autobiographical role through Stingo鈥檚 character.
The prose is philosophical yet intimate. There are lengthy passages but not a drudge to read at all. We are privy to lots of details - and I mean A LOT of details. You might find yourself wondering when the story is going to come together but the meandering style works here with so many facets to weave together, even some humor.
What to say about the sex? There is a lot of it here and of thinking about it, talking about it, and dreaming about it.
As I said in the beginning, this is a book that just wouldn鈥檛 let go regardless of how it made me feel while reading it. I ran the gamut of emotions. This is a novel that will cause many hours of reflection over the evils of humanity and just exactly how much pain a person can endure.
October 12, 2019
丕賳鬲禺丕亘 爻賵賮蹖 丕孬乇 賵蹖賱蹖丕賲 丕爻鬲丕蹖乇賳 讴鬲丕亘蹖 丕蹖爻鬲 丿乇 亘丕乇賴 賴賵賱賵讴丕爻鬲 貙 亘丕 蹖讴 鬲賮丕賵鬲 毓賲丿賴 : 賯乇亘丕賳蹖 丌賱賲丕賳 賴丕 丿蹖诏乇 蹖讴 賮乇丿 蹖賴賵丿蹖 賳蹖爻鬲 貙 爻賵賮蹖 蹖讴 讴丕鬲賵賱蹖讴 賱賴爻鬲丕賳蹖 丕蹖爻鬲 賵 丿乇 禺丕賳賵丕丿賴 丕蹖 賲鬲毓氐亘 亘夭乇诏 卮丿賴 丕爻鬲 . 倬丿乇 爻賵賮蹖 賴賲 蹖讴 丕爻鬲丕丿 丿丕賳卮诏丕賴 賵 亘賴 卮丿鬲 囟丿 蹖賴賵丿 丕爻鬲 貙 卮丕蹖丿 丕夭 賳馗乇 賳賮乇鬲 丕夭 蹖賴賵丿蹖賴丕 賮乇賯蹖 亘丕 賳丕夭蹖 賴丕 賳丿丕卮鬲賴 亘丕卮丿 貙 倬爻 爻賵賮蹖 丿乇 丌卮賵蹖鬲爻 趩賴 讴丕乇 賲蹖讴賳丿 責
丿乇 丨賯蹖賯鬲 鬲賮丕賵鬲 讴鬲丕亘 亘丕 讴鬲丕亘賴丕蹖 賲卮丕亘賴 丿乇 賴賲蹖賳 丕爻鬲 賲賳馗賵乇 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴 丿蹖诏乇 亘禺卮蹖 丕夭 亘卮乇蹖鬲 賳蹖爻鬲 貙 丕蹖賳 賯囟蹖賴 賴賵賱賵讴丕爻鬲 賲鬲賵噩賴 讴賱 亘卮乇蹖鬲 賵 丕賳爻丕賳 賴丕爻鬲 賵 丕锟斤拷 賴乇 胤亘賯賴 丕蹖 丕夭 丌賳丕賳 賯乇亘丕賳蹖 诏乇賮鬲賴 丕爻鬲 貙 趩賴 蹖讴 囟丿 蹖賴賵丿蹖 賲鬲毓氐亘 (倬丿乇 爻賵賮蹖 ) 讴賴 亘賴 噩乇賲 丕爻鬲丕丿 丿丕賳卮诏丕賴 亘賵丿賳 ! 丕毓丿丕賲 賲蹖 卮賵丿 賵 趩賴 禺賵丿 爻賵賮蹖 讴賴 亘賴 噩乇賲 亘乇丿賳 诏賵卮鬲 亘乇丕蹖 賲丕丿乇 賲乇蹖囟 禺賵丿 亘賴 丌卮賵蹖鬲爻 賮乇爻鬲丕丿賴 賲蹖 卮賵丿 . 丿乇 丿賳蹖丕蹖 爻賵賮蹖 丌卮賵蹖鬲爻 乇賮鬲賴 賴賲賴 趩蹖夭 賵丕乇賵賳賴 丕爻鬲 貙 賲丕賳賳丿 禺賵丿 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 讴賴 丕爻鬲蹖賳诏賵 貙 噩賵丕賳蹖 讴賴 亘賴 賴賲爻丕蹖诏蹖 爻賵賮蹖 亘乇丕蹖 夭賳丿诏蹖 丌賲丿賴 倬爻 丕夭 賲卮丕賴丿賴 卮賲丕乇賴 禺丕賱讴賵亘蹖 卮丿賴 賵 讴賳噩讴丕賵蹖 丿乇 賲賵乇丿 乇丕夭 爻賵賮蹖 貙 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 乇丕 亘賴 卮讴賱 賮賱卮 亘讴 亘丕夭诏賵 賲蹖 讴賳丿 貙 丿乇 亘賴卮鬲蹖 亘賴 賳丕賲 丌賲乇蹖讴丕 讴賴 讴蹖賱賵賲鬲乇賴丕 丕夭 噩賴賳賲 丕乇賵倬丕 賮丕氐賱賴 丿丕乇丿 . 丕賲丕 丕蹖賳 鬲賲丕賲 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 爻賵賮蹖 賳蹖爻鬲 貙 爻賵賮蹖 丿乇 丕氐賱 丕賳爻丕賳 賮乇氐鬲 胤賱亘蹖 丕蹖爻鬲 貙 讴爻蹖 丕蹖爻鬲 讴賴 亘乇丕蹖 賳噩丕鬲 噩丕賳 禺賵丿 丿爻鬲 亘賴 賴乇 讴丕乇 睾蹖乇 丕禺賱丕賯蹖 賲蹖 夭賳丿 . 丕夭 噩賲賱賴 賴賳诏丕賲 賵乇賵丿 亘賴 丌卮賵蹖鬲爻 賴賳诏丕賲蹖 讴賴 丕賮爻乇 賳丕夭蹖 貙 爻賵賮蹖 讴賴 丿禺鬲乇禺賵丿 乇丕 亘睾賱 诏乇賮鬲賴 賵 丿爻鬲 倬爻乇 禺賵丿 乇丕 丿乇 丿爻鬲 貙 賲賵乇丿 丌夭丕乇 讴賱丕賲蹖 賯乇丕乇 賲蹖丿賴丿 爻賵賮蹖 丕夭 夭亘丕賳 丌賱賲丕賳蹖 賮氐蹖丨 禺賵丿 丕爻鬲賮丕丿賴 賲蹖 讴賳丿 讴賴 亘诏賵蹖丿 蹖賴賵丿蹖 賳蹖爻鬲 貙 丕賲丕 丕蹖賳 丨乇賮 亘賴 囟乇乇 丕賵 鬲賲丕賲 賲蹖 卮賵丿 賵 丕賮爻乇 丌賱賲丕賳蹖 亘賴 毓賳賵丕賳 賲乇丨賲鬲 蹖讴 卮丕賳爻 亘賴 丕賵 賲蹖 丿賴丿 貙 蹖讴蹖 丕夭 亘趩賴 賴丕蹖卮 乇丕 亘賴 丕賳鬲禺丕亘 爻賵賮蹖 亘丕 禺賵丿 亘賴 丕乇丿賵诏丕賴 亘乇丿賴 賵丌賳 蹖讴蹖 乇賵丕賳賴 讴賵乇賴 诏丕夭 卮賵丿 . 丌蹖丕 倬爻 丕夭 趩賳蹖賳 丕賳鬲禺丕亘蹖 丕夭 爻賵賮蹖 趩蹖夭蹖 亘賴 噩丕 賲蹖 賲丕賳丿 責
亘丕夭蹖 亘乇丕蹖 爻賵賮蹖 賮乇氐鬲 胤賱亘 亘丿 卮丕賳爻 賴賳賵夭 丕丿丕賲賴 丿丕乇丿 貙 倬爻乇 爻賵賮蹖 賴賲 讴賴 賲丕丿乇 亘賴 蹖賲賳 丕賳鬲禺丕亘 禺賵丿 亘賴 丕賵 丨蹖丕鬲 賲噩丿丿 亘禺卮蹖丿賴 貙 賳丕夭蹖賴丕 丕夭 爻賵賮蹖 噩丿丕 賲蹖 讴賳賳丿 賵 亘賴 丕乇丿賵诏丕賴 禺丕氐蹖 亘乇丕蹖 丌賲賵夭卮 夭賳丿诏蹖 丌乇蹖丕蹖蹖 賮乇爻鬲丕丿賴 賲蹖 卮賵丿 . 爻賵賮蹖 賳诏賵賳 亘禺鬲 毓賲賱丕 亘丕 丕賳鬲禺丕亘 禺賵丿 賴乇 丿賵 賮乇夭賳丿 禺賵蹖卮 乇丕 丕夭 丿爻鬲 丿丕丿賴 丕爻鬲 .
丕賲丕 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴 丌賯丕蹖 賵蹖賱蹖丕賲 丕爻鬲丕蹖乇賳 亘乇丕蹖 爻賵賮蹖 賲毓噩夭賴 丕蹖 賲賯丿乇 讴乇丿賴 丕爻鬲 貙 爻賵賮蹖 讴賴 亘賴 夭亘丕賳 丌賱賲丕賳蹖 讴丕賲賱丕 賲爻賱胤 丕爻鬲 丿乇 丿賮鬲乇 賮乇賲丕賳丿賴 丕乇丿賵诏丕賴 讴丕乇 賲蹖 讴賳丿 貙 丿乇 丕鬲賮丕賯蹖 卮亘蹖賴 賲毓噩夭賴 賵 亘爻蹖丕乇 亘毓蹖丿 丕夭 丿爻鬲诏丕賴 丕丿丕乇蹖 賳丕夭蹖賴丕 貙 賮乇賲丕賳丿賴 亘蹖 鬲丕亘 丿乇 賵氐丕賱 爻賵賮蹖 丕蹖爻鬲 貙 丕賲丕 賳丕诏賴丕賳 亘賴 禺賵丿 賲蹖 丌蹖丿 賵 倬蹖 賲蹖 亘乇丿 讴賴 乇丕亘胤賴 亘丕 丕爻蹖乇 趩賴 毓丕賯亘鬲蹖 丿丕乇丿 . 爻賵賮蹖 賳诏賵賳 亘禺鬲 讴賴 亘賴 丿賳亘丕賱 蹖丕賮鬲賳 賵 賳噩丕鬲 倬爻乇 禺賵丿 丕爻鬲 賳賵卮鬲賴 賴丕蹖 囟丿 蹖賴賵丿蹖 倬丿乇 禺賵丿 讴賴 丿乇 鬲賲丕賲 丕蹖賳 賲丿鬲 賯丕蹖賲 讴乇丿賴 丕爻鬲 亘賴 賮乇賲丕賳丿賴 賳卮丕賳 賲蹖 丿賴丿 鬲丕 亘賴 丕賵 孬丕亘鬲 讴賳丿 丕賵 賴賲 亘賴 丕賳丿丕夭賴 賳丕夭蹖賴丕 囟丿 蹖賴賵丿 丕爻鬲 貙 胤亘蹖毓蹖 丕蹖爻鬲 讴賴 賮乇賲丕賳丿賴 丕賴賲蹖鬲蹖 亘賴 爻賵賮蹖 賵 讴丕睾匕 賴丕蹖卮 賳賲蹖 丿賴丿 賵 爻賵賮蹖 鬲丕 丌禺乇 毓賲乇 亘蹖 禺亘乇 丕夭 賵囟毓蹖鬲 倬爻乇 禺賵丿 賲蹖 賲丕賳丿 .
丕賲丕 丕蹖賳 倬丕蹖丕賳 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 爻賵賮蹖 賳蹖爻鬲 貙 丕賵 讴賴 丕夭 倬爻 丕夭 倬丕蹖丕賳 噩賳诏 丕夭 噩賴賳賲 爻賵夭丕賳 丕乇賵倬丕 诏乇蹖禺鬲賴 賵 亘賴 亘賴卮鬲 丌賲乇蹖讴丕 丌賲丿賴 貙 丿爻鬲 爻乇賳賵卮鬲 丕賵 乇丕 鬲丕 丌賲乇蹖讴丕 賴賲 丿賳亘丕賱 賲蹖 讴賳丿 貙 丕賵 賴賳賵夭 鬲丕賵丕賳 讴丕賮蹖 賳丿丕丿賴 丕爻鬲 貙 倬爻 亘丕蹖丿 丿乇 丿丕賲 毓卮賯 賲乇丿蹖 賲亘鬲賱丕 亘賴 亘蹖賲丕乇蹖 亘爻蹖丕乇 倬蹖卮乇賮鬲賴 禺蹖丕賱 亘丕賮蹖 亘蹖賮鬲丿 賵 賳鬲賵丕賳丿 丕夭 賮讴乇 賵禺蹖丕賱 丕蹖賳 毓卮賯 亘蹖賲丕乇 禺賵丿 禺丕乇噩 卮賵丿 貙 丿乇 讴賳丕乇 丕賵 賲丕賳丿賴 鬲丕 亘丕 賴賲 禺賵丿 讴卮蹖 讴賳賳丿 .
丿乇 丨賯蹖賯鬲 鬲賮丕賵鬲 讴鬲丕亘 亘丕 讴鬲丕亘賴丕蹖 賲卮丕亘賴 丿乇 賴賲蹖賳 丕爻鬲 賲賳馗賵乇 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴 丿蹖诏乇 亘禺卮蹖 丕夭 亘卮乇蹖鬲 賳蹖爻鬲 貙 丕蹖賳 賯囟蹖賴 賴賵賱賵讴丕爻鬲 賲鬲賵噩賴 讴賱 亘卮乇蹖鬲 賵 丕賳爻丕賳 賴丕爻鬲 賵 丕锟斤拷 賴乇 胤亘賯賴 丕蹖 丕夭 丌賳丕賳 賯乇亘丕賳蹖 诏乇賮鬲賴 丕爻鬲 貙 趩賴 蹖讴 囟丿 蹖賴賵丿蹖 賲鬲毓氐亘 (倬丿乇 爻賵賮蹖 ) 讴賴 亘賴 噩乇賲 丕爻鬲丕丿 丿丕賳卮诏丕賴 亘賵丿賳 ! 丕毓丿丕賲 賲蹖 卮賵丿 賵 趩賴 禺賵丿 爻賵賮蹖 讴賴 亘賴 噩乇賲 亘乇丿賳 诏賵卮鬲 亘乇丕蹖 賲丕丿乇 賲乇蹖囟 禺賵丿 亘賴 丌卮賵蹖鬲爻 賮乇爻鬲丕丿賴 賲蹖 卮賵丿 . 丿乇 丿賳蹖丕蹖 爻賵賮蹖 丌卮賵蹖鬲爻 乇賮鬲賴 賴賲賴 趩蹖夭 賵丕乇賵賳賴 丕爻鬲 貙 賲丕賳賳丿 禺賵丿 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 讴賴 丕爻鬲蹖賳诏賵 貙 噩賵丕賳蹖 讴賴 亘賴 賴賲爻丕蹖诏蹖 爻賵賮蹖 亘乇丕蹖 夭賳丿诏蹖 丌賲丿賴 倬爻 丕夭 賲卮丕賴丿賴 卮賲丕乇賴 禺丕賱讴賵亘蹖 卮丿賴 賵 讴賳噩讴丕賵蹖 丿乇 賲賵乇丿 乇丕夭 爻賵賮蹖 貙 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 乇丕 亘賴 卮讴賱 賮賱卮 亘讴 亘丕夭诏賵 賲蹖 讴賳丿 貙 丿乇 亘賴卮鬲蹖 亘賴 賳丕賲 丌賲乇蹖讴丕 讴賴 讴蹖賱賵賲鬲乇賴丕 丕夭 噩賴賳賲 丕乇賵倬丕 賮丕氐賱賴 丿丕乇丿 . 丕賲丕 丕蹖賳 鬲賲丕賲 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 爻賵賮蹖 賳蹖爻鬲 貙 爻賵賮蹖 丿乇 丕氐賱 丕賳爻丕賳 賮乇氐鬲 胤賱亘蹖 丕蹖爻鬲 貙 讴爻蹖 丕蹖爻鬲 讴賴 亘乇丕蹖 賳噩丕鬲 噩丕賳 禺賵丿 丿爻鬲 亘賴 賴乇 讴丕乇 睾蹖乇 丕禺賱丕賯蹖 賲蹖 夭賳丿 . 丕夭 噩賲賱賴 賴賳诏丕賲 賵乇賵丿 亘賴 丌卮賵蹖鬲爻 賴賳诏丕賲蹖 讴賴 丕賮爻乇 賳丕夭蹖 貙 爻賵賮蹖 讴賴 丿禺鬲乇禺賵丿 乇丕 亘睾賱 诏乇賮鬲賴 賵 丿爻鬲 倬爻乇 禺賵丿 乇丕 丿乇 丿爻鬲 貙 賲賵乇丿 丌夭丕乇 讴賱丕賲蹖 賯乇丕乇 賲蹖丿賴丿 爻賵賮蹖 丕夭 夭亘丕賳 丌賱賲丕賳蹖 賮氐蹖丨 禺賵丿 丕爻鬲賮丕丿賴 賲蹖 讴賳丿 讴賴 亘诏賵蹖丿 蹖賴賵丿蹖 賳蹖爻鬲 貙 丕賲丕 丕蹖賳 丨乇賮 亘賴 囟乇乇 丕賵 鬲賲丕賲 賲蹖 卮賵丿 賵 丕賮爻乇 丌賱賲丕賳蹖 亘賴 毓賳賵丕賳 賲乇丨賲鬲 蹖讴 卮丕賳爻 亘賴 丕賵 賲蹖 丿賴丿 貙 蹖讴蹖 丕夭 亘趩賴 賴丕蹖卮 乇丕 亘賴 丕賳鬲禺丕亘 爻賵賮蹖 亘丕 禺賵丿 亘賴 丕乇丿賵诏丕賴 亘乇丿賴 賵丌賳 蹖讴蹖 乇賵丕賳賴 讴賵乇賴 诏丕夭 卮賵丿 . 丌蹖丕 倬爻 丕夭 趩賳蹖賳 丕賳鬲禺丕亘蹖 丕夭 爻賵賮蹖 趩蹖夭蹖 亘賴 噩丕 賲蹖 賲丕賳丿 責
亘丕夭蹖 亘乇丕蹖 爻賵賮蹖 賮乇氐鬲 胤賱亘 亘丿 卮丕賳爻 賴賳賵夭 丕丿丕賲賴 丿丕乇丿 貙 倬爻乇 爻賵賮蹖 賴賲 讴賴 賲丕丿乇 亘賴 蹖賲賳 丕賳鬲禺丕亘 禺賵丿 亘賴 丕賵 丨蹖丕鬲 賲噩丿丿 亘禺卮蹖丿賴 貙 賳丕夭蹖賴丕 丕夭 爻賵賮蹖 噩丿丕 賲蹖 讴賳賳丿 賵 亘賴 丕乇丿賵诏丕賴 禺丕氐蹖 亘乇丕蹖 丌賲賵夭卮 夭賳丿诏蹖 丌乇蹖丕蹖蹖 賮乇爻鬲丕丿賴 賲蹖 卮賵丿 . 爻賵賮蹖 賳诏賵賳 亘禺鬲 毓賲賱丕 亘丕 丕賳鬲禺丕亘 禺賵丿 賴乇 丿賵 賮乇夭賳丿 禺賵蹖卮 乇丕 丕夭 丿爻鬲 丿丕丿賴 丕爻鬲 .
丕賲丕 賳賵蹖爻賳丿賴 丌賯丕蹖 賵蹖賱蹖丕賲 丕爻鬲丕蹖乇賳 亘乇丕蹖 爻賵賮蹖 賲毓噩夭賴 丕蹖 賲賯丿乇 讴乇丿賴 丕爻鬲 貙 爻賵賮蹖 讴賴 亘賴 夭亘丕賳 丌賱賲丕賳蹖 讴丕賲賱丕 賲爻賱胤 丕爻鬲 丿乇 丿賮鬲乇 賮乇賲丕賳丿賴 丕乇丿賵诏丕賴 讴丕乇 賲蹖 讴賳丿 貙 丿乇 丕鬲賮丕賯蹖 卮亘蹖賴 賲毓噩夭賴 賵 亘爻蹖丕乇 亘毓蹖丿 丕夭 丿爻鬲诏丕賴 丕丿丕乇蹖 賳丕夭蹖賴丕 貙 賮乇賲丕賳丿賴 亘蹖 鬲丕亘 丿乇 賵氐丕賱 爻賵賮蹖 丕蹖爻鬲 貙 丕賲丕 賳丕诏賴丕賳 亘賴 禺賵丿 賲蹖 丌蹖丿 賵 倬蹖 賲蹖 亘乇丿 讴賴 乇丕亘胤賴 亘丕 丕爻蹖乇 趩賴 毓丕賯亘鬲蹖 丿丕乇丿 . 爻賵賮蹖 賳诏賵賳 亘禺鬲 讴賴 亘賴 丿賳亘丕賱 蹖丕賮鬲賳 賵 賳噩丕鬲 倬爻乇 禺賵丿 丕爻鬲 賳賵卮鬲賴 賴丕蹖 囟丿 蹖賴賵丿蹖 倬丿乇 禺賵丿 讴賴 丿乇 鬲賲丕賲 丕蹖賳 賲丿鬲 賯丕蹖賲 讴乇丿賴 丕爻鬲 亘賴 賮乇賲丕賳丿賴 賳卮丕賳 賲蹖 丿賴丿 鬲丕 亘賴 丕賵 孬丕亘鬲 讴賳丿 丕賵 賴賲 亘賴 丕賳丿丕夭賴 賳丕夭蹖賴丕 囟丿 蹖賴賵丿 丕爻鬲 貙 胤亘蹖毓蹖 丕蹖爻鬲 讴賴 賮乇賲丕賳丿賴 丕賴賲蹖鬲蹖 亘賴 爻賵賮蹖 賵 讴丕睾匕 賴丕蹖卮 賳賲蹖 丿賴丿 賵 爻賵賮蹖 鬲丕 丌禺乇 毓賲乇 亘蹖 禺亘乇 丕夭 賵囟毓蹖鬲 倬爻乇 禺賵丿 賲蹖 賲丕賳丿 .
丕賲丕 丕蹖賳 倬丕蹖丕賳 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 爻賵賮蹖 賳蹖爻鬲 貙 丕賵 讴賴 丕夭 倬爻 丕夭 倬丕蹖丕賳 噩賳诏 丕夭 噩賴賳賲 爻賵夭丕賳 丕乇賵倬丕 诏乇蹖禺鬲賴 賵 亘賴 亘賴卮鬲 丌賲乇蹖讴丕 丌賲丿賴 貙 丿爻鬲 爻乇賳賵卮鬲 丕賵 乇丕 鬲丕 丌賲乇蹖讴丕 賴賲 丿賳亘丕賱 賲蹖 讴賳丿 貙 丕賵 賴賳賵夭 鬲丕賵丕賳 讴丕賮蹖 賳丿丕丿賴 丕爻鬲 貙 倬爻 亘丕蹖丿 丿乇 丿丕賲 毓卮賯 賲乇丿蹖 賲亘鬲賱丕 亘賴 亘蹖賲丕乇蹖 亘爻蹖丕乇 倬蹖卮乇賮鬲賴 禺蹖丕賱 亘丕賮蹖 亘蹖賮鬲丿 賵 賳鬲賵丕賳丿 丕夭 賮讴乇 賵禺蹖丕賱 丕蹖賳 毓卮賯 亘蹖賲丕乇 禺賵丿 禺丕乇噩 卮賵丿 貙 丿乇 讴賳丕乇 丕賵 賲丕賳丿賴 鬲丕 亘丕 賴賲 禺賵丿 讴卮蹖 讴賳賳丿 .
November 6, 2022
I read this decades ago, but I remember that Styron didn't convince me that this was the choice Sophie would choose.
March 1, 2017
For a story premise that's catchy and original, this is one Dreck of an execution, as bad as to induce anger at encountering this poor handling of a serious theme.
As this is a classic novel, surely there's hundreds of reviews better and more articulate than mine, so I'll only list my main grievances, and do so as succintly as possible:
Prose: Frankly, this was one of the most pedantic and overwritten proses I've ever found; so pretentious and wordy it makes it difficult to concentrate on the plot. If there's a simple, clear and perfectly lovely way to say something, you can bet Styron will twist it to sound as grand and preciosist as he can. If there's a common and well-known term for something, you can be sure Styron will find a dozen synonyms to use and abuse so he can repeat the same things with different words, the more syllabes it has and the rarer it is in common usage, the better.
Being fair, there's a (small) chance that this is deliberate on the author's part, because the protagonist, Stingo, is an aspiring writer with a wince-inducing case of literary snobbery and an even worse case of needing to prove his intellectual worth and superiority. Proof? Pay attention to the chapters where the main character's working as an manuscript reader/editor at McGraw-Hill, where the letters of rejection he hands out would rival some of the most pretentious replies from real-life editors an aspiring writer can find nowadays. Somehow, I doubt it's just a literary device. I'm sure it's an authorial trait, and that Stingo is just a barely-fictionalised Styron goes to reinforce my suspicion.
Dialogue: Melodramatic, in parts long-winded to an unnatural extent, and suffering from the same excess of pretentiousness as the prose. It would have been credible if only Stingo were the one to speak in such a manner.
Story: If you thought the title Sophie's Choice was any indication of the contents, then you were misled like probably everyone. This isn't the story of a Polish concentration camp survivor called Sophie who was subjected to a diabolically cruel mind-game while at Auschwitz, like it would be logical to assume from the cover. Instead, this is the story of a twenty-something youngster who spends his days thinking 90% about sex, 8% about his literary aspirations, 1% of the great and oh so accomplished writers he reads and quotes, 0.5% about patronising lectures on morals over slavery and evil, an 0.5% about taking an unstable Holocaust survivor into his bed.
I can't even begin to enumerate the ways in which this is such a stupid structure to tell a story like that. Stingo is the only voice in the novel, his POV is the only one we get, and his own ideas, his own feelings and needs are what overwhelmingly colour the narration. Sophie, whose story is supposed to be the driving plot point, is merely an object, a device to allow Stingo (and by extension William Styron) to pontificate on a myriad topics he cannot possibly know. Which is another huge issue, because although Stingo starts out stating he's going to tell Sophie's story to explore the dangers and threats of human evil, in the end he's run over by his lust for this woman and so enthralled by her and her toxic and abusive relationship with Nathan to bother to really go in-depth into any topic. All those lofty and grand themes he wants to explore are just perfunctorily noted and mentioned in passing, and instead we're subjected to long, detailed and very in-depth explorations of the joys of coitus and the sexual frustration and lust that rule his life.
To make things even more poorly handled and lacking in credibility, when Sophie does tell him the tale of her time in Auschwitz, which she tells in spaced and fragmented ways over a period of time, Stingo (that is, Styron) doesn't allow her to have her own voice and pass on her story unmolested. No! Stingo has to serve as a filter for her, interjecting all the time to add his own commentary and to tell things like feelings, thought processes and body-awareness that he has absolutely NO WAY of knowing. Because he narrates like he's in Sophie's head, thinking her thoughts and feeling her emotions! How exactly does that ring credible?
Styron could've quite easily given Sophie her own POV. It's no wonder accusations of appropriation are thrown his way, and I'd not say it's because he's a WASP writing about the Shoah, for I maintain any writer has the right to write about topics that aren't his own country, or race, or gender. That's the beauty of literature. The problem is that he's taken Sophie to be a mere mouthpiece for his ideology and his thoughts. No, scratch that, she's not even a mouthpiece; that'd be Stingo, she's merely a device to allow the mouthpiece to express his thoughts, and not a character.
Another thing that I found distracting was the author's tendency to use sexuality for shock. And I'm not speaking of Stingo specifically, as for him being oversexed is practically how he's been conceived by the writer. I'm thinking of Sophie, and how in her parts it's used as a shock tactic outside of her relationship with Nathan (where it does make sense why she's like she is), both consensual and non-consensual, and with both genders.
Characterisation: To sum up the three main characters, it goes like this:
Stingo = Author self-insert.
Sophie = Writing device with a people name.
Nathan = Third wheel.
Wrap-Up: By the time Sophie's "choice" is revealed in the penultimate chapter, interest has waned so much it's hardly shocking. Or not shocking at all, if you were able to guess from the clues spread all over the novel since the beginning. That's another flaw: the author has stretched the story of Sophie's hard choice for too long, dropping the breadcrumbs little by little as he wrote only to find when he's finally arrived to destination that he no longer has any loaf of bread.
Styron just squanders the potential emotional impact by excessive delay. And on top of it, when he finally reveals what Sophie's choice was about, he further diminishes its impact with two details: one, that the choice was forced on Sophie not by the person that the build-up to the reveal would've indicated was the most logical suspect to do precisely that to her but by another I'm going to put inside spoiler brackets.
In sum, the premise deserved a more deft narrative structure. It's really good, and by itself would've convinced me to rate this book higher, but the negatives just outweighted the originality and interest in the story.
As this is a classic novel, surely there's hundreds of reviews better and more articulate than mine, so I'll only list my main grievances, and do so as succintly as possible:
Prose: Frankly, this was one of the most pedantic and overwritten proses I've ever found; so pretentious and wordy it makes it difficult to concentrate on the plot. If there's a simple, clear and perfectly lovely way to say something, you can bet Styron will twist it to sound as grand and preciosist as he can. If there's a common and well-known term for something, you can be sure Styron will find a dozen synonyms to use and abuse so he can repeat the same things with different words, the more syllabes it has and the rarer it is in common usage, the better.
Being fair, there's a (small) chance that this is deliberate on the author's part, because the protagonist, Stingo, is an aspiring writer with a wince-inducing case of literary snobbery and an even worse case of needing to prove his intellectual worth and superiority. Proof? Pay attention to the chapters where the main character's working as an manuscript reader/editor at McGraw-Hill, where the letters of rejection he hands out would rival some of the most pretentious replies from real-life editors an aspiring writer can find nowadays. Somehow, I doubt it's just a literary device. I'm sure it's an authorial trait, and that Stingo is just a barely-fictionalised Styron goes to reinforce my suspicion.
Dialogue: Melodramatic, in parts long-winded to an unnatural extent, and suffering from the same excess of pretentiousness as the prose. It would have been credible if only Stingo were the one to speak in such a manner.
Story: If you thought the title Sophie's Choice was any indication of the contents, then you were misled like probably everyone. This isn't the story of a Polish concentration camp survivor called Sophie who was subjected to a diabolically cruel mind-game while at Auschwitz, like it would be logical to assume from the cover. Instead, this is the story of a twenty-something youngster who spends his days thinking 90% about sex, 8% about his literary aspirations, 1% of the great and oh so accomplished writers he reads and quotes, 0.5% about patronising lectures on morals over slavery and evil, an 0.5% about taking an unstable Holocaust survivor into his bed.
I can't even begin to enumerate the ways in which this is such a stupid structure to tell a story like that. Stingo is the only voice in the novel, his POV is the only one we get, and his own ideas, his own feelings and needs are what overwhelmingly colour the narration. Sophie, whose story is supposed to be the driving plot point, is merely an object, a device to allow Stingo (and by extension William Styron) to pontificate on a myriad topics he cannot possibly know. Which is another huge issue, because although Stingo starts out stating he's going to tell Sophie's story to explore the dangers and threats of human evil, in the end he's run over by his lust for this woman and so enthralled by her and her toxic and abusive relationship with Nathan to bother to really go in-depth into any topic. All those lofty and grand themes he wants to explore are just perfunctorily noted and mentioned in passing, and instead we're subjected to long, detailed and very in-depth explorations of the joys of coitus and the sexual frustration and lust that rule his life.
To make things even more poorly handled and lacking in credibility, when Sophie does tell him the tale of her time in Auschwitz, which she tells in spaced and fragmented ways over a period of time, Stingo (that is, Styron) doesn't allow her to have her own voice and pass on her story unmolested. No! Stingo has to serve as a filter for her, interjecting all the time to add his own commentary and to tell things like feelings, thought processes and body-awareness that he has absolutely NO WAY of knowing. Because he narrates like he's in Sophie's head, thinking her thoughts and feeling her emotions! How exactly does that ring credible?
Styron could've quite easily given Sophie her own POV. It's no wonder accusations of appropriation are thrown his way, and I'd not say it's because he's a WASP writing about the Shoah, for I maintain any writer has the right to write about topics that aren't his own country, or race, or gender. That's the beauty of literature. The problem is that he's taken Sophie to be a mere mouthpiece for his ideology and his thoughts. No, scratch that, she's not even a mouthpiece; that'd be Stingo, she's merely a device to allow the mouthpiece to express his thoughts, and not a character.
Another thing that I found distracting was the author's tendency to use sexuality for shock. And I'm not speaking of Stingo specifically, as for him being oversexed is practically how he's been conceived by the writer. I'm thinking of Sophie, and how in her parts it's used as a shock tactic outside of her relationship with Nathan (where it does make sense why she's like she is), both consensual and non-consensual, and with both genders.
Characterisation: To sum up the three main characters, it goes like this:
Stingo = Author self-insert.
Sophie = Writing device with a people name.
Nathan = Third wheel.
Wrap-Up: By the time Sophie's "choice" is revealed in the penultimate chapter, interest has waned so much it's hardly shocking. Or not shocking at all, if you were able to guess from the clues spread all over the novel since the beginning. That's another flaw: the author has stretched the story of Sophie's hard choice for too long, dropping the breadcrumbs little by little as he wrote only to find when he's finally arrived to destination that he no longer has any loaf of bread.
Styron just squanders the potential emotional impact by excessive delay. And on top of it, when he finally reveals what Sophie's choice was about, he further diminishes its impact with two details: one, that the choice was forced on Sophie not by the person that the build-up to the reveal would've indicated was the most logical suspect to do precisely that to her but by another I'm going to put inside spoiler brackets.
In sum, the premise deserved a more deft narrative structure. It's really good, and by itself would've convinced me to rate this book higher, but the negatives just outweighted the originality and interest in the story.
December 31, 2024
Am tot amanat-o, iar din filmul vazut听cu multa vreme in urma, aveam in minte听 doar franturi.
Marea surpriza听 a fost pentru mine sa descopar cat de bine, cursiv, expresiv si complex scrie William Styron ! Si cat de inteligent reuseste sa imbine teme majore (divergentele nord-sud in America anilor '40, Holocaustul, nebunia, descoperirea sexualitatii, relatiile intr-un cuplu cu probleme, dificultatile unui scriitor la inceput de drum).
Cartea lasa literaturii un inseparabil si special trio : Sofia-Nathan-Stingo...pe fiecare, pe rand, i-am indragit, apoi i-am judecat, ca in final sa ii inteleg pe deplin. Si mi-au ramas tare dragi.
Avem aici o abordare diferita a manifestarii Raului in tot ceea ce s-a petrecut in acea neagra perioada a istoriei : ura fata de polonezi, antisemitism si Holocaust, si mi se pare important ceea ce a afirmat Styron intr-un interviu :听
"Am 卯ncercat s膬 ar膬t c膬 promotorii r膬ului absolut la Auschwitz erau, 卯n fapt, oameni simpli.
A葯a cum bine au ar膬tat at芒t Simone Weil, c芒t 葯i Hannah Arendt, avem tendin葲a de a cli葯eiza no葲iunea de r膬u, pun芒nd prea mare pre葲 pe manifest膬rile melodramatice sau pline de sadism ale acestuia, c芒nd de fapt, r膬ul se manifest膬 cu o regularitate monoton膬, ca un fel de normalitate birocratic膬."
Marea surpriza听 a fost pentru mine sa descopar cat de bine, cursiv, expresiv si complex scrie William Styron ! Si cat de inteligent reuseste sa imbine teme majore (divergentele nord-sud in America anilor '40, Holocaustul, nebunia, descoperirea sexualitatii, relatiile intr-un cuplu cu probleme, dificultatile unui scriitor la inceput de drum).
Cartea lasa literaturii un inseparabil si special trio : Sofia-Nathan-Stingo...pe fiecare, pe rand, i-am indragit, apoi i-am judecat, ca in final sa ii inteleg pe deplin. Si mi-au ramas tare dragi.
Avem aici o abordare diferita a manifestarii Raului in tot ceea ce s-a petrecut in acea neagra perioada a istoriei : ura fata de polonezi, antisemitism si Holocaust, si mi se pare important ceea ce a afirmat Styron intr-un interviu :听
"Am 卯ncercat s膬 ar膬t c膬 promotorii r膬ului absolut la Auschwitz erau, 卯n fapt, oameni simpli.
A葯a cum bine au ar膬tat at芒t Simone Weil, c芒t 葯i Hannah Arendt, avem tendin葲a de a cli葯eiza no葲iunea de r膬u, pun芒nd prea mare pre葲 pe manifest膬rile melodramatice sau pline de sadism ale acestuia, c芒nd de fapt, r膬ul se manifest膬 cu o regularitate monoton膬, ca un fel de normalitate birocratic膬."
August 24, 2014
Well, I finished it. And I despised every moment of it, from the writing to the characters. Maybe I just don't understand or appreciate a writing style such as Styron's, but I just found it incredibly tedious and tiresome to wade through all of Stingo's incessant (and lust-fueled) rambling. I hated him and in turn ended up absolutely hating Sophie and Nathan. When you reach the climatic point in the novel and you don't feel even the slightest twinge of anything other than, thank god this means it is almost over, then you know that you should just call it a day and admit failure.
So, yes. Sophie's Choice. Huge, gigantic and miserable no go for me.
So, yes. Sophie's Choice. Huge, gigantic and miserable no go for me.
May 6, 2015
One of those books everyone else loved and I loathed. I thought the book was pointless and overwrought, rather like Meryl Streep's acting in the film of the same name.
June 19, 2012
It was good that I missed the Oscar-nominated movie adaptation of this book when it was shown in 1985. My curiosity to find out what exactly was the meaning of the "choice" in the title, kept me leafing through the pages until it was revealed towards the end. There are actually two. Sophie, the beautiful Polish (non-Nazi) Holocaust survivor has to choose who to end up with between her two lovers, the Jewish Nathan Landau who is a crazy junkie but who brought her to America and the struggling American, Stingo who is also the narrator of the story. The other Sophie's choice should be hidden as it is the best part of the book. So if you have neither seen the movie nor read this book, please do not click this: That is an awful, awful choice that no parent would like to make as the options are both unbearable. Burn in hell, you Nazis.
This is my first Styron and I am impressed. His prose is not really exceptional but it is very readable. He has just the tendency to be overly melodramatic like Pat Conroy's The Prince of Tides but at least his characters are multi-dimensional. There are only 3 main characters in this book but I could almost feel them rising up from the pages of this book. There are no clear heroes and villains among them. Styron just presented them as they are and so the first choice - who is the better man - should have been very hard for Sophie. In the end, I thought that her decision is unwise but having it the other way around would not result to the same impact that Styron probably wanted his readers to feel.
My favorite character is Sophie and her best part is in the scene when she told Stingo that she steals menus from restaurants because she likes to take them home as souvenirs. This was Styron's way of showing the quirkiness of her character at the start then he totally transformed her afterwards by showing what she has to endure in living with Nathan and in the end, revealing what she had to go through in order to come in the US and fleeing her war-torn country, Poland.
The theme is racism in all fronts: blunt vs subtle, past vs present, external vs. internal. Blunt, past and external is the Holocaust that happened in Europe. Subtle, present, internal are the many forms of racial discrimination that are still happening, in the US and even in other countries, even here in the Philippines.
My only little complaint is the too much of use of F word and too much sex scenes that they could muddle the meaning of the story because sometimes I felt I was reading an erotica. I thought that Styron went a little overboard on these. Otherwise, it is a story with a strong message, heart-wrenching plot, well-developed characters and shocking ending that would be enough reason for you to continue reading. This is a long 626-page read but it is definitely worth your time.
I should read Styron's more popular work, The Confessions of Nat Turner soon. He is so good I can't wait to have a second serving.
This is my first Styron and I am impressed. His prose is not really exceptional but it is very readable. He has just the tendency to be overly melodramatic like Pat Conroy's The Prince of Tides but at least his characters are multi-dimensional. There are only 3 main characters in this book but I could almost feel them rising up from the pages of this book. There are no clear heroes and villains among them. Styron just presented them as they are and so the first choice - who is the better man - should have been very hard for Sophie. In the end, I thought that her decision is unwise but having it the other way around would not result to the same impact that Styron probably wanted his readers to feel.
My favorite character is Sophie and her best part is in the scene when she told Stingo that she steals menus from restaurants because she likes to take them home as souvenirs. This was Styron's way of showing the quirkiness of her character at the start then he totally transformed her afterwards by showing what she has to endure in living with Nathan and in the end, revealing what she had to go through in order to come in the US and fleeing her war-torn country, Poland.
The theme is racism in all fronts: blunt vs subtle, past vs present, external vs. internal. Blunt, past and external is the Holocaust that happened in Europe. Subtle, present, internal are the many forms of racial discrimination that are still happening, in the US and even in other countries, even here in the Philippines.
My only little complaint is the too much of use of F word and too much sex scenes that they could muddle the meaning of the story because sometimes I felt I was reading an erotica. I thought that Styron went a little overboard on these. Otherwise, it is a story with a strong message, heart-wrenching plot, well-developed characters and shocking ending that would be enough reason for you to continue reading. This is a long 626-page read but it is definitely worth your time.
I should read Styron's more popular work, The Confessions of Nat Turner soon. He is so good I can't wait to have a second serving.
August 5, 2018
Styron gets knocked for two reasons. The first is that he's an appropriater: in his Pulitzer-winning Confessions of Nat Turner, he appropriated the famous slave revolutionary's story, and here he's taken the Holocaust. As he's neither black nor Jewish, some black and Jewish people are like wtf are you doing with my history. The second knock is that he writes clear and exciting prose with a lot of fancy words, leading Martin Amis to call him a "thesaurus of florid commonplaces."
"In my career as a writer," says Stingo, Sophie's Choice's narrator, "I have always been attracted to morbid themes - suicide, rape, murder, military life, marriage, slavery." (I love that marriage is just slipped in there.) Stingo is about to write a novel about Nat Turner, so it's not a stretch to call him a stand-in for Styron. James Baldwin, a friend and defender, said that "He writes out of reasons similar to mine - about something that hurt him and frightened him."
What hurts and frightens Styron is evil, and Sophie's Choice is about evil. He's shaken by the reality of it. Stingo figures out exactly what he was doing on the morning that Sophie arrived at Auschwitz: eating a banana on a beautiful day in North Carolina. This is his point, repeated often: at any given moment, while you're living your mundane life, someone in the world is capable of the deepest evil. American slavery looms over the story. Styron would like us to remember that we're sitting around in a country built on genocide, acting all horrified about what Nazis did. Stingo is supported in part by a treasure found in an ancestor's basement; the treasure is the proceeds from the sale of a slave.
The third character in the book is Nathan, Sophie's lover, and he embodies this human schizophrenia literally. He's unstable: often charming, occasionally careening into violent madness. Here's humanity according to Styron. In the end, Did I mention that this book is a bummer?
What was happening that morning as Sophie, our destroyed heroine, arrived at Auschwitz was the deepest evil Styron can think of. You probably know what the choice was, right? I'd never read the book or seen the movie but I've been using it as a joke for years: "Should we get burritos or fried chicken for lunch?" "Oh no, this is like Sophie's Choice." The ending of this book upset me so badly that I feel awful for ever making that joke. I've rarely been so crushed by a novel.
Styron is less interested in Sophie's choice than in the fact that she was forced to make it. Here's the worst thing in the world, he says. Styron didn't make the choice up; he got it from Hannah Arendt, who says she got it from Camus. But could it happen? Of course it could; if we can't prove this exact story, we have ample proof of stories like it. Who could do it? Could you do it? Could someone be doing it right now?
Styron believes that evil can happen anywhere, any time, to anyone. It could be happening now, as you read this review. Maybe you're eating a banana. You are not intrinsically better than slaveowners or Nazis. You're lucky that as yet you haven't had to decide whether to resist or submit. He asks:
Styron would like us to make sure we're prepared to be there.
"In my career as a writer," says Stingo, Sophie's Choice's narrator, "I have always been attracted to morbid themes - suicide, rape, murder, military life, marriage, slavery." (I love that marriage is just slipped in there.) Stingo is about to write a novel about Nat Turner, so it's not a stretch to call him a stand-in for Styron. James Baldwin, a friend and defender, said that "He writes out of reasons similar to mine - about something that hurt him and frightened him."
What hurts and frightens Styron is evil, and Sophie's Choice is about evil. He's shaken by the reality of it. Stingo figures out exactly what he was doing on the morning that Sophie arrived at Auschwitz: eating a banana on a beautiful day in North Carolina. This is his point, repeated often: at any given moment, while you're living your mundane life, someone in the world is capable of the deepest evil. American slavery looms over the story. Styron would like us to remember that we're sitting around in a country built on genocide, acting all horrified about what Nazis did. Stingo is supported in part by a treasure found in an ancestor's basement; the treasure is the proceeds from the sale of a slave.
The third character in the book is Nathan, Sophie's lover, and he embodies this human schizophrenia literally. He's unstable: often charming, occasionally careening into violent madness. Here's humanity according to Styron. In the end, Did I mention that this book is a bummer?
What was happening that morning as Sophie, our destroyed heroine, arrived at Auschwitz was the deepest evil Styron can think of. You probably know what the choice was, right? I'd never read the book or seen the movie but I've been using it as a joke for years: "Should we get burritos or fried chicken for lunch?" "Oh no, this is like Sophie's Choice." The ending of this book upset me so badly that I feel awful for ever making that joke. I've rarely been so crushed by a novel.
Styron is less interested in Sophie's choice than in the fact that she was forced to make it. Here's the worst thing in the world, he says. Styron didn't make the choice up; he got it from Hannah Arendt, who says she got it from Camus. But could it happen? Of course it could; if we can't prove this exact story, we have ample proof of stories like it. Who could do it? Could you do it? Could someone be doing it right now?
Styron believes that evil can happen anywhere, any time, to anyone. It could be happening now, as you read this review. Maybe you're eating a banana. You are not intrinsically better than slaveowners or Nazis. You're lucky that as yet you haven't had to decide whether to resist or submit. He asks:
The query: "At Auschwitz, tell me, where was God?"
And the answer: "Where was man?鈥�
Styron would like us to make sure we're prepared to be there.
January 20, 2020
If a novel leaves an indelible memory and evokes a deep and expansive personal response, I count it as a great book. As reader, my own story intersected this certainly autobiographical one in a special way, and I won鈥檛 be able to express my love for this book without telling both. I took a short course called 鈥淟iterature of the Holocaust鈥� in 1980, a couple of years before this came out. So I had familiarity with Wiesel, Barth, etc鈥� and had enjoyed Corrie Ten Boom鈥檚 movie earlier and Anne Frank. When I was in high school we talked a great deal about the holocaust, I hope they still do.
1982 was the year I saw the movie version of this, on the big screen, with my wife whom I married the following year and is upstairs sleeping in right now. I was 21, and the protagonist (Stingo) was also a 22 year old innocent suddenly living the life of a budding southern novelist in the big apple. It was 1947 and he was in the immigrant foreign Bronx neighborhood. Being from Kansas, I identified with this young fellow, and I have always loved narrator voice-over styles of movies. The film was breathtaking, especially Meryl Streep鈥檚 performance as Sophie, where her accents as a Polish multi-lingual refugee from the horrors of Auschwitz was, without exaggeration, one of the greatest dramatic feats in the history of film. My wife and I were already infatuated with her, having loved The Deer Hunter and The French Lieutenant鈥檚 Woman by then. But it was not only the beautiful filmmaking and dramatic story line, but the shattering tragedy of the story line is simply unparalleled, in my reading life anyway. Stingo鈥檚 obsession with sex reminds me of my younger self, as my wife to be and I were discovering ourselves after our longstanding conservative upbringing. On top of that, I had been raised and encouraged to understand the Holocaust, and its attendant horrors were fresh 鈥� in fact, it continues to haunt me, as I now see in our political climate the tolerance for hatred and the ease with which we can demonize the 鈥渙ther鈥�. The human psyche is vulnerable to fear which is all too easily channeled to hatred and can, sadly, erupt in genocide. For periods of my life I鈥檝e been more hopeful that humanity has moved to a more enlightened era, yet recently I see just how frail is that protective veneer. It saddens me, so when I finished this book last week it left me in something of a foreboding gloom. I鈥檝e always had a high tolerance for literary violence and strong subjects, as I want to face what鈥檚 really out there and hiding makes me even more anxious (think of the opening scene of Apocalypse Now 鈥� that鈥檚 the mindset). So I don鈥檛 regret reading this, in fact I welcome the anger and anxiety it evokes. My reading buddy at work loves history and I haven鈥檛 yet convinced him (but I will) that great fiction is more 鈥渞eal鈥� than facts / opinions. Sophie鈥檚 Choice is a great example of this: It is, in a way historical fiction about the holocaust. It brings to life in excruciating, sometimes excessively; detail what happened in Poland, Germany and America during and just after the Second World War. I have to believe this is largely autobiographical, reading about Styron鈥檚 life.
The book is big and messy, and Styron鈥檚 craft for storytelling, while jarringly dramatic, is not what one might consider skillful. I felt this way about Melville鈥檚 great work, that he had it in him and he just had to get it all out. I would guess this is Styron鈥檚 magnum opus, written later in life. He is, essentially, Stingo: A southern rube moved to the big city, somewhat smug and conceited about his own southern history, getting a rude awaking to the real world of jews, holocaust survivors, and how hatred is universal and intertwined. What Styron does exceptionally well, is bring the reader along with Stingo鈥檚 voyage of discovery, as he finds the truth is deeper, much/much deeper, than he could possibly even imagine. It is an awakening, and told through the narrator鈥檚 voice (one I could relate to, being raised on a farm in Kansas), was affecting. At over 600 pages, one can argue Styron needed an editor. In truth I loved the details, the incredible historical information that is unpacked. I learned a great deal about history in Poland (their brand of anti-Semitism was likely as strong as that in Germany 鈥� to say nothing of the Nazi movement in the US in the 1930s), actual people in Auschwitz and Treblinka and Birkenau. The character sketches were nuanced, exquisitely detailed, and some of the deepest and most interesting I鈥檝e read in fiction. Some interludes stretched the limits of credulity, but for me this was a minor flaw against a rich, majestic story. This book made me want to go back and read more and more deeply about what happened in Europe in the 1930s 鈥� I鈥檓 still stymied how it happened, the intersection of economic hardship, the fallout from WW1 decisions, and the freaky coincidence of factors that created the appetite for the murder of millions of people across Europe (and after, of course, it continues). Styron likes to show off his impressive vocabulary, perhaps he had a thesaurus in hand and he rarely failed to use one adjective when several were possible. The scholarship in this regard is heavy, but I found it accurate and often necessary as Styron really labored to evoke his world, and bring it to life for us.
The big reveal comes late, for Sophie (most of you probably know what it is), but her lover Nathan鈥檚 issues are at least as interesting for me. I actually think I diagnosed his conditions independent of the authors (this was published in 1979, but I suspect he was writing it for at least a decade). I鈥檓 pretty sure Nathan 鈥渉ad鈥� bipolar disorder, not paranoid schizophrenia (as told by the brother to Stingo in the late part of the book). Nonetheless, his mental deterioration and excessive use of stimulants, led to Nathan鈥檚 terrifying swings and abject horror of coming 鈥渄own鈥�, leading to much of the cruelty he foists on Stingo and the shockingly violent degradation of his one true love, Sophie. Stingo鈥檚 discoveries are the heart of the book, along with his frustrated sexuality, and telling the story from this point of view is the genius of Styron. There are books within books here, as Sophie recounts her own biography in the camps in terrifying detail. Stingo even conceives of a future novel to write, about Nat Turner from his native Virginia (Styron himself wrote such a book) 鈥� this to me was starkly autobiographical. Stingo tells the story many years hence, so the plotline is him telling it from his (sometimes directly quoted) journals from 2 decades earlier. Some might complain that this jumping around is disjointed 鈥� but it worked for me. He throws in a lot of foreign language from Sophie (French, Polish, German) along with the broken English, which added nice color and authenticity even if one doesn鈥檛 know the language.
I was actually glad to have seen the movie (usually I鈥檓 not) as it was so exceptional and peeked my interest in the author and story. The movie was just so exceptional. Usually I dislike seeing the movie first since I can鈥檛 get the actors faces out of my mind (it difficult in this case too). But the movie is tighter, exceptional, and more focused on the excellent drama. In fact I ordered it from Netflix and the disc ready to be queued up now 鈥� being a cold rainy Saturday in Missouri, and my wife and I with some time on our hand. I wonder if it will evoke 1982 for us again, when we were younger in our relationship, before 3 adult kids and our bodies became creakier. Bottom line, this book greatly enriched my experience with one of the greatest stories ever told in fiction (yes, it is that good).
1982 was the year I saw the movie version of this, on the big screen, with my wife whom I married the following year and is upstairs sleeping in right now. I was 21, and the protagonist (Stingo) was also a 22 year old innocent suddenly living the life of a budding southern novelist in the big apple. It was 1947 and he was in the immigrant foreign Bronx neighborhood. Being from Kansas, I identified with this young fellow, and I have always loved narrator voice-over styles of movies. The film was breathtaking, especially Meryl Streep鈥檚 performance as Sophie, where her accents as a Polish multi-lingual refugee from the horrors of Auschwitz was, without exaggeration, one of the greatest dramatic feats in the history of film. My wife and I were already infatuated with her, having loved The Deer Hunter and The French Lieutenant鈥檚 Woman by then. But it was not only the beautiful filmmaking and dramatic story line, but the shattering tragedy of the story line is simply unparalleled, in my reading life anyway. Stingo鈥檚 obsession with sex reminds me of my younger self, as my wife to be and I were discovering ourselves after our longstanding conservative upbringing. On top of that, I had been raised and encouraged to understand the Holocaust, and its attendant horrors were fresh 鈥� in fact, it continues to haunt me, as I now see in our political climate the tolerance for hatred and the ease with which we can demonize the 鈥渙ther鈥�. The human psyche is vulnerable to fear which is all too easily channeled to hatred and can, sadly, erupt in genocide. For periods of my life I鈥檝e been more hopeful that humanity has moved to a more enlightened era, yet recently I see just how frail is that protective veneer. It saddens me, so when I finished this book last week it left me in something of a foreboding gloom. I鈥檝e always had a high tolerance for literary violence and strong subjects, as I want to face what鈥檚 really out there and hiding makes me even more anxious (think of the opening scene of Apocalypse Now 鈥� that鈥檚 the mindset). So I don鈥檛 regret reading this, in fact I welcome the anger and anxiety it evokes. My reading buddy at work loves history and I haven鈥檛 yet convinced him (but I will) that great fiction is more 鈥渞eal鈥� than facts / opinions. Sophie鈥檚 Choice is a great example of this: It is, in a way historical fiction about the holocaust. It brings to life in excruciating, sometimes excessively; detail what happened in Poland, Germany and America during and just after the Second World War. I have to believe this is largely autobiographical, reading about Styron鈥檚 life.
The book is big and messy, and Styron鈥檚 craft for storytelling, while jarringly dramatic, is not what one might consider skillful. I felt this way about Melville鈥檚 great work, that he had it in him and he just had to get it all out. I would guess this is Styron鈥檚 magnum opus, written later in life. He is, essentially, Stingo: A southern rube moved to the big city, somewhat smug and conceited about his own southern history, getting a rude awaking to the real world of jews, holocaust survivors, and how hatred is universal and intertwined. What Styron does exceptionally well, is bring the reader along with Stingo鈥檚 voyage of discovery, as he finds the truth is deeper, much/much deeper, than he could possibly even imagine. It is an awakening, and told through the narrator鈥檚 voice (one I could relate to, being raised on a farm in Kansas), was affecting. At over 600 pages, one can argue Styron needed an editor. In truth I loved the details, the incredible historical information that is unpacked. I learned a great deal about history in Poland (their brand of anti-Semitism was likely as strong as that in Germany 鈥� to say nothing of the Nazi movement in the US in the 1930s), actual people in Auschwitz and Treblinka and Birkenau. The character sketches were nuanced, exquisitely detailed, and some of the deepest and most interesting I鈥檝e read in fiction. Some interludes stretched the limits of credulity, but for me this was a minor flaw against a rich, majestic story. This book made me want to go back and read more and more deeply about what happened in Europe in the 1930s 鈥� I鈥檓 still stymied how it happened, the intersection of economic hardship, the fallout from WW1 decisions, and the freaky coincidence of factors that created the appetite for the murder of millions of people across Europe (and after, of course, it continues). Styron likes to show off his impressive vocabulary, perhaps he had a thesaurus in hand and he rarely failed to use one adjective when several were possible. The scholarship in this regard is heavy, but I found it accurate and often necessary as Styron really labored to evoke his world, and bring it to life for us.
The big reveal comes late, for Sophie (most of you probably know what it is), but her lover Nathan鈥檚 issues are at least as interesting for me. I actually think I diagnosed his conditions independent of the authors (this was published in 1979, but I suspect he was writing it for at least a decade). I鈥檓 pretty sure Nathan 鈥渉ad鈥� bipolar disorder, not paranoid schizophrenia (as told by the brother to Stingo in the late part of the book). Nonetheless, his mental deterioration and excessive use of stimulants, led to Nathan鈥檚 terrifying swings and abject horror of coming 鈥渄own鈥�, leading to much of the cruelty he foists on Stingo and the shockingly violent degradation of his one true love, Sophie. Stingo鈥檚 discoveries are the heart of the book, along with his frustrated sexuality, and telling the story from this point of view is the genius of Styron. There are books within books here, as Sophie recounts her own biography in the camps in terrifying detail. Stingo even conceives of a future novel to write, about Nat Turner from his native Virginia (Styron himself wrote such a book) 鈥� this to me was starkly autobiographical. Stingo tells the story many years hence, so the plotline is him telling it from his (sometimes directly quoted) journals from 2 decades earlier. Some might complain that this jumping around is disjointed 鈥� but it worked for me. He throws in a lot of foreign language from Sophie (French, Polish, German) along with the broken English, which added nice color and authenticity even if one doesn鈥檛 know the language.
I was actually glad to have seen the movie (usually I鈥檓 not) as it was so exceptional and peeked my interest in the author and story. The movie was just so exceptional. Usually I dislike seeing the movie first since I can鈥檛 get the actors faces out of my mind (it difficult in this case too). But the movie is tighter, exceptional, and more focused on the excellent drama. In fact I ordered it from Netflix and the disc ready to be queued up now 鈥� being a cold rainy Saturday in Missouri, and my wife and I with some time on our hand. I wonder if it will evoke 1982 for us again, when we were younger in our relationship, before 3 adult kids and our bodies became creakier. Bottom line, this book greatly enriched my experience with one of the greatest stories ever told in fiction (yes, it is that good).
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
May 28, 2014
Confessional monologues to serve as counter narratives.
Flashbacks from an American boarding house to Auschwitz.
An intriguing love triangle.
Secrets and lies unfolding with each new chapter.
Sex, written with meticulousness.
This is how Styron gets you to stick with this intricately woven and stylistically stupendous novel.
Madness redefined. This is madness traced from characters鈥� thoughts, placed delicately on the page, and transformed into drama. Psychosexual drama. The trauma experienced by a Polish woman at Auschwitz, the ideological dilemmas a Southerner-turned-New Yorker and writer must confront, the double life an intellectual Northerner must live, are all compiled to highlight the psychological feat of this novel. It is a book about 鈥�1947, that cradle year of psychoanalysis in postwar America.鈥�
There is only so much you can say about a book that almost everyone has read or seen on the big screen.
But I will say this. Even with the angst and stupidity and trauma and depression and anxiety and ideology and drunken stupor and disdain of life and craft and art, each character seems to grow. With each turn of the page, something new develops, some story unwinds, some secret is revealed. This is what I liked most about this book鈥攅ven with the sad ending. Plus, the telling signs that a book has deeply influenced me: when I start to see the characters in real people, when I鈥檓 sad to return the book to the library because I鈥檓 certain that it is one I must own, when I鈥檓 reminded of some writing technique and I think, Styron!
There is something neurotic, melancholic and strangely pleasing about this novel鈥攅ven with its gilded prose and festooned paragraphs that at first strikes you as a writer trying too hard. Yes, here, tremendous effort was put forth to write an ambitious novel. Here, the effort was successful.
Now I must see the movie鈥�
Flashbacks from an American boarding house to Auschwitz.
An intriguing love triangle.
Secrets and lies unfolding with each new chapter.
Sex, written with meticulousness.
This is how Styron gets you to stick with this intricately woven and stylistically stupendous novel.
For synchronous with the stunning effect she made on my eyes as she stood there arrested in the doorway--blinking at the gloom, her flaxen hair drenched in the evening gold--I listened to myself give a thin but quite audible and breathless half-hiccup. I was still moronically in love with her.
Madness redefined. This is madness traced from characters鈥� thoughts, placed delicately on the page, and transformed into drama. Psychosexual drama. The trauma experienced by a Polish woman at Auschwitz, the ideological dilemmas a Southerner-turned-New Yorker and writer must confront, the double life an intellectual Northerner must live, are all compiled to highlight the psychological feat of this novel. It is a book about 鈥�1947, that cradle year of psychoanalysis in postwar America.鈥�
There is only so much you can say about a book that almost everyone has read or seen on the big screen.
But I will say this. Even with the angst and stupidity and trauma and depression and anxiety and ideology and drunken stupor and disdain of life and craft and art, each character seems to grow. With each turn of the page, something new develops, some story unwinds, some secret is revealed. This is what I liked most about this book鈥攅ven with the sad ending. Plus, the telling signs that a book has deeply influenced me: when I start to see the characters in real people, when I鈥檓 sad to return the book to the library because I鈥檓 certain that it is one I must own, when I鈥檓 reminded of some writing technique and I think, Styron!
There is something neurotic, melancholic and strangely pleasing about this novel鈥攅ven with its gilded prose and festooned paragraphs that at first strikes you as a writer trying too hard. Yes, here, tremendous effort was put forth to write an ambitious novel. Here, the effort was successful.
Now I must see the movie鈥�
September 11, 2008
By the time I learned the "true" story and the big reveal I just didn't care anymore. It is horrible that this is based on millions of true stories but this particular story could have been more succinct.
November 10, 2013
I finally finished it, yes all 600 pages, and my reaction to "Sophie's Choice" is mixed. I spent years urged by friends to read this book, but I was afraid of what I would find in its pages, especially being a mom. It turns out my fears were completely unfounded.
This book is not at all what I thought it would be--a moving story of one woman's time at Auschwitz and the awful things she endures there as a mother. That description covers only about 10% of what happens in this novel. "Sophie's Choice," first of all, was a recollection told mostly through the perspective of Stingo, an aspiring writer who befriends Sohpie and her abusive Jewish boyfriend, Nathan, in 1947 Brooklyn, NY, where they all live in the same apartment complex. At first, I found the young 20-something, Stingo, annoying because of his obsession with trying to get laid. But then, after I started to get further into the novel, I became grateful for the comic relief that his perspective offered. However, it was also painfully obvious that Stingo was indeed William Styron, so the perspective was at times overly self-indulgent and out of place. That said, I am well aware that Stingo is here to represent the naive American juxtaposed with the worldly wise and world weary European perspective of Sophie (a Polish Catholic), and that Stingo brings with him the American South's dark chapter of the history of slavery to parallel the Holocaust. But frankly, as one more than familiar with these themes, one who specializes in American literature, did Styron really have to be so redundant about it? This book was screaming for a good editor to lop off at least 200 pages from it's heft, most of which didn't add to the narrative, especially the parts that read like Stingo's dissertation, secondary sources about the Holocaust and all.
The other problem I have with this narrative is characterization, especially the characters of both Sophie and Nathan. There is so much missing from Sophie's characterization (maybe because she is viewed through the eyes of horny Stingo), and it keeps me from being fully emotionally connected to her throughout the narrative, and this for me is the novel's major shortcoming. And frankly, I just despised Nathan. I know Sophie is a masochistic victim who lived through some serious horrors. I know she made some choices she will never forgive herself for in the past, and so Nathan is the punishment she has inflicted on herself. But what the hell is Nathan's problem (besides the ones I won't mention here because I believe spoilers have no place in a book review)? He is an American born Jew, born into wealth and privilege, enough wealth that he can actually help himself to get better. Some of the scenes between Sophie and Nathan were more disturbing and horrific than the ones that took place at Auschwitz. Is that really what Styron hoped to accomplish?
This story is as much about lies as it is about choices, lies that we hide behind to protect ourselves. So what happens when we confess the truth? That is a question worth thinking about. In spite of the fact that this book is very well written with regard to Styron's use of language and the rhythm of his prose (thus, the 3 star rating), there was just too much hype preceding the book. Likewise, there was way too much build up in the book itself regarding the nature of Sophie's actual "choice" too. Then when he finally gets there, Styron glosses over it, and that was the one place I would have liked him to linger. That detracted from the emotional effect of it, at least for this reader. Now I look forward to seeing the film. Hopefully, it cleaned up some of Styron's messes.
This book is not at all what I thought it would be--a moving story of one woman's time at Auschwitz and the awful things she endures there as a mother. That description covers only about 10% of what happens in this novel. "Sophie's Choice," first of all, was a recollection told mostly through the perspective of Stingo, an aspiring writer who befriends Sohpie and her abusive Jewish boyfriend, Nathan, in 1947 Brooklyn, NY, where they all live in the same apartment complex. At first, I found the young 20-something, Stingo, annoying because of his obsession with trying to get laid. But then, after I started to get further into the novel, I became grateful for the comic relief that his perspective offered. However, it was also painfully obvious that Stingo was indeed William Styron, so the perspective was at times overly self-indulgent and out of place. That said, I am well aware that Stingo is here to represent the naive American juxtaposed with the worldly wise and world weary European perspective of Sophie (a Polish Catholic), and that Stingo brings with him the American South's dark chapter of the history of slavery to parallel the Holocaust. But frankly, as one more than familiar with these themes, one who specializes in American literature, did Styron really have to be so redundant about it? This book was screaming for a good editor to lop off at least 200 pages from it's heft, most of which didn't add to the narrative, especially the parts that read like Stingo's dissertation, secondary sources about the Holocaust and all.
The other problem I have with this narrative is characterization, especially the characters of both Sophie and Nathan. There is so much missing from Sophie's characterization (maybe because she is viewed through the eyes of horny Stingo), and it keeps me from being fully emotionally connected to her throughout the narrative, and this for me is the novel's major shortcoming. And frankly, I just despised Nathan. I know Sophie is a masochistic victim who lived through some serious horrors. I know she made some choices she will never forgive herself for in the past, and so Nathan is the punishment she has inflicted on herself. But what the hell is Nathan's problem (besides the ones I won't mention here because I believe spoilers have no place in a book review)? He is an American born Jew, born into wealth and privilege, enough wealth that he can actually help himself to get better. Some of the scenes between Sophie and Nathan were more disturbing and horrific than the ones that took place at Auschwitz. Is that really what Styron hoped to accomplish?
This story is as much about lies as it is about choices, lies that we hide behind to protect ourselves. So what happens when we confess the truth? That is a question worth thinking about. In spite of the fact that this book is very well written with regard to Styron's use of language and the rhythm of his prose (thus, the 3 star rating), there was just too much hype preceding the book. Likewise, there was way too much build up in the book itself regarding the nature of Sophie's actual "choice" too. Then when he finally gets there, Styron glosses over it, and that was the one place I would have liked him to linger. That detracted from the emotional effect of it, at least for this reader. Now I look forward to seeing the film. Hopefully, it cleaned up some of Styron's messes.
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