Posts tagged: books - Matthew M. Conroy's blog

Fernando Pessoa's The Book of Disquiet

11 December 2023 - Posted in Uncategorized by thematt

I finished reading Fernando Pessoa's The Book of Disquiet today. It took me too long to get through it. I am disappointed. I like "overly wordy" writing, but this seriously needed an editor: it is far too repetitive and unfocused to be a good read (I know why it is like this, but still...).

Some good bits: "I have a tender spot - tender to the point of tears - for my ledgers in which I keep other people's accounts, for the old inkstand I use, for the hunched back of Sergio, who draws up invoices a little beyond where I sit. I love all this, perhaps because I have nothing else to love, and perhaps also because nothing is worth a human soul's love, and so it's all the same - should we feel the urge to give it - whether the recipient be the diminutive form of my inkstand or the vast indifference of the stars." (#7)

"Let's buy books as as not to read them; let's go to concerts without caring to hear the music or see who's there; let's take long walks because we're sick of walking; and let's spend whole days in the country, just because it bores us." (#23)

"To live strikes me as a metaphysical mistake of matter, a dereliction of inaction. I refuse to look at the day to find out what it can offer that might distract me and that, being recorded here in writing, might cover up the empty cup of my not wanting myself. I refuse to look at the day, and with my shoulders hunched forward I ignore whether the sun is present or absent outside in the subjectively sad street, in the deserted street where the sound of people passes by. I ignore everything, and my chest hurts." (#99)

"Tedium...I work hard. I fulfill what the moralists of action would say is my social duty. I fulfill that duty, or fate, without too much effort and without gross incompetence. But sometimes right in the middle of my work, or in the middle of the rest which, according to the same moralists, I deserve and ought to enjoy, my soul overflows with a bitter inertia, and I'm tired, not of working or resting, but of me."(#263)

"The love of absurdity and paradox is the animal happiness of the sad. Just as the normal man talks nonsense and slaps others on the back out of zest and vitality, so those incapable of joy and enthusiasm do somersaults in their minds and perform, in their own cold way, the warm gestures of life." (#296)

17 grotesque things in Of Human Bondage

30 July 2022 - Posted in Uncategorized by thematt

The way Philip limped. "Other boys saw it and began to laugh; then they all copied the first; and they ran round Philip, limping grotesquely, screaming in their treble voices with shrill laughter. "
Hayward's elastic-sided boots: "He described one of the vivas with tolerant humour; some fellow in an outrageous collar was asking him questions in logic; it was infinitely tedious, and suddenly he noticed that he wore elastic-sided boots: it was grotesque and ridiculous; so he withdrew his mind and thought of the gothic beauty of the Chapel at King’s."
Miss Wilkinson in her petticoat and camisole: "She had taken off her skirt and blouse, and was standing in her petticoat. It was short and only came down to the top of her boots; the upper part of it was black, of some shiny material, and there was a red flounce. She wore a camisole of white calico with short arms. She looked grotesque. "
Foinet's description of a knee in one of Miss Price's drawings: " 'Look, those arms are not the same length. That knee, it’s grotesque. I tell you a child of five. You see, she’s not standing on her legs. That foot!' "
A table cloth offered for sale: "The Levantine unfolded a table-cloth, red and yellow, vulgar, hideous, and grotesque."
Miss Price: "She gave a gasp and threw him a sudden look of anguish. Then two tears rolled down her cheeks. She looked frowsy and grotesque."
The perspective in one of Miss Price's drawings: "It was not only that they were ill-drawn, or that the colour was put on amateurishly by someone who had no eye for it; but there was no attempt at getting the values, and the perspective was grotesque."
The British-ness of Hayward's appearance: "Hayward in order to put the rest of them at their ease had clothed himself in a tweed suit and a Trinity Hall tie. He looked grotesquely British."
Mildred Roger's name: "He thought of this old fancy of his, and it seemed impossible that he should be in love with Mildred Rogers. Her name was grotesque."
Philip, running: "He was strangely grotesque when he ran."
Mildred, after some violent sobbing: "She had the grotesque look of one of those painters’ dummies used to hang draperies on. "
Philip killing himself: "His reason told him that he would get over his unhappiness in time; if he tried with all his might he could forget her; and it would be grotesque to kill himself on account of a vulgar slut."
The fit of a laurel wreath on the dead Cronshaw's head: " He was pleased with his idea of crowning the dead poet with this; and attempted, notwithstanding Philip’s disapproving silence, to fix it on the bald head; but the wreath fitted grotesquely."
The way Mildred's boots protruded from her petticoats: "Mildred was asleep. She lay with her head thrown back and her mouth slightly open; her legs were stretched out, and her boots protruded from her petticoats in a grotesque fashion."
Philip's opinion of an unpleasant scene between him and Mildred: "While his eyes sought out the newspaper shops to see the war news on the placards, he thought of the scene of the night before: now that it was over and he had slept on it, he could not help thinking it grotesque."
Uncle William: "With his skull-cap and a crochet shawl over his shoulders he looked grotesque."
The importance of money, when it was hard to come by: "when you had to consider every penny, money became of grotesque importance: you needed a competency to rate it at its proper value."