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Elizabeth Strout ist eine scharfsinnige und mitf hlende Chronistin des Alltags, all der kleinen und gro en Dramen, die man Leben nennt. In ihrem neuen Roman erzh?lt Lucy Barton (die Heldin aus den Romanen Die Unvollkommenheit der Liebe? und Alles ist mg?lich?) von der komplexen und innigen Beziehung zu ihrem ersten Mann William, von den Anfñgen, als sie noch studierten, von ihren beiden Tc?htern und vom schmerzvollen Ende ihrer Ehe. Doch obwohl sie neue Partner, neue Liebe finden, bleiben sie einander jahrzehntelang verbunden. Und als William Hilfe braucht, ist es Lucy, an die er sich wendet ..… (mehr)
Like all of the author's books, this one is characterized by its particularly beautiful language. I found it really wonderful to read, very melodic. Lucy Barton's second husband has died. She becomes friendly again with William, her first husband. They have two adult children together, they were young lovers at the time, and they were each other's first home. When William asks himself existential questions, it is Lucy with whom he works them out. Although both are already old, they still go far back in their past and childhood, even the past of their parents. Obviously, life is never lived to the point where the past doesn't matter.
Wie alle Bücher der Autorin zeichnet sich auch dieses durch seine besonders schöne Sprache aus. Ich fand es wirklich wunderbar zu lesen, sehr melodisch. Lucy Bartons zweiter Mann ist gestorben. Sie nähert sich William, ihrem ersten Mann, wieder freundschaftlich an. Sie haben zwei erwachsene Kinder zusammen, sie waren damals junge Liebende, die füreinander die erste Heimat waren. Als sich William existenzielle Fragen stellt, ist es Lucy, mit der er sie bearbeitet. Obwohl beide schon alt sind, gehen sie nochmal weit zurück in ihrer beider Vergangenheit und Kindheit, ja sogar die der Eltern. Offensichtlich ist das Leben nie so weit gelebt, dass die Vergangenheit keine Rolle mehr spielt. ( )
Die Informationen stammen von der englischen "Wissenswertes"-Seite.Ändern, um den Eintrag der eigenen Sprache anzupassen.
This book is dedicated to my husband, Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Jim Tirrney
And to anyone who needs it—-this is for you
Erste Worte
Die Informationen stammen von der englischen "Wissenswertes"-Seite.Ändern, um den Eintrag der eigenen Sprache anzupassen.
I would like to say a few things about my first husband, William.
Zitate
Die Informationen stammen von der englischen "Wissenswertes"-Seite.Ändern, um den Eintrag der eigenen Sprache anzupassen.
What a strange thing life is.
This is the way of life: the many things we do not know until it is too late.
I turned and I said, "How are your night terrors these days, William?" William opened his hand and said, "They're gone." Then he added, "My life got worse, so they stopped."
Mommy, I cried inside myself, Mommy, I am so frightened! And the nice mother I have made up over the years answered: Yes, I know.
People are lonely, is my point here. Many people can't say to those they know well what it is they feel they might want to say.
"I'm really mean in my head, you wouldn't believe the mean thoughts I have." William threw his hand up and said, "Lucy, everyone is mean in their head. Jesus." "They are?" I asked. He half laughed then, but it was a pleasant laugh. "Yes, Lucy, people are mean in their heads. Their private thoughts. Are frequently mean. I thought you knew that, you're the writer. Jesus Christ, Lucy."
"She came from less than nothing. She came from trash." The word was like a slap across my face. That word is always like a slap across my face.
I walked through the double doors and saw right away that their restaurant was closed. Open at 5:00, a sign said. I gave a huge sigh and turned around to head back, and I thought to myself: When does anybody in this state eat? And just as I thought that I saw the fattest man I have ever seen. He was coming through the double doors that I had just come through, and he had pushed one of them open but this was not enough space for him to get through. He did not seem old; he may have been thirty, I do not know. But his pants went out on the sides of him like a ship almost, and his face was buried into itself. I let go of one of the suitcases and I pulled the other door open for him and he smiled in a way that seemed to me to be ashamed, and I said, "There you go," and he said "Thanks" with a kind of shy smile and he went up to the front desk in the lobby. I thought as I walked back to the airport—I thought: I know what that man feels like. (Except of course I do not.) But I thought: It's odd, because on one hand I think I am invisible, but on the other I know what it is like to be marked as separate from society, only in my case no one knows it when they see me. But I thought that about that fat man. And about myself.
As I looked out the window at New York City, I felt what I have almost always felt when I have flown into New York, and that was a sense of awe and gratitude that this huge, sprawling place had taken me in—had let me live there.
I suddenly remembered times early in our marriage in our Village apartment when I had felt terrible. It was about my parents, and the feeling that I had left them behind—as I had—and I would sometimes sit in our small bedroom and weep with a kind of horrendous inner pain, and William would come to me and say, "Lucy, talk to me, what is it?" And I would just shake my head until he went away. What a really awful thing I had done. I had not thought of this until now. To deny my husband any chance of comforting me—oh, it was an unspeakably awful thing. And I had not known. This is the way of life: the many things we do not know until it is too late.
But we are all mythologies, mysterious. We are all mysteries, is what I mean.
We went to bed and he was very kind but then he said "I'm shooting into Mommy! I'm shooting into Mommy!" and this frightened me beyond reason. After that I had to take two tranquilizers I had in my pocketbook and then I fell asleep next to him and slept through the night with my head over his chest.
But who ever really knows the experience of another? (39%)
People are lonely, is my point here. Many people can't say to those they know well what it is they feel they might want to say. (46%)
We crave authority. We do. No matter what anyone says we crave that sense of authority. Of believing that in the presence of this person we are safe. (51%)
Once every so often -- at the very most -- I think someone actually chooses something. Otherwise we're following something -- we don't even know what is but we follow it, Lucy. (58%)
And the thought came and went like a small bird through my mind. (61%)
What a really awful thing I had done.
I had not thought of this now. To deny my husband any chance of comforting me -- oh, it was an unspeakable awful thing. (76%)
I would give it all up, all the success I have had as a writer, all of it I would give up -- in a heartbeat I would give it up -- for a family that was together and children who knew they were clearly loved by both their parents who had stayed together and who loved each other too. (81%)
I could not believe this; it was a huge wave that poured over me. William was like the light in the museum, only I had lived my life thinking it was worth something.
Then I thought: It ws worth something. (86%)
Don't I mean Oh Everybody, Oh dear Everybody in this whole wide world, we do not know anybody, not even ourselves. (87%)
Letzte Worte
Die Informationen stammen von der englischen "Wissenswertes"-Seite.Ändern, um den Eintrag der eigenen Sprache anzupassen.
This may be the only thing in the world I know to be true.
Literaturhinweise zu diesem Werk aus externen Quellen.
Wikipedia auf Englisch
Keine
▾Buchbeschreibungen
Elizabeth Strout ist eine scharfsinnige und mitf hlende Chronistin des Alltags, all der kleinen und gro en Dramen, die man Leben nennt. In ihrem neuen Roman erzh?lt Lucy Barton (die Heldin aus den Romanen Die Unvollkommenheit der Liebe? und Alles ist mg?lich?) von der komplexen und innigen Beziehung zu ihrem ersten Mann William, von den Anfñgen, als sie noch studierten, von ihren beiden Tc?htern und vom schmerzvollen Ende ihrer Ehe. Doch obwohl sie neue Partner, neue Liebe finden, bleiben sie einander jahrzehntelang verbunden. Und als William Hilfe braucht, ist es Lucy, an die er sich wendet ..
Google Books — Lädt ...
(3.93)
1
Lucy Barton's second husband has died. She becomes friendly again with William, her first husband. They have two adult children together, they were young lovers at the time, and they were each other's first home. When William asks himself existential questions, it is Lucy with whom he works them out. Although both are already old, they still go far back in their past and childhood, even the past of their parents. Obviously, life is never lived to the point where the past doesn't matter.
Wie alle Bücher der Autorin zeichnet sich auch dieses durch seine besonders schöne Sprache aus. Ich fand es wirklich wunderbar zu lesen, sehr melodisch.
Lucy Bartons zweiter Mann ist gestorben. Sie nähert sich William, ihrem ersten Mann, wieder freundschaftlich an. Sie haben zwei erwachsene Kinder zusammen, sie waren damals junge Liebende, die füreinander die erste Heimat waren. Als sich William existenzielle Fragen stellt, ist es Lucy, mit der er sie bearbeitet. Obwohl beide schon alt sind, gehen sie nochmal weit zurück in ihrer beider Vergangenheit und Kindheit, ja sogar die der Eltern. Offensichtlich ist das Leben nie so weit gelebt, dass die Vergangenheit keine Rolle mehr spielt. (