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Loading... The Sheltering Sky (1949)by Paul Bowles (Author)
Unrelenting nihilist perspective. Part of the way through this book, I thought "I should spend my precious moments reading things that appeal to me, instead of forcing myself to finish, no matter what." In the future, I will strive to recall this book and these thoughts and act accordingly... Oh I finished this one about three weeks ago but geez where does the time go? Well, I guess I think that the main crux of the book lies within it's overall storytelling and I thought the imagery of North Africa was sometimes striking but Bowles's attempts at character development fell flat with me. Even worse, I hated all of the main characters so when trouble befell them, I couldn't care less. I was hoping they'd all get eaten by a lion halfway through the book and Bowles would find some more decent subjects to write about. Well, that's probably a bit harsh. Suffice it to say if you are just wondering how three Americans would do in North Africa, you might like this book. For me, not so much... The Sheltering Sky is big, beautiful, complicated and intensely atmospheric - but, to my mind, it's somewhat lacking in some of the basic elements I've come to expect from a well-told, well-crafted novel. For my complete review, come and visit my blog, Book to the Future - probably the only blog on the internet devoted to reading, tea and time travel... http://booktothefuture.com.au/?p=2135 The characters are extremely unsympathetic, but I suppose that is part of the point. The real star here is Morocco and the desert.
There is a curiously double level to this novel. The surface is enthralling as narrative. It is impressive as writing. But above that surface is the aura that I spoke of, intangible and powerful, bringing to mind one of those clouds that you have seen in summer, close to the horizon and dark in color and now and then silently pulsing with interior flashes of fire. And that is the surface of the novel that has filled me with such excitement. Is contained in
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I was quite enjoying the novel, depsite its darkness and deeply nihilistic theme, when WHAM! All of a sudden I found myself in the middle of 'The Sheik' with Rudolph Valentino. I sat scratching my head for awhile, wondering what the heck just happened and how the novel had taken this weird turn. I still don't get it. At that point, I plodded through to the end, greatly disappointed (when I wasn't shaking my head or snorting).
I can't recommend this one. So much emotional investment building up to an unbelievable ending that was totally out of sync with the rest of the novel.
If I read anything else by Bowles, it will be because of his style--not his nearly-nonexistent agility with plot or character. (