|
Loading... Flaubert's Parrot (Picador Books)by Julian Barnes
LibraryThing recommendationsMember recommendationsLoading...
won't like
will probably not like
will probably like
will like
will love Sign up for LibraryThing to find out whether you'll like this book. Funny and interesting. Well written and edited, no unnecessary words. Julian Barnes plays with the form of a novel and offers chapters with different styles that break up the flow of the narrative, such that it is, but it is an agreeable book. (  ) Tifi | Dec 17, 2009 |  I really don't understand the comments in others' reviews. There's nothing perplexing about this beautifully-crafted little book: it's a novel about someone who wonders about what it means to be "the author of a book", and about the differences between fictional reality and what I suppose I'd have to call "real" reality. Which parrot is Flaubert's? The one about which he wrote? either of the two that rival establishments claim as the true parrot? Or no parrot at all? Anyone who doesn't wonder at such things probably doesn't deserve to be allowed to read novels. (  ) KayDekker | Nov 18, 2009 | Absolutely marvelous. I can not escape the idea that this book is a lot more than just Flaubert’s life. Mme Bovary was considered to be the first “novel of realism” in the literary world, but Flaubert very much refused to parade around as a contemporary celebrity. I always wonder is there a message here? Read Barnes' other book “Something to declare” right after this one. ( ) jdth | Nov 12, 2009 | Flaubert's Parrot is a kind of post-modern meta-novel that mostly discusses the life, work, and critical reception of Gustave Flaubert (who wrote Madame Bovary, among other things). But that isn't really what it is about. It is sort of about a retired doctor / amateur Flaubert historian. It is sort of about the doctor's wife. It is sort of about reading and writing and criticism. A lot of it is about adultery and marriage and being with someone and being alone. And some of it is about the identification of stuffed parrots and the exact color of red current jam in the 19th century. That Barnes manages to fit all this and more into 216 pages on the life of Flaubert (and to make those pages conversational, readable, and fun) is quite a feat. If you have never read any Flaubert, hate Flaubert, or rankle at fiction that breaks the fourth wall and employs post-moderny conceits, then this is probably not the book for you. But I really liked it. [full review here: http://spacebeer.blogspot.com/2009/11...] ( )1  kristykay22 | Nov 2, 2009 | This book is a strange amalgam of fictionalised biography, literary criticism and novel, with a light sprinkling of authorial philosophising. It is also considerably more entertaining than I expected. However, it almost seems unable to decide what it wants to be, and some of the comments by the narrator about his own history seem intrusive and out of place. The format of the book is somewhat unorthodox, and I couldn't decide whether it was a success in experimental literature or whether the author was trying to be bold and experimental and just ended up coming across as pretentious. I can't decide what I think about the book - but I shall certainly continue to think about the book even now that I've finished it. (  ) CatyM | Jul 20, 2009 |  no reviews | add a review
References to this work on external resources.
|
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Book description |
|
On the surface, at first, Julian Barnes's book is the tale of an elderly English doctor's search for some intriguing details of Flaubert's life. Geoffrey Braithwaite seems to be involved in an attempt to establish whether a particularly fine, lovely, and ancient stuffed parrot is in fact one originally "borrowed by G. Flaubert from the Museum of Rouen and placed on his worktable during the writing of Un coeur simple, where it is called Loulou, the parrot of Felicité, the principal character of the tale."
What begins as a droll and intriguing excursion into the minutiae of Flaubert's life and intellect, along with an attempt to solve the small puzzle of the parrot--or rather parrots, for there are two competing for the title of Gustave's avian confrere--soon devolves into something obscure and worrisome, the exploration of an arcane Braithwaite obsession that is perhaps even pathological. The first hint we have that all is not as it seems comes almost halfway into the book, when after a humorously cantankerous account of the inadequacies of literary critics, Braithwaite closes a chapter by saying, "Now do you understand why I hate critics? I could try and describe to you the expression in my eyes at this moment; but they are far too discoloured with rage." And from that point, things just get more and more curious, until they end in the most unexpected bang.
One passage perhaps best describes the overall effect of this extraordinary story: "You can define a net in one of two ways, depending on your point of view. Normally, you would say that it is a meshed instrument designed to catch fish. But you could, with no great injury to logic, reverse the image and define the net as a jocular lexicographer once did: he called it a collection of holes tied together with string." Julian Barnes demonstrates that it is possible to catch quite an interesting fish no matter how you define the net. --Andrew Himes
(retrieved from Amazon Tue, 05 Jan 2010 14:33:19 -0500)
The first test round has been closed. Visit the Open Shelves Classification group for details.
Quick Links |
Wikipedia in English (3)
