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Edouard Levé

Suicide

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Suicide cannot be read as simply another novel—it is, in a sense, the author's own oblique, public suicide note, a unique meditation on this most extreme of refusals. Presenting itself as an investigation into the suicide of a close friend—perhaps real, perhaps fictional—more than twenty years earlier, Levé gives us, little by little, a striking portrait of a man, with all his talents and flaws, who chose to reject his life, and all the people who loved him, in favor of oblivion. Gradually, through Levé's casually obsessive, pointillist, beautiful ruminations, we come to know a stoic, sensible, thoughtful man who bears more than a slight psychological resemblance to Levé himself. But Suicide is more than just a compendium of memories of an old friend; it is a near-exhaustive catalog of the ramifications and effects of the act of suicide, and a unique and melancholy farewell to life.
Эта книга сейчас недоступна
93 бумажные страницы
Дата публикации оригинала
2014
Год выхода издания
2014
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Впечатления

  • Jessica Garcíaделится впечатлением3 года назад
    👍Worth reading
    🔮Hidden Depths
    🎯Worthwhile
    🚀Unputdownable

    Será un libro que leeré varias veces en mi vida. Tiene demasiadas frases que me hicieron sentir punzadas. Nunca había leído algo parecido, es decir, me parecía todo el tiempo que Levé enalteció de alguna manera el suicidio de su amigo. En la manera en que Levé lo recuerda siempre me pareció encontrar admiración y respeto. Lástima que escribir esta remembranza terminara en otro fin funesto.

Цитаты

  • Lunaцитирует8 лет назад
    You used to drift through a visual form of communism, according to which things belonged to those who looked at them
  • Lunaцитирует8 лет назад
    You wondered how, being so different, they could have formed a union; but you noted that in you there was a mixture of the violence of the one and the gentleness of the other. Your father exerted his violence on others. Your mother was sympathetic to the suffering of others. One day you directed the violence you had inherited toward yourself. You dished it out like your father and you took it like your mother.
  • Lunaцитирует8 лет назад
    But you were on occasion drawn to speak of God, in the sense of an abstract entity, a conversational topic, a curiosity reserved for others

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