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Lädt ... Reticence (1991)von Jean-Philippe Toussaint
Keine Lädt ...
Melde dich bei LibraryThing an um herauszufinden, ob du dieses Buch mögen würdest. Keine aktuelle Diskussion zu diesem Buch. Er gebeurt bijzonder weinig in dit boek – misschien wel niets – en tegelijkertijd is het één van de spannendste boeken die ik het voorbije jaar heb gelezen. Ook op het eind van het boek blijft de onzekerheid over de gebeurtenissen hangen, – er valt voor meerdere interpretaties wel iets te zeggen, en tegelijkertijd laat ook elke keuze nog zoveel ongezegd … als lezer vul je het verhaal, de motivatie, de personages, de setting … graag en gretig aan … en al snel blijk je zowaar nog wilder op je eigen gedachten vooruit te lopen dan dat het hoofdpersonage dat doet … Het ganse dorp, het ganse boek ademt bij momenten de sfeer van A Tell Tale Heart van Poe, maar eventjes knipperen met de ogen is voldoende om die sfeer te laten oplossen – en meteen is er niet meer dan een vader en zijn zoontje in een hotel. Een voltreffer is De aarzeling evenwel niet. De achterdocht van het personage is af en toe nogal ongeloofwaardig & de herhaling is te opzichtig, waardoor de spanningsboog slap gaat hangen. Maar dat ik meer van Toussaint zal lezen, staat wel vast. A charming but also chilling little jeu d'esprit. I haven't read any other Toussaint, and get the feeling this is intentionally 'minor,' but it's very entertaining and extremely clever. Toussaint uses a very restricted symbolic palette (cats, light, the color grey, that's about it) and a very restrained narrative voice to more or less drag you to hell and back, even though at any given moment you just feel like you're reading a very mild memoir of a moderately intelligent man going about his business. And suddenly you think holy shit, this guy is a crazed murderer! Wait, no he's not, he's 'just' a paranoid delinquent! Wait, no he's not, he really is a crazed murderer! Oh my god the world is just death and ugly cars! Oh no, it's all okay. It's like Henry James' 'The Jolly Corner' 'Moby Dick' set in the bleakest, most economically depressed tourist town you can imagine. Occasionally hilarious, occasionally terrifying. At the beginning of this somewhat mysterious novella, the narrator observes a dead cat in the water of the harbor in the small town he and his infant son are visiting, and believes the cat has been "murdered." At the end of the novella, the mystery of the cat's death is solved. In between, the narrator goes about his business, seemingly viewing none of his very strange actions as anything other than ordinary. He becomes obsessed with the idea that a man named Biaggi, a man who is apparently his friend and who apparently he has come to see, is following him and observing him, and goes to great (and illegal) lengths to try to catch Biaggi in the act. He tends to his son, and then at other times leaves him by himself in the hotel room. He reveals something which may be true or may be entirely in his imagination. His behavior throughout is extremely peculiar and, though he is obviously an extremely unreliable narrator, it may in fact be what he really did because he seems to have no awareness that his behavior is so peculiar. Is he reticent about visiting Biaggi properly? Is he reticent about telling the readers the "truth"? Although I was mystified by this book, it was a quick read and I enjoyed it. Zeige 5 von 5 keine Rezensionen | Rezension hinzufügen
"A little thing happened to me. Which could just as easily have happened to you. You're on vacation in a hotel with your son in a small village and you're about to go see some friends, but something holds you back, a mysterious reticence that prevents you from going to find them. Here is the novel of this reticence, small and specific, and of the fears that it instigates, little by little. Because not only are your friends not there when you do decide to go find them, but, several days later, you find a dead cat in the harbor, a black cat floating in front of you on the water..."In Jean-Philippe Toussaint's take on the detective novel, we find a man on vacation in a tiny village, where a writer named Biaggi appears to be keeping him under surveillance. To what end? Ah, but it's far more pleasant to enjoy the Mediterranean night air than to look for answers, make deductions, or get upset--isn't it? Keine Bibliotheksbeschreibungen gefunden. |
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Google Books — Lädt ... GenresMelvil Decimal System (DDC)843.914Literature French French fiction Modern Period 20th Century 1945-1999Klassifikation der Library of Congress [LCC] (USA)BewertungDurchschnitt:
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Every minor event is drafted into the service of this suspenseful game of cat and mouse. Our narrator turns snoop, stealing Biaggi's mail, slipping into Biaggi's house
unseen. Or has Biaggi in fact been watching every one of these moves?
Perhaps all will become clear at the end, on a deserted beach in the pale moonlight, a lonely lighthouse flashing monotonously. ( )