Lezersrecensie
Topstuk binnen de hedendaagse literatuur, een boek van NU
Herlezen september 2021 =>
Herwaardering. Opwaardering. Ik vond het al een heel goed boek in veel opzichten, maar nu nog een beetje meer. Wat staan er toch een hoop mooie woorden, scherpe waarnemingen en waardevolle gedachten in. Enorm hedendaags, een boek van NU.
Mijn beleving was wel echt anders dan toen ik het de eerste keer las, ik stond er nu toch meer ontspannen in.
“It is like democracy is a bottle someone can threaten to smash and do a bit of damage with. It has become a time of people saying stuff to each other and none of it actually ever becoming dialogue. It is the end of dialogue.”
“There is no point in making up a world, Elisabeth said, when there's already a real world. There's just the world, and there's the truth about the world.
You mean there's the truth, and there's the made-up version of it that we get told about the world, Daniel said.
No. The world exists. Stories are made up, Elisabeth said.
But no less true for that, Daniel said.
That's ultra-crazy talk, Elisabeth said.
And whoever makes up the story makes up the world, Daniel said. So always try to welcome people into the home of your story. That’s my suggestion.”
________________
September 2017 =>
The old man, the girl (who is now a woman), their brilliant dialogues – their friendship ànd autumn make all together a beautiful story!
“I couldn’t sleep, Elisabeth said, because I realized I can’t remember a single thing about what my father’s face looks like.
[…]
Elisabeth told him about the pavement, her feet, her father’s face. Daniel looked grave. He sat down on the lawn. He patted the place on the grass next to him.
It’s all right to forget, you know, he said. It’s good to. In fact, we have to forget things sometimes. Forgetting it is important. We do it on purpose. It means we get a bit of a rest. We have to forget. Or we’d never sleep ever again.
[…]
What I do when it distresses me that there’s something I can’t remember, is. I imagine that whatever it is I’ve forgotten is folded close to me, like a sleeping bird.
What kind of bird? Elisabeth said.
A wild bird, Daniel said. Any kind. You’ll know what kind when it happens. Then, what I do is, I just hold it there, without holding it too tight, and I let it sleep. And that’s that.”
Herwaardering. Opwaardering. Ik vond het al een heel goed boek in veel opzichten, maar nu nog een beetje meer. Wat staan er toch een hoop mooie woorden, scherpe waarnemingen en waardevolle gedachten in. Enorm hedendaags, een boek van NU.
Mijn beleving was wel echt anders dan toen ik het de eerste keer las, ik stond er nu toch meer ontspannen in.
“It is like democracy is a bottle someone can threaten to smash and do a bit of damage with. It has become a time of people saying stuff to each other and none of it actually ever becoming dialogue. It is the end of dialogue.”
“There is no point in making up a world, Elisabeth said, when there's already a real world. There's just the world, and there's the truth about the world.
You mean there's the truth, and there's the made-up version of it that we get told about the world, Daniel said.
No. The world exists. Stories are made up, Elisabeth said.
But no less true for that, Daniel said.
That's ultra-crazy talk, Elisabeth said.
And whoever makes up the story makes up the world, Daniel said. So always try to welcome people into the home of your story. That’s my suggestion.”
________________
September 2017 =>
The old man, the girl (who is now a woman), their brilliant dialogues – their friendship ànd autumn make all together a beautiful story!
“I couldn’t sleep, Elisabeth said, because I realized I can’t remember a single thing about what my father’s face looks like.
[…]
Elisabeth told him about the pavement, her feet, her father’s face. Daniel looked grave. He sat down on the lawn. He patted the place on the grass next to him.
It’s all right to forget, you know, he said. It’s good to. In fact, we have to forget things sometimes. Forgetting it is important. We do it on purpose. It means we get a bit of a rest. We have to forget. Or we’d never sleep ever again.
[…]
What I do when it distresses me that there’s something I can’t remember, is. I imagine that whatever it is I’ve forgotten is folded close to me, like a sleeping bird.
What kind of bird? Elisabeth said.
A wild bird, Daniel said. Any kind. You’ll know what kind when it happens. Then, what I do is, I just hold it there, without holding it too tight, and I let it sleep. And that’s that.”
2
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