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Classic Literature.
Fiction.
Literature.
HTML:The spectacular, history-making first novel about a young man's coming of age by literary legend Thomas Wolfe, first published in 1929 and long considered a classic of twentieth century literature. A legendary author on par with William Faulkner and Flannery O'Connor, Thomas Wolfe published Look Homeward, Angel, his first novel, about a young man's burning desire to leave his small town and tumultuous family in search of a better life, in 1929. It gave the world proof of his genius and launched a powerful legacy.
The novel follows the trajectory of Eugene Gant, a brilliant and restless young man whose wanderlust and passion shape his adolescent years in rural North Carolina. Wolfe said that Look Homeward, Angel is "a book made out of my life," and his largely autobiographical story about the quest for a greater intellectual life has resonated with and influenced generations of readers, including some of today's most important novelists. Rich with lyrical prose and vivid characterizations, this twentieth-century American classic will capture the hearts and imaginations of every reader.… (plus d'informations)
This is the story of Eugene Gant, a southerner whose goal eventually becomes going to Harvard. It appears to be somewhat autobiographical as Thomas Wolfe grew up in the South and eventually went to Harvard. How much of Eugene Gant's story is also Thomas Wolfe's story is much less clear. Eugene is the youngest of a very dysfunctional family. His father hates his mother's family and she cannot stand his. The father had been a successful businessman but is erratic in the extreme and very alcoholic. His mother is excessively concerned about expenses wanting every cent to me invested in her passion, real estate. She knows the value of every parcel but is totally blind to the value and the problems of her family members, her spouse and her children. The children act out in rebellion in all directions.
Eugene, being the youngest, is his mother's last chance to get parenting right. He's her darling and can do no wrong, much to the dismay of his older siblings. They got punished for what he now gets away with. He gets support where they got nothing or less than they needed. He turns inward and becomes the scholar they never were. He reads Latin and Greek, reads and writes poetry, thinks about Gods and mythical creatures. They are real to him. They allow him to escape the dysfunction around him. Yet as he grows he sees more and more of what is around him. This is where my problem reading this book began. What was around Eugene was the South of the early twentieth century. As I read many classics I have to remember that was then and this is now and hold off seeing their lives with my eyes. We've moved on. Yet around Eugene is so much that is now repugnant. Wolfe is thoroughly comfortable with the N-word. It and it's variants are used hundreds of times in this book. Most importantly there seems to be no recognition that anything was wrong with this. After a while I found myself shutting down. My empathy for him diminished as he showed no empathy for those around him. Disappointing. I would have loved to see this book in a more positive light.
Back to the story. The mother in her penny-pinching mode has made their home into a boarding house. Many stories surround the less than savory boarders that pass through. Mother seems to totally ignore the fact that many of the boarders are prostitutes. She sees failings in none of then, just her husband and children. Her husband gets progressively ill and is cared for by one of the older girls. The mother always dismisses her husband's illness with there's nothing wrong, or he'll survive, or that's just his way to get attention – never any empathy. This constant theme is heightened when one of Eugene's older brothers gets sick. He was the one who escaped by becoming a sailor and often was never home. As he was dying he refused to even let his mother see him. He wanted no part of her false empathy. His death brought this into stark resolution, even for Eugene.
Eugene escapes by going back to college, becoming a star pupil and preparing to go to Harvard. At the end I was wanted nothing more to do with this dysfunction. It was clear that Wolfe was an impressive writer. The lyricism of his prose reminded me of Thomas Mann, my favorite writer. Wolfe's prose was constantly spinning a situation, wandering almost aimlessly, had many unconnected observations all reminding me of Joyce. Those qualities kept me reading. ( )
Wolfe re-creates his early 20th Century North Carolina childhood from infancy through adolescence in the character of Eugene,, depicting his family members, friends, and neighbors in caricatures without humor, warmth, or affection, in impressionistic, brocaded language in which almost every noun, almost every verb is tangled with modifiers, like burrs on a country dog, and with such an uncontrolled love of similes that frequently he offers the reader a choice of them for a single scene. The book is an inventory of all the places he has seen along with their smells, sounds, and colors; a catalog of all the people he has known, carefully described along with their histories, many of them never mentioned again. It's difficult to read 200,000 words about a person who is too young to have had interesting experiences, too meek and introspective to make observations on human nature, too absorbed in melodramatic fantasies of love and heroism to engage in reality.
I’m actually reading O LOST, but Librarything won’t let me add that.
The writing is verbose. Very good, but in such a long book it gets to be a bit much. I can easily understand now why Max Perkins edited it down so much (which I learned about in the Jude Law movie).
I may not finish this book. Gant’s miracle child is now walking and talking and has forgotten all his glorious discoveries as a babe.
…
I got to page 330 of 660, and finally gave it up for good. It’s just such a slog. Yeah, he writes very admirable sentences, but my God, he just seems to be showing off for very little storytelling payoff. Perhaps Look Homeward Angel is better. Maybe I’ll read that someday ( )
I know this is considered a classic, but I just couldn't finish it. The frequent use of the N word and other derogatory terms was so repellent to me I cringed every time they appeared. The characters were unlikeable, and their stories uninteresting to me. ( )
"Kan De finne om ikkje meir enn ei bok til som kjem på høgd med den av Thomas Wolfe, da har De verkelig gjort ein gjerning." Olav Duun
Da Eliza Gant hadde født yngstebarnet, Eugene, "hadde hun stirret dypt ned i de mørke øynene og sett noe som hun visste skulle gløde der inne bestandig, en dyp utilgjengelig og uoppløselig ensomhet, hun visste det var en fremmed som hadde fått liv i det mørke fanget hennes, en gjenganger i sitt eget sinn, ensom når han var alene og ensom når han var midt i verden. Fortapt."
Informations provenant du Partage des connaissances anglais.Modifiez pour passer à votre langue.
... a stone, a leaf, an unfound door; of a stone, a leaf, a door. And of all the forgotten faces. Naked and alone we came into exile. In her dark womb we did not know our mother's face; from the prison of her flesh have we come into the unspeakable and incommunicable prison of this earth. Which of us has known his brother? Which of us has looked into his father's heart? Which of us has not remained forever prison-pent? Which of us is not forever a stranger and alone? O waste of loss, in the hot mazes, lost, among bright stars on this most weary unbright cinder, lost! Remembering speechlessly we seek the great forgotten language, the lost lane-end into heaven, a stone, a leaf, an unfound door. Where? When? O lost, and by the wind grieved, ghost, come back again.
Dédicace
Informations provenant du Partage des connaissances anglais.Modifiez pour passer à votre langue.
To A.B.
"Then, as all my soules bee, Emparadis'd in you, (in whom alone I understand, and grow and see,) The rafters of my body, bone Being still with you, the Muscle, Sinew, and Veine, Which tile this house, will come againe."
Premiers mots
Informations provenant du Partage des connaissances anglais.Modifiez pour passer à votre langue.
A destiny that leads the English to the Dutch is strange enough; but one that leads from Epsom into Pennsylvania, and thence into the hills that shut in Altamont over the proud coral cry of the cock, and the soft stone smile of an angel, is touched by that dark miracle of chance which makes new magic in a dusty world.
Citations
Derniers mots
Informations provenant du Partage des connaissances anglais.Modifiez pour passer à votre langue.
Yet, as he stood for the last time by the angels of his father's porch, it seemed as if the Square already were far and lost; or, I should say, he was like a man who stands upon a hill above the town he has left, yet does not say "The town is near," but turns his eyes upon the distant soaring ranges.
Classic Literature.
Fiction.
Literature.
HTML:The spectacular, history-making first novel about a young man's coming of age by literary legend Thomas Wolfe, first published in 1929 and long considered a classic of twentieth century literature. A legendary author on par with William Faulkner and Flannery O'Connor, Thomas Wolfe published Look Homeward, Angel, his first novel, about a young man's burning desire to leave his small town and tumultuous family in search of a better life, in 1929. It gave the world proof of his genius and launched a powerful legacy.
The novel follows the trajectory of Eugene Gant, a brilliant and restless young man whose wanderlust and passion shape his adolescent years in rural North Carolina. Wolfe said that Look Homeward, Angel is "a book made out of my life," and his largely autobiographical story about the quest for a greater intellectual life has resonated with and influenced generations of readers, including some of today's most important novelists. Rich with lyrical prose and vivid characterizations, this twentieth-century American classic will capture the hearts and imaginations of every reader.
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Eugene, being the youngest, is his mother's last chance to get parenting right. He's her darling and can do no wrong, much to the dismay of his older siblings. They got punished for what he now gets away with. He gets support where they got nothing or less than they needed. He turns inward and becomes the scholar they never were. He reads Latin and Greek, reads and writes poetry, thinks about Gods and mythical creatures. They are real to him. They allow him to escape the dysfunction around him. Yet as he grows he sees more and more of what is around him. This is where my problem reading this book began. What was around Eugene was the South of the early twentieth century. As I read many classics I have to remember that was then and this is now and hold off seeing their lives with my eyes. We've moved on. Yet around Eugene is so much that is now repugnant. Wolfe is thoroughly comfortable with the N-word. It and it's variants are used hundreds of times in this book. Most importantly there seems to be no recognition that anything was wrong with this. After a while I found myself shutting down. My empathy for him diminished as he showed no empathy for those around him. Disappointing. I would have loved to see this book in a more positive light.
Back to the story. The mother in her penny-pinching mode has made their home into a boarding house. Many stories surround the less than savory boarders that pass through. Mother seems to totally ignore the fact that many of the boarders are prostitutes. She sees failings in none of then, just her husband and children. Her husband gets progressively ill and is cared for by one of the older girls. The mother always dismisses her husband's illness with there's nothing wrong, or he'll survive, or that's just his way to get attention – never any empathy. This constant theme is heightened when one of Eugene's older brothers gets sick. He was the one who escaped by becoming a sailor and often was never home. As he was dying he refused to even let his mother see him. He wanted no part of her false empathy. His death brought this into stark resolution, even for Eugene.
Eugene escapes by going back to college, becoming a star pupil and preparing to go to Harvard. At the end I was wanted nothing more to do with this dysfunction. It was clear that Wolfe was an impressive writer. The lyricism of his prose reminded me of Thomas Mann, my favorite writer. Wolfe's prose was constantly spinning a situation, wandering almost aimlessly, had many unconnected observations all reminding me of Joyce. Those qualities kept me reading. (