Karoo

"Hilarious" in a cover blurb of a book would normally make me put the book back on the shelf. This book has such a blurb, but I guess I was drawn to the "A powerful and deeply disturbing portrait..." quote instead. Indeed, I was more often disturbed than provoked to laughter by this excellent work. For me it raised the topic in which I have an enduring interest: the father-child relationship. In particular, it addresses the question of redemption and forgiveness. I was disturbed by Tesich's somewhat pessimistic perspective on this. One aspect I especially liked in this book was the discussion of truth and lies, and how sometimes people lie and their conversation partner knows the speaker is lying, but nothing is said or acknowledged by show more either person, despite both people being aware of the lie. An open secret, as it were. There are some aspects of this story that did not appeal, namely: the idea that the narrator has a 'disease' which blocks his response to alcohol; the tendency for some people to be caricatures rather than people with real depth; and the descent into predictable farce at times. Not surprisingly, given Tesich's main role as a screenplay writer, the novel did appear more like a film or television script than a 'real' novel at times, but for me there was sufficient depth and verisimilitude to justify a 4-star rating. show less

"he would have to live out his days with the knowledge that he had no future"

"his story line goes from the epic genre to the tragic and from the tragic to the tragicomic, until it finally settles down to farce. Whatever journey he had been on is over."

Astonishing, jarring, completely unfiltered writing. The unspoken thoughts spoken. The unbearable realizations realized. The impossible confessions confessed. An extraordinary odyssey that hurtles into the void. What is our pain when we understand that our dreams will never be realized? How acute is our suffering when we acknowledge that our time has run out? What do we do when we have days to live with no future to live them in?
A brilliant novel that will stay with you for an eternity.

There's two reasons this book is not underrated. The first person narrator and protagonaist is a profoundly unlikeable, irrational, self-sabotaging emotional cripple. Now, I know that doesn't mean it couldn't be a good book, but the trouble is that the writing is just not good enough to get us on board with him. Compare Saul Karoo with Nabakov's Humbert Humbert and clearly Nabakov's character is much more morally repugnant. However, he still manages to charm and woo the reader far more than Saul Karoo ever does. That's because although there are passages of wit, the writing in this novel doesn't have the sizzle and relentless brilliance of Lolita. The descriptions meander, the action is less than crisp and the same point is laboured too show more often.

The second reason is that at some point the author loses faith in the power of his irony and drops it, so that the second half of the book becomes too earnest and suffers for it. It's a mistake that Julian Barnes or Martin Amis would never make.

This could be a very good three hundred page book, but it's too long and the author doesn't have the technical ability to realise his ideas. show less

I was reading and enjoying it really, but I don't know what happened towards the last few chapters of the book it's like the author gave up or as if he delegated the writing to someone else. First person narrative was lost and the effect rather than being artistic as probably intended, became just weird and made the reader stop enjoying the narrative and the story. It is a disappointment.

Couldn't finish this one.

Karoo est un homme insupportable: égoïste, égocentrique, manipulateur, imbu de lui-même, prétentieux, sans scrupule, incroyablement hypocrite, mais par dessus tout d'une lâcheté à toute épreuve. Karoo est un raté. Pas un pauvre raté. Une très riche erreur de l'existence. Il dérive, sans but, sans conviction. Son rôle dans la société est une aberration: il réécrit des scénarios de films d'auteurs pour en faire des scénarios de films très rentables. Il n'en est pas fier, mais trop lâche pour refuser cette tâche insensée, même lorsqu'il a entre les mains le plus grand chef d'oeuvre qu'il lui ait jamais été donné de voir. Mais il ne se contente pas de détruire les oeuvres d'autrui: il réécrit aussi la vie des show more gens. Trop lâche pour être acteur de sa vie, c'est en manipulant son entourage qu'il se crée le scénario qui lui convient. Jusqu'au jour où la vie lui rappelle brutalement qu'on ne la réécrit pas. Karoo est une tragédie à la grecque.

Il a fallu m'accrocher. Dans une longue première partie, on découvre ce personnage, ses pensées, ses analyses à la fois extrèmement pertinentes, et en mêmes temps complètement faussées par un refus de Karoo de se regarder dans un miroir. On ne peut tomber dans le piège de ses maladies imaginaires: celle de l'ivresse en particulier. Karoo se ment à lui-même, encore plus qu'il ne ment à ses semblables.

Dans la seconde partie, on se laisse berner, un peu. Un léger espoir naît d'une rencontre. Mais très vite, le souvenir de la première partie nous rappelle à l'ordre, et c'est donc dans l'attente d'un choc brutale que l'on tourne les pages. L'évènement est même annoncé: il s'agira de la première du fameux grand chef d'oeuvre détruit.

Et le choc nous surprend, alors qu'on savait s'en approcher à vive allure. Au moment où le désespoir est à son comble, Karoo retournant sa veste, une ultime fois, aveuglé par sa lâcheté. Le choc est irréversible. Mais il faut encore du temps à Karoo pour lâcher prise, ouvrir les yeux. On sort presqu'aussitôt de Karoo, à la troisième personne, le renvoyant à sa solitude. Rideau. show less

Un « écrivain » spécialisé dans la reprise de scénarios et d’adaptations pour le cinéma, père adoptif séparé de son épouse, gras et sévèrement névrosé, spectateur de sa vie, coincé dans une sorte de mise en abyme de lui-même, voguant dans une stase vaseuse…

L’histoire d’un menteur procrastinateur autocentré

Un livre brillant, une oeuvre autour d’un anti-héros coincé dans sa propre histoire comme une limace dans un verre de bière