Sorunlar Sorular ve Cevaplar itibaren Beyan Yayınları içinde LIT biçim

Christian Tabotabo _abotabo — Elime alırken bu kitap hakkında ne düşüneceğime dair hiçbir fikrim yoktu, ama sonunda tarihi kurgu yönünü gerçekten sevmeye başladım. Aslında, ilk karısıyla yaşamını nelerin etkilemiş olabileceğini belirlemek için Hemingway'in bazı çalışmalarını gerçekten okumak istiyorum. Denenmiş ve gerçek klasikleri seçmeye pek ilgi duymadığım için benim için bir ilk.

Robert W intjdesigner — ** spoiler alert ** Let the Great World Spin is a very well written book. Unfortunately it is not a style of writing that I enjoy. It is very slow paced and the beginning takes some effort to get through - although eventually you do start to care about the characters. The book is set in NYC during the summer of 1974 with Frenchman Philippe Petit’s walk across the World Trade Centers serving as the backdrop. McCann introduces a number of diverse characters, including a wealthy Park Avenue judge, a poor immigrant priest, a family of prostitutes and a couple of artists. It is not until the second part of the book that the reader begins to understand how all these stories are woven together. The reader then starts to see that like NYC itself and the old World Trade Center buildings that these stories build upon each other and are all interconnected. It just is so very time consuming getting there. Be warned that although Let the Great World Spin is an interesting book it is certainly not a light, quick read.

郭 中正 1156688628fd57 — I'm fascinated by the controversial reintroduction of wolves at Yellowstone National Park and had to read this book as soon as I saw it. (And what better place to read it than here in Montana?) Renee Askins' struggle against cattle ranchers, hunters, and the law was interesting, and I respect her for all of the sacrifices and hard work she put in to achieving the seemingly impossible, but at the same time, I sort of wish I could read the same book written by someone less involved in the campaign. Askins was far too emotionally involved to give an unbiased view of both sides of the battle (though, based on the death threats and chaos Askins had to endure from many of the cattle ranchers and hunters, I don't blame her for giving them a bad rep). I think it'd be interesting to read this same story from a journalist's point of view, one who was there for everything but could see both sides of the argument. Still, Askins brought up some very thought provoking points about the wild and the moral problems we must face when we try to control it, even if it is to save a species, or in this case, an entire ecosystem. And, if possible, this book made me even more obsessed with wolves and the wild.

Camiel Rosbergen _amiel_9851 — I read this as a high school student (an odd literary moment for me) and though I did not remember the main plot points, I vividly remember the sensations this book evoked in me. On a second reading those feelings are little augmented and greatly heightened. That’s not odd considering the slightly different vantage point of reading this as a 16-year-old and now ten years later. I love this slice of American history. The novel begins with a quick overview of smaller cities in America, their main attractions, the main families that moved in affluence and wealth in the 1880s and 90s. This is when the Ambersons gained their magnificence. Then the novel rushed into the 20th century, depicting the dawn of the age of the automobile and the third generation of Ambersons: George Amberson Minafer. George is awful. I admit I laughed when he tells the pastor to “go to hell” as a little child, but his is beyond spoiled: a monster created by his doting family, and particularly by his mother. He grows up knowing that he “owns” the town, that his family is insanely rich, and that no one will ever tell him “no.” At least not his family, which all that matters to him. We even hear his philosophy in the importance of “being, rather than doing.” Now, while I candidly admit that George is a monster, I cannot help but condemn his mother almost equally. She is blinded by devotion and worship of her son in a way that eclipses nearly everything else, including God, as we see her at one point saying her prayers outside George’s bedroom then kissing his door. This, compounded with the glimpse into George’s pampered life beyond his mother, as well as his youth (very early twenties during the bulk of the novel) allows me to equally abhor and pity George. The key moment for me, among the depictions of the rise of industry (American capitalism), the fall of the social hierarchy (again Americans cheer), and the fairly realistic and glaring look at those consequences, comes directly after George’s mother dies. He has acted horribly, ruining his mother’s chance of second happiness in a romance with Eugene Morgan, ruining his own chances with Lucy Morgan in the process. At her deathbed he turns Morgan away again, all for “the family name, the family credit.” Afterwards, he is confronted with the consequences. He breaks down in front of his aunt, "And you put this on me, too; you put this responsibility on me. But I tell you, and I told Uncle George, that the responsibility isn’t all mine! If you were so sure I was wrong all the time—when I took her away, and when I turned Morgan out—if you were so sure, what did you let me do it for? You and Uncle George were grown people, both of you, weren’t you? You were older than I, and if you were so sure you were wiser than I, why did you just stand around with your hands hanging down, and let me go ahead? You could have stopped it if it was wrong, couldn’t you?" (Ch. 30). In this moment I see his aunt tell him that she couldn’t have stopped him. She and her family admit their weaknesses, admit their failings. But George must bear the consequences. It is so just and it is so unjust. That question, “You could have stopped me if it was wrong, couldn’t you?” resonates as the climax of the piece for me. After this, the Ambersons unravel. His mother dies, his grandfather dies, there is no money, the uncle leaves the country, and the Ambersons are no longer living, much less magnificent. The author even begins to make a point of referring to George as George Minafer or even just Minafer to emphasize the loss. The Ambersons are lost in the greatness of the city that sprung up around them. Every last trace. This final spiral is beautifully crafted, and George’s character finally emerges. He takes up work to support his flight, needy, and sometimes ridiculous aunt. I enjoyed seeing subtleties emerge in him, even though he is not cured of all his former faults. My real issue with the novel emerges only in the last two chapters. I dislike the focus on Morgan (and the weird Dickensian “rabbit out of the hat” contrived ending plot twist). I also dislike that Morgan tries to forgive George for his mother’s sake. She’s half the problem, and Morgan continues to worship her and blame George (not completely wrongly, but it does show his blindness). It all struck me as forced and untrue to the rest of the work. Perhaps this is also a comment on the American audience: sure we want to see our country’s evolution, but not at the price of an unhappy ending. Tarkington contrives a sentimental ending, rather than leaving us with a novel that shows us a gaping wound on the mend which would have remained true to the beauty of the rest of his work.