Aiz neko darīt izlasīju Domingesa 'Papīra nams'. Nu, godīgi sakot, grāmata nav nekas īpašs (bet arī nežēlojos, jo maksāja tik pat, cik cigarešu paciņa un ir arī pietiekami īsa, lai satrauktos par zaudētu laiku) - mēģinājumi uzrunāt bibliofīlus ar daudziem autoru vārdu pieminējumiem, erotiska mīlestība uz grāmatām utml.
Tomēr ir viena epizode, kura piesaistīja manu uzmanību. Šajā epizodē viens no galvenajiem varoņiem - pēc tam, kad viņam sadega īpašais katalogs - paņem visas savas grāmatas un no tām uzceļ mājiņu okeāna krastā. Epizodei, iespējams, nebūtu nekādas nozīmes manā dzīvē, ja vien dažs labs jau kādu laiku man nerunātu, ka arī vēlas no manām grāmatām izveidot instalāciju - māju no grāmatām.
Visumā piekrītu amazon vērtētājam (3/5)
Unlike several of the reviewers preceding me, I was less than satisfied with this book. It is a serious, funny and creative study in bibliophilia run awry, in the nature of the relationship between fiction and life, personal values, interrelationships between man and woman, etc. Framed as the attempt to return a book to the sender after the death of the recipient (a Cambridge professor of literature), the search for the sender is relatively straightforward and simple, if not actually successful. The unnamed protagonist goes from book dealer to book collector to the abandoned house of the sender - each step adding their piece of understanding of the malaise of bibliophilia. No dead ends; no miscues.
For myself, the highlights of the volume were strictly intellectual - the book collector discribing his notes when reading as pointers to other books, associations; and the description of Brauer's (the sender's) attempt to classify books by affinities and to recognize personal relationships between authors as a factor in shelving. While the plot does have an element of surprise as the book draws to conclusion, it is not enough to allow the plot or writing to overcome the heaviness of the load of parabolic meaning the author lays on the book. The book comes so close but fails to succeed.
Tomēr ir viena epizode, kura piesaistīja manu uzmanību. Šajā epizodē viens no galvenajiem varoņiem - pēc tam, kad viņam sadega īpašais katalogs - paņem visas savas grāmatas un no tām uzceļ mājiņu okeāna krastā. Epizodei, iespējams, nebūtu nekādas nozīmes manā dzīvē, ja vien dažs labs jau kādu laiku man nerunātu, ka arī vēlas no manām grāmatām izveidot instalāciju - māju no grāmatām.
Visumā piekrītu amazon vērtētājam (3/5)
Unlike several of the reviewers preceding me, I was less than satisfied with this book. It is a serious, funny and creative study in bibliophilia run awry, in the nature of the relationship between fiction and life, personal values, interrelationships between man and woman, etc. Framed as the attempt to return a book to the sender after the death of the recipient (a Cambridge professor of literature), the search for the sender is relatively straightforward and simple, if not actually successful. The unnamed protagonist goes from book dealer to book collector to the abandoned house of the sender - each step adding their piece of understanding of the malaise of bibliophilia. No dead ends; no miscues.
For myself, the highlights of the volume were strictly intellectual - the book collector discribing his notes when reading as pointers to other books, associations; and the description of Brauer's (the sender's) attempt to classify books by affinities and to recognize personal relationships between authors as a factor in shelving. While the plot does have an element of surprise as the book draws to conclusion, it is not enough to allow the plot or writing to overcome the heaviness of the load of parabolic meaning the author lays on the book. The book comes so close but fails to succeed.
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