Gianclaudio
Aerodynamic Artisan
- Messages
- 3,955
In the same vein as the movies, tv show and music thread; I'll like to make a thread where we can share our reading experiences.
So, I'll kickstart. During lockdown, I went back to literature after years and years of just technical books, and haven't stopped ever since (time permitting, of course). These are my recent findings:
-The memoirs of Barry Lyndon; by William Makepeace:
I'm a massive Kubrick fan and admirer, watched the film and loved to bits. So I thought I'll be nice to read the novel it was based on. I did read in english, which was a great experience as it brought lots of new (actually, old) vocabulary to mine. An enjoyable read, but midway through the book it falls into pools; and the percentage of the novel given to the descend/fall of luck of the main character is just too small and abbreviated. 6/10
-Lolita; Nabokov:
Simply; I hated it. On my few first pages, I liked the finesse and eloquence of the way it's written, but all in all, an exercise of literature masturbation. The "roadtrip through the States" is just an endless, ultra detailed description of nothing worthy. Couldn't care less for the color of the floor, the picture hanging in the room, etc; for every single place and situation
Ps: the main theme does make you feel uncomfortably at times, but is not explicit, and actually, doesn't take too much of time. Rating: a torture.
-Cien años de soledad (Hundred years of solitude); by Gabriel Garcia Marquez: Beautifully written, enjoyable and with a great ending.
Feels familiar for me, in the sense that I'm a guy who witnessed how his village in the middle of nowhere, grew ferociously into a big city, pretty much like Macondo, the fictional town in the book.
You'll need to make a family tree, as the character's names keep repeating. 8/10
I'll continue later, as I've to lunch.
Please feel free to share your reading experiences.
So, I'll kickstart. During lockdown, I went back to literature after years and years of just technical books, and haven't stopped ever since (time permitting, of course). These are my recent findings:
-The memoirs of Barry Lyndon; by William Makepeace:
I'm a massive Kubrick fan and admirer, watched the film and loved to bits. So I thought I'll be nice to read the novel it was based on. I did read in english, which was a great experience as it brought lots of new (actually, old) vocabulary to mine. An enjoyable read, but midway through the book it falls into pools; and the percentage of the novel given to the descend/fall of luck of the main character is just too small and abbreviated. 6/10
-Lolita; Nabokov:
Simply; I hated it. On my few first pages, I liked the finesse and eloquence of the way it's written, but all in all, an exercise of literature masturbation. The "roadtrip through the States" is just an endless, ultra detailed description of nothing worthy. Couldn't care less for the color of the floor, the picture hanging in the room, etc; for every single place and situation
Ps: the main theme does make you feel uncomfortably at times, but is not explicit, and actually, doesn't take too much of time. Rating: a torture.
-Cien años de soledad (Hundred years of solitude); by Gabriel Garcia Marquez: Beautifully written, enjoyable and with a great ending.
Feels familiar for me, in the sense that I'm a guy who witnessed how his village in the middle of nowhere, grew ferociously into a big city, pretty much like Macondo, the fictional town in the book.
You'll need to make a family tree, as the character's names keep repeating. 8/10
I'll continue later, as I've to lunch.
Please feel free to share your reading experiences.
