欧宝娱乐

Finished it two days after xmas, began it around November 1. My left bicep is stronger from cradling it one-handedly as I walk to work. It's stained with spilled coffee held in right hand close to the pages to keep them from flapping in the breeze, especially at the windy corner behind Independence Hall . . . It's real good. Four stars with an extra star added for humility's sake -- I mean, it's W&P! Give it an extra star for plentiful wisdom and vivid experience, for its fulfilled ambition. A bargain on a per page basis (1358 pgs), too. The translation by Briggs is rad, other than the occasionally distracting Britishism in low-classy dialogue, cockney dropped h's, etc. I loved that the French is rendered in English (the primary complaint with the new Pevear & Volokhonsky translation is that the French is in French, translated in footnotes, therefore unnecessarily distracting). Honestly, at times it reads like Phillip Pullman, without the polar bears, gay angels, and shape-shifting soul pets. I've never read a more vivid, exciting hunting scene as the one where they down the old wolf bitch. The snowy duel scene I've dog-earred for easy access whenever I need a quick sensory infusion of textual awesomeness. Napolean is a character, too. Who knew? Pierre is your noble protagonist, going through phases, trying to figure shit out. There's interesting exposition toward the end (not the 40-pg essay at the absolute end about the nature of history, the difference b/w necessity and free will) about the total unbeatability of combatants engaging in guerilla warfare, especially when addled by the "x-factor" (Leo's phrase) of desire to expel an invading force. Makes you think about the American Revolution, the first PG-13 movie "Red Dawn," and even other contemporary occupations, for instance in Iraq. So the book holds up well. It's news that stays news, as Ezra said about literature. It's history charged with the complexities of experience (its thesis can be summed up with one word: "quaquaversalism" -- and unlike lots of fiction, this book is definitely out to demonstrate a point or two, it's got some serious shit to say, etc). The prose flows. The characters (once things settle after the initial ball scenes and battle) are distinct and alive. The setting is essential, usually the case with my faves. The expository jags throughout the novel positively transmute DNA. In fact, as with "The Recognitions" or "Ulysses" or "Moby-Dick," the experience of reading the novel and the time required to read it are nicely included in the sticker price -- the late fall and early winter of 2007 I shall always associate with this big-ass book -- and reading it is akin to a two-month travel in another country: experiences therein nicely entangle with your past, present, and future experiences. Congrats, Leo -- I really look forward to reading your future work! This January, I'll cradle Anna Karenina in my right hand till my right bicep matches my currently outsized left bicep, then I'll switch back and forth daily to keep things even. (Happy new year everyone!)