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Tag Archives: memory
Stars in a black river flowing tear-like across the immensely lonely regions of the world
I see before me pieces of the human condition, bound together by the umbrella of a narrative that does not quite make any sense. Names reel in and out of sight, like stars in a black river flowing tear-like across the immensely lonely regions of the world. It is obvious that this book is written by someone who does not write merely to communicate, but out of an intrinsic appreciation for words. It reveals a great many truths about the human condition, and its endless perplexities, without shying away from the irreconcilable mystery that lies at the bottom of the universe. Continue reading
Incarnate Memories and Foregone Love Stories
Right from the beginning that is a sense of significance in the seemingly trivial, like the falling of rain, and a glimmer of existential beauty to be found in repetition, exhaustion, and freedom from logic. If inexplicitness was a literary principle, this text would have passed with flying colours. It is a cruel master of portraying the impossible, a maestro of describing things not as they purely are but rather as what they seem to be, which involves infinite digressions on how it makes a certain character feel, which, almost inevitably, revives inner memories and sensations associated with it. Continue reading
Posted in Bombal, Home
Tagged Bombal, death, life, love, memory, nostalgia, reality, relationships, The Time of the Doves
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proustian rant on proust
As I have expected (from having seen glimpses of the book here and there in my distant past), this is one of the most beautiful texts that I have encountered, and, with every line, I feel that keen jolt of pleasure from reading which informs me of the prestige in his use of words and structure of language in the representation of the human experience. Continue reading