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賮賯胤 蹖讴 丿丕爻鬲丕賳
鬲乇噩蹖丨 賲蹖鈥屫囒屫� 賳氐蹖亘鬲丕賳 毓卮賯 亘蹖卮鬲乇 賵 乇賳噩 亘蹖卮鬲乇 亘丕卮丿 蹖丕 毓卮賯 讴賲鬲乇 賵 乇賳噩 讴賲鬲乇責
倬蹖丕賲丿賴丕蹖 賳禺爻鬲蹖賳 毓卮賯貙 賴賲蹖卮诏蹖 丕爻鬲 丕賲丕 倬購賱 丿乇 賳賵夭丿賴鈥屫池з勞� 丕蹖賳 乇丕 賳賲蹖鈥屫з嗀�. 丿乇 賳賵夭丿賴鈥屫池з勞� 丕賵 亘賴 丕蹖賳 賲蹖鈥屫ㄘз勜� 讴賴 乇丕亘胤踿 毓丕卮賯丕賳賴鈥屫ж� 亘丕 爻賳鬲鈥屬囏й� 乇丕蹖噩 丕噩鬲賲丕毓蹖 丿乇 鬲囟丕丿 丕爻鬲. 賴乇趩賴 爻賳卮 亘丕賱丕鬲乇 賲蹖鈥屫辟堌� 丌賳趩賴 毓卮賯 亘乇 丕賵 鬲丨賲蹖賱 賲蹖鈥屭┵嗀� 亘賴 噩丕蹖蹖 賲蹖鈥屫必池� 讴賴 丕氐賱丕賸 倬蹖卮鈥屫ㄛ屬嗃� 賳賲蹖鈥屭┴必�. 賮賯胤 蹖讴 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 亘丕 賱胤丕賮鬲 賵 禺賽乇丿蹖 讴賴 丿乇 丌賳 賲賵噩 賲蹖鈥屫操嗀� 乇賲丕賳蹖 丕爻鬲 丕夭 蹖讴蹖 丕夭 亘夭乇诏鬲乇蹖賳 鬲賵氐蹖賮鈥屭┵嗁嗀з� 賯賱亘 亘卮乇.
噩賵賱蹖賳 亘丕乇賳夭 賳賵蹖爻賳丿踿 爻蹖夭丿賴 乇賲丕賳 丕爻鬲貨 丕夭 噩賲賱賴 乇賲丕賳 丿乇讴 蹖讴 倬丕蹖丕賳 讴賴 丿乇 爻丕賱 鄄郯郾郾 亘乇賳丿踿 噩丕蹖夭踿 鈥屫ㄙ堏┴辟� 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 卮丿. 丿乇 爻丕賱 鄄郯郾鄯 噩賲賴賵乇蹖 賮乇丕賳爻賴 亘賴 丕賵 賳卮丕賳 卮賵丕賱蹖踿 賴賳乇 賵 丕丿亘 乇丕 丕毓胤丕 讴乇丿.
倬蹖丕賲丿賴丕蹖 賳禺爻鬲蹖賳 毓卮賯貙 賴賲蹖卮诏蹖 丕爻鬲 丕賲丕 倬購賱 丿乇 賳賵夭丿賴鈥屫池з勞� 丕蹖賳 乇丕 賳賲蹖鈥屫з嗀�. 丿乇 賳賵夭丿賴鈥屫池з勞� 丕賵 亘賴 丕蹖賳 賲蹖鈥屫ㄘз勜� 讴賴 乇丕亘胤踿 毓丕卮賯丕賳賴鈥屫ж� 亘丕 爻賳鬲鈥屬囏й� 乇丕蹖噩 丕噩鬲賲丕毓蹖 丿乇 鬲囟丕丿 丕爻鬲. 賴乇趩賴 爻賳卮 亘丕賱丕鬲乇 賲蹖鈥屫辟堌� 丌賳趩賴 毓卮賯 亘乇 丕賵 鬲丨賲蹖賱 賲蹖鈥屭┵嗀� 亘賴 噩丕蹖蹖 賲蹖鈥屫必池� 讴賴 丕氐賱丕賸 倬蹖卮鈥屫ㄛ屬嗃� 賳賲蹖鈥屭┴必�. 賮賯胤 蹖讴 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 亘丕 賱胤丕賮鬲 賵 禺賽乇丿蹖 讴賴 丿乇 丌賳 賲賵噩 賲蹖鈥屫操嗀� 乇賲丕賳蹖 丕爻鬲 丕夭 蹖讴蹖 丕夭 亘夭乇诏鬲乇蹖賳 鬲賵氐蹖賮鈥屭┵嗁嗀з� 賯賱亘 亘卮乇.
噩賵賱蹖賳 亘丕乇賳夭 賳賵蹖爻賳丿踿 爻蹖夭丿賴 乇賲丕賳 丕爻鬲貨 丕夭 噩賲賱賴 乇賲丕賳 丿乇讴 蹖讴 倬丕蹖丕賳 讴賴 丿乇 爻丕賱 鄄郯郾郾 亘乇賳丿踿 噩丕蹖夭踿 鈥屫ㄙ堏┴辟� 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 卮丿. 丿乇 爻丕賱 鄄郯郾鄯 噩賲賴賵乇蹖 賮乇丕賳爻賴 亘賴 丕賵 賳卮丕賳 卮賵丕賱蹖踿 賴賳乇 賵 丕丿亘 乇丕 丕毓胤丕 讴乇丿.
285 pages, Paperback
First published January 18, 2018
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About the author
Julian Barnes
164听books6,577听followersJulian Patrick Barnes is an English writer. He won the Man Booker Prize in 2011 with The Sense of an Ending, having been shortlisted three times previously with Flaubert's Parrot, England, England, and Arthur & George. Barnes has also written crime fiction under the pseudonym Dan Kavanagh (having married Pat Kavanagh). In addition to novels, Barnes has published collections of essays and short stories.
In 2004 he became a Commandeur of L'Ordre des Arts et des Lettres. His honours also include the Somerset Maugham Award and the Geoffrey Faber Memorial Prize. He was awarded the 2021 Jerusalem Prize.
In 2004 he became a Commandeur of L'Ordre des Arts et des Lettres. His honours also include the Somerset Maugham Award and the Geoffrey Faber Memorial Prize. He was awarded the 2021 Jerusalem Prize.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 3,024 reviews
February 26, 2018
This is Julian Barnes's latest offering, an author I absolutely adore. It is a profound and moving love story, and the complexities, intense suffering and heartbreak that accompanies it. It has Paul looking back on his only story, the love of his life, and his shifting perspectives as time passes. Barnes can be relied on for his well crafted beautiful prose and imagery, underscored by a musicality that beguiles and delights. The novel is split into three parts, and relates the story of 19 year old Paul, a Sussex University student who in 1963 meets and falls in love with 48 year old married Susan, who has children older than him and carries heavy emotional baggage from her personal history. What follows in a detailed examination of the repercussions on the people in their lives of their love affair amidst the middle class suburban attitudes, social norms and expectations of the period that the lovers are subject to.
Barnes uses the classic device of moving from first person narrative, to the second person and finally the third person to highlight the increasing distance that Paul injects into his love story, moving from the intense passion at the beginning to a more dispassionate approach. He is aware that his memories are unreliable and his thinking tainted by self delusion. What Barnes gives is his insights into the human condition, a subtle reflection and observations on the nature of love and the trajectory it follows for Paul, infused with an air of melancholia set in a specific time and place. Whilst there are echoes of Barnes previous novels, I found this a brilliant and thought provoking read that I recommend highly. Many thanks to Random House Vintage for an ARC.
Barnes uses the classic device of moving from first person narrative, to the second person and finally the third person to highlight the increasing distance that Paul injects into his love story, moving from the intense passion at the beginning to a more dispassionate approach. He is aware that his memories are unreliable and his thinking tainted by self delusion. What Barnes gives is his insights into the human condition, a subtle reflection and observations on the nature of love and the trajectory it follows for Paul, infused with an air of melancholia set in a specific time and place. Whilst there are echoes of Barnes previous novels, I found this a brilliant and thought provoking read that I recommend highly. Many thanks to Random House Vintage for an ARC.
January 31, 2018
.鈥淲ould you rather love the more, and suffer the more; or love the less, and suffer the less? That is, I think, finally, the only real question. You may point out 鈥揷orrectly 鈥搕hat it isn鈥檛 a real question. Because we don鈥檛 have the choice. If we had the choice, then there would be a question. But we don鈥檛, so there isn鈥檛. Who can control how much they love? If you can control it, then it isn鈥檛 love. I don鈥檛 know what you call it instead, but it isn鈥檛 love.鈥�.
Thus begins the latest novel by one of my favorite authors, Julian Barnes. I immediately knew, just by reading those words that I will be witness to a beautiful and heartbreaking love story which will leave me, after the last page, fulfilled by the exquisite writing but also spent from suffering along with the characters. I was entirely right.
.鈥淢ost of us have only one story (鈥�) that matters, only one finally worth telling. This is mine.鈥�.
The Author tells the story of Paul, a young man of 19 and his first love, Susan, a middle age married woman of 48. They meet in 1963 on the tennis court, where fate brought them together for a double match. They begin to spend more and more time together until they fall irremediably in love.
The novel is divided in three parts, the first chapter is written in first person and relates the beginning of the love story. The second part is a mixture of 1st and 2nd person and deals with the inevitable degradation and end love while the 3rd part, where we showed Paul鈥檚 remaining life, is written mostly in a detached 3rd person.
The authors explain his choices to use these narration techniques better than I could. .鈥淎nd first love always happens in the overwhelming first person. How can it not? Also, in the overwhelming present tense. It takes us time to realize that there are other persons, and other tenses. 鈥�.
鈥淏ut nowadays, the raucousness of the first person within him was stilled. It was as if he viewed, and lived, his life in the third person. Which allowed him to assess it more accurately, he believed. 鈥�
I thought that the change between 1st, 2nd and 3rd person narration to be of powerful effect and it worked very well to confer the intended atmosphere and tension. It was particularly compelling in the 2nd chapter which started in 1st person and moved to 2nd person when the relationship started to face problems and Susan changed. 2nd person is somewhat in between the personal 1st person and the 3rd, which suggests an intermediary state, where Paul鈥檚 efforts/failure to save Susan and their love transitions from the intense love and suffering to a more detached form.
If you read The Sense of An Ending, you get to immediately see the similarity between The Only Story and the 2011 Booker winner. They both deal with an older man looking back at his life and the unreliability of memory. If in The Sense of An Ending the theme is subtly introduced and we are left to discover it ourselves while reading, here it is expressed, out in the open through narrator鈥檚 words.
鈥淏ut here鈥檚 the first problem. If this is your only story, then it鈥檚 the one you have most often told and retold, even if 鈥揳s is the case here 鈥搈ainly to yourself. The question then is: do all these retellings bring you closer to the truth of what happened, or move you further away?鈥�
鈥淗e sometimes asked himself a question about life. Which are truer, the happy memories, or the unhappy ones? He decided, eventually, that the question was unanswerable.鈥�
鈥淪o, that familiar question of memory. He recognized that memory was unreliable and biased, but in which direction? Towards optimism? That made initial sense. You remembered your past in cheerful terms because this validated your existence. You didn鈥檛 have to see your life as any kind of triumph 鈥揾is own had hardly been that 鈥揵ut you did need to tell yourself that it had been interesting, enjoyable, purposeful. Purposeful? That would be pitching it a bit high. Still, an optimistic memory might make it easier to part from life, might soften the pain of extinction. But you could equally argue the opposite. If memory is biased towards pessimism, if, retrospectively, all appears blacker and bleaker than it actually was, then this might make life easier to leave behind.鈥�
I don鈥檛 know if the similarities were intentional or if there was laziness in finding new ideas. However, both novels are amazing and in the same time similar and different, both worth reading and living.
The Only Story is a story about and powerful love sorted to fail, about hope, social conventions, shame, unspoken guilt and loss. It is a beautifully written novel, as everything Barnes writes and I consider myself lucky to have been able to read this novel before it was published.
I want to thank to Julian Barnes, Random House UK/Vintage, and Netgalley for this copy in exchange for an honest review. I read and ARC and the quotes may change in the final version of the book.
Thus begins the latest novel by one of my favorite authors, Julian Barnes. I immediately knew, just by reading those words that I will be witness to a beautiful and heartbreaking love story which will leave me, after the last page, fulfilled by the exquisite writing but also spent from suffering along with the characters. I was entirely right.
.鈥淢ost of us have only one story (鈥�) that matters, only one finally worth telling. This is mine.鈥�.
The Author tells the story of Paul, a young man of 19 and his first love, Susan, a middle age married woman of 48. They meet in 1963 on the tennis court, where fate brought them together for a double match. They begin to spend more and more time together until they fall irremediably in love.
The novel is divided in three parts, the first chapter is written in first person and relates the beginning of the love story. The second part is a mixture of 1st and 2nd person and deals with the inevitable degradation and end love while the 3rd part, where we showed Paul鈥檚 remaining life, is written mostly in a detached 3rd person.
The authors explain his choices to use these narration techniques better than I could. .鈥淎nd first love always happens in the overwhelming first person. How can it not? Also, in the overwhelming present tense. It takes us time to realize that there are other persons, and other tenses. 鈥�.
鈥淏ut nowadays, the raucousness of the first person within him was stilled. It was as if he viewed, and lived, his life in the third person. Which allowed him to assess it more accurately, he believed. 鈥�
I thought that the change between 1st, 2nd and 3rd person narration to be of powerful effect and it worked very well to confer the intended atmosphere and tension. It was particularly compelling in the 2nd chapter which started in 1st person and moved to 2nd person when the relationship started to face problems and Susan changed. 2nd person is somewhat in between the personal 1st person and the 3rd, which suggests an intermediary state, where Paul鈥檚 efforts/failure to save Susan and their love transitions from the intense love and suffering to a more detached form.
If you read The Sense of An Ending, you get to immediately see the similarity between The Only Story and the 2011 Booker winner. They both deal with an older man looking back at his life and the unreliability of memory. If in The Sense of An Ending the theme is subtly introduced and we are left to discover it ourselves while reading, here it is expressed, out in the open through narrator鈥檚 words.
鈥淏ut here鈥檚 the first problem. If this is your only story, then it鈥檚 the one you have most often told and retold, even if 鈥揳s is the case here 鈥搈ainly to yourself. The question then is: do all these retellings bring you closer to the truth of what happened, or move you further away?鈥�
鈥淗e sometimes asked himself a question about life. Which are truer, the happy memories, or the unhappy ones? He decided, eventually, that the question was unanswerable.鈥�
鈥淪o, that familiar question of memory. He recognized that memory was unreliable and biased, but in which direction? Towards optimism? That made initial sense. You remembered your past in cheerful terms because this validated your existence. You didn鈥檛 have to see your life as any kind of triumph 鈥揾is own had hardly been that 鈥揵ut you did need to tell yourself that it had been interesting, enjoyable, purposeful. Purposeful? That would be pitching it a bit high. Still, an optimistic memory might make it easier to part from life, might soften the pain of extinction. But you could equally argue the opposite. If memory is biased towards pessimism, if, retrospectively, all appears blacker and bleaker than it actually was, then this might make life easier to leave behind.鈥�
I don鈥檛 know if the similarities were intentional or if there was laziness in finding new ideas. However, both novels are amazing and in the same time similar and different, both worth reading and living.
The Only Story is a story about and powerful love sorted to fail, about hope, social conventions, shame, unspoken guilt and loss. It is a beautifully written novel, as everything Barnes writes and I consider myself lucky to have been able to read this novel before it was published.
I want to thank to Julian Barnes, Random House UK/Vintage, and Netgalley for this copy in exchange for an honest review. I read and ARC and the quotes may change in the final version of the book.
April 25, 2018
"First love fixes a life forever: this much I have discovered over the years. It may not outrank subsequent loves, but they will always be affected by its existence. It may serve as model, or as counterexample. It may overshadow subsequent loves; on the other hand, it can make them easier, better. Though sometimes, first love cauterises the heart, and all any searcher will find thereafter is scar tissue."
When Paul was 19 years old and visiting his family in a stifling London suburb while on summer break from university, his mother encouraged him to visit the local tennis club. While silently mocking the self-important people who took their tennis seriously and themselves even more so, he is randomly partnered in a tournament with Susan Macleod. Despite the obvious differences between them鈥擲usan is in her late 40s, married, mother to two adult daughters, the two develop a strong bond.
Susan likes to tease Paul for his youthful braggadocio, his lack of real knowledge of the world around him and relationships, and his playful nature. Paul is utterly fascinated by Susan's sense of humor, her candidness about her unsatisfying marriage and her less-than-appealing husband, and the sense that she's not concerned or shocked by anything. After a long period of flirtation, the two become lovers.
Despite disapproval from his parents and some in the community around them, Susan and Paul carry out their relationship hidden in nearly plain sight. He spends a great deal of time at her house, being routinely welcomed and abused by her husband and daughters, and Paul wonders if everyone knows the truth and chooses not to delve too deeply, or if they're fooling everyone. An idealistic young man, he dreams of running away with her one day, rescuing her from the life she seems unhappily chained to.
"One of the things I thought about Susan and me鈥攁t the time, and now, again, all these years later鈥攊s that there often didn't seem words for our relationship; at least, none that fitted. But perhaps this is an illusion all lovers have about themselves: that they escape both category and description."
When the couple finally does flee to London and move in together, at first it seems like the realization of their (mostly Paul's) dreams. He has escaped his parents' disappointment and helped free Susan from a loveless and occasionally abusive marriage. But little by little, the cracks in their relationship begin to show themselves, the differences between them magnify, and Paul realizes that there is deeper unhappiness in Susan than he ever could imagine.
In The Only Story , Julian Barnes provides a meditation on first love, on the most impactful relationship in our lives, and how it shapes our later views on love, relationships, happiness, and trust. It's a longing, nostalgic look at what seemed like simpler times, before we realized what a hold the world had on us, and how factors beyond our feelings for one another can affect our relationships. It's also an insightful commentary on obligation, desire, commitment, and emotion.
Barnes is really a magnificent writer. I absolutely loved his book The Sense of an Ending (see my review), which I read seven years ago. But while I marveled at Barnes' use of language, emotion, and imagery, I didn't find this book particularly captivating. I was drawn in by the subject matter, but it moved very slowly, and meandered quite a bit. Paul also had a way of being coy with his narration, which frustrated me.
May-December romances are familiar literary fodder, and today, we're just as apt to read stories about younger men and older women, with the man being more affected than the woman. While Barnes definitely brings a few new twists to this age-old trope, I wish that The Only Story had a little more spark for me, so I could remember more than just how beautifully told the story was.
See all of my reviews at , or check out my list of the best books I read in 2017 at .
When Paul was 19 years old and visiting his family in a stifling London suburb while on summer break from university, his mother encouraged him to visit the local tennis club. While silently mocking the self-important people who took their tennis seriously and themselves even more so, he is randomly partnered in a tournament with Susan Macleod. Despite the obvious differences between them鈥擲usan is in her late 40s, married, mother to two adult daughters, the two develop a strong bond.
Susan likes to tease Paul for his youthful braggadocio, his lack of real knowledge of the world around him and relationships, and his playful nature. Paul is utterly fascinated by Susan's sense of humor, her candidness about her unsatisfying marriage and her less-than-appealing husband, and the sense that she's not concerned or shocked by anything. After a long period of flirtation, the two become lovers.
Despite disapproval from his parents and some in the community around them, Susan and Paul carry out their relationship hidden in nearly plain sight. He spends a great deal of time at her house, being routinely welcomed and abused by her husband and daughters, and Paul wonders if everyone knows the truth and chooses not to delve too deeply, or if they're fooling everyone. An idealistic young man, he dreams of running away with her one day, rescuing her from the life she seems unhappily chained to.
"One of the things I thought about Susan and me鈥攁t the time, and now, again, all these years later鈥攊s that there often didn't seem words for our relationship; at least, none that fitted. But perhaps this is an illusion all lovers have about themselves: that they escape both category and description."
When the couple finally does flee to London and move in together, at first it seems like the realization of their (mostly Paul's) dreams. He has escaped his parents' disappointment and helped free Susan from a loveless and occasionally abusive marriage. But little by little, the cracks in their relationship begin to show themselves, the differences between them magnify, and Paul realizes that there is deeper unhappiness in Susan than he ever could imagine.
In The Only Story , Julian Barnes provides a meditation on first love, on the most impactful relationship in our lives, and how it shapes our later views on love, relationships, happiness, and trust. It's a longing, nostalgic look at what seemed like simpler times, before we realized what a hold the world had on us, and how factors beyond our feelings for one another can affect our relationships. It's also an insightful commentary on obligation, desire, commitment, and emotion.
Barnes is really a magnificent writer. I absolutely loved his book The Sense of an Ending (see my review), which I read seven years ago. But while I marveled at Barnes' use of language, emotion, and imagery, I didn't find this book particularly captivating. I was drawn in by the subject matter, but it moved very slowly, and meandered quite a bit. Paul also had a way of being coy with his narration, which frustrated me.
May-December romances are familiar literary fodder, and today, we're just as apt to read stories about younger men and older women, with the man being more affected than the woman. While Barnes definitely brings a few new twists to this age-old trope, I wish that The Only Story had a little more spark for me, so I could remember more than just how beautifully told the story was.
See all of my reviews at , or check out my list of the best books I read in 2017 at .
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March 18, 2018Leaving this unrated. I've made it to 30% and this is an author I usually adore. His writing is wonderful as always but the plot just doesn't appeal. Quite frankly, I'm bored and just can't continue reading this. When a book is a chore to read the best thing to do is move on. It is what I have decided to do with sincere apologies to the author.
June 13, 2018
"Would you rather love the more, and suffer the more; or love the less, and suffer the less? That is, I think, finally, the only real question."This sentence, which introduced this most recent book of Julian Barnes to his potential readers, was pretty much my Achilles heel from Page 1. I don鈥檛 quite understand how you can adjust the levels of love, like making marks on a burette and letting the content drip as per your desire of colour and consistency of the final emotion. Quantifying love is beyond my comprehension.
And yet, there is a certain granular tenderness in this story of a young man and his (almost) thirty years senior lover that prevents this love story from turning into a chore.
Seen in the rearview mirror during his twilight years, Paul reminisces the first time his 19-years old self fell for the 48-years old married Susan at a Tennis Court when the two were brought, fortuitously, together to team up for a mixed doubles match, and that his feelings were near immediately reciprocated. Ignited by this act that was both adventurous and liberating, Paul and Susan built walls around them, barricading their respective families with a dangerous, and often confounding, indifference and pushing this affair out of their current state, both literally and geographically. But at their new abode, that stripped them off their familial clutches, love gets suddenly exposed to the calamities of habituation, expectations and ageing. As a result, a whole new world sprouts between the two 鈥� one where they commence playing from different sides.
Barnes鈥� signature prodding into the delicate gossamer of human dilemmas and questionable foibles is much on display here although the narrative veered to the unpleasant edge of excess a good many times. Of the three sections the novel is divided into, the first was a watertight bag that didn鈥檛 allow for any of my emotions to blossom. The characters appeared like a bunch left unanchored on a theatre stage, waiting for the director to give them a cue. But beyond those 80 odd pages, Barnes plays his magic trick and all of a sudden, the palette of love bursts open and renders an immersive experience. The turning points when love turns into duty, the duty into a burden, the burden into a gash and the gash into a permanent scar, are the crevices where Barnes resonated the most with me.
鈥滾ove was by its very nature disruptive, cataclysmic; and if it was not, then it was not love.鈥�There, he did speak my mind.
--
June 12, 2018
I recently read a sentence in another book that stayed with me.
鈥淭here comes a time in every man鈥檚 life when he looks back more than forward鈥�. ( fitting in Julian Barnes 鈥淭he Only Story鈥�)
This book is as much - about a man鈥檚 memories - fading memories as well-than it is about love.
鈥淗e sometimes asked himself a question about life. Which were truer, the happy memories, or unhappy ones? He decided, eventually, that the question was
unanswerable 鈥�.
鈥淗e remembered his own
early attempts to define love, back in the village, alone in his bed. Love, he had ventured was like a vast and sudden increasing of a lifelong frown鈥�.
Wow... bleak experience.
.....love is an increasing blessed smile for me ...
I found the beginning intriguing...part two the least interesting...and the last part the best ( sad)....but at least the narrator expressed his feelings more. He was more detached from his memories - yet most raw and vulnerable.
It鈥檚 debatable to me however that most of us have only one story worth telling that matters.
鈥淭here comes a time in every man鈥檚 life when he looks back more than forward鈥�. ( fitting in Julian Barnes 鈥淭he Only Story鈥�)
This book is as much - about a man鈥檚 memories - fading memories as well-than it is about love.
鈥淗e sometimes asked himself a question about life. Which were truer, the happy memories, or unhappy ones? He decided, eventually, that the question was
unanswerable 鈥�.
鈥淗e remembered his own
early attempts to define love, back in the village, alone in his bed. Love, he had ventured was like a vast and sudden increasing of a lifelong frown鈥�.
Wow... bleak experience.
.....love is an increasing blessed smile for me ...
I found the beginning intriguing...part two the least interesting...and the last part the best ( sad)....but at least the narrator expressed his feelings more. He was more detached from his memories - yet most raw and vulnerable.
It鈥檚 debatable to me however that most of us have only one story worth telling that matters.
August 31, 2018
I love Julian Barnes鈥� writing. His The Sense of an Ending and Levels of Life were brilliant. He is absolutely one of my favorite authors. That鈥檚 why it is so disappointing to not have enjoyed his most recent book The Only Story. The story of a 19 year old boy having an affair with a middle aged woman just wasn鈥檛 my thing.
I will of course be looking forward to his next endeavor!
3 out of 5 stars
I will of course be looking forward to his next endeavor!
3 out of 5 stars
December 11, 2018
2.5 stars rounded up
I declared 2017 the Julian Barnes year on account of reading and loving seven of his books.
The Sense of An Ending, while it is one of his most popular books, was my least favourite novel of his. The Only Story is somewhat similar to that one, as it has an older narrator, Paul, reminiscing about his nineteen-year-old self in the 1960s and his first love and relationship with Susan, a woman twenty-nine years his senior. You read that right. Honestly, I didn't have any qualms about that, I read books about younger men being seduced by older women before.
I would rather be outraged than bored. And oh my, it pains me to say this, but The Only Story was tedious, repetitive and I had to force myself to get back to reading it.
I don't know about you, but when I read about something taboo, forbidden, especially a risky love affair, I expect passion, animal attraction, a sense of inevitability and urgency. Even in the beginning of the relationship, there wasn't much fire. It was all so dry and passionless. It was all very proper without actually being proper. Why was Paul so taken with Susan? I couldn't tell you.
While the relationship lasts much longer than expected, unfortunately, it takes a very sad turn, as Susan becomes an alcoholic. That was painful to read about. At least, I felt something. I was even more annoyed with Paul and heartbroken for Susan.
As for the writing, there were a few paragraphs worth highlighting, especially in the beginning, but it became repetitive and drawn out. The shifts from the first-person narration, to second and then to third and again back to first were jarring.
Ultimately, I just didn't feel much about the characters and the writing wasn't outstanding to make up for the lack of a gripping story.
I've received this novel via NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review. Many thanks to Random House UK, Vintage Publishing for allowing me to read this novel.
I declared 2017 the Julian Barnes year on account of reading and loving seven of his books.
The Sense of An Ending, while it is one of his most popular books, was my least favourite novel of his. The Only Story is somewhat similar to that one, as it has an older narrator, Paul, reminiscing about his nineteen-year-old self in the 1960s and his first love and relationship with Susan, a woman twenty-nine years his senior. You read that right. Honestly, I didn't have any qualms about that, I read books about younger men being seduced by older women before.
I would rather be outraged than bored. And oh my, it pains me to say this, but The Only Story was tedious, repetitive and I had to force myself to get back to reading it.
I don't know about you, but when I read about something taboo, forbidden, especially a risky love affair, I expect passion, animal attraction, a sense of inevitability and urgency. Even in the beginning of the relationship, there wasn't much fire. It was all so dry and passionless. It was all very proper without actually being proper. Why was Paul so taken with Susan? I couldn't tell you.
While the relationship lasts much longer than expected, unfortunately, it takes a very sad turn, as Susan becomes an alcoholic. That was painful to read about. At least, I felt something. I was even more annoyed with Paul and heartbroken for Susan.
As for the writing, there were a few paragraphs worth highlighting, especially in the beginning, but it became repetitive and drawn out. The shifts from the first-person narration, to second and then to third and again back to first were jarring.
Ultimately, I just didn't feel much about the characters and the writing wasn't outstanding to make up for the lack of a gripping story.
I've received this novel via NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review. Many thanks to Random House UK, Vintage Publishing for allowing me to read this novel.
March 9, 2018
I鈥檇 forgotten how contemplative and funny Julian Barnes is. The mood of this novel is nostalgic and retrospective 鈥� but not saccharine. That a book so touching and tragic could be so ironic and amusing, and helplessly sad, and then end on a cold, blunt note struck me as realistic and sort of wonderful. I really admired the final pages. I don鈥檛 think it should have ended any other way. Our lives are often disastrous and heart-breaking, our minds flit back and forth, and sometimes we are cold and cruel, and sometimes we just appear that way, and sometimes we are so young, and almost always we get broken, and this looking-back and picking-apart by Barnes鈥檚 narrator, this drowning in what happened, and what was, and how it ended, was right up my alley. I enjoy it more now that it鈥檚 over, oddly. Perhaps it was triggering for me.
I didn鈥檛 realize that there was panic inside her. How could I have guessed? I thought it was just inside me. Now, I realize, rather late in the day, that it is in everyone. It鈥檚 a condition of our mortality. We have codes of manners to allay and minimise it, jokes and routines, and so many forms of diversion and distraction. But there is panic and pandemonium waiting to break out inside all of us, of this I am convinced. I鈥檝e seen it roar out among the dying, as a last protest against the human condition and its chronic sadness. But it is there in the most balanced and rational of us. You just need the right circumstances, and it will surely appear. And then you are at its mercy. The panic takes some to God, others to despair, some to charitable works, others to drink, some to emotional oblivion, others to a life where they hope nothing serious will ever trouble them again.
And when I see pairs of young lovers, vertically entwined on street corners, or horizontally entwined on a blanket in the park, the main feeling it arouses in me is a kind of protectiveness. No, not pity: protectiveness. Not that they would want my protection. And yet 鈥� and this is curious 鈥� the more bravado they show in their behavior, the stronger my response. I want to protect them from what the world is probably going to do to them, and from what they will probably do to each other.
And by that time he had made the most terrifying discovery of his life, one which probably cast a shadow over all his subsequent relationships: the realization that love, even the most ardent and the most sincere, can, given the correct assault, curdle into a mixture of pity and anger. His love had gone, had been driven out, month by month, year by year. But what shocked him was that the emotions which replaced it were just as violent as the love which had previously stood in his heart. And so his life and his heart were just as agitated as before, except that she was no longer able to assuage his heart. And that, finally, was when he had to give her back.
I didn鈥檛 realize that there was panic inside her. How could I have guessed? I thought it was just inside me. Now, I realize, rather late in the day, that it is in everyone. It鈥檚 a condition of our mortality. We have codes of manners to allay and minimise it, jokes and routines, and so many forms of diversion and distraction. But there is panic and pandemonium waiting to break out inside all of us, of this I am convinced. I鈥檝e seen it roar out among the dying, as a last protest against the human condition and its chronic sadness. But it is there in the most balanced and rational of us. You just need the right circumstances, and it will surely appear. And then you are at its mercy. The panic takes some to God, others to despair, some to charitable works, others to drink, some to emotional oblivion, others to a life where they hope nothing serious will ever trouble them again.
And when I see pairs of young lovers, vertically entwined on street corners, or horizontally entwined on a blanket in the park, the main feeling it arouses in me is a kind of protectiveness. No, not pity: protectiveness. Not that they would want my protection. And yet 鈥� and this is curious 鈥� the more bravado they show in their behavior, the stronger my response. I want to protect them from what the world is probably going to do to them, and from what they will probably do to each other.
And by that time he had made the most terrifying discovery of his life, one which probably cast a shadow over all his subsequent relationships: the realization that love, even the most ardent and the most sincere, can, given the correct assault, curdle into a mixture of pity and anger. His love had gone, had been driven out, month by month, year by year. But what shocked him was that the emotions which replaced it were just as violent as the love which had previously stood in his heart. And so his life and his heart were just as agitated as before, except that she was no longer able to assuage his heart. And that, finally, was when he had to give her back.
May 13, 2024
Editado em 6 /3/2020
As recorda莽玫es fazem-nos falta.
Julian Barnes mostra-nos que todos temos a nossa hist贸ria de amor, mesmo que tenha sido um fiasco, que se tenha desvanecido, que nunca tenha funcionado e mesmo que tenha sido apenas mental n茫o foi menos real.
Temos muitas hist贸rias, mas geralmente apenas contamos uma, a 煤nica hist贸ria, como o t铆tulo deste livro.
脡 um livro sobre o amor entre um jovem de dezanove anos e uma mulher mais velha, casada e m茫e de duas filhas, que inicia no primeiro ano da d茅cada de 60 e que, n茫o obstante a diferen莽a de idades e experi锚ncias, h谩 afinidades que ultrapassam gera莽玫es.
O livro 茅 dividido em tr锚s partes: nas duas primeiras 鈥� escritas na primeira pessoal do singular 鈥� acompanhamos esse amor, e na terceira parte 鈥� escrita na terceira pessoal do singular 鈥� temos uma mistura de observa莽茫o e mem贸ria, que n茫o 茅 de fiar, ora tendenciosa, ora optimista, ora pessimista.
Um tratado sobre o amor, a sexualidade, as rela莽玫es sociais, parentais ao longo de algumas d茅cadas.
脡 um livro s谩bio, maduro com o qual me identifiquei facilmente: j谩 dei muitas voltas ao sol, tamb茅m tenho a minha 煤nica hist贸ria.
Excertos:
芦O primeiro amor marca a vida para sempre: isso descobri eu com os anos. Pode n茫o desqualificar amores futuros, mas eles ser茫o sempre influenciados pela sua exist锚ncia. Pode servir de modelo ou de exemplo a refutar.禄 辫谩驳.92
芦No amor, tudo 茅 ao mesmo tempo verdadeiro e falso; 茅 o tema sobre o qual n茫o 茅 poss铆vel dizer nada de absurdo.禄 辫谩驳.220
As recorda莽玫es fazem-nos falta.
Julian Barnes mostra-nos que todos temos a nossa hist贸ria de amor, mesmo que tenha sido um fiasco, que se tenha desvanecido, que nunca tenha funcionado e mesmo que tenha sido apenas mental n茫o foi menos real.
Temos muitas hist贸rias, mas geralmente apenas contamos uma, a 煤nica hist贸ria, como o t铆tulo deste livro.
脡 um livro sobre o amor entre um jovem de dezanove anos e uma mulher mais velha, casada e m茫e de duas filhas, que inicia no primeiro ano da d茅cada de 60 e que, n茫o obstante a diferen莽a de idades e experi锚ncias, h谩 afinidades que ultrapassam gera莽玫es.
O livro 茅 dividido em tr锚s partes: nas duas primeiras 鈥� escritas na primeira pessoal do singular 鈥� acompanhamos esse amor, e na terceira parte 鈥� escrita na terceira pessoal do singular 鈥� temos uma mistura de observa莽茫o e mem贸ria, que n茫o 茅 de fiar, ora tendenciosa, ora optimista, ora pessimista.
Um tratado sobre o amor, a sexualidade, as rela莽玫es sociais, parentais ao longo de algumas d茅cadas.
脡 um livro s谩bio, maduro com o qual me identifiquei facilmente: j谩 dei muitas voltas ao sol, tamb茅m tenho a minha 煤nica hist贸ria.
Excertos:
芦O primeiro amor marca a vida para sempre: isso descobri eu com os anos. Pode n茫o desqualificar amores futuros, mas eles ser茫o sempre influenciados pela sua exist锚ncia. Pode servir de modelo ou de exemplo a refutar.禄 辫谩驳.92
芦No amor, tudo 茅 ao mesmo tempo verdadeiro e falso; 茅 o tema sobre o qual n茫o 茅 poss铆vel dizer nada de absurdo.禄 辫谩驳.220
May 13, 2019
The Only Story by Julian Barnes is an introspective retrospective on a first love and how it shaped the narrator鈥檚 life. I loved this thought provoking love story told many years later and the internal discussion about memories.
In part one, nineteen year old Paul is home from university for the summer and with his mother鈥檚 encouragement, he joins the local country club to play tennis. He is partnered with Susan, a married woman old enough to be his mother. Paul and Susan spend time together and as their lives intertwine, he meets Susan鈥檚 friend Joan, and Susan gets to know Paul鈥檚 college buddies. Paul falls in love, Susan is attracted to him, and the unlikely couple begins an affair. When their taboo relationship becomes public, they are kicked out of the country club. Young Paul is energized by the public disapproval, and despite her marriage, albeit loveless, the two travel together, and they live together for over a decade. There was love and romance, and everything was so good. This is how Paul wants to remember.
In part two Paul tells us all the things he remembers but would want to forget. They had borders living with them in the attic, Susan鈥檚 husband punched him and on another occasion he smashed her teeth in. Susan was an alcoholic and taking antidepressants. The realities of life are revealed and author Julian Barnes switches narration from first person, to third person as he distances himself from intense feelings of lust and love to disappointments and heartbreak.
Susan and Paul鈥檚 non traditional relationship was a beautiful love affair and at the same time marred by lies, abuse and alcohol. Paul discusses the idea that feeling less and lower expectations can protect you from too much emotion and hurt. His happiness is based on Susan, but her happiness has nothing to do with him. She is devoted to drinking and he takes that as rejection.
In the end, Paul can鈥檛 stop Susan from drinking so he leaves her, but every time she needs him, he goes to her. He is emotionally tethered and his love for her causes him to be angry and disgusted with himself, wondering if there is something to be said for feeling less.
The Only Story is a raw look at young love, memory and bias, and how over time you can gloss over difficult times to shape your memories. I enjoyed the author鈥檚 retelling of Paul and his falling in love with an older woman, his all in full commitment and his naivet茅, her baggage with her husband, children and her addictions, and how his love blinded him. Romantic and sad with love, forgiveness and continual heartbreak, this story is thought provoking when it comes to how we look back at our lives and remember certain things. Beautifully written and short in length, this is well worth the read.
Author interview included at
September 18, 2019
Love was by its very nature disruptive, cataclysmic; and if it was not, then it was not love.
I鈥檓 starting to have slight problem with Julian Barnes鈥� novels. While I still admire his dexterity and turn of phrase, he鈥檚 a great stylist and in every novel of him I鈥檝e read so far there always are plenty highlighted passages I particularly enjoyed but net effect leaves me increasingly a bit unsatisfied. So it happened with The noise of time I read last year and here is the same issue. I will say it again, I can鈥檛 find fault with his writing, it's the story itself that left me not entirely impressed. Neither I found it profound nor convincing. Romance of a youn man with much older woman is a theme old as the world and it鈥檚 hard to say something fresh that wouldn鈥檛 be cliche, that wouldn鈥檛 feel banal and well-worn. Yes, love is a puzzle and it may constantly mystify us. Sometimes one could mistake it for desire or sense of duty or even worse a pity. And we experience all these feelings here, the whole gamut of emotions, all the light and dark side of love are displayed yet something lacks.
The narrator of the novel is an adult Paul who after years returns to his only history. The novel is written in three parts and creates kind of love triptych. In the first part we have Paul remembering the beginnings of his relationship with Susan 鈥� their clandestine meetings, disapproval of Paul鈥檚 parents and castigatory comments of locals. This phase, told from first person perspective, feels the most enjoyable and innocent. The second scene brings quite serious problems and shows protagonists trying to arrange their life anew and Barnes shifts here to mostly second person narrative. Finally, the last element of the story focuses on Paul's life after lovers parted their ways and Barnes again changes narration to the third person this time. I've found this structure quite interesting and voice from the most involved to the almost detached very fitting and mirroring stages of their relationship. And even now writing these words I feel I should like this one more. Likeable protagonists not always are necessesary to be more engaged in the story. So the matter of me not especially liking anyone here, neither Paul and Susan nor his parents, her husband or daughters is the factor, I think. Though there was one character I liked, Joan, Susan鈥檚 old friend. Ageing, lonely woman with drinking problem, brusque and unkempt with dogs to keep her company. Hardly agreeable material and yet I liked her. The story is subtly told, with kind of tenderness that spoke to me but as a whole it won't leave a deeper mark, I'm afraid.
3,5/5
March 1, 2018
( 2.5 probably but I feel guilted into a 3 )
So.... it pains me a little to write this review because I really don't like to be so far outside of popular opinion on a book. It is perhaps a shame this is my first Julian Barnes novel as I know he is a much beloved author and his The Sense of an Ending is a popular Booker winner. There is no doubt you are in capable writerly hands when picking up this novel. My reactions to this are not indictments about the writing itself, which is mostly magnificent.
Ultimately I really disliked this. Since this is so blatantly wrong the fault must be entirely mine. I just could not overcome my absolute indifference to this love affair. I have no notion of the attraction between the two people central to this narrative. What I do know is he liked her tennis outfit with the green piping, he was oddly fascinated by her rabbity teeth and she like to call him her "dirty stop-out" . That really is the sum total of my understanding of what drew these two people together and it was just not enough to hang an entire life story on no matter how touching the mediations on love and it's life-long ramifications.
Plus I have questions. Why did Mr Mcleod seem so unperturbed by his wife bringing a 19 year lover home from tennis, he barely looks up from the gardening ? also her daughters reactions are largely left undocumented. What was Susans attraction to this seemingly self-absorbed young man, it appears to have nothing to do with sex as she announces herself frigid by why of introduction quite early on, and he doesn't sound particularly skilled in this area ( I mean the teeth were my first clue here ). Ultimately what Mrs Mcleod was thinking is frustratingly unknowable. We just know she is profoundly troubled and I would have liked a better handle on why.
Obviously, warmer hearts and more generous (or adept) readers than I will fill in the gaps required and will inevitably be much more open to this story, but as presented I was profoundly depressed by it and willed it all to be over.
( Sorry Neale ! )
So.... it pains me a little to write this review because I really don't like to be so far outside of popular opinion on a book. It is perhaps a shame this is my first Julian Barnes novel as I know he is a much beloved author and his The Sense of an Ending is a popular Booker winner. There is no doubt you are in capable writerly hands when picking up this novel. My reactions to this are not indictments about the writing itself, which is mostly magnificent.
Ultimately I really disliked this. Since this is so blatantly wrong the fault must be entirely mine. I just could not overcome my absolute indifference to this love affair. I have no notion of the attraction between the two people central to this narrative. What I do know is he liked her tennis outfit with the green piping, he was oddly fascinated by her rabbity teeth and she like to call him her "dirty stop-out" . That really is the sum total of my understanding of what drew these two people together and it was just not enough to hang an entire life story on no matter how touching the mediations on love and it's life-long ramifications.
Plus I have questions. Why did Mr Mcleod seem so unperturbed by his wife bringing a 19 year lover home from tennis, he barely looks up from the gardening ? also her daughters reactions are largely left undocumented. What was Susans attraction to this seemingly self-absorbed young man, it appears to have nothing to do with sex as she announces herself frigid by why of introduction quite early on, and he doesn't sound particularly skilled in this area ( I mean the teeth were my first clue here ). Ultimately what Mrs Mcleod was thinking is frustratingly unknowable. We just know she is profoundly troubled and I would have liked a better handle on why.
Obviously, warmer hearts and more generous (or adept) readers than I will fill in the gaps required and will inevitably be much more open to this story, but as presented I was profoundly depressed by it and willed it all to be over.
( Sorry Neale ! )
September 9, 2020
When reading this I had a few hours with not much to do so I read around 70% of it in one sitting. I think if I read it under different circumstances and had to stop and start it, I probably would have found it difficult to pick up again.
I wasn鈥檛 that keen on the storyline of a 19 year old young man falling in love with a 48 year old married woman but found that other circumstances, relationships and the time period made it more interesting.
I definitely felt similarities between this and his other work 鈥榯he sense of an ending鈥�. The use of 1st/2nd/3rd person was nice and I think it helped this novel. However the end was a little too drawn out for me.
Overall I was left feeling slightly sad as a result of reading this book.
I wasn鈥檛 that keen on the storyline of a 19 year old young man falling in love with a 48 year old married woman but found that other circumstances, relationships and the time period made it more interesting.
I definitely felt similarities between this and his other work 鈥榯he sense of an ending鈥�. The use of 1st/2nd/3rd person was nice and I think it helped this novel. However the end was a little too drawn out for me.
Overall I was left feeling slightly sad as a result of reading this book.
April 28, 2018
From some late state in mature life, Paul finds he still believes that 鈥渓ove is the only story鈥� and feels compelled to tell the story of how in his youth at 19 years he took up fulfilling that mission with gusto in his love for one Susan McLeod. That she was nearly 30 years older than him made for some interesting challenges to his ideals. Though we鈥檝e seen age disparities in books and movies before, I鈥檒l admit it was a challenge for me to suspend my disbelief with that many decades of difference. But the inevitable conditioning to more easily accept an older man and younger woman pairing and my desire not to be ageist in matters of love spurred me on to submerge myself in this rendition.
It all starts with Paul learning to play tennis at his parents鈥� country club in their suburban upscale community outside of London. He has a great time partnering with Susan in doubles and appreciates her feistiness, her self-deprecating humor, and her wit at the expense of aristocratic pretensions.
She laughs at life, this is part of her essence. And no one else in her played-out generation does the same. She laughs at what I laugh at. She also laughs at hitting me on the head with a tennis ball; at the idea of having a sherry party with my parents; she laughs at her husband, just as she does when crashing the gears of the Austin shooting brake. Naturally, I assume she laughs at life because she has seen a great deal of it, and understands it.
Her husband seems an alcoholic buffoon and takes little notice how much time he and Susan spend together as companions. That her husband turns out to be periodically abusive to Susan and even to Paul helps convince Paul of the rightness of crossing the line to a secret love relationship with Susan. Because of her many years of a sexless marriage, she is in many ways a novice at love as much as Paul. Of course, the delicious blossoming doesn鈥檛 stay secret for long, and some hard rain falls from the community, Paul鈥檚 family, and Susan鈥檚 grown daughters, who are close to Paul鈥檚 age (tagged as Miss G. and Miss N.S. for 鈥淢iss Grumpy鈥� and Miss Not So (Grumpy). Damn those torpedoes!
Like Paul, we the reader have a vested interest in seeing their relationship work, even though we can see likely tragedies lurking down the line. Paul makes a respectable story for himself and struggles to bend his sacrifices into fitting with that story. I joined with him as an 鈥渆veryman鈥� narrator as he nobly tries to pin down the core lessons and truths gained from attempting to live for love. All the aphorisms and famous quotes from literature are weighed from his experience. I felt keenly the thin ice he encounters when the accumulated evidence of fallibility of his memory emerges. Are his castles made of sand, his jousting against windmills? Does his ultimate ambivalence makes his raison d'etre a fool鈥檚 playbook?
I felt Barnes nursed out a lot of lasting truths about love, which is hard to accomplish these days given the vast river of literature delving into the subject. I felt some of the same pleasure from Krauss鈥� 鈥淭he History of Love鈥�, though that one was more playful and fanciful. Paul here defends the wisdom of going with loves flow at first without analysis:
The lover, in rapture, doesn鈥檛 want to 鈥渦nderstand鈥� love, but to experience it, to feel the intensity, the coming-into-focus of things, the acceleration of life, the entirely justifiable egotism, the lustful cockiness, the joyful rant, the calm seriousness, the hot yearning, the certainty, the complexity, the truth, the truth, the truth of love.
Truth and love, that was my credo. I love her, and I see the truth. It must be that simple.
Here we get some of his insights about the fear of love ending always seeming to intrude and take over the story any couple tries to build:
I didn鈥檛 realize that there was panic inside her. How could I have guessed? I thought it was just inside me. Now, I realize, rather late in the day, that it is in everyone. It鈥檚 a condition of our mortality. We have codes of manners to allay and minimize it, jokes and routines, and so many forms of diversion and distraction. But there is panic and pandemonium waiting to break out inside all of us, of this I am convinced. 鈥he panic takes some to God, others to despair, some to charitable works, others to drink, some to emotional oblivion, others to a life where they hope that nothing serious will ever trouble them again.
The business of judging one鈥檚 life in retrospect has a lot in common with the two other books by Barnes that I鈥檝e read. In 鈥淭he Sense of an Ending鈥�, a middle aged man puts out a lot of nostalgia over his life鈥檚 course and reveals his account of bad behavior in the past to be unreliable from biased memory. In the 鈥淣oise of Time鈥�, an account of the interior life of the Russian musician Shostakovich also shows a man struggling to contrive justifications for the sacrifices and compromises he made to succeed in the Soviet system, to the detriment of integrity and fairness to his family. Paul is definitely more charming, fundamentally good, and lovable compared to these other two lead characters. The undertow he comes up against is specific to his trajectory, but it felt universal as well.
This book was provided for review through the 鈥淔irst to Read鈥� program of Penguin Random House.
It all starts with Paul learning to play tennis at his parents鈥� country club in their suburban upscale community outside of London. He has a great time partnering with Susan in doubles and appreciates her feistiness, her self-deprecating humor, and her wit at the expense of aristocratic pretensions.
She laughs at life, this is part of her essence. And no one else in her played-out generation does the same. She laughs at what I laugh at. She also laughs at hitting me on the head with a tennis ball; at the idea of having a sherry party with my parents; she laughs at her husband, just as she does when crashing the gears of the Austin shooting brake. Naturally, I assume she laughs at life because she has seen a great deal of it, and understands it.
Her husband seems an alcoholic buffoon and takes little notice how much time he and Susan spend together as companions. That her husband turns out to be periodically abusive to Susan and even to Paul helps convince Paul of the rightness of crossing the line to a secret love relationship with Susan. Because of her many years of a sexless marriage, she is in many ways a novice at love as much as Paul. Of course, the delicious blossoming doesn鈥檛 stay secret for long, and some hard rain falls from the community, Paul鈥檚 family, and Susan鈥檚 grown daughters, who are close to Paul鈥檚 age (tagged as Miss G. and Miss N.S. for 鈥淢iss Grumpy鈥� and Miss Not So (Grumpy). Damn those torpedoes!
Like Paul, we the reader have a vested interest in seeing their relationship work, even though we can see likely tragedies lurking down the line. Paul makes a respectable story for himself and struggles to bend his sacrifices into fitting with that story. I joined with him as an 鈥渆veryman鈥� narrator as he nobly tries to pin down the core lessons and truths gained from attempting to live for love. All the aphorisms and famous quotes from literature are weighed from his experience. I felt keenly the thin ice he encounters when the accumulated evidence of fallibility of his memory emerges. Are his castles made of sand, his jousting against windmills? Does his ultimate ambivalence makes his raison d'etre a fool鈥檚 playbook?
I felt Barnes nursed out a lot of lasting truths about love, which is hard to accomplish these days given the vast river of literature delving into the subject. I felt some of the same pleasure from Krauss鈥� 鈥淭he History of Love鈥�, though that one was more playful and fanciful. Paul here defends the wisdom of going with loves flow at first without analysis:
The lover, in rapture, doesn鈥檛 want to 鈥渦nderstand鈥� love, but to experience it, to feel the intensity, the coming-into-focus of things, the acceleration of life, the entirely justifiable egotism, the lustful cockiness, the joyful rant, the calm seriousness, the hot yearning, the certainty, the complexity, the truth, the truth, the truth of love.
Truth and love, that was my credo. I love her, and I see the truth. It must be that simple.
Here we get some of his insights about the fear of love ending always seeming to intrude and take over the story any couple tries to build:
I didn鈥檛 realize that there was panic inside her. How could I have guessed? I thought it was just inside me. Now, I realize, rather late in the day, that it is in everyone. It鈥檚 a condition of our mortality. We have codes of manners to allay and minimize it, jokes and routines, and so many forms of diversion and distraction. But there is panic and pandemonium waiting to break out inside all of us, of this I am convinced. 鈥he panic takes some to God, others to despair, some to charitable works, others to drink, some to emotional oblivion, others to a life where they hope that nothing serious will ever trouble them again.
The business of judging one鈥檚 life in retrospect has a lot in common with the two other books by Barnes that I鈥檝e read. In 鈥淭he Sense of an Ending鈥�, a middle aged man puts out a lot of nostalgia over his life鈥檚 course and reveals his account of bad behavior in the past to be unreliable from biased memory. In the 鈥淣oise of Time鈥�, an account of the interior life of the Russian musician Shostakovich also shows a man struggling to contrive justifications for the sacrifices and compromises he made to succeed in the Soviet system, to the detriment of integrity and fairness to his family. Paul is definitely more charming, fundamentally good, and lovable compared to these other two lead characters. The undertow he comes up against is specific to his trajectory, but it felt universal as well.
This book was provided for review through the 鈥淔irst to Read鈥� program of Penguin Random House.
December 15, 2021
Most of us have only one story to tell. I don鈥檛 mean that only one thing happens to us in our lives: there are countless events, which we turn into countless stories. But there鈥檚 only one that matters, only one finally worth telling. This is mine.
Everyone has their love story. Everyone. It may have been a fiasco, it may have fizzled out, it may never even have got going, it may have been all in the mind, that doesn鈥檛 make it any less real. Sometimes, it makes it more real. Sometimes, you see a couple, and they seem bored witless with one another, and you can鈥檛 imagine them having anything in common, or why they鈥檙e still living together. But it鈥檚 not just habit or complacency or convention or anything like that. It鈥檚 because once, they had their love story. Everyone does. It鈥檚 the only story
The book is narrated by Paul some 50 years after, as a 19 year old, he commenced an affair with a much older, woman Susan, after the two are picked as mixed doubles partners (chosen by lot as the two remark at intervals later) and consists of her memories of their lengthy relationship.
But here鈥檚 the first problem. If this is your only story, then it鈥檚 the one you have most often told and retold, even if 鈥揳s is the case here 鈥搈ainly to yourself. The question then is: do all these retellings bring you closer to the truth of what happened, or move you further away?
You understand, I hope, that I鈥檓 telling you everything as I remember it 鈥︹€�. I think there鈥檚 a different authenticity to memory, and not an inferior one. Memory sorts and sifts according to the demands made on it by the rememberer 鈥�..
Immediately then we recognise that Julian Barnes is returning to some of the same themes and ideas as in his novel - which of course, won the Booker prize, against an infamous longlist picked by Stella Rimmington and her fellow jurors to be 鈥渞eadable鈥�. Perhaps ironically, Sense of An Ending failed to win the Costa Prize in the same year (the prize explicitly designed to reward books which make reading enjoyable) despite being shortlisted.
That book featured a narrator with unreliable memory and self-delusion, and an apparent resolution of a mystery at the end of the novel (albeit with the reader believing the actual truth may still differ). This novel is very different 鈥� the narrator is well aware of the subjectivity of his own memories and the ways in which he lied to himself over time, the only real mystery here is in the narrator trying to understand his true views on his experiences, and there is no resolution to be had there by narrator or reader.
The initial affair commences in a village in respectable, middle class, suburban Surrey, in the early 1960s (Paul one of the first intakes to Sussex University).
At first Paul comments
The time, the place, the social milieu? I鈥檓 not sure how important they are in stories about love. Perhaps in the old days, in the classics, where there are battles between love and duty, love and religion, love and family, love and the state. This isn鈥檛 one of those stories. But still, if you insist. The time: more than fifty years ago. The place: about fifteen miles south of London.
But the reader realises that the social conventions of the time are key to the novel 鈥� in particular a certain type of English resolution to avoid addressing difficult situations, and later Paul reflects
Another thing he had come to understand. He had imagined that, in the modern world, time and place were no longer relevant to stories of love. Looking back, he saw that they had played a greater part in his story than he ever realized. He had given in to the old, continuing, ineradicable delusion: that lovers somehow stand outside of time.
And in those two paragraphs something else changes 鈥� the first is in the second person, the second in the third person, and this is another important and distinctive aspect to the novel 鈥� as Paul looks back on his only story, the story of his first love, his tale changes over time in person 鈥� broadly starting in the first person (in the flush of the lengthy initial affair 鈥� carried out with Susan鈥檚 husband鈥檚 clear knowledge but also disgust), moving to the second person (as the relationship matures and Susan leaves her husband and becomes more difficult as Susan begins to drink) and then to the third person (as Susan lapse into complete alcoholism can no longer be denied or ignored), before poignantly returning to the first person. This progression is not entirely smooth and is mixed up with a much more irregular variation in tense between present and past.
Two crucial passages address this directly:
And first love always happens in the overwhelming first person. How can it not? Also, in the overwhelming present tense. It takes us time to realize that there are other persons, and other tenses.
And
For instance, he thought he probably wouldn鈥檛 have sex again before he died. Probably. Possibly. Unless. But on balance, he thought not. Sex involved two people. Two persons, first person and second person: you and I, you and me. But nowadays, the raucousness of the first person within him was stilled. It was as if he viewed, and lived, his life in the third person. Which allowed him to assess it more accurately, he believed.
Many themes, phrases (a washed out generation, Susan鈥檚 husband hitting a ball as though he hates it) and ideas which Paul remembers (or in some cases imagines/dreams) recur throughout the book - for example an indelible image which had pursued him down his life: of being at an upstairs window, holding on to Susan by the wrists.
Paul also collects in a notebook famous sayings on love, deleting or adding them as his ideas on love change 鈥� over time he realises that many concepts about love, and their exact opposites, apparently are equally true, and perhaps, and one of his favourite phrases is:
In love, everything is both true and false; it鈥檚 the one subject on which it鈥檚 impossible to say anything absurd
And ultimately, reflecting on his life-defining, joyous but impossibly difficult relationship with Susan, he reflects on the profound lines from Tennyson, which are so well known as to be almost banal, but which nevertheless get at the heart of the great unresolvable in Paul鈥檚 story:
One entry in his notebook was, of course: 鈥業t is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.鈥� That was there for a few years; then he crossed it out. Then he wrote it in again; then he crossed it out again. Now he had both entries side by side, one clear and true, the other crossed out and false.
I did find a small number of false notes 鈥� which seemed out of place in what is otherwise a meticulously crafted novel (just as we would expect from Barnes) - - a football terrace chant and most oddly of all (if acknowledged as such by Paul) a crassly obscene suggestion to Susan involving root vegetables. Other odd notes seem to have been randomly lifted from other writers. For example there is a passage on an interesting but rather detailed list of reasons on why people do crosswords (with various sub-bullets added) 鈥� which almost reminds me of ; a concept taken from a Formula One race commentary which stands out for its specificity (with the location of the race and the driver and commentator involved) in a book of generalizations, and perhaps reminds me more of ; and an obsession with Susan鈥檚 precious ears with their elegant helices which can only have been lifted straight from some working notes on a translation of .
But much of the imagery is very memorable 鈥� I particularly enjoyed
To remember her back to what he still thought of as her innocence: an innocence of soul. Before such innocence became defaced. Yes, that was the word for it: a scribbling-over with the wild graffiti of booze.
And the book contains much wisdom on love in particular, my favourite and one I have sadly learned myself over the years
Nowadays, at the other end of life, I have a rule of thumb about whether or not two people are having an affair: if you think they might be, then they definitely are.
Overall an excellent book 鈥� and one which poses already a quandry for this year鈥檚 Booker committee. Do they short/longlist it and get accused of conventionality (Barnes has been shortlisted for the Booker three times before winning it) or do they omit and thus ignore what is already I think likely to be one of the deservedly widest read literary books of 2018.
My thanks to Penguin Random House UK for an ARC via NetGalley.
December 10, 2023
鬲丕 丿賱鬲丕賳 亘禺賵丕賴丿 趩乇鬲 賵 倬乇鬲 毓丕卮賯丕賳賴 賳賵卮鬲賴 卮丿賴貙倬爻 丿蹖诏乇 賳蹖丕夭蹖 亘賴 丕賳诏卮鬲鈥屫з� 賳丿丕乇蹖丿...
芦亘亘禺卮蹖丿貙诏賵蹖丕 噩賲賱賴 丿乇 噩丕蹖 賲賳丕爻亘蹖 鬲賲丕賲 賳卮丿貙丕氐賱丕丨 賲蹖鈥屭┵嗁�:
*倬爻 丿蹖诏乇 賳蹖丕夭蹖 亘賴 丕賳诏卮鬲鈥屫з� 賳丿丕乇蹖丿 亘乇丕蹖 亘丕賱丕 丌賵乇丿賳...禄
[ 丌蹖丕 丕蹖賳 讴鬲丕亘 蹖讴 丌鬲 丌卮睾丕賱 丕爻鬲 責!_賴乇诏夭]
丕蹖賳 爻賵賲蹖賳 讴鬲丕亘蹖 亘賵丿 讴賴 丕夭 亘丕乇賳夭 禺賵丕賳丿賲 賵 丕夭 禺丿丕 讴賴 倬賳賴丕賳 賳蹖爻鬲 丕夭 卮賲丕 趩賴 倬賳賴丕賳貙丿賵爻鬲 丿丕卮鬲賲 亘丕 蹖讴 讴鬲丕亘 亘丿 胤乇賮 亘丕卮賲.
趩乇丕 責! 趩賵賳 丕诏乇 讴爻蹖 *鬲丕倬 鬲賳 賳賵蹖爻賳丿诏丕賳賲 乇丕 倬乇爻蹖丿貙丕爻賲 丕賵 芦亘丕乇賳夭禄丿乇 亘蹖賳 丌賳丕賳 賳亘丕卮丿貙丕賲丕 丕蹖賳 亘丕乇賳夭 賱毓賳鬲蹖 丨鬲蹖 蹖讴 乇賲丕賳 毓丕卮賯丕賳賴 乇丕 賴賲 卮丕賴讴丕乇 賲蹖鈥屬嗁堐屫池�...
亘乇丕蹖 禺賵丕賳賳丿賴鈥屫й� 亘賴 賲丕賳賳丿 賲賳貙亘丕乇賳夭芦丕賵禄蹖讴 賲毓卮賵賯賴 丕噩亘丕乇蹖爻鬲.賴乇噩丕 丕孬乇蹖 丕夭 丕賵 賲蹖 亘蹖賳賲貙鬲乇讴 丕禺鬲蹖丕乇 賲蹖鈥屭┵嗁� 賵 賲蹖禺賻乇賲.
讴鬲丕亘 亘丕 丕蹖賳 倬丕乇丕诏乇丕賮 卮乇賵毓 賲蹖鈥屫促堌�: 鬲乇噩蹖丨 賲蹖鈥屫囒屫� 賳氐蹖亘鬲丕賳 毓卮賯賽 亘蹖卮鬲乇 賵 乇賳噩賽 亘蹖卮鬲乇 亘丕卮丿 蹖丕 毓卮賯 讴賲鬲乇 賵 乇賳噩 讴賲鬲乇責 亘賴 賳馗乇賲貙丿乇 賳賴丕蹖鬲貙鬲賳賴丕 爻丐丕賱 賵丕賯毓蹖 賴賲蹖賳 丕爻鬲.
丨鬲蹖 丕诏乇 鄄鄹鄄 氐賮丨賴 丕蹖賳 讴鬲丕亘 禺丕賱蹖 亘賵丿 賵 丿乇 氐賮丨賴 鄄鄹鄢 賮賯胤 丕蹖賳 倬丕乇丕诏乇丕賮 賳賵卮鬲賴 賲蹖鈥屫簇� 亘丕 丕蹖賳 爻丐丕賱貙亘丕夭 賴賲 倬賳噩 爻鬲丕乇賴 乇丕 丕夭 賲賳 賲蹖鈥屭辟佖�...
[賮賯胤 蹖讴 丿丕爻鬲丕賳] 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 噩賵丕賳蹖 郾酃 爻丕賱賴 亘賴 賳丕賲 倬賱 丕爻鬲 讴賴 丨鬲蹖 賳賲蹖鈥屫з嗀� 毓卮賯 趩蹖爻鬲 丕賲丕 毓丕卮賯 賲蹖鈥屫促堌屫①� 賴賲 毓丕卮賯 夭賳蹖 趩賴賱 賵 賳賴 爻丕賱賴...
禺賵丿 倬賱 丿乇 丕蹖賳 賲賵乇丿 賲蹖鈥屭堐屫�:賴賲賴鈥屰� 賲丕 丿賳亘丕賱 蹖賴 噩丕蹖 丕賲賳 賴爻鬲蹖賲.
丕蹖賳 噩賵丕賳 讴賴 丿乇 禺丕賳賴 丕夭 丿爻鬲 賲丕丿乇卮 丿乇 *丕賲丕賳 賳蹖爻鬲貙丕賲賳蹖鬲 乇丕 丿乇 亘睾賱 夭賳蹖 噩爻鬲鈥屬堚€屫� 賲蹖鈥屭┵嗀屫操嗃� 賴賲鈥屫迟� 賲丕丿乇卮 讴賴 丿賵鬲丕 賴賲 丿禺鬲乇 丿丕乇丿 賵 蹖讴 卮賵賴乇 ...
鬲賳賴丕 丌乇夭賵蹖 丕賵 賲蹖鈥屫促堌� 賮乇丕乇 亘丕 爻賵夭丕賳...
蹖讴 賳賴 氐丿 丿賱 毓丕卮賯 賲蹖鈥屫促堌屫迟堌藏з� 亘賴 丕賵 賲蹖鈥屭堐屫� 讴賴 :賴蹖趩 趩蹖夭 丕賵賳 胤賵乇 讴賴 亘賴 賳馗乇 賲蹖鈥屫必迟� 賳蹖爻鬲貙倬賱.丕蹖賳 鬲賳賴丕 丿乇爻蹖賴 讴賴 賲蹖鈥屫堎嗁� 亘賴鬲 亘丿賲.
丕賲丕 禺亘 蹖丕丿诏蹖乇蹖 丕蹖賳 丿乇爻 亘乇丕蹖 倬賱 讴賲蹖 爻賳诏蹖賳 鬲賲丕賲 賲蹖鈥屫促堌屫ㄘ关� 丕夭 丿賴/丿賵丕夭丿賴 爻丕賱 蹖讴 卮亘 讴賴 丿乇丕夭 讴卮蹖丿賴 亘丕 禺賵丿卮 賲蹖鈥屭堐屫�:丿賳蹖丕蹖 丌丿賲 亘夭乇诏鈥屬囏� 賵丕賯毓丕 賴賲蹖賳 胤賵乇蹖 爻鬲責 丿乇 倬爻 賴賲賴鈥屰� 馗賵丕賴乇責
賵 丕氐賱 賲丕噩乇丕 丿乇 趩賴 毓賲賯蹖 倬爻賽 丌賳 馗賵丕賴乇 賳賴賮鬲賴 丕爻鬲 蹖丕 賳賴賮鬲賴 禺賵丕賴丿 亘賵丿責
丕丿丕賲賴 丿丕爻鬲丕賳賽 賮賯胤 蹖讴 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 乇丕 丿賵爻鬲 賳丿丕乇賲 亘乇丕蹖鬲丕賳 卮乇丨 丿賴賲 丕賲丕 丿乇 丌禺乇 丿賵 賳讴鬲賴:
賳讴鬲賴 丕賵賱:
倬賱 丿乇 倬丕蹖丕賳 賲蹖鈥屭堐屫�:賴乇讴噩丕 讴賴 蹖讴 夭賵噩 賲蹖鈥屫ㄛ屬嗁� 賲蹖禺賵丕賴賲 噩賱賵蹖 賲毓丕賲賱賴鈥屫й� 讴賴 丕丨鬲賲丕賱丕 丿賳蹖丕 亘丕 丌賳賴丕 禺賵丕賴丿 讴乇丿 丕夭卮丕賳 賲丨丕賮馗鬲 讴賳賲 賵 賴賲蹖賳胤賵乇 噩賱賵 讴丕乇蹖 讴賴 丕丨鬲賲丕賱丕 亘丕賴賲 禺賵丕賴賳丿 讴乇丿.
賳讴鬲賴 丿賵賲:
讴丕乇诏乇丿丕賳 賮賯蹖丿 爻蹖賳賲丕 倬賵賱丕賳爻讴蹖 賲蹖鈥屭堐屫�:
鬲賵 賵噩賵丿 賴乇 丌丿賲蹖 乇诏賴 賴丕蹖蹖 丕夭 丿诏乇丌夭丕乇蹖 賵 爻丕丿蹖爻賲 賵噩賵丿 丿丕乇賴... 賵 賲蹖丿賵賳蹖 趩賴 賵賯鬲 丕蹖賳 丨爻 亘蹖丿丕乇 賲蹖卮賴責 賵賯鬲蹖 賲蹖鈥屬佡囐呟� 蹖賴 賳賮乇 賵丕亘爻鬲賴鈥屫ж� 卮丿賴...
丨丕賱丕 丕蹖賳 卮賲丕 賵 丕蹖賳 賴賲 [賮賯胤 蹖讴 丿丕爻鬲丕賳]
芦亘亘禺卮蹖丿貙诏賵蹖丕 噩賲賱賴 丿乇 噩丕蹖 賲賳丕爻亘蹖 鬲賲丕賲 賳卮丿貙丕氐賱丕丨 賲蹖鈥屭┵嗁�:
*倬爻 丿蹖诏乇 賳蹖丕夭蹖 亘賴 丕賳诏卮鬲鈥屫з� 賳丿丕乇蹖丿 亘乇丕蹖 亘丕賱丕 丌賵乇丿賳...禄
[ 丌蹖丕 丕蹖賳 讴鬲丕亘 蹖讴 丌鬲 丌卮睾丕賱 丕爻鬲 責!_賴乇诏夭]
丕蹖賳 爻賵賲蹖賳 讴鬲丕亘蹖 亘賵丿 讴賴 丕夭 亘丕乇賳夭 禺賵丕賳丿賲 賵 丕夭 禺丿丕 讴賴 倬賳賴丕賳 賳蹖爻鬲 丕夭 卮賲丕 趩賴 倬賳賴丕賳貙丿賵爻鬲 丿丕卮鬲賲 亘丕 蹖讴 讴鬲丕亘 亘丿 胤乇賮 亘丕卮賲.
趩乇丕 責! 趩賵賳 丕诏乇 讴爻蹖 *鬲丕倬 鬲賳 賳賵蹖爻賳丿诏丕賳賲 乇丕 倬乇爻蹖丿貙丕爻賲 丕賵 芦亘丕乇賳夭禄丿乇 亘蹖賳 丌賳丕賳 賳亘丕卮丿貙丕賲丕 丕蹖賳 亘丕乇賳夭 賱毓賳鬲蹖 丨鬲蹖 蹖讴 乇賲丕賳 毓丕卮賯丕賳賴 乇丕 賴賲 卮丕賴讴丕乇 賲蹖鈥屬嗁堐屫池�...
亘乇丕蹖 禺賵丕賳賳丿賴鈥屫й� 亘賴 賲丕賳賳丿 賲賳貙亘丕乇賳夭芦丕賵禄蹖讴 賲毓卮賵賯賴 丕噩亘丕乇蹖爻鬲.賴乇噩丕 丕孬乇蹖 丕夭 丕賵 賲蹖 亘蹖賳賲貙鬲乇讴 丕禺鬲蹖丕乇 賲蹖鈥屭┵嗁� 賵 賲蹖禺賻乇賲.
讴鬲丕亘 亘丕 丕蹖賳 倬丕乇丕诏乇丕賮 卮乇賵毓 賲蹖鈥屫促堌�: 鬲乇噩蹖丨 賲蹖鈥屫囒屫� 賳氐蹖亘鬲丕賳 毓卮賯賽 亘蹖卮鬲乇 賵 乇賳噩賽 亘蹖卮鬲乇 亘丕卮丿 蹖丕 毓卮賯 讴賲鬲乇 賵 乇賳噩 讴賲鬲乇責 亘賴 賳馗乇賲貙丿乇 賳賴丕蹖鬲貙鬲賳賴丕 爻丐丕賱 賵丕賯毓蹖 賴賲蹖賳 丕爻鬲.
丨鬲蹖 丕诏乇 鄄鄹鄄 氐賮丨賴 丕蹖賳 讴鬲丕亘 禺丕賱蹖 亘賵丿 賵 丿乇 氐賮丨賴 鄄鄹鄢 賮賯胤 丕蹖賳 倬丕乇丕诏乇丕賮 賳賵卮鬲賴 賲蹖鈥屫簇� 亘丕 丕蹖賳 爻丐丕賱貙亘丕夭 賴賲 倬賳噩 爻鬲丕乇賴 乇丕 丕夭 賲賳 賲蹖鈥屭辟佖�...
[賮賯胤 蹖讴 丿丕爻鬲丕賳] 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 噩賵丕賳蹖 郾酃 爻丕賱賴 亘賴 賳丕賲 倬賱 丕爻鬲 讴賴 丨鬲蹖 賳賲蹖鈥屫з嗀� 毓卮賯 趩蹖爻鬲 丕賲丕 毓丕卮賯 賲蹖鈥屫促堌屫①� 賴賲 毓丕卮賯 夭賳蹖 趩賴賱 賵 賳賴 爻丕賱賴...
禺賵丿 倬賱 丿乇 丕蹖賳 賲賵乇丿 賲蹖鈥屭堐屫�:賴賲賴鈥屰� 賲丕 丿賳亘丕賱 蹖賴 噩丕蹖 丕賲賳 賴爻鬲蹖賲.
丕蹖賳 噩賵丕賳 讴賴 丿乇 禺丕賳賴 丕夭 丿爻鬲 賲丕丿乇卮 丿乇 *丕賲丕賳 賳蹖爻鬲貙丕賲賳蹖鬲 乇丕 丿乇 亘睾賱 夭賳蹖 噩爻鬲鈥屬堚€屫� 賲蹖鈥屭┵嗀屫操嗃� 賴賲鈥屫迟� 賲丕丿乇卮 讴賴 丿賵鬲丕 賴賲 丿禺鬲乇 丿丕乇丿 賵 蹖讴 卮賵賴乇 ...
鬲賳賴丕 丌乇夭賵蹖 丕賵 賲蹖鈥屫促堌� 賮乇丕乇 亘丕 爻賵夭丕賳...
蹖讴 賳賴 氐丿 丿賱 毓丕卮賯 賲蹖鈥屫促堌屫迟堌藏з� 亘賴 丕賵 賲蹖鈥屭堐屫� 讴賴 :賴蹖趩 趩蹖夭 丕賵賳 胤賵乇 讴賴 亘賴 賳馗乇 賲蹖鈥屫必迟� 賳蹖爻鬲貙倬賱.丕蹖賳 鬲賳賴丕 丿乇爻蹖賴 讴賴 賲蹖鈥屫堎嗁� 亘賴鬲 亘丿賲.
丕賲丕 禺亘 蹖丕丿诏蹖乇蹖 丕蹖賳 丿乇爻 亘乇丕蹖 倬賱 讴賲蹖 爻賳诏蹖賳 鬲賲丕賲 賲蹖鈥屫促堌屫ㄘ关� 丕夭 丿賴/丿賵丕夭丿賴 爻丕賱 蹖讴 卮亘 讴賴 丿乇丕夭 讴卮蹖丿賴 亘丕 禺賵丿卮 賲蹖鈥屭堐屫�:丿賳蹖丕蹖 丌丿賲 亘夭乇诏鈥屬囏� 賵丕賯毓丕 賴賲蹖賳 胤賵乇蹖 爻鬲責 丿乇 倬爻 賴賲賴鈥屰� 馗賵丕賴乇責
賵 丕氐賱 賲丕噩乇丕 丿乇 趩賴 毓賲賯蹖 倬爻賽 丌賳 馗賵丕賴乇 賳賴賮鬲賴 丕爻鬲 蹖丕 賳賴賮鬲賴 禺賵丕賴丿 亘賵丿責
丕丿丕賲賴 丿丕爻鬲丕賳賽 賮賯胤 蹖讴 丿丕爻鬲丕賳 乇丕 丿賵爻鬲 賳丿丕乇賲 亘乇丕蹖鬲丕賳 卮乇丨 丿賴賲 丕賲丕 丿乇 丌禺乇 丿賵 賳讴鬲賴:
賳讴鬲賴 丕賵賱:
倬賱 丿乇 倬丕蹖丕賳 賲蹖鈥屭堐屫�:賴乇讴噩丕 讴賴 蹖讴 夭賵噩 賲蹖鈥屫ㄛ屬嗁� 賲蹖禺賵丕賴賲 噩賱賵蹖 賲毓丕賲賱賴鈥屫й� 讴賴 丕丨鬲賲丕賱丕 丿賳蹖丕 亘丕 丌賳賴丕 禺賵丕賴丿 讴乇丿 丕夭卮丕賳 賲丨丕賮馗鬲 讴賳賲 賵 賴賲蹖賳胤賵乇 噩賱賵 讴丕乇蹖 讴賴 丕丨鬲賲丕賱丕 亘丕賴賲 禺賵丕賴賳丿 讴乇丿.
賳讴鬲賴 丿賵賲:
讴丕乇诏乇丿丕賳 賮賯蹖丿 爻蹖賳賲丕 倬賵賱丕賳爻讴蹖 賲蹖鈥屭堐屫�:
鬲賵 賵噩賵丿 賴乇 丌丿賲蹖 乇诏賴 賴丕蹖蹖 丕夭 丿诏乇丌夭丕乇蹖 賵 爻丕丿蹖爻賲 賵噩賵丿 丿丕乇賴... 賵 賲蹖丿賵賳蹖 趩賴 賵賯鬲 丕蹖賳 丨爻 亘蹖丿丕乇 賲蹖卮賴責 賵賯鬲蹖 賲蹖鈥屬佡囐呟� 蹖賴 賳賮乇 賵丕亘爻鬲賴鈥屫ж� 卮丿賴...
丨丕賱丕 丕蹖賳 卮賲丕 賵 丕蹖賳 賴賲 [賮賯胤 蹖讴 丿丕爻鬲丕賳]
April 13, 2018
螒位位慰 蔚谓伪 蠀蟺蔚蟻慰蠂伪 渭蔚位伪纬蠂慰位喂魏慰 尾喂尾位喂慰 伪蟺慰 蟿慰谓 蟺慰位蠀伪纬伪蟺畏渭蔚谓慰 渭慰蠀 韦味慰蠀位喂伪谓 螠蟺伪蟻谓蟼.蔚未蠅 位慰喂蟺慰谓 位蔚蔚喂 蟺慰位位蔚蟼,渭蔚纬伪位蔚蟼 魏伪喂 蟽魏位畏蟻蔚蟼 伪位畏胃蔚喂蔚蟼 -纬喂伪 伪位位畏 渭喂伪 蠁慰蟻伪- 蟽蠂蔚蟿喂魏伪 渭蔚 蟿慰谓 蔚蟻蠅蟿伪 魏伪喂 蟿喂蟼 蟽蠂蔚蟽蔚喂蟼.慰 蟺蟻蠅蟿伪纬蠅谓喂蟽蟿畏蟼 蟽蟿伪 19 蟿慰蠀 蠂蟻慰谓喂伪 魏伪位蔚喂蟿伪喂 谓伪 蔚谓畏位喂魏喂蠅胃蔚喂 纬谓蠅蟻喂味慰谓蟿伪蟼 蟿慰 渭蔚纬伪位慰 蟿慰蠀 蔚蟻蠅蟿伪 ,渭喂伪 纬蠀谓伪喂魏伪 蟺慰蠀 蟿慰谓 蟺蔚蟻谓伪 蟽蠂蔚未慰谓 30 蠂蟻慰谓喂伪!!慰渭蠅蟼 伪蠀蟿慰 魏伪胃慰位慰蠀 未蔚谓 蟿慰谓 蟺蟿慰蔚喂 魏伪胃蠅蟼 伪魏慰渭畏 蟺蔚蟻喂蟽蟽慰蟿蔚蟻慰 魏伪喂 伪蟺慰 蟿慰谓 蔚蟻蠅蟿伪 胃蔚位蔚喂 谓伪 味畏蟽蔚喂 蟿畏谓 蔚谓畏位喂魏喂蠅蟽畏.谓伪 魏慰谓蟿蟻伪蟻喂蟽蟿蔚喂 渭蔚 蟿畏谓 魏慰喂谓蠅谓喂伪, 渭蔚 蟿慰蠀蟼 纬慰谓蔚喂蟼 蟿慰蠀 魏伪喂 谓伪 魏伪谓蔚喂 伪蠀蟿慰 蟺慰蠀 胃蔚位蔚喂.魏伪喂 蔚谓蠅 喂蟽蠅蟼 魏伪蟺慰喂慰蟼 伪位位慰蟼 蟽蠀纬纬蟻伪蠁蔚伪蟼 胃伪 蔚尉蔚蟻蔚蠀谓慰蠀蟽蔚 慰位蔚蟼 伪蠀蟿蔚蟼 蟿喂蟼 蟻慰渭伪谓蟿喂魏蔚蟼 蟺蟿蠀蠂蔚蟼 渭喂伪蟼 蟿蔚蟿慰喂伪蟼 蟽蠂蔚蟽畏蟼, 慰 螠蟺伪蟻谓蟼, 慰蟺蠅蟼 蔚喂谓伪喂 蟺位蔚慰谓 伪谓伪渭蔚谓慰渭蔚谓慰 纬喂伪 蔚渭伪蟼 蟺慰蠀 位伪蟿蟻蔚蠀慰蠀渭蔚 蟿畏 纬蟻伪蠁畏 蟿慰蠀, 蔚蟽蟿喂伪味蔚喂 蟽蟿喂蟼 蟽魏慰蟿蔚喂谓蔚蟼 蟺位蔚蠀蟻蔚蟼 , 蟽蟿慰 蟻蔚伪位喂蟽渭慰 魏伪喂 蟽蟿伪 蟺蟻慰尾位畏渭伪蟿伪 蟺慰蠀 蟺蟻慰魏蠀蟺蟿慰蠀谓 渭蔚蟽伪 蟽蔚 渭喂伪 蟿蔚蟿慰喂伪 蟽蠂蔚蟽畏.
韦慰 尾喂尾位喂慰 蔚喂谓伪喂 蟿蟻蠀蠁蔚蟻慰, 伪蟺慰 蟿畏谓 伪位位畏 慰渭蠅蟼 蔚喂谓伪喂 蟽蠀纬魏喂谓畏蟿喂魏慰,渭蔚位伪纬蠂慰位喂魏慰 魏伪喂 蟺蔚蟻伪 纬喂伪 蟺蔚蟻伪 蟻蔚伪位喂蟽蟿喂魏慰.伪蠀蟿慰 伪魏蟻喂尾蠅蟼 位伪蟿蟻蔚蠀蠅 蟽蟿慰谓 螠蟺伪蟻谓蟼, 蟿喂蟺慰蟿伪 未蔚谓 蔚喂谓伪喂 蟺伪蟽蟺伪位喂蟽渭蔚谓慰 渭蔚 蠂蟻蠀蟽慰蟽魏慰谓畏 蟽蟿伪 渭蠀胃喂蟽蟿慰蟻畏渭伪蟿伪 蟿慰蠀.伪位位蠅蟽蟿蔚 慰蠀蟿蔚 魏伪喂 畏 味蠅畏 蔚喂谓伪喂 蔚蟿蟽喂.慰蠀蟿蔚 慰 蔚蟻蠅蟿伪蟼.慰蠀蟿蔚 慰喂 蟽蠂蔚蟽蔚喂蟼.魏伪喂 伪蠀蟿慰 蔚喂谓伪喂 慰魏, 魏蠀蟻喂蠅蟼 慰蟿伪谓 蟿畏谓 (渭慰谓伪未喂魏畏) 伪蠀蟿畏 喂蟽蟿慰蟻喂伪 蟿畏蟼 味蠅畏蟼 蟿慰蠀 伪谓伪位伪渭尾伪谓蔚喂 谓伪 蟿畏 未喂畏纬畏胃蔚喂 魏伪蟺慰喂慰蟼 蟺慰蠀 尉蔚蟻蔚喂 蟺慰位蠀 魏伪位伪 蟿慰谓 蟿蟻慰蟺慰, 慰蟺蠅蟼 慰 螠蟺伪蟻谓蟼..
韦慰 尾喂尾位喂慰 蔚喂谓伪喂 蟿蟻蠀蠁蔚蟻慰, 伪蟺慰 蟿畏谓 伪位位畏 慰渭蠅蟼 蔚喂谓伪喂 蟽蠀纬魏喂谓畏蟿喂魏慰,渭蔚位伪纬蠂慰位喂魏慰 魏伪喂 蟺蔚蟻伪 纬喂伪 蟺蔚蟻伪 蟻蔚伪位喂蟽蟿喂魏慰.伪蠀蟿慰 伪魏蟻喂尾蠅蟼 位伪蟿蟻蔚蠀蠅 蟽蟿慰谓 螠蟺伪蟻谓蟼, 蟿喂蟺慰蟿伪 未蔚谓 蔚喂谓伪喂 蟺伪蟽蟺伪位喂蟽渭蔚谓慰 渭蔚 蠂蟻蠀蟽慰蟽魏慰谓畏 蟽蟿伪 渭蠀胃喂蟽蟿慰蟻畏渭伪蟿伪 蟿慰蠀.伪位位蠅蟽蟿蔚 慰蠀蟿蔚 魏伪喂 畏 味蠅畏 蔚喂谓伪喂 蔚蟿蟽喂.慰蠀蟿蔚 慰 蔚蟻蠅蟿伪蟼.慰蠀蟿蔚 慰喂 蟽蠂蔚蟽蔚喂蟼.魏伪喂 伪蠀蟿慰 蔚喂谓伪喂 慰魏, 魏蠀蟻喂蠅蟼 慰蟿伪谓 蟿畏谓 (渭慰谓伪未喂魏畏) 伪蠀蟿畏 喂蟽蟿慰蟻喂伪 蟿畏蟼 味蠅畏蟼 蟿慰蠀 伪谓伪位伪渭尾伪谓蔚喂 谓伪 蟿畏 未喂畏纬畏胃蔚喂 魏伪蟺慰喂慰蟼 蟺慰蠀 尉蔚蟻蔚喂 蟺慰位蠀 魏伪位伪 蟿慰谓 蟿蟻慰蟺慰, 慰蟺蠅蟼 慰 螠蟺伪蟻谓蟼..
May 24, 2018
"In love. everything is both true and false; it's the one subject on which it's impossible to say anything absurd."
This is a lusciously written meditation on love by the incomparable Julian Barnes. The story is a simple one; an older man ruminates on his first love and the consequences rendered upon his life - but this telling is all about the journey, the truths being discovered and pondered, the gentle unraveling of a life and love gone by.
I loved this, but it does meander a bit in the end. Maybe meander isn't the right word; it gets more introspective with less "action" by the main characters - and some reviewers have found this "boring." I guess it depends on your preference for story over writing. I am a sucker for writing and I could eat Julian Barnes' writing with a spoon. He is precisely my cup of tea.
Recommended t0 fans of Barnes and Ian McEwan. Perhaps not at the level of "The Sense of an Ending," but lovely nonetheless.
This is a lusciously written meditation on love by the incomparable Julian Barnes. The story is a simple one; an older man ruminates on his first love and the consequences rendered upon his life - but this telling is all about the journey, the truths being discovered and pondered, the gentle unraveling of a life and love gone by.
I loved this, but it does meander a bit in the end. Maybe meander isn't the right word; it gets more introspective with less "action" by the main characters - and some reviewers have found this "boring." I guess it depends on your preference for story over writing. I am a sucker for writing and I could eat Julian Barnes' writing with a spoon. He is precisely my cup of tea.
Recommended t0 fans of Barnes and Ian McEwan. Perhaps not at the level of "The Sense of an Ending," but lovely nonetheless.
June 10, 2018
鈥楾he Only Story鈥� (2018) by Julian Barnes tells the story of one man 鈥� Paul and the one love, the only story, the single relationship that defines him, that determines his path in life.
There are echoes here of Barnes鈥� brilliant 鈥楽ense of an Ending鈥� 鈥� to which 鈥極nly Story鈥� is most definitely a worthy successor, but the two are both very different books, different stories to be told. In 鈥極nly Story鈥� Barnes is mapping the human heart and plotting the anatomy of a one-time functional, erstwhile highly dysfunctional and crumbling relationship 鈥� which is all-encompassing, life-determining 鈥� and Barnes writes here with such precision, such tenderness, such intensity and an almost forensic analysis of the dynamics, history and impact of such a relationship.
Barnes writes this story from the single but multiple perspectives of Paul 鈥� as a young (some might say) na茂ve and inexperienced 19 year old, embarking on a first meaningful relationship; from Paul living and breathing that relationship; from Paul as an older man 鈥� looking back at his life and recounting the relationship that came to determine him.
鈥楾he Only Story鈥� is a very authentic, truthful and intense story and there is little or no romanticism here, Paul is certainly an anti-heroic central protagonist in this story. There is much here also to consider about memory and truth and the deeply flawed nature of nostalgia.
鈥楾he Only Story鈥� is a very dark story, or at least a story that takes many dark turns 鈥� it is written so very well, with such clarity, depth of feeling, authenticity and sense of purpose. Whilst Barnes latest novel may not be quite up there with 鈥楽ense of an Ending鈥� 鈥� it is certainly extremely close. Highly recommended and not to be missed.
There are echoes here of Barnes鈥� brilliant 鈥楽ense of an Ending鈥� 鈥� to which 鈥極nly Story鈥� is most definitely a worthy successor, but the two are both very different books, different stories to be told. In 鈥極nly Story鈥� Barnes is mapping the human heart and plotting the anatomy of a one-time functional, erstwhile highly dysfunctional and crumbling relationship 鈥� which is all-encompassing, life-determining 鈥� and Barnes writes here with such precision, such tenderness, such intensity and an almost forensic analysis of the dynamics, history and impact of such a relationship.
Barnes writes this story from the single but multiple perspectives of Paul 鈥� as a young (some might say) na茂ve and inexperienced 19 year old, embarking on a first meaningful relationship; from Paul living and breathing that relationship; from Paul as an older man 鈥� looking back at his life and recounting the relationship that came to determine him.
鈥楾he Only Story鈥� is a very authentic, truthful and intense story and there is little or no romanticism here, Paul is certainly an anti-heroic central protagonist in this story. There is much here also to consider about memory and truth and the deeply flawed nature of nostalgia.
鈥楾he Only Story鈥� is a very dark story, or at least a story that takes many dark turns 鈥� it is written so very well, with such clarity, depth of feeling, authenticity and sense of purpose. Whilst Barnes latest novel may not be quite up there with 鈥楽ense of an Ending鈥� 鈥� it is certainly extremely close. Highly recommended and not to be missed.
May 5, 2019
In this sad and beautiful novel, Barnes contemplates how a person's biggest love story can shape a whole life. Now you can certainly question whether there generally is something like "the only story", but to me, that is beside the point: Once more, this gifted author finds the perfect words to describe complicated inner worlds and to illustrate what moves people, what irrevocably affects them, and how certain events and feelings shape people in a way that leaves them changed forever - for better or worse. Barnes is just a brilliant psychological author whose main topic is always the human heart and its strange workings.
Our protagonist is Paul who, at 19, falls in a love with Susan, a 48-year-old married mother of two. It's England in the 1960's, and Paul enjoys that his unusual, norm-defying relationship goes against the middle-class expectations of his family and the village - he is young, in love and causes scandal, so what could be more fun? Susan, on the other hand, is part of a generation that was young during the war and carries some baggage. Now both of them are part of an era of change, but their prerequisites and attitudes towards love, marriage and sex are very different. When Susan finally leaves her family for Paul, things go into a direction he (and the reader) didn't expect...
Barnes structures his book in three parts, and I just loved how he illustrated Paul's personal development by changing from a first person narration (#1), to a second-person narration adressed to Susan (#2) to a third-person narration (#3) in which the older Paul talks about his younger self - the entire story is told by an older Paul around 50 years after it happened. This whole strategy skillfully adds to the intensity of the novel and never feels forced - it sure takes a Julian Barnes to pull this off.
"The Only Story" is a wonderfully moving, intelligent and beautifully written book, and I am now determined to become a Barnes completist.
Our protagonist is Paul who, at 19, falls in a love with Susan, a 48-year-old married mother of two. It's England in the 1960's, and Paul enjoys that his unusual, norm-defying relationship goes against the middle-class expectations of his family and the village - he is young, in love and causes scandal, so what could be more fun? Susan, on the other hand, is part of a generation that was young during the war and carries some baggage. Now both of them are part of an era of change, but their prerequisites and attitudes towards love, marriage and sex are very different. When Susan finally leaves her family for Paul, things go into a direction he (and the reader) didn't expect...
Barnes structures his book in three parts, and I just loved how he illustrated Paul's personal development by changing from a first person narration (#1), to a second-person narration adressed to Susan (#2) to a third-person narration (#3) in which the older Paul talks about his younger self - the entire story is told by an older Paul around 50 years after it happened. This whole strategy skillfully adds to the intensity of the novel and never feels forced - it sure takes a Julian Barnes to pull this off.
"The Only Story" is a wonderfully moving, intelligent and beautifully written book, and I am now determined to become a Barnes completist.
February 7, 2018
An old man reminisces about the great love affair of his life, his affair with a woman 30 years older than himself whom he met and ran away with when he was just 19 and she 48, married and with two daughters older than Paul himself. It was never going to turn out well, and of course it doesn鈥檛. But for Paul it remains 鈥渢he only story鈥� and he shares it with the reader in exhaustive and ultimately repetitious and tedious detail. This is a solipsistic novel that assumes the reader is as interested in Paul鈥檚 great love affair as he is. He muses and reflects and as Susan herself points out 鈥淵ou know, Paul鈥ometimes I鈥檓 really disappointed in you鈥ou keep coming up with these banal comments and banal questions.鈥� And that鈥檚 the problem for me of this book 鈥� it鈥檚 a banal story that aspires to be something greater. But Paul, and by implication Barnes, isn鈥檛 up to it. He鈥檚 a cold fish. He stays with Susan while she self-destructs but it鈥檚 never clear why he does so. There doesn鈥檛 seem to be any passion, or even love, involved. In fact it鈥檚 never clear what the attraction is in the first place. And more importantly we never hear from Susan herself and it鈥檚 even less clear what she sees in Paul. Her marriage isn鈥檛 satisfactory but why she should throw everything up for a callow young man seems inexplicable. There鈥檚 a hint of misogyny here as well. It鈥檚 implied that if only Susan had been better able to cope then it would all have been fine, thus letting Paul off the hook. I felt uncomfortable all the way through this novel, which seems to me to be attempting to be profounder than it actually is. In essence it鈥檚 a pretty sordid tale hedged around with clich茅 and platitude, and ultimately it fails to convince.
January 6, 2018
"Most of us have only one story to tell. I don鈥檛 mean that only one thing happens to us in our lives: there are countless events, which we turn into countless stories. But there鈥檚 only one that matters, only one finally worth telling. This is mine."
In The Only Story, Barnes revisits a subject he explored in : the unreliable narrator, an older man looking back on his youth and trying to make sense of it. In the former book, we as readers worked out the inconsistency in the narration. Here, Paul, our narrator, is clear from the beginning that he cannot claim to be accurate:
"I'm not necessarily putting it down in the order that it happened. I think there鈥檚 a different authenticity to memory, and not an inferior one. Memory sorts and sifts according to the demands made on it by the rememberer. Do we have access to the algorithm of its priorities? Probably not. But I would guess that memory prioritises whatever is most useful to help keep the bearer of those memories going."
What we are presented with, then, is Paul鈥檚 attempt to collect his thoughts and feelings about events from 50-or-so years ago when, as a 19-year-old, he was involved in an affair with a much older woman. The events he is remembering, for the main part of the book, took place in England in the 1960s and social commentary plays an important part in the story alongside the events Paul is recollecting:
"鈥hat might the neighbours think, and who might subsequently refuse to come for sherry?"
And
"The fact that it would never come to court, that middle-class England had a thousand ways of avoiding the truth, that respectability was no more shed in public than clothes鈥�"
But, primarily, related in the first person, we read of Paul's meeting with and then affair with Susan. Then, related in the second person, we read about it starting to fall apart. Then related in the third person, we read about Paul's life afterwards. That鈥檚 a simplification, and there is actually a mixture of first, second and third person narration at times, but it gives you an idea. There is perhaps a clue about this in the following:
鈥漇ex involved two people. Two persons, first person and second person: you and I, you and me. But nowadays, the raucousness of the first person within him was stilled. It was as if he viewed, and lived, his life in the third person. Which allowed him to assess it more accurately, he believed.鈥�
It is as if Barnes is seeing youth as a time of self-centredness, all about me, with middle-age then bringing a sense of reflection and older-age leading to the third person, more detached assessment mentioned in the quote.
The three ages of man: me, you and he.
It would not be right to discuss the events of the book as that would spoil it. But Barnes is writing from his position as a man in his 70s who has observed life and has a gift to be able to write things down in a way that makes them sound obvious even if you haven鈥檛 especially thought them through. He writes a lot about love and a lot about the ageing process (there are many similarities with The Sense of an Ending, I think).
On love, he borrows a quote from elsewhere more than once:
"'In love, everything is both true and false; it鈥檚 the one subject on which it鈥檚 impossible to say anything absurd.'"
On ageing, he makes comments such as:
"Strange how, when you are young, you owe no duty to the future; but when you are old, you owe a duty to the past. To the one thing you can鈥檛 change."
And
"Back then, it had sounded like a counsel of despair; now, it struck him as normal, and emotionally practical."
This is a book filled with observations that could only really come from an older person. Sadly, I am getting to the age where I can relate to far too many of them (although I am about 10-12 years younger than Paul in the book). A sad story of love that goes wrong and the impact of that on the people involved. It is beautifully written - it is not often I sit and read over 200 pages with barely even a comfort break.
My thanks to Penguin Random House UK for a free ARC via NetGalley.
In The Only Story, Barnes revisits a subject he explored in : the unreliable narrator, an older man looking back on his youth and trying to make sense of it. In the former book, we as readers worked out the inconsistency in the narration. Here, Paul, our narrator, is clear from the beginning that he cannot claim to be accurate:
"I'm not necessarily putting it down in the order that it happened. I think there鈥檚 a different authenticity to memory, and not an inferior one. Memory sorts and sifts according to the demands made on it by the rememberer. Do we have access to the algorithm of its priorities? Probably not. But I would guess that memory prioritises whatever is most useful to help keep the bearer of those memories going."
What we are presented with, then, is Paul鈥檚 attempt to collect his thoughts and feelings about events from 50-or-so years ago when, as a 19-year-old, he was involved in an affair with a much older woman. The events he is remembering, for the main part of the book, took place in England in the 1960s and social commentary plays an important part in the story alongside the events Paul is recollecting:
"鈥hat might the neighbours think, and who might subsequently refuse to come for sherry?"
And
"The fact that it would never come to court, that middle-class England had a thousand ways of avoiding the truth, that respectability was no more shed in public than clothes鈥�"
But, primarily, related in the first person, we read of Paul's meeting with and then affair with Susan. Then, related in the second person, we read about it starting to fall apart. Then related in the third person, we read about Paul's life afterwards. That鈥檚 a simplification, and there is actually a mixture of first, second and third person narration at times, but it gives you an idea. There is perhaps a clue about this in the following:
鈥漇ex involved two people. Two persons, first person and second person: you and I, you and me. But nowadays, the raucousness of the first person within him was stilled. It was as if he viewed, and lived, his life in the third person. Which allowed him to assess it more accurately, he believed.鈥�
It is as if Barnes is seeing youth as a time of self-centredness, all about me, with middle-age then bringing a sense of reflection and older-age leading to the third person, more detached assessment mentioned in the quote.
The three ages of man: me, you and he.
It would not be right to discuss the events of the book as that would spoil it. But Barnes is writing from his position as a man in his 70s who has observed life and has a gift to be able to write things down in a way that makes them sound obvious even if you haven鈥檛 especially thought them through. He writes a lot about love and a lot about the ageing process (there are many similarities with The Sense of an Ending, I think).
On love, he borrows a quote from elsewhere more than once:
"'In love, everything is both true and false; it鈥檚 the one subject on which it鈥檚 impossible to say anything absurd.'"
On ageing, he makes comments such as:
"Strange how, when you are young, you owe no duty to the future; but when you are old, you owe a duty to the past. To the one thing you can鈥檛 change."
And
"Back then, it had sounded like a counsel of despair; now, it struck him as normal, and emotionally practical."
This is a book filled with observations that could only really come from an older person. Sadly, I am getting to the age where I can relate to far too many of them (although I am about 10-12 years younger than Paul in the book). A sad story of love that goes wrong and the impact of that on the people involved. It is beautifully written - it is not often I sit and read over 200 pages with barely even a comfort break.
My thanks to Penguin Random House UK for a free ARC via NetGalley.
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October 8, 2018鈥淐he cosa preferireste, amare di pi霉 e soffrire di pi霉, o amare di meno e soffrire di meno? Credo che, alla fine, l鈥檜nica vera domanda sia questa鈥�
Recensione:
Recensione:
April 25, 2019
A very different novel to , this book also shows that Barnes is still in great form. As others have said, this one shares a few elements with his Booker winner . Once again, we are looking back at the events of an older man's youth, and once again the nature of memory and love is a key theme. At times I was also reminded of his early novel .
The book has three sections, each of which has a different character.
The first part is narrated in the first person, and is a wonderful mixture of nostalgia and comic moments. It describes the narrator Paul's first serious love affair, which started in the early/mid 60s when he was a 19 year old student. As a temporary member of the local tennis club, he is paired with the middle aged housewife Susan in a mixed doubles tournament, and the two form a bond that blossoms into an affair, largely ignored by Susan's husband, who they call E.P. (elephant pants). By the end of this part, Susan has left her husband and she and Paul have moved to London together.
The second part, narrated in the second person, is much sadder, as it relates Susan's slow descent into alcoholism and mental illness, and her gradual estrangement from Paul.
The final part, mostly narrated in the third person, tells Paul's story from the point where he left Susan, and describes how their affair shaped the rest of his life.
As always Barnes is a fine story-teller, and the book is quite moving at times. Many seemingly incidental moments and observations are recalled later in the book, making me think it would reward re-reading.
The book has three sections, each of which has a different character.
The first part is narrated in the first person, and is a wonderful mixture of nostalgia and comic moments. It describes the narrator Paul's first serious love affair, which started in the early/mid 60s when he was a 19 year old student. As a temporary member of the local tennis club, he is paired with the middle aged housewife Susan in a mixed doubles tournament, and the two form a bond that blossoms into an affair, largely ignored by Susan's husband, who they call E.P. (elephant pants). By the end of this part, Susan has left her husband and she and Paul have moved to London together.
The second part, narrated in the second person, is much sadder, as it relates Susan's slow descent into alcoholism and mental illness, and her gradual estrangement from Paul.
The final part, mostly narrated in the third person, tells Paul's story from the point where he left Susan, and describes how their affair shaped the rest of his life.
As always Barnes is a fine story-teller, and the book is quite moving at times. Many seemingly incidental moments and observations are recalled later in the book, making me think it would reward re-reading.
October 21, 2018
螌渭蠅蟼, 伪蠀蟿萎 蔚委谓伪喂 畏 蠁蠉蟽畏 蟿蠅谓 蟽蠂苇蟽蔚蠅谓, 蠈位蠅谓 蟿蠅谓 蟽蠂苇蟽蔚蠅谓: 蟺维谓蟿慰蟿蔚 蠁伪委谓蔚蟿伪喂 谓伪 蠀蟺维蟻蠂蔚喂 魏维蟺慰喂伪 伪谓喂蟽慰蟻蟻慰蟺委伪, 蟿慰蠀 蔚谓蠈蟼 萎 蟿慰蠀 维位位慰蠀 蔚委未慰蠀蟼.
螒蠀蟿萎 畏 蠁蟻维蟽畏 蟿伪喂蟻喂维味蔚喂 纬喂伪 谓伪 蟺蔚蟻喂纬蟻维蠄蔚喂 魏伪喂 蟿畏 蟽蠂苇蟽畏 渭慰蠀 渭蔚 蟿慰 蟿蔚位蔚蠀蟿伪委慰 蟺蠈谓畏渭伪 蟿慰蠀 Barnes. 螖蠀蟽蟿蠀蠂蠋蟼, 蟿慰 伪蟺慰蟿苇位蔚蟽渭伪 蔚委谓伪喂 伪谓喂蟽蠈蟻蟻慰蟺慰.
危蟿慰 蟺蟻蠋蟿慰 魏蔚蠁维位伪喂慰, 蠈蟺慰蠀 尾位苇蟺慰蠀渭蔚 蟺蠋蟼 伪谓伪蟺蟿蠉蟽蟽蔚蟿伪喂 畏 蟽蠂苇蟽畏 伪谓维渭蔚蟽伪 蟽蟿慰谓 19蠂蟻慰谓慰 Paul 魏伪喂 蟿畏 48蠂蟻慰谓畏 Susan 蟽鈥� 苇谓伪 蟺蟻慰维蟽蟿喂慰 蟿慰蠀 螞慰谓未委谓慰蠀 蟿畏蟼 未蔚魏伪蔚蟿委伪蟼 蟿慰蠀 鈥�60, 苇蠁蟿伪蟽伪 慰蟻喂伪魏维 蟽蟿慰 蟽畏渭蔚委慰 谓伪 蟺伪蟻伪蟿萎蟽蠅 蟿慰 尾喂尾位委慰. 危蟿慰 蔚蟺蠈渭蔚谓慰 魏蔚蠁维位伪喂慰 尾位苇蟺慰蠀渭蔚 蟿畏 蟻蠅纬渭萎 蟽蟿畏 蟽蠂苇蟽畏 蔚尉伪喂蟿委伪蟼 蟿慰蠀 伪位魏慰慰位喂蟽渭慰蠉 蟿畏蟼 Susan 魏伪喂 蟽蟿慰 蟿蔚位蔚蠀蟿伪委慰, 慰 Paul, 50 蠂蟻蠈谓喂伪 渭蔚蟿维 蟿畏 纬谓蠅蟻喂渭委伪 渭蔚 蟿畏 Susan, 魏维谓蔚喂 渭喂伪 蔚谓未慰蟽魏蠈蟺畏蟽畏 魏伪喂 蟺蟻慰蟽蟺伪胃蔚委 谓伪 魏伪蟿伪位维尾蔚喂 蟿喂 未蔚谓 蟺萎纬蔚 魏伪位维.
螖喂伪尾维味慰谓蟿伪蟼 蟿慰 蟺蟻蠋蟿慰 魏蔚蠁维位伪喂慰, 苇蠁蟿伪蟽伪 慰蟻喂伪魏维 蟽蟿慰 蟽畏渭蔚委慰 谓伪 蟺伪蟻伪蟿萎蟽蠅 蟿慰 尾喂尾位委慰. 螤慰位蠉 蟻慰渭伪谓蟿喂魏蠈, 蟽蠂蔚未蠈谓 渭蔚位蠈, 纬喂伪 蟿伪 纬慰蠉蟽蟿伪 渭慰蠀 魏伪喂 魏慰喂谓蠈蟿慰蟺慰. 危蟿伪 蔚蟺蠈渭蔚谓伪 未蠉慰, 蔚蠀蟿蠀蠂蠋蟼, 蔚委未伪 谓伪 蔚渭蠁伪谓委味蔚蟿伪喂 蟿o 未蠀谓伪蟿蠈 蟽蟿慰喂蠂蔚委慰 蟿慰蠀 Barnes: 慰 魏蠀谓喂蟽渭蠈蟼. 螌渭蠅蟼, 未蔚 胃伪 蟿慰 魏蟻蠉蠄蠅, 尾伪蟻苇胃畏魏伪 伪蟻魏蔚蟿维. 螘委未伪 渭喂伪 蔚蟺伪谓维位畏蠄畏: 蟿慰 尾喂尾位委慰 魏喂谓蔚委蟿伪喂 伪谓维渭蔚蟽伪 蟽蟿慰 蟺蟻蠋蟿慰 蟿慰蠀 尾喂尾位委慰, 蟿慰 鈥淢etroland鈥� 魏伪喂 蟿慰 鈥� A Sense of an Ending鈥�, 魏伪喂 魏蠀蟻委蠅蟼 蟺蟻慰蟽蔚纬纬委味蔚喂 蟿慰 蟺蟻蠋蟿慰. 螕喂伪 蟺慰位位慰蠉蟼 伪蠀蟿蠈 蔚委谓伪喂 魏伪位蠈, 伪位位维 纬喂伪 渭苇谓伪 未蔚委蠂谓蔚喂 渭喂伪 苇位位蔚喂蠄畏 蠁蟻蔚蟽魏维未伪蟼 魏伪喂 蔚蟺伪谓伪位畏蠄喂渭蠈蟿畏蟿伪. 螘蟺委蟽畏蟼, 未蔚 渭慰喂维味蔚喂 谓伪 苇蠂蔚喂 慰蠉蟿蔚 蟿畏 未蠀谓伪渭喂魏萎 蟿蠅谓 未蠉慰 蟺蟻慰伪谓伪蠁蔚蟻胃苇谓蟿蠅谓 尾喂尾位委蠅谓. 韦慰 鈥淢etroland鈥�, 蟽蟿慰 慰蟺慰委慰 蔚委谓伪喂 蟺喂慰 魏慰谓蟿维, 萎蟿伪谓 苇谓伪 未蠀谓伪蟿蠈 谓蟿蔚渭蟺慰蠉蟿慰 魏伪喂 苇魏蟻蠀尾蔚 魏伪喂 渭喂伪 魏蟻喂蟿喂魏萎 伪蟺苇谓伪谓蟿喂 蟽蟿畏 渭蔚蟽伪委伪 伪蟽蟿喂魏萎 蟿维尉畏, 畏 慰蟺慰委伪 蔚未蠋 谓伪喂 渭蔚谓 蠀蟺维蟻蠂蔚喂, 伪位位维 蟺慰位蠉 蔚蟺喂蠁伪谓蔚喂伪魏维. 韦慰 鈥� A Sense of an Ending鈥� 蔚蟺委蟽畏蟼 渭慰蠀 未畏渭喂慰蠉蟻纬畏蟽蔚 苇谓蟿慰谓伪 蟽蠀谓伪喂蟽胃萎渭伪蟿伪, 蔚谓蠋 伪蠀蟿蠈 蠈蠂喂.
螔苇尾伪喂伪, 蠈蟽慰谓 伪蠁慰蟻维 蟿畏 纬蟻伪蠁萎 伪蠀蟿萎 魏伪胃伪蠀蟿萎, 苇蠂蔚喂 蔚谓未喂伪蠁苇蟻慰谓 畏 蔚谓伪位位伪纬萎 蟿慰蠀 伪蠁畏纬畏渭伪蟿喂魏慰蠉 蟺蟻慰蟽蠋蟺慰蠀 蟺慰蠀 蔚蟺苇位蔚尉蔚 慰 蟽蠀纬纬蟻伪蠁苇伪蟼 蟽伪谓 渭苇蟽慰 纬喂伪 谓伪 未蔚委尉蔚喂 蟿畏谓 蟺慰蟻蔚委伪 蟿畏蟼 蟽蠂苇蟽畏蟼: 蟺蟻蠋蟿慰 蟺蟻蠈蟽蠅蟺慰 蠈蟿伪谓 慰 蟺蟻蠅蟿伪纬蠅谓喂蟽蟿萎蟼 蔚委谓伪喂 蔚蟻蠅蟿蔚蠀渭苇谓慰蟼, 未蔚蠉蟿蔚蟻慰 蠈蟿伪谓 伪蟺慰渭伪魏蟻蠉谓蔚蟿伪喂 魏伪喂 畏 蟽蠂苇蟽畏 未喂伪位蠉蔚蟿伪喂 蟽喂纬维-蟽喂纬维 魏伪喂 蟿蟻委蟿慰 蠈蟿伪谓 蔚委谓伪喂 蟽蟿慰 蟿苇位慰蟼 苇谓伪蟼 伪魏蠈渭伪 蟺喂慰 未蠀蟽蟿蠀蠂喂蟽渭苇谓慰蟼 维谓胃蟻蠅蟺慰蟼, 蟺慰蠀 蟿慰 渭蠈谓慰 蟺慰蠀 魏维谓蔚喂 蔚委谓伪喂 谓伪 蟺蟻慰蟽蟺伪胃蔚委 谓伪 尾蟻蔚喂 蟿蟻蠈蟺慰蠀蟼 谓伪 未蔚委尉蔚喂 蟿畏 未蠀蟽蟿蠀蠂委伪 蟿慰蠀 魏伪喂 蟿喂蟼 蟿蠉蠄蔚喂蟼 蟿慰蠀.
危蔚 纬蔚谓喂魏苇蟼 纬蟻伪渭渭苇蟼, 蟿慰 尾喂尾位委慰 未喂伪尾维味蔚蟿伪喂 蔚蠉魏慰位伪, 渭喂伪蟼 魏伪喂 畏 伪蠁萎纬畏蟽畏 蟻苇蔚喂, 魏伪喂 尾位苇蟺慰蠀渭蔚 蟺慰位位维 胃蔚蟿喂魏维 蟽蟿慰喂蠂蔚委伪 蟿畏蟼 蔚蟻纬慰纬蟻伪蠁委伪蟼 蟿慰蠀 Barnes. 螒位位维 魏伪喂 渭喂伪 蔚蟺伪谓维位畏蠄畏 (未蠀蟽蟿蠀蠂蠋蟼). 螆蠂蠅 蟿畏谓 伪委蟽胃畏蟽畏 蠈蟿喂 蟽蔚 位委纬蔚蟼 渭苇蟻蔚蟼 未蔚 胃伪 胃蠀渭维渭伪喂 蟽蠂蔚未蠈谓 蟿委蟺慰蟿伪, 蟺伪蟻维 蟿慰 纬蔚谓喂魏蠈 feeling 蟿慰蠀 尾喂尾位委慰蠀.
June 16, 2018
A maverick 19-year-old Paul falls head over heels for a 48-year-old Susan who he sees as an age-agnostic free-spirit, and who's non-assuming manner always elevates his confidence. .
The story drags on from here, even after the woman turns out as an impostor. Regardless of that, we can all imagine that the initial luster fades over time as the boy grows up. The romantic love, "absolute' as in theory, is called upon to cement the decade-long responsibility....
I'd better reserve my judgement; after all the story was set in the mid-20th century.
My second Julian Barnes after the booker-winning The Sense of An Ending. Once again it felt much longer than the real length. I didn't quite get the purpose of changing point of views between parts. while reading, was later enlightened by GR friends' reviews. Yet I still think the story would have been more compelling had it been all in the first-person narrative.
There were numerous brilliant recollections on love . But for a love story it鈥檚 just too emotionally austere to me.
The story drags on from here, even after the woman turns out as an impostor. Regardless of that, we can all imagine that the initial luster fades over time as the boy grows up. The romantic love, "absolute' as in theory, is called upon to cement the decade-long responsibility....
I'd better reserve my judgement; after all the story was set in the mid-20th century.
My second Julian Barnes after the booker-winning The Sense of An Ending. Once again it felt much longer than the real length. I didn't quite get the purpose of changing point of views between parts. while reading, was later enlightened by GR friends' reviews. Yet I still think the story would have been more compelling had it been all in the first-person narrative.
There were numerous brilliant recollections on love . But for a love story it鈥檚 just too emotionally austere to me.
January 14, 2019
Pre(i)storia di un amore
芦Pensi che ti si schianter脿 il cuore. Adesso, qui, subito.禄
E se non ti si schianta subito, leggendo di quest鈥檜nica storia, poco ci manca. Perch茅 Barnes ha il pregio raro, comune a pochi eletti, di cambiare registro senza alcuno strappo, di saper trasformare in tragedia la commedia, di passare dalla prima alla terza persona in poche pagine e di coinvolgerti, con il TU, come se facessi parte di quell鈥檜nica storia, di passare dalla primavera-estate di un amore all鈥檃utunno-inverno dell鈥檈sistenza, con la stessa fluidit脿 di scrittura, con la stessa capacit脿 catalizzatrice delle prime battute del romanzo.
芦Abbiamo quasi tutti un鈥檜nica storia da raccontare. Non voglio dire che nella vita ci capiti una cosa sola; al contrario, gli avvenimenti sono tantissimi, e noi li trasformiamo in altrettante storie. Ma ce n鈥櫭� una sola che conta, una sola da raccontare alla fine. E questa 猫 la mia禄.
Se allora il tono della prima parte 猫 scanzonato e molto maschile (e per maschile non intendo privo di sensibilit脿 ma, al contrario, un concentrato di sensibilit脿 altra da quella femminile), la seconda, in cui il dramma si manifesta, lascia attoniti, nonostante le avvisaglie, per la repentinit脿 con la quale si manifesta, avviene e, infine, si compie.
Si fugge, per non essere travolti.
Ci si allontana, per mettersi in salvo.
Ci si sottrae, per non sommare la propria sconfitta a quella dell鈥檃ltro.
Ma cosa 猫 meglio, ci ammonisce Barnes sin dell鈥檌ncipit, che cosa preferiresti? Amare di pi霉 e soffrire di pi霉 o amare di meno e soffrire di meno?
E allora, ascoltando Paul, un "Casey" Paul settantenne, raccontarci della sua storia con Susan, iniziata quando lui era un inesperto e impacciato diciannovenne e lei una matura madre e moglie quarantottenne, assistendo all鈥檈voluzione della loro anticonvenzionale relazione nata sui campi da tennis di un sobborgo londinese, che la memoria (ancora la memoria, ancora il tempo, ancora il lato oscuro della mente che ricorda e non ricostruisce - 芦Io sto ricordando il passato, non lo sto ricostruendo禄 - scrive Barnes) scandaglia e rivive quasi in cerca dei segni che il giovane s茅 avrebbe dovuto individuare per scongiurare la fine, quella fine, ma anche quale ineluttabile accettazione del fatto che quella era e sarebbe stata l鈥檜nica storia possibile, che alternative non ce ne potevano essere, e che in ciascuno di noi resta impressa sulla carne, indelebile, quell鈥檜nica storia, felice o infelice che sia stata e che ha determinato le persone che siamo, Barnes ci racconta non solo di una storia di amore, ma anche di una storia di dipendenza, di violenza, di abusi capaci di tratteggiare un'epoca e una nazione che passavano dalla repressione alla libert脿 sessuale (e qui, come non pensare alla coppia di di Ian McEwan?), che vedeva esplodere, in una progressione inarrestabile, una rivoluzione dei costumi fino a quel momento impensabile.
Seguiamo le sue parole, ci addentriamo nelle mappe della sua memoria, ricalchiamo le tracce che ci portano al sito archeologico dove 猫 possibile vedere le impronte, preistoriche, lasciate sul suo cuore e nella sua psiche. Sono anche le nostre, lo scopriamo seguendolo, anche noi abbiamo un'unica storia da raccontare, e forse 猫 proprio per questo che la sua, quella di Paul, la sentiamo cos矛 vera e cos矛 falsa, cos矛 vicina e cos矛 lontana, cos矛 nostra e cos矛 estranea: 芦In amore, ogni cosa 猫 al tempo stesso vera e falsa; l鈥檜nico argomento al mondo sul quale 猫 impossibile dire insensatezze禄, e noi, insieme a Paul, l'abbiamo imparato, scrivendo e cancellando sul nostro taccuino alla voce "amore" le nostre verit脿.
芦Pensi che ti si schianter脿 il cuore. Adesso, qui, subito.禄
E se non ti si schianta subito, leggendo di quest鈥檜nica storia, poco ci manca. Perch茅 Barnes ha il pregio raro, comune a pochi eletti, di cambiare registro senza alcuno strappo, di saper trasformare in tragedia la commedia, di passare dalla prima alla terza persona in poche pagine e di coinvolgerti, con il TU, come se facessi parte di quell鈥檜nica storia, di passare dalla primavera-estate di un amore all鈥檃utunno-inverno dell鈥檈sistenza, con la stessa fluidit脿 di scrittura, con la stessa capacit脿 catalizzatrice delle prime battute del romanzo.
芦Abbiamo quasi tutti un鈥檜nica storia da raccontare. Non voglio dire che nella vita ci capiti una cosa sola; al contrario, gli avvenimenti sono tantissimi, e noi li trasformiamo in altrettante storie. Ma ce n鈥櫭� una sola che conta, una sola da raccontare alla fine. E questa 猫 la mia禄.
Se allora il tono della prima parte 猫 scanzonato e molto maschile (e per maschile non intendo privo di sensibilit脿 ma, al contrario, un concentrato di sensibilit脿 altra da quella femminile), la seconda, in cui il dramma si manifesta, lascia attoniti, nonostante le avvisaglie, per la repentinit脿 con la quale si manifesta, avviene e, infine, si compie.
Si fugge, per non essere travolti.
Ci si allontana, per mettersi in salvo.
Ci si sottrae, per non sommare la propria sconfitta a quella dell鈥檃ltro.
Ma cosa 猫 meglio, ci ammonisce Barnes sin dell鈥檌ncipit, che cosa preferiresti? Amare di pi霉 e soffrire di pi霉 o amare di meno e soffrire di meno?
E allora, ascoltando Paul, un "Casey" Paul settantenne, raccontarci della sua storia con Susan, iniziata quando lui era un inesperto e impacciato diciannovenne e lei una matura madre e moglie quarantottenne, assistendo all鈥檈voluzione della loro anticonvenzionale relazione nata sui campi da tennis di un sobborgo londinese, che la memoria (ancora la memoria, ancora il tempo, ancora il lato oscuro della mente che ricorda e non ricostruisce - 芦Io sto ricordando il passato, non lo sto ricostruendo禄 - scrive Barnes) scandaglia e rivive quasi in cerca dei segni che il giovane s茅 avrebbe dovuto individuare per scongiurare la fine, quella fine, ma anche quale ineluttabile accettazione del fatto che quella era e sarebbe stata l鈥檜nica storia possibile, che alternative non ce ne potevano essere, e che in ciascuno di noi resta impressa sulla carne, indelebile, quell鈥檜nica storia, felice o infelice che sia stata e che ha determinato le persone che siamo, Barnes ci racconta non solo di una storia di amore, ma anche di una storia di dipendenza, di violenza, di abusi capaci di tratteggiare un'epoca e una nazione che passavano dalla repressione alla libert脿 sessuale (e qui, come non pensare alla coppia di di Ian McEwan?), che vedeva esplodere, in una progressione inarrestabile, una rivoluzione dei costumi fino a quel momento impensabile.
Seguiamo le sue parole, ci addentriamo nelle mappe della sua memoria, ricalchiamo le tracce che ci portano al sito archeologico dove 猫 possibile vedere le impronte, preistoriche, lasciate sul suo cuore e nella sua psiche. Sono anche le nostre, lo scopriamo seguendolo, anche noi abbiamo un'unica storia da raccontare, e forse 猫 proprio per questo che la sua, quella di Paul, la sentiamo cos矛 vera e cos矛 falsa, cos矛 vicina e cos矛 lontana, cos矛 nostra e cos矛 estranea: 芦In amore, ogni cosa 猫 al tempo stesso vera e falsa; l鈥檜nico argomento al mondo sul quale 猫 impossibile dire insensatezze禄, e noi, insieme a Paul, l'abbiamo imparato, scrivendo e cancellando sul nostro taccuino alla voce "amore" le nostre verit脿.
June 16, 2018
听
Three-person'd Love
Three-person'd Love
For instance, he thought he probably wouldn't have sex again before he died. Probably. Possibly. Unless. But on balance, he thought not. Sex involved two people. Two persons, first person and second person: you and I, you and me. But nowadays, the raucousness of the first person within him was stilled. It was as if he viewed, and lived, his life in the third person. Which allowed him to assess it more accurately, he believed.My title does not imply anything so salacious as three in a bed, merely that I have John Donne in mind: "Batter my heart, three-person'd God." Paul, the protagonist of Julian Barnes' latest novel, certainly does get his heart battered, and his observation that a love affair also creates a third person looking back on it later is very much his point. The paragraph above comes from the last section of this three-part novel, in which Paul refers to himself as "he." Much of the second part is in the second person, "you." It is only in the first part that Paul, in the unabashed exuberance of lusty youth, revels in "the raucousness of the first person": I, I, I.
I had no new definition of love. I didn't really examine what it was, and what it might entail. I merely submitted to first love in all its aspects, from butterfly kiss to absolutism. Nothing else mattered. Of course there was the 鈥榬est of my life', both present and future . You could say that I put this part of my life on hold. Except that's not right: she was my life, and the rest wasn't.鈥� Put it another way. I was nineteen, and I knew that love was incorruptible, proof against both time and tarnish.Barnes' thesis is that most people only have one story that matters, one special love that shapes everything. And Paul's is special indeed, or at least different: a married woman, Susan Macleod, well over twice his age. There is a reason, I think, why Barnes made it so, but we just have to accept it. And accept the inherent improbability of this continuing for several summers under the noses of Susan's husband and daughters, Paul's parents, and the solidly middle-class inhabitants of their upscale community in the Stockbroker Belt of Surrey鈥攁t least until the noses cannot ignore the evidence of eyes and ears, and Paul and Susan are drummed out of the tennis club. But they are not chastened. Heads held high, Paul and Susan move to London, Paul writing a letter to his parents, saying he would send them an address as and when:
That seemed to cover it. I thought the 鈥榓s and when' sounded properly grown-up. Well, so I was. Twenty-one. And ready to fully indulge, fully express, fully love my life. 鈥業'm alive! I'm living!' 鈥� And this is how I would remember it all, if I could. But I can't.The last words of Part One, and ominous they are. I won't say exactly how things change, how "time and tarnish," in his earlier words, take their toll. But a curious thing happens. As Paul's voice moves from "I" to "you," we feel its authenticity increase. Julian Barnes may or may not have been involved with an older woman (although he has touched on the theme before in The Sense of an Ending), but it seems clear to me that some at least of the torment of Part Two鈥攁nd Paul's helpless careening between pragmatism and denial鈥攎ust come from painful personal experience. The context may have been different, but surely he must know what it is to be trapped by love in a situation he cannot sustain? And that is the reason, I think, why he chose the extreme difference in age. Susan is not an ordinary girlfriend from whom Paul can break and move on. Loving her involves responsibility. It also involves assuming the consequences of long previous history, of which he was totally unaware in the first flush of love. Loving her really is The Only Story, an event that moulds a lifetime.
It has taken some years for you to realize how much, beneath her laughing irreverence, there lies panic and pandemonium. Which is why she needs you there, fixed and steadfast. You have assumed this role willingly, lovingly. It makes you feel grown-up to be a guarantor. It has meant, of course, that for most of your twenties you were obliged to forgo what others of your generation routinely enjoyed.Three at least of Julian Barnes' last four books have involved the writer looking back on a history of love and loss. It certainly happens here. It is implied in the very title of . It creates the extraordinary final section of his lament for his late wife, . It may also be true, at a remove, in his novel about Dmitri Shostakovich, . Explicitly or otherwise, all these books are in three parts, and the last of them shows the author in a deeply reflective mood, writing more as philosopher than storyteller. Perhaps it was a little much here; I found myself skating over this testament to a life half-lived, even as I was consoled by his acceptance of it. For there is also a fourth person present in this experience: the reader. Very present indeed in my own case, as an Englishman of a similar age and social background, living through different experiences, but in the same context, and ending with the same sober retrospection. Not since Ian McEwan's have I read a novel that so clearly spoke to my generation's passage from youth to middle-age. And, though I tend to be more romantic (still!), I can give more than a wry nod to Barnes's clear-eyed realism:
Well, that was fair enough. I hadn't come with, or for, any message, let alone for any forgiveness. From love's absolutism to love's absolution? No: I don't believe in the cosy narrative of life some find necessary, just as I choke on comforting words like redemption and closure. Death is the only closure I believe in; and the wound will stay open until the final shutting of the doors. As for redemption, it's far too neat, a moviemaker's bromide; and beyond that, it feels like something grand, which human beings are too imperfect to deserve, much less bestow upon themselves.
July 18, 2018
"Don't expect too much of me."
from The Only Story
My mother warned me. She was thirty-eight and I was nineteen when she warned that it happens to all lovers. My aunt once pondered, "What happened to us?" while reflecting on her first love and failed marriage.
We see it all the time, famous couples in the news, the couple next door. We expect everything, throw ourselves into young love trusting that the connection shared is timeless and everlasting.
It is our 'only story' of love, that first love when we are young and hopeful. We think we are different from the others.
"Somehow eternity seems possible as you embrace." *
I was excited to finally read Julian Barnes after hearing so much about his books. I was not disappointed. I do love a quiet, introspective novel with beautiful writing and a deep understanding of the human condition. The main character, Paul, tells us his 'only story' from the vantage of fifty years, recalling his first love in all its happiness, and later pain.
Paul is nineteen when he meets Susan, almost thirty years his senior. They play tennis at the local club during his first summer home from university. In a fluid, organic way, without pathos or introspection, their relationship becomes intimate.
Paul becomes a fixture in Susan's life, even coming into the home she shares with her alienated husband. When Paul turned twenty-one he took her away.
After recalling his early innocent and idealized love, we learn that Susan was a victim of spouse abuse. Paul recalls Susan's slipping from him into alcoholism, and lastly considers all the implications of cause and effect, culpability, and his inability to move past Susan.
The novel left me heartsore. For days.
I have a cousin who in her fifties slipped into early dementia from alcohol abuse. Her husband, her first love when they were teenagers, installed her in her own home, unwilling to watch her destroy herself. Of course, I thought of her.
Our only story, the one great love of our life, may end when one beloved partner dies first, or it may end in disaster, heartbreak, a crippling of the emotions. We may be left to relive happy memories or to wonder how it all went wrong. Paul agonizes: did he let go of Susan, let her fall, or did she pull him down with him?
Regardless, Paul is left damaged by his only story. And as a reader, I mourned with him.
I received a free ebook from First to Read in exchange for a fair and unbiased review.
*from Second Elegy, Duino Elegies by Ranier Maria Rilke, trans. David Young
from The Only Story
My mother warned me. She was thirty-eight and I was nineteen when she warned that it happens to all lovers. My aunt once pondered, "What happened to us?" while reflecting on her first love and failed marriage.
We see it all the time, famous couples in the news, the couple next door. We expect everything, throw ourselves into young love trusting that the connection shared is timeless and everlasting.
It is our 'only story' of love, that first love when we are young and hopeful. We think we are different from the others.
"Somehow eternity seems possible as you embrace." *
I was excited to finally read Julian Barnes after hearing so much about his books. I was not disappointed. I do love a quiet, introspective novel with beautiful writing and a deep understanding of the human condition. The main character, Paul, tells us his 'only story' from the vantage of fifty years, recalling his first love in all its happiness, and later pain.
Paul is nineteen when he meets Susan, almost thirty years his senior. They play tennis at the local club during his first summer home from university. In a fluid, organic way, without pathos or introspection, their relationship becomes intimate.
Paul becomes a fixture in Susan's life, even coming into the home she shares with her alienated husband. When Paul turned twenty-one he took her away.
After recalling his early innocent and idealized love, we learn that Susan was a victim of spouse abuse. Paul recalls Susan's slipping from him into alcoholism, and lastly considers all the implications of cause and effect, culpability, and his inability to move past Susan.
The novel left me heartsore. For days.
I have a cousin who in her fifties slipped into early dementia from alcohol abuse. Her husband, her first love when they were teenagers, installed her in her own home, unwilling to watch her destroy herself. Of course, I thought of her.
Our only story, the one great love of our life, may end when one beloved partner dies first, or it may end in disaster, heartbreak, a crippling of the emotions. We may be left to relive happy memories or to wonder how it all went wrong. Paul agonizes: did he let go of Susan, let her fall, or did she pull him down with him?
Regardless, Paul is left damaged by his only story. And as a reader, I mourned with him.
I received a free ebook from First to Read in exchange for a fair and unbiased review.
*from Second Elegy, Duino Elegies by Ranier Maria Rilke, trans. David Young
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