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Das Tagebuch der Daisy Goodwill (1993)

von Carol Shields

Weitere Autoren: Siehe Abschnitt Weitere Autoren.

MitgliederRezensionenBeliebtheitDurchschnittliche BewertungDiskussionen / Diskussionen
5,4531161,579 (3.77)1 / 482
Die Biographie einer Frau, die im reifen Alter eine ganz neue Art von Erfüllung und Freiheit in ihrer beruflichen Arbeit zunächst findet und dann wieder verliert.
Kürzlich hinzugefügt vonrcabbott, TracyK22, private Bibliothek, alexandria2021, PrisonLibraryProject, mattorsara, sierra5055, ejmw
NachlassbibliothekenGillian Rose
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The mesmerizing story of Daisy Goodwill. Born in Canada in the early 20th century, we experience Daisy's life through her eyes, and through the perspectives and life histories of other major characters. We come to know Daisy as an observant young child, but naive young woman, and later on as an aging woman with a breadth of experiences, sometimes still perceived through a child’s eyes. Daisy's story is the blending of individual stories, with each trajectory as impactful on Daisy's life, as Daisy's own experiences. An intimate and fascinating tale of an ordinary woman through living rapidly changing times. I loved this book. ( )
  laffal | Aug 11, 2022 |
The Stone Diaries is the story of one woman’s life. Daisy Goodwill Flett comes into this world in a strange and tragic circumstance. The book follows her through her life to the moment of her death. You might say she has an ordinary life in many ways, and perhaps that is part of the point Shields is making, that all lives are the same because, no matter how different they are from their fellows, all lives are lonely, isolated journeys. Only one person feels or knows who you are, and that person is you.

Many of Shields' characters are consumed with looking backward, dwelling in their pasts and trying to unravel the lives they have led but hardly understand. They struggle with what it is to relate to others, what it is to love or to be loved.

Is this what love is, he wonders, this substance that lies so pressingly between them, so neutral in color yet so palpable it need never be mentioned? Or is love something less, something slippery and odorless, a transparent gas riding through the world on the back of a breeze, or else - and this is what he more and more believes - just a word trying to remember another word.

There is a theme of loneliness and isolation that runs through the book

...a kind of rancor underlies her existence still: the recognition that she belongs to no one. Even her dreams release potent fumes of absence.

The odd thing about the pictures that fly into Daisy Goodwill’s head is that she is always alone. There are voices that reach her from a distance; there are shadows and suggestions--but still she is alone.


She is alone, but not unique, among the people she encounters...for they all seem to me to be alone and struggling as well. And much of the loneliness on view here is self-inflicted, as if the fear of connection is stronger than the need to touch the others, to be joined.

Carol Shields makes one choice in writing this novel that puzzles me; that is her decision to have the opening chapter in the first person, the following chapter in both first and third person (but obviously the same voice), and then to tell the rest of the story in the third person until one fleeting comment that is made first person in the final chapter. I know it is a very intentional choice, a device that is meant to achieve something major in the structure of this novel, but I have failed to comprehend its purpose, and that is going to bother me for a while. It might just be an attempt to make us realize that even within ourselves there is an “other” that is separate, observing and virtually unknown to us. Perhaps the first person is the soul. It is the best explanation I have been able to come up with. If anyone else who has read this has a thought, I would be very interested in hearing it!

The metaphor of the stone--having things carved in stone, the building of monuments, the hardening of the heart and the soul, and the impenetrable walls that divides us from one another-- runs from the beginning of this novel to its end. It winds its way like a river through every major character and recurs in names, thoughts and physical manifestations.

One thing is for sure, no need to put R.I.P. on Daisy’s tombstone.


( )
  mattorsara | Aug 11, 2022 |
It's one of those books that seemed to hit me on quite a deeper level. I adored it. It's a "nothing special book" but holy, does it grab you and not let go. ( )
  BookLeafs | May 26, 2022 |
This book! It’s just the story of a life, of several lives, of loneliness and internal desolation, of a life half lived or unlived, of too late awakenings, of “orphanhood” and the horrible effects of feeling unloved….of loss …and unresolved grief that lasted a life time. And yet, it’s so much more.

We are taken on several characters’ journeys in a biographical/autobiographical structure that normally would have confused me (all the switches from omniscient narrator to third person back to first, etc.), but seemed to have worked for this book. It begins and ends with the same character, Daisy.

Shields’ writing is good, but there were some metaphors left me utterly confused (forgot to write them down).
Another bothersome bit was the picture used for the fictional character, Mercy (the author incorporates family pictures in the middle like you may find in biographies/autobiographies, which thrilled me). So much (so much!) emphasis was made as to how obese Mercy was, how elephantine and enormous she was (the author’s descriptions not my own assumptions), and the picture used was of an average portly woman and nothing like the Mercy that was described.

But these two small gripes are nothing compared to the aspects I absolutely loved about this book:
💫
The main thing I got out of this book is that time passes and time is precious. We should make the best of this thing called life for as long as we can, and according to our own interpretation of what it means to be alive and present: ““It has never been easy for me to understand the obliteration of time, to accept, as others seem to do, the swelling and corresponding shrinkage of seasons or the conscious acceptance that one year has ended and another begun. There is something here that speaks of our essential helplessness and how the greater substance of our lives is bound up with waste and opacity. Even the sentence “twelve years have passed” is to deny the fact of biographical logic. How can so much time hold so little, how can it be taken from us? Months, weeks, days, hours misplaced – and the most precious time of life, too, when our bodies are at their greatest strength, and open, as they never will be again, to the onslaught of sensation.” Time *is* precious…say what you need to before it’s too late.
💫
This is such a simple story and yet so profound. The notion that we can, and often are, different people at different times of our lives is not usually acknowledged or accepted. This is exemplified in various characters but most notably with Cuyler Goodwill: quiet acquiescing child, besotted young husband who had an erotic awakening, despondent widower who leaned into faith, negligent father who reassumed his role with guilt and determination, self-made man who became extremely eloquent, and a man who later lost his flavor for words and started a new life with a new wife. So many different people in one life time!
As to the ending – it will haunt me for a minute. Initially it felt so drawn out and long. I was thinking “Where the heck is this leading? It’s the end of a life. I get it” – But then realized that, not only did the author do an amazing job of “ending” a life phase, but she set it up as a contrast between what “we” (the general societal “we”) see as opposed to what “we” (the personal) may be thinking or experiencing at the end of our lives:

“Daisy Goodwill Flett….died peacefully…after a long illness patiently borne…” VS “I am not at peace.” (final unspoken words by Daisy) – AHHHHHH!!!! I’m still shuddering. ( )
  Eosch1 | Jan 2, 2022 |
Apparently I read this book in the 90's, as it was on my "read" bookcase and had survived several previous book culls and the house move. It nearly got sold in the recent, major, new furniture clear out, but something told me to take another look. I didn't remember a thing about it, but I am so glad I reread it. Deserved its Pulitzer Prize. ( )
  MuggleBorn930 | Jul 11, 2021 |
The Stone Diaries is a kaleidoscopic novel, brilliantly and intricately told by way of straight narrative, alternating points of view, letters, newspaper reports.
hinzugefügt von KayCliff | bearbeitenLife in the Garden, Penelope Lively (Nov 10, 2021)
 
There is little in the way of conventional plot here, but its absence does nothing to diminish the narrative compulsion of this novel. Carol Shields has explored the mysteries of life with abandon, taking unusual risks along the way. "The Stone Diaries" reminds us again why literature matters.
hinzugefügt von kathrynnd | bearbeitenNew York Times, Jay Parini (Mar 27, 1994)
 

» Andere Autoren hinzufügen (36 möglich)

AutorennameRolleArt des AutorsWerk?Status
Shields, CarolHauptautoralle Ausgabenbestätigt
Belenson, GailUmschlaggestalterCo-Autoreinige Ausgabenbestätigt
Gossije, MarianneÜbersetzerCo-Autoreinige Ausgabenbestätigt
Längsfeld, MargareteÜbersetzerCo-Autoreinige Ausgabenbestätigt
Lively, PenelopeEinführungCo-Autoreinige Ausgabenbestätigt
Smith, Mary AnnUmschlagillustrationCo-Autoreinige Ausgabenbestätigt
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nothing she did or said
was quite what she meant
but still her life could be called a monument
shaped in a slant of available light
and set to the movement of possible music

(From "The Grandmother Cycle" by Judith Downing, Converse Quarterly, Autumn)
Widmung
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For my sister Babs
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My mother's name was Mercy Stone Goodwill.
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It is frightening, and also exhilarating, her ability to deceive those around her...
She was, you might say, a woman who recognized the value of half a loaf.
These last ten years had been a period of disintegration; he saw that now. He had imagined himself to be a man intent on making something, while all the while he was participating in a destructive and sorrowful narrowing of his energy.
Moving right along, and along, and along. The way she's done all her life. Numbly. Without thinking.
That life “thus far” has meant accepting the doses of disabling information that have come her way, every drop, and stirring them with the spoon of her longing – she's done this for so many years it's become second nature.
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Die Biographie einer Frau, die im reifen Alter eine ganz neue Art von Erfüllung und Freiheit in ihrer beruflichen Arbeit zunächst findet und dann wieder verliert.

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