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Nell'intimità
E' una notte lunga per Jay: ha deciso di lasciare la compagna e i suoi due figli, dopo anni trascorsi tra litigi e riappacificazioni. Mentre si prepara ad abbandonare la sua casa, non può fare a meno di ripensare alla sua vita, di rivivere le trasgressioni dell'adolescenza, i sogni mai realizzati e la paura delle responsabilità. Gli amori passati, gli amici, scorrono davanti ai suoi occhi come in un film, mettendo a nudo tutte le sue debolezze. E' davvero deciso ad abbandonare la noiosa tranquillità quotidiana, rischiando l'affetto dei figli? Riuscirà a chiudersi dietro le spalle quella porta e diventare un altro uomo? L'alba è vicina, non c'è più tempo per continuare a guardare dentro se stesso e scegliere se non voltarsi più indietro.
108 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1998
About the author
Hanif Kureishi
108 books1,004 followersHanif Kureishi is the author of novels (including The Buddha of Suburbia, The Black Album and Intimacy), story collections (Love in a Blue Time, Midnight All Day, The Body), plays (including Outskirts, Borderline and Sleep With Me), and screenplays (including My Beautiful Laundrette, My Son the Fanatic and Venus). Among his other publications are the collection of essays Dreaming and Scheming, The Word and the Bomb and the memoir My Ear at His Heart.
Kureishi was born in London to a Pakistani father and an English mother. His father, Rafiushan, was from a wealthy Madras family, most of whose members moved to Pakistan after the Partition of India in 1947. He came to Britain to study law but soon abandoned his studies. After meeting and marrying Kureishi’s mother Audrey, Rafiushan settled in Bromley, where Kureishi was born, and worked at the Pakistan Embassy.
Kureishi attended Bromley Technical High School where David Bowie had also been a pupil and after taking his A levels at a local sixth form college, he spent a year studying philosophy at Lancaster University before dropping out. Later he attended King’s College London and took a degree in philosophy. In 1985 he wrote My Beautiful Laundrette, a screenplay about a gay Pakistani-British boy growing up in 1980’s London for a film directed by Stephen Frears. It won the New York Film Critics Best Screenplay Award and an Academy Award nomination for Best Screenplay.
His book The Buddha of Suburbia (1990) won the Whitbread Award for the best first novel, and was also made into a BBC television series with a soundtrack by David Bowie. The next year, 1991, saw the release of the feature film entitled London Kills Me; a film written and directed Kureishi.
His novel Intimacy (1998) revolved around the story of a man leaving his wife and two young sons after feeling physically and emotionally rejected by his wife. This created certain controversy as Kureishi himself had recently left his wife and two young sons. It is assumed to be at least semi-autobiographical. In 2000/2001 the novel was loosely adapted to a movie Intimacy by Patrice Chéreau, which won two Bears at the Berlin Film Festival: a Golden Bear for Best Film, and a Silver Bear for Best Actress (Kerry Fox). It was controversial for its unreserved sex scenes. The book was translated into Persian by Niki Karimi in 2005.
He was appointed Commander of the Order of the British Empire (CBE) in the 2008 New Year Honours.
Kureishi is married and has a pair of twins and a younger son.
Kureishi was born in London to a Pakistani father and an English mother. His father, Rafiushan, was from a wealthy Madras family, most of whose members moved to Pakistan after the Partition of India in 1947. He came to Britain to study law but soon abandoned his studies. After meeting and marrying Kureishi’s mother Audrey, Rafiushan settled in Bromley, where Kureishi was born, and worked at the Pakistan Embassy.
Kureishi attended Bromley Technical High School where David Bowie had also been a pupil and after taking his A levels at a local sixth form college, he spent a year studying philosophy at Lancaster University before dropping out. Later he attended King’s College London and took a degree in philosophy. In 1985 he wrote My Beautiful Laundrette, a screenplay about a gay Pakistani-British boy growing up in 1980’s London for a film directed by Stephen Frears. It won the New York Film Critics Best Screenplay Award and an Academy Award nomination for Best Screenplay.
His book The Buddha of Suburbia (1990) won the Whitbread Award for the best first novel, and was also made into a BBC television series with a soundtrack by David Bowie. The next year, 1991, saw the release of the feature film entitled London Kills Me; a film written and directed Kureishi.
His novel Intimacy (1998) revolved around the story of a man leaving his wife and two young sons after feeling physically and emotionally rejected by his wife. This created certain controversy as Kureishi himself had recently left his wife and two young sons. It is assumed to be at least semi-autobiographical. In 2000/2001 the novel was loosely adapted to a movie Intimacy by Patrice Chéreau, which won two Bears at the Berlin Film Festival: a Golden Bear for Best Film, and a Silver Bear for Best Actress (Kerry Fox). It was controversial for its unreserved sex scenes. The book was translated into Persian by Niki Karimi in 2005.
He was appointed Commander of the Order of the British Empire (CBE) in the 2008 New Year Honours.
Kureishi is married and has a pair of twins and a younger son.
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July 13, 2021
LOVE IN A BLUE TIME
Mark Rylance e Kerry Fox in “Intimacy”, 2001, regia di Patrice Chéreau.
Sono tornato a leggerlo per una serie di circostanze che mi hanno stimolato interesse e buona disposizione verso Kureishi.
Ho trovato l'inizio eccellente, piuttosto portentoso.
Mark Rylance e Timothy Spall nello stesso film.
Ho letto e riletto le parole, trovandole troppo profonde per una sola semplice lettura: al contempo, notavo anche la semplicità, l'apparente immediatezza della scrittura.
Non so bene perché, ma leggendolo ripensavo molto al bel film di Ferreri, "Dillinger è morto".
Michel Piccoli protagonista del film di Marco Ferreri “Dillinger è morto”, 1969.
Andando avanti, tuttavia, è cominciata a crescermi la sensazione che Kureishi scrivesse bene cose molto banali e terra-terra, cioè che sapesse vestire bene delle banalità.
Guardando un filmaccio alla tv, ho paragonato il libro a Sharon Stone, che in quella trama assurda e insignificante, con partner insignificanti (Stallone e Eric Roberts), sapeva esprimere magistralmente con incredibile intensità le piatte banalità del copione.
Sharon Stone e Sylvester Stallone in “Lo specialista” di Luis Llosa, 1994.
Mark Rylance e Kerry Fox in “Intimacy”, 2001, regia di Patrice Chéreau.
Sono tornato a leggerlo per una serie di circostanze che mi hanno stimolato interesse e buona disposizione verso Kureishi.
Ho trovato l'inizio eccellente, piuttosto portentoso.
Mark Rylance e Timothy Spall nello stesso film.
Ho letto e riletto le parole, trovandole troppo profonde per una sola semplice lettura: al contempo, notavo anche la semplicità, l'apparente immediatezza della scrittura.
Non so bene perché, ma leggendolo ripensavo molto al bel film di Ferreri, "Dillinger è morto".
Michel Piccoli protagonista del film di Marco Ferreri “Dillinger è morto”, 1969.
Andando avanti, tuttavia, è cominciata a crescermi la sensazione che Kureishi scrivesse bene cose molto banali e terra-terra, cioè che sapesse vestire bene delle banalità.
Guardando un filmaccio alla tv, ho paragonato il libro a Sharon Stone, che in quella trama assurda e insignificante, con partner insignificanti (Stallone e Eric Roberts), sapeva esprimere magistralmente con incredibile intensità le piatte banalità del copione.
Sharon Stone e Sylvester Stallone in “Lo specialista” di Luis Llosa, 1994.
March 9, 2009
If I was ever (God forbid) asked to teach a course on the ethics of fiction, this slim novel would surely be on the assigned reading list.
Intimacy unfolds over the course of 24 hours as its protagonist, a middle-aged screenwriter named Jay, prepares to leave Susan, the mother of his two young sons. Not that he has told her he's going; he intends simply to pack his bag and slip out the door in the morning after she goes to work.
This is a case of art imitating life if there ever was one. Like his protagonist Jay, Kureishi himself is in his forties; like Jay, Kureishi has been nominated for an Academy Award, and has a weakness for psychopharmacology. And like Jay, shortly before the publication of this novel Kureishi left his wife and two sons.
The release of Intimacy saw a brief flurry of reviews which lambasted the book as thinly-veiled self-confession. Among the most vocal critics of the novel were Kureishi's sister and ex-wife both of whom condemned the author for, essentially, airing private dirty laundry on the international stage.
Subsequently, the furor over Kureishi's novel subsided somewhat; the majority of reviewers have been reluctant to make grand pronouncements about what a novelist should, and shouldn't, be empowered to write about. This is an understandable impulse: nobody wants to be viewed as guilty of censorship or small-mindedness; indeed, being unshockable and accepting when it comes to art is generally accepted as synonymous with sophistication.
But let's consider this outlook for a moment. Sure, it's easy to say that in principle that a great work of art could emerge from the examination of any given subject. But granted that it's not possible to take the stance, a la Jesse Helms, that certain topics should be artistically off-limits a priori, what about applying ethical standards to specific cases? It is unreasonable to believe that, like doctors or politicians, artists can be guilty of unethical behavior in the practice of their chosen profession? And, if so, what might that mean?
Rather than leaping headlong into these thorny questions, it's instructive to start by looking at some of the things that are wrong with Kureishi's novel. To begin with, for a novel ostensibly about -- well, intimacy, and interpersonal relationships -- virtually all the characters in Intimacy are shallow to the point of being ciphers. Susan, Jay's wife, appears only in terms of Jay's dislike for her "fat, red weeping face" and his sour quips along the lines of "she thinks she's a feminist but she's just bad-tempered." As for Jay's sons, although our protagonist is ostensibly tormented over the hurt he may cause them by disappearing without a word of warning (what, you think?) they receive, if anything, an even more cursory treatment than his wife, cropping up mainly as background scenery and noise for Jay's self-pitying observations.
And, make no mistake, Jay is a champion of self-pity. "I have lost my relish for living," he announces. "I am apathetic and most of the time want nothing, except to understand why there hasn't been more happiness here." He is a navel-gazing, self-indulgent child at heart; the few insights which occur to him are depressingly generic exercises in justification which shed no light on the situation at hand. For example, he points out that "Desire is naughty and doesn't conform to our ideals ... Desire is the original anarchist and undercover agent." Yeah, sure, and...?
So where do all of Jay's lucubrations get him? Predictably, the answer is not very far. As scheduled, he leaves his wife and sons to be with Nina, a club girl who combines (here's a twist) elements of mother and whore in one fuzzily-drawn, idealized package. As our hero traipses off into the bliss of Nina's embrace, still unenlightened and tearful (it's not easy, being the father who leaves his children) one gets the distinct sense that nothing has changed and that the sordid little drama we have just witnessed is, or will be, only one in a series of similar dismal incidents.
All told, if Intimacy has a message it seems to be this: that sometimes people do stupid, confused, hurtful things.
The question then arises: what does all of this mean in terms of the ethics of fiction? If one believes that novels are nothing more than entertainment, then Intimacy is nothing more than a case of bad writing. But any serious author must realize that stories are more than just diverting sentences on paper. In a literal sense, the stories we tell ourselves form the basis for our understanding of our selves and of the world. And as such, they have lasting significance as epistemological acts. This subject quickly moves beyond book-review territory, and I'll leave it to the judgment of Kureishi's readers as to whether this book offers any meaningful insights about the human condition. But apart from such lofty standards, let me throw out an off-the-cuff suggestion about the minimal ethical responsibilities of a novelist, taken from the Hippocratic Oath: first, do no harm.
It is on this count that, most plainly, Intimacy seems to me like a basically irresponsible piece of writing. Whether or not Kureishi intended this book to be taken as autobiography (which seems difficult to deny), the fact is that his family and the public at large will read it as such. Kureishi is an internationally recognized author who has used his pulpit to smear his ex-wife and publicize what appears to be the private tragedies of his family. I would argue that writer with a modicum of decency would have attempted to minimally disguise the real circumstances about which he is writing. What would it have cost Kureishi to depict Jay as, let's say, an academic rather than a fiction writer? Or to give him a daughter rather than two sons? This minimal kindness would have given Kureishi's ex-wife and sons at least a chance to avoid being preemptively framed as the characters in this novel.
Regardless of the theoretical standards which we apply to art, it seems little enough to ask of an author that they refrain from defaming the people who are close to them, and Intimacy fails even this modest benchmark. Mr. Kureishi, you should be ashamed of yourself.
Intimacy unfolds over the course of 24 hours as its protagonist, a middle-aged screenwriter named Jay, prepares to leave Susan, the mother of his two young sons. Not that he has told her he's going; he intends simply to pack his bag and slip out the door in the morning after she goes to work.
This is a case of art imitating life if there ever was one. Like his protagonist Jay, Kureishi himself is in his forties; like Jay, Kureishi has been nominated for an Academy Award, and has a weakness for psychopharmacology. And like Jay, shortly before the publication of this novel Kureishi left his wife and two sons.
The release of Intimacy saw a brief flurry of reviews which lambasted the book as thinly-veiled self-confession. Among the most vocal critics of the novel were Kureishi's sister and ex-wife both of whom condemned the author for, essentially, airing private dirty laundry on the international stage.
Subsequently, the furor over Kureishi's novel subsided somewhat; the majority of reviewers have been reluctant to make grand pronouncements about what a novelist should, and shouldn't, be empowered to write about. This is an understandable impulse: nobody wants to be viewed as guilty of censorship or small-mindedness; indeed, being unshockable and accepting when it comes to art is generally accepted as synonymous with sophistication.
But let's consider this outlook for a moment. Sure, it's easy to say that in principle that a great work of art could emerge from the examination of any given subject. But granted that it's not possible to take the stance, a la Jesse Helms, that certain topics should be artistically off-limits a priori, what about applying ethical standards to specific cases? It is unreasonable to believe that, like doctors or politicians, artists can be guilty of unethical behavior in the practice of their chosen profession? And, if so, what might that mean?
Rather than leaping headlong into these thorny questions, it's instructive to start by looking at some of the things that are wrong with Kureishi's novel. To begin with, for a novel ostensibly about -- well, intimacy, and interpersonal relationships -- virtually all the characters in Intimacy are shallow to the point of being ciphers. Susan, Jay's wife, appears only in terms of Jay's dislike for her "fat, red weeping face" and his sour quips along the lines of "she thinks she's a feminist but she's just bad-tempered." As for Jay's sons, although our protagonist is ostensibly tormented over the hurt he may cause them by disappearing without a word of warning (what, you think?) they receive, if anything, an even more cursory treatment than his wife, cropping up mainly as background scenery and noise for Jay's self-pitying observations.
And, make no mistake, Jay is a champion of self-pity. "I have lost my relish for living," he announces. "I am apathetic and most of the time want nothing, except to understand why there hasn't been more happiness here." He is a navel-gazing, self-indulgent child at heart; the few insights which occur to him are depressingly generic exercises in justification which shed no light on the situation at hand. For example, he points out that "Desire is naughty and doesn't conform to our ideals ... Desire is the original anarchist and undercover agent." Yeah, sure, and...?
So where do all of Jay's lucubrations get him? Predictably, the answer is not very far. As scheduled, he leaves his wife and sons to be with Nina, a club girl who combines (here's a twist) elements of mother and whore in one fuzzily-drawn, idealized package. As our hero traipses off into the bliss of Nina's embrace, still unenlightened and tearful (it's not easy, being the father who leaves his children) one gets the distinct sense that nothing has changed and that the sordid little drama we have just witnessed is, or will be, only one in a series of similar dismal incidents.
All told, if Intimacy has a message it seems to be this: that sometimes people do stupid, confused, hurtful things.
The question then arises: what does all of this mean in terms of the ethics of fiction? If one believes that novels are nothing more than entertainment, then Intimacy is nothing more than a case of bad writing. But any serious author must realize that stories are more than just diverting sentences on paper. In a literal sense, the stories we tell ourselves form the basis for our understanding of our selves and of the world. And as such, they have lasting significance as epistemological acts. This subject quickly moves beyond book-review territory, and I'll leave it to the judgment of Kureishi's readers as to whether this book offers any meaningful insights about the human condition. But apart from such lofty standards, let me throw out an off-the-cuff suggestion about the minimal ethical responsibilities of a novelist, taken from the Hippocratic Oath: first, do no harm.
It is on this count that, most plainly, Intimacy seems to me like a basically irresponsible piece of writing. Whether or not Kureishi intended this book to be taken as autobiography (which seems difficult to deny), the fact is that his family and the public at large will read it as such. Kureishi is an internationally recognized author who has used his pulpit to smear his ex-wife and publicize what appears to be the private tragedies of his family. I would argue that writer with a modicum of decency would have attempted to minimally disguise the real circumstances about which he is writing. What would it have cost Kureishi to depict Jay as, let's say, an academic rather than a fiction writer? Or to give him a daughter rather than two sons? This minimal kindness would have given Kureishi's ex-wife and sons at least a chance to avoid being preemptively framed as the characters in this novel.
Regardless of the theoretical standards which we apply to art, it seems little enough to ask of an author that they refrain from defaming the people who are close to them, and Intimacy fails even this modest benchmark. Mr. Kureishi, you should be ashamed of yourself.
July 21, 2023
Here's the story based on events in the author's own life.
A man has decided to commit an act which he knows may get him condemned. Not in a court of law but wherever family and friends gather to talk, kitchens or pubs. He's not done it yet. He just tells us that he will. He lets us into his plans. He gives us his reasons. He makes his case. He is persuasive and, at times, passionate.
A great book is struggling here. It wants out as large babies do to mother's with small hips and an even smaller pelvis. That takes patience. I wish Kureishi had given the real events and his pen more time. Then, with more gentleness this book could have been brought to light to sit happily with The Buddha of Suburbia and My Beautiful Laundrette.
A man has decided to commit an act which he knows may get him condemned. Not in a court of law but wherever family and friends gather to talk, kitchens or pubs. He's not done it yet. He just tells us that he will. He lets us into his plans. He gives us his reasons. He makes his case. He is persuasive and, at times, passionate.
A great book is struggling here. It wants out as large babies do to mother's with small hips and an even smaller pelvis. That takes patience. I wish Kureishi had given the real events and his pen more time. Then, with more gentleness this book could have been brought to light to sit happily with The Buddha of Suburbia and My Beautiful Laundrette.
October 10, 2007
Y lo que nos enseña esta obra es que la crisis de los 40 puede hacer mucho daño en algunos hombres. No porque abandonen a la mujer y a sus hijos en medio de la noche para irse a perseguir una jovencita a la que doblan la edad, sino porque sienten también la necesidad de escribirlo y acaban saliendo castañas como 'Intimidad'. Esta obra es tan narciso-nihilista que me recuerda al peor Houellebecq. Repetitiva hasta el tedio. Y como siempre este nihilismo, tan típico de ciertos autores de hoy en día, acaba desembocando en misoginia. Las mujeres son de cartón-piedra: la esposa es la bruja y la amante es la mujer irreal creada por la fantasía de un hombre para satisfacer sus deseos (básicamente sexuales). Y no me hagáis hablar de la madre del protagonista. Por favor. El caso es que todas las mujeres son presentadas desde una óptica desfavorable (como castradoras de los hombres) y todos los hombres son presentados como dignos de compasión, pobrecitos, que sufren mucho. Me reiría sino fuera porque ya me han contado el mismo chiste centenares de veces antes. El protagonista es patético, pero lo peor es que el escritor no sabe que su protagonista es patético. Tiene ironía, pero es una ironía como mecanismo de defensa. Puede que sea esto del mecanismo de defensa sea algo inevitable siendo todo tan autobiográfico, pero ni así cuela. No tiene que ver nada con la película, que a mí me encantó. Pero es que nada que ver. Hay cosas que me han gustado: al principio, cuando dice que es la noche que se va a marchar de casa y describe como quiere a sus hijos (aunque reconoce que a veces también los mandaría a la mierda), y como a pesar de que los quiere se va a marchar de casa. Por un momento pensé que era una obra sobre el vacío de la existencia. Pero pronto me di cuenta que sólo era otra obra sobre la crisis de los 40.
December 23, 2015
i absolutely love this book! i get why everyone is frustrated with Jay as a character, he does have a hard to like personality. i struggled trying to understand things from his perspective at times, but realising that he is a human after all i could somewhat understand the reason behind some of the decisions he made even if i didn't share his opinions. on another note i loved the writing style and the brutally honest ways Kureishi chose to convey his messages and criticize the institution of marriage and love. To me whether Jay is a good person or not, a likeable relatable character or not is irrelevant because Kureishi succeeded in portraying a human being -flawed as he may be-in his novel and that was enough for me to appreciate him as an author and adore his art.
September 12, 2017
Leali e fedeli l’uno all’altra o sleali e infedeli a se stessi?
Un romanzo brevissimo, ma che mi ha sorpreso per l'intensità delle sensazioni trasmesse.
Un uomo di mezza età, sposato e con due figli una sera riflette. E' una sera speciale, ha deciso di andarsene, di lasciare la famiglia, con tutte le conseguenze che ciò comporta.
Ha vissuto tante situazioni scomode, ha sopportato responsabilità famigliari, sta vivendo una esistenza che gli pesa, che non gradisce più. Restare e fingere che tutto sia a posto o lasciare e riprovare a vivere?
"Ma perché le persone che sanno essere brave in famiglia devono provare un tale compiacimento e presumere che quello sia il solo modo di vivere, come se tutti gli altri fossero inadeguati?"
Forse è egoista, forse sta facendo una cosa disdicevole. Sicuramente soffre, per la decisione che sta prendendo, per la sofferenza che lascerà dietro di sé, per l'odio che genererà, per i dubbi, le incertezze, l'ansia, per la infelicità che sta procurando ai suoi figli. Ma certamente le sue riflessioni sono interessanti e si insinuano lentamente in noi, facendoci ragionare sul nostro presente, passato e futuro.
"Che cosa mi rende maggiormente perplesso? Il fatto che da dieci anni lotto con le stesse domande e ossessioni, e con le stesse monotone e inutili risposte, senza aver riscontrato un progresso nella comprensione né il minimo sollievo dal bisogno di comprendere, come un topo in una ruota. Come posso superare tutto ciò? Sto andandomene. Un fallimento è un varco, è una via di fuga"
Quanto siamo disposti a soffrire e a far soffrire per raggiungere la felicità?
"C’è un piccolo piacere nel matrimonio: comporta una resistenza considerevole, come fare un lavoro che si odia. Non puoi mollarlo e non puoi godertelo. Essere leali e fedeli l’uno all’altra. O sleali e infedeli a se stessi"
"Comunque io ho perso il gusto per la vita. Sono apatico, e per la maggior parte del tempo non voglio nulla, tranne capire perché qui dentro sia scomparsa la felicità. E così per tutti? E’ tutto ciò che si riesce a ottenere? E’ il massimo che si può avere?"
"So che l’amore è un lavoro da fare nell’ombra; devi sporcarti le mani. Se ti trattieni, non succede nulla di interessante. Nello stesso tempo devi trovare la giusta distanza tra le persone. Troppo vicino, e ti soffocano; troppo lontano, e ti abbandonano. Come fare a tenerle nel giusto rapporto?"
"Mentire protegge tutti noi; fa andare avanti le cose importanti. E' una gentilezza, mentire."
Inducendo sofferenza e infelicità si può essere sicuri di raggiungere la felicità?
July 16, 2019
The first and most alarming thing you find out about marriage, pretty much within days of your wedding, is that it is fraught with uncertainty. At first I thought this was just me, but then I began talking to other people and I realized that pretty much everyone experiences crippling doubt at one point or another about whether getting married was the right decision.
There was too much of me, I know that. We want love but we don’t want to lose ourselves.
Marriage is tough, that I knew. But that you could question yourself so viciously, or feel your emotions fluctuate so wildly out-of-control was an experience I hadn’t been adequately prepared for. You can try to explain what being so intricately bound to another person feels like, but words aren’t enough for living through the experience, and sometimes I felt adrift, faithless and unable to figure out what could make things right. Of course things always got back on track. And then we would crash and right ourselves again, over and over again until I finally got the hang of it. But it’s a process, and like all things which change you, it always lurked on the edge of complete and total destruction.
That’s why this book is so hard to take. Not because it’s complex and hard hitting, but because it focuses solely on the really, really ugly portions of a relationship. Of course, any relationship where you spend extended time with each other will eventually reveal its underbelly, full of horribleness and spite, but with love you cover it up and bandage it and learn to move on. This book, unfortunately, focuses only on the crueler aspects of marriage, on the night on which our protagonist, a middle aged man named Jay, decides to leave his wife and two sons behind.
“The house is full of poison. Susan wants me to be kind. I can’t be kind. We can do nothing for one another. It is a fact. I have decided to leave.”
I think the truth is that reading this book made me miserable, and made my husband exasperated. “Why are you reading it if it’s getting you down?” he kept asking, but I was determined to struggle through, because leaving books half-read feels like some sort of personal failure I know I should learn to get over. In the end, what helped was the fact that the book itself was so abominable. Absolutely no plot, completely pointless characters, and I didn’t care much for the conversations either. And of course, a ridiculously whiny, ultimately unlikable protagonist.
This, then, could be our last evening as an innocent, complete, ideal family; my last night with a woman I have known for ten years, a woman I know almost everything about, and want no more of.
What ultimately led to this book’s downfall for me was the fact that our narrator was, frankly, not a very good person. And not a bad person in any interesting terms (like the female lead in Gone Girl or in Gone with the Wind or any other famous, compelling novel I can name with unlikeable main characters), but rather just bland, petty and mean and not really worth pages and pages of rumination.
It is unhappiness and the wound that compels me. Then I can understand and be of use. An atmosphere of generalized depression and mid-temperature gloom makes me feel at home.
Since the book tracks the events of a single night, interspersed with Jay’s thoughts about his past and fears for the present, we are forced to spend way too much time in close proximity with him. This is unfortunate because not only is Jay a pointless person, he also has a weird, unhealthy relationship with sex. I had the exact same problem with Kureishi’s hero in Something to tell you, which also incidentally featured a middle aged man hitting a midlife crisis. In this book, Jay’s constant and lecherous examination of the topic, the objectification of women’s bodies, and the days spent lunching at spots where our hero knows ‘fashionable young women in close-fitting items’ will be present all serve to create an uncomfortable desire to distance yourself from this character.
From the beginning, starting with the girls at school, and the teachers in particular, I have looked at women in shops, on the street, in the bus, at parties, and wondered what it would be like to be with them, and what pleasure we might kindle.
There were some points in the novel, admittedly, where I almost thought it would redeem itself and shine some much-needed light on the complexities of marriage, but Kureishi ruins the perfect set-up by never managing to really colour the relationship as that between two people. Instead, what you do have is a very one-sided, close-minded portrait of the marriage from the point of view of a bitter, bored old man. For some, such a fictional world might make for interesting reading, but if an author chooses to write solely from the perspective of a horrible character without managing to make me care about them, then for me the narrative is a complete failure.
I have been trying to convince myself that leaving someone isn’t the worst thing you can do to them. Sombre it may be, but it doesn’t have to be a tragedy. If you never left anything or anyone there would be no room for the new.
The story does the same thing with its smart writing, falling over from the just-perfect to the overly decorative. At the beginning, Kureishi’s words feel incisive and controlled, an experienced author holding forth on life’s uncertainties and the pitfalls of growing older. Pretty soon though, it becomes less Pulitzer-prize-worthy, and more Hallmark quotes. I compared the first book I read by Kureishi to the atrocity that was Home Boy by Naqvi, my standard for all crappy Pakistani writing that’s well known. This book maintains the status quo, by staying exactly as bad as the first book.
It is easy to kill oneself off without dying. Unfortunately, to get to the future one has to live through the present.
Just like Home Boy, I continued to not care for our main character pretty much from the beginning to the end. Even spending pages and pages of reflection with him didn’t endear me to his frustrations. Maybe if, instead of talking about his love affair or his drug taking or his boredom, he had focused a bit more on his past with Susan, tried to figure out where they had fallen apart, there might have been something worth salvaging. As it is, he spends barely one sentence trying to figure out whether he might actually be to blame for their miserable existence, and then promptly forgets all about his momentary self-flagellation.
Have I tried hard enough? Why should I imagine that I am easy to get along with? Perhaps, all this time, she has been making a heroic effort to get along with a morose, over-sensitive, self-absorbed fool.
In any divorce, it is obvious that both the parties involved must have their own grievances, and their own versions of events. Each wife and husband about to be separated must believe that they are in the right, and that the other person is not only horrible enough to be blamed for the ensuing heartbreak, but also horrible enough to consider leaving. Still, the kind of complexity I expected from a story that focuses so solely on a marriage falling apart never manages to describe Susan, the left-behind wife, as a complete person. Instead, what we are left with are Jay’s bitter thoughts and creepy behaviour and adultery and misogyny and pretty much all around unpleasantness.
It is the men who must go. They are blamed for it, as I will be.
As a rule, a man who complains about being blamed for ending a relationship, when he is in fact the one walking away, is a man not worth spending any time or brain cells upon. And the final nail in the coffin came upon the realization that the author, father of two boys and divorced from a wife with the exact same job as the fictional wife’s, might have written this book more to air dirty laundry and less as a sort of satisfying escapism for the reader. He could have made his protagonist father to a little girl, if he so desperately wanted to treat divorce as a separation from his children. He could have made an ambitious wife with literally any other job, but sticking so closely to his own life story feels disrespectful at best and a gross invasion of his family’s privacy at the worst.
All in all, it was not a pleasant reading experience, and I have no wish to ever repeat it again. One extra star for the accidental smart observation, but mostly I’d say Hanif Kureishi hasn’t managed to write anything yet that I’d consider worth reading. Not recommended.
ORIGINAL REVIEW:
Ugh, I have such a complicated relationship with this title. How the hell am I going to review it?
***
I review Pakistani Fiction, and talk about Pakistani fiction, and want to talk to people who like to talk about fiction (Pakistani and otherwise, take your pick.) To read more reviews or just contact me so you can talk about books, check out my Blog or follow me on Twitter!
There was too much of me, I know that. We want love but we don’t want to lose ourselves.
Marriage is tough, that I knew. But that you could question yourself so viciously, or feel your emotions fluctuate so wildly out-of-control was an experience I hadn’t been adequately prepared for. You can try to explain what being so intricately bound to another person feels like, but words aren’t enough for living through the experience, and sometimes I felt adrift, faithless and unable to figure out what could make things right. Of course things always got back on track. And then we would crash and right ourselves again, over and over again until I finally got the hang of it. But it’s a process, and like all things which change you, it always lurked on the edge of complete and total destruction.
That’s why this book is so hard to take. Not because it’s complex and hard hitting, but because it focuses solely on the really, really ugly portions of a relationship. Of course, any relationship where you spend extended time with each other will eventually reveal its underbelly, full of horribleness and spite, but with love you cover it up and bandage it and learn to move on. This book, unfortunately, focuses only on the crueler aspects of marriage, on the night on which our protagonist, a middle aged man named Jay, decides to leave his wife and two sons behind.
“The house is full of poison. Susan wants me to be kind. I can’t be kind. We can do nothing for one another. It is a fact. I have decided to leave.”
I think the truth is that reading this book made me miserable, and made my husband exasperated. “Why are you reading it if it’s getting you down?” he kept asking, but I was determined to struggle through, because leaving books half-read feels like some sort of personal failure I know I should learn to get over. In the end, what helped was the fact that the book itself was so abominable. Absolutely no plot, completely pointless characters, and I didn’t care much for the conversations either. And of course, a ridiculously whiny, ultimately unlikable protagonist.
This, then, could be our last evening as an innocent, complete, ideal family; my last night with a woman I have known for ten years, a woman I know almost everything about, and want no more of.
What ultimately led to this book’s downfall for me was the fact that our narrator was, frankly, not a very good person. And not a bad person in any interesting terms (like the female lead in Gone Girl or in Gone with the Wind or any other famous, compelling novel I can name with unlikeable main characters), but rather just bland, petty and mean and not really worth pages and pages of rumination.
It is unhappiness and the wound that compels me. Then I can understand and be of use. An atmosphere of generalized depression and mid-temperature gloom makes me feel at home.
Since the book tracks the events of a single night, interspersed with Jay’s thoughts about his past and fears for the present, we are forced to spend way too much time in close proximity with him. This is unfortunate because not only is Jay a pointless person, he also has a weird, unhealthy relationship with sex. I had the exact same problem with Kureishi’s hero in Something to tell you, which also incidentally featured a middle aged man hitting a midlife crisis. In this book, Jay’s constant and lecherous examination of the topic, the objectification of women’s bodies, and the days spent lunching at spots where our hero knows ‘fashionable young women in close-fitting items’ will be present all serve to create an uncomfortable desire to distance yourself from this character.
From the beginning, starting with the girls at school, and the teachers in particular, I have looked at women in shops, on the street, in the bus, at parties, and wondered what it would be like to be with them, and what pleasure we might kindle.
There were some points in the novel, admittedly, where I almost thought it would redeem itself and shine some much-needed light on the complexities of marriage, but Kureishi ruins the perfect set-up by never managing to really colour the relationship as that between two people. Instead, what you do have is a very one-sided, close-minded portrait of the marriage from the point of view of a bitter, bored old man. For some, such a fictional world might make for interesting reading, but if an author chooses to write solely from the perspective of a horrible character without managing to make me care about them, then for me the narrative is a complete failure.
I have been trying to convince myself that leaving someone isn’t the worst thing you can do to them. Sombre it may be, but it doesn’t have to be a tragedy. If you never left anything or anyone there would be no room for the new.
The story does the same thing with its smart writing, falling over from the just-perfect to the overly decorative. At the beginning, Kureishi’s words feel incisive and controlled, an experienced author holding forth on life’s uncertainties and the pitfalls of growing older. Pretty soon though, it becomes less Pulitzer-prize-worthy, and more Hallmark quotes. I compared the first book I read by Kureishi to the atrocity that was Home Boy by Naqvi, my standard for all crappy Pakistani writing that’s well known. This book maintains the status quo, by staying exactly as bad as the first book.
It is easy to kill oneself off without dying. Unfortunately, to get to the future one has to live through the present.
Just like Home Boy, I continued to not care for our main character pretty much from the beginning to the end. Even spending pages and pages of reflection with him didn’t endear me to his frustrations. Maybe if, instead of talking about his love affair or his drug taking or his boredom, he had focused a bit more on his past with Susan, tried to figure out where they had fallen apart, there might have been something worth salvaging. As it is, he spends barely one sentence trying to figure out whether he might actually be to blame for their miserable existence, and then promptly forgets all about his momentary self-flagellation.
Have I tried hard enough? Why should I imagine that I am easy to get along with? Perhaps, all this time, she has been making a heroic effort to get along with a morose, over-sensitive, self-absorbed fool.
In any divorce, it is obvious that both the parties involved must have their own grievances, and their own versions of events. Each wife and husband about to be separated must believe that they are in the right, and that the other person is not only horrible enough to be blamed for the ensuing heartbreak, but also horrible enough to consider leaving. Still, the kind of complexity I expected from a story that focuses so solely on a marriage falling apart never manages to describe Susan, the left-behind wife, as a complete person. Instead, what we are left with are Jay’s bitter thoughts and creepy behaviour and adultery and misogyny and pretty much all around unpleasantness.
It is the men who must go. They are blamed for it, as I will be.
As a rule, a man who complains about being blamed for ending a relationship, when he is in fact the one walking away, is a man not worth spending any time or brain cells upon. And the final nail in the coffin came upon the realization that the author, father of two boys and divorced from a wife with the exact same job as the fictional wife’s, might have written this book more to air dirty laundry and less as a sort of satisfying escapism for the reader. He could have made his protagonist father to a little girl, if he so desperately wanted to treat divorce as a separation from his children. He could have made an ambitious wife with literally any other job, but sticking so closely to his own life story feels disrespectful at best and a gross invasion of his family’s privacy at the worst.
All in all, it was not a pleasant reading experience, and I have no wish to ever repeat it again. One extra star for the accidental smart observation, but mostly I’d say Hanif Kureishi hasn’t managed to write anything yet that I’d consider worth reading. Not recommended.
ORIGINAL REVIEW:
Ugh, I have such a complicated relationship with this title. How the hell am I going to review it?
***
I review Pakistani Fiction, and talk about Pakistani fiction, and want to talk to people who like to talk about fiction (Pakistani and otherwise, take your pick.) To read more reviews or just contact me so you can talk about books, check out my Blog or follow me on Twitter!
March 16, 2013
لماذا يتزوج الرجل من امراة لا يحبها وينجب منهااطفال؟
لماذا يتزوج الرجل متعدد العلاقات؟
هذا هو السؤال الذى تبادر الى ذهنى وانا اقرا هذه الرواية
قريشى يصور سوزان بطلة الرواية كوحش متبلد المشاعر باردة فاقدة للاحاسيس
ويعترف انه لم يحبها ولكنه تزوجها
"
لم تكن من النوع الذى يثير اعجابى لكنى كنت واثقا من ان ثمة شيئا فيها يدخل المتعة الى نفسى كنت اود ان اتوقف عن رؤيتها لبضعة اشهر كى انساها ربما يمكننى عندها ان ارى كيف تبدو عن بعد
"
ويطلب منك ان تتعاطف مع ماساته وهذا ما لم يحدث
كيف يمكن ان يكون رجل يترك زوجته وطفليه
ساعيا لعلاقة مع فتاة اخرى
ضحية؟
لم يفرض عليه احد هذا الاختيار
علاقته مع طفليه ايضا شاذة
وتدل على عقلية مريضة وانسان غير سوى
"
كنت اثناء ذلك اقرا عدة كتب عن تربية الاطفال غالبا فى الساعات الاولى وعلى اصابعى غائط او قىء وفى احدى المرات القيت به فوق مهده واصيب راسه
كنت اضع براندى فى حليبه كنت اركله بقوة فوق حفاضته حتى قبل ان يتمكن من المشى كيف يمكن للاطفال ان يجعلونا نشعر بالعجز الكامل
"
الرواية لم ترق لى
اراها مملة و مستفزة
بعيدا عن الرواية
ما هى معايير
اختيار الشريك والارتباط به
ام انه ليس هناك معايير من الاساس
قد تكون قصة حب فاشلة لم تكتمل بالزواج
تدفع الرجل ان
يترك من احب
فهو
لن يعيش حياة سعيدة في ظل معارضة اهله
الرجل الشرقي غالبا ما يتزوج من امراة لا يحبها
لماذا؟
يترك حبه
نهبا للذكريات
ويسعى واهما باحثا عن
السعادة بالزواج التقليدي
مقولة
ان الحب بييجى بعد الجواز و العشره
هى سبب فشل كثير من العلاقات
اما ما هو غير قابل للتصديق
ولكنه حقيقى
ان يرتبط الرجل بفتاة لا يحبها
فالرجل هو من يختار من يريد الارتباط بها وهو يستطيع الموافقه والرفض فلماذا يقدم بكامل قواه العقلية على ان يظلم فتاة ذنبها الوحيد هو انها صدقت كذبه عن مدى حبه لها
افة من افات
مجتمعاتنا المتخلفه
الكذب والخداع
تتعرض المرأة للظلم
باستمرار
سواء بان
يخونها الرجل او ان يتزوج بامراة اخرى
وهى دائما وابدا متهمة بالتقصير
وحتى لو لم تقصر هناك مسوغ دينى لكل
اذى اوضرر يلحقه الرجل بالمراة
والرد الطبيعى
هو
"
بس الإسلام ، حلل للرجل أربعة
"
هل فرض الاسلام على الرجل ان يتزوج باربعة
ام اعطاه هذا الحق فى صورة رخصة
وشدد على انه لن يعدل
فلماذا تشويه الدين؟
عندما سالتنى احدى صديقاتى لماذا تركها زوجها ليتزوج اخرى اجبتها
بان من
يعطي الحب لمن لايستحق لا ينتظر فى المقابل الا الغدر
بعض الخواطر بالعامية
لو افترضنا جدلا قياسا على الرواية
ان واحدة اجوزت واحد ما بتحبوش
وبعدين قابلت حد تانى وحبته وطلبت من جوزها انه يطلقها
ايه الى هيحصل
لو جوزها طلقها ومموتهاش
هيقولها انها قليلة الادب ومش متربية
حتى لو
ما فيش اى حاجة حصلت مجرد انها مش قادرة
تخون جوزها بمشاعرها
ولو افترضنا ان الى هى حبته
كان بيحبها
تفتكروا هيجوزها
لا طبعا هيقولها انتى خاينة
وذى ما سيبتى جوزك
هتسيبينى
لكن لو الموقف معكوس
طبعا هو راجل يعنى يعمل الى هو عايزه
والزوجة الجديدة
هتتفنن ازاى ما تقصرش ذى القديمة ما قصرت وعمرها ما هتشوفه خاين للعشرة
صح؟
لما تسال الولاد ليه سيبت خطيبتك؟
واحد يقول انا سيبتها لان على طول بتقول حاضر ونعم وبتسمع كلامى فى كل حاجة
ما لهاش شخصية
التانى يقول دى فاكره نفسها ند ليا
والبنات متلطمة بينهم
ليه البنت ما تبطلش تفكر فى الجواز خالص
وما تعتبروش هدفها فى الحياة
ليه ما بتحترمش نفسها وما ترضاش باى اهانة سواء فى الخطوبة او الجواز؟
معظم الولاد الى هى بتبصلهم على انهم الهة وبتموت نفسها عشان ترضيهم شوية عيال هايفة
مامته بتجره من ودانه وتقوله انت كبرت يا ابنى ولازم نجوزك
فتروح هى تختار البنت وتجوزهاله ورجلة فوق رقبته
ليه؟
هو بيوافق ما عرفش
ممكن تكون سلطة راس المال الى عند الاهل
ممكن هو متعود انه لازم تكون فى واحدة تانية بدل ماما تعمله السندوتشات
فماما اكيد ادرى بمصلحته
ازاى واحد تافه ذى دا ولسه ما اتفطمش
يخلى بنت تلف حوالين نفسها
وتدخل على منتديات
ازاى تخلى جوزك يحبك
"
انشاله عنه ما حبك يا شيخة"
او ازاى
تكونى حلوة فى عين جوزك بردو
فعلا؟
طب ما تكونى حلوة لنفسك
والمنتديات الى هتفرقع من الوصفات يا ريت البنات
تبطل تدور فى فلك راجل
هى اهم من كدا بكتير
ربنا والله ما خلقش الستات عشان يعبدوا الرجالة
November 23, 2021
بسیار تاثیرگذار و درگیر کننده بود.
رمان کوتاه حنیف قریشی حرفهایی میزند که مطمئنا" خیلی ها در خفا با خود میزنند ولی شهامت ابرازش را ندارند.
رمان کوتاه حنیف قریشی حرفهایی میزند که مطمئنا" خیلی ها در خفا با خود میزنند ولی شهامت ابرازش را ندارند.
March 5, 2022
Ništa nije fascinantno kao ljubav, veli Kureiši. Tačnije, ništa nažalost nije tako fascinantno kao ljubav. Mržnja nije njen kraj, već, neretko, samo drugi oblik.
Dodaje Kureiši i da je povređivanje nekoga, zapravo, akt nehotične intimnosti, kao i da svaki dan treba ima makar jednu, sitnu prevaru. Izdaje nam, paradoksalno, omogućavaju preživljavanje, obećavajući uvek bolje stanje od onoga u kome jesmo. Čak i kada nam je sve savršeno, uvek postoji prostor za „nešto još”, raj raja. Zato nam nikad ne može biti potaman, a vernost je istrajavanje u zaljubljenosti u ideju vernosti, pokušaj da se u svetu ne pokrade i ne uništi sve što je vredno.
E, vidite, ova knjiga je o tome. O ljubavima i ostalim nesporazumima, borbi protiv otupelosti kroz koju se samo još više otupljuje. Životni odabiri su često pakt sa očekivanjima okoline, čak i onda kad deluje da su sasvim buntovni. Misleći da smo izuzeci, da smo iznad situacije u kojoj smo, ponavljamo iste greške. I koliko god želeo da pokažem da mi je drago, a nije da nije, neretko me stuži kad vidim kako su moji poznanici „skockali” svoje živote. Sve je to tempirano, po receptu – ko, kada, kako i s kim. Iste matrice. A onda, pre ili kasnije, počinje da kulja nezadovoljstvo i da se nečiji zajednički život pretvara u mučnu samoparodiju, gde ljudi često ostaju zajedno samo jer ne znaju kako bi se sami snašli. Kad deca dođu, postaje sve još složenije, kao da već nije bilo. I tu je Kureiši ubo: uloge oca, ljubavnika i supružnika su raznostrane, mada se ne čini da bi to trebalo da bude tako. Imajući u vidu kako je prikazan odnos između generacija u romanu, nameće se pitanje uporišta institucije porodice u savremenosti. Tako je jedan od presudnih momenata za razvoj protagoniste strah koji je osećao u detinjstvu – strah i ogroman pritisak, koji se vremenom preobrazio u frustraciju, a frustracija je biće sa hiljadu lica. Jukstapozicija detinjstava protagoniste i njegove dece pokazuje ne samo različiti pristup vaspitanju, već i to kako se ideja o porodičnosti i ušuškanosti menja. (Pre)zreli liberalni kapitalizam nametnuo je diktat udobnosti, gde je sreća pojedinca apsolutni prioritet. Previše sam svojeglav da ne bih rekao da mi individualizam nije blizak, ali stalno se previđa da fokus na slobodi pojedinca podrazumeva ogroman teret odgovornosti. Individualizam bez odgovornosti je samo grabež i otimačina, trka pacova. Imajući u vidu savremena politička kretanja, stiče se utisak da ljudi i to posebno mlađi ljudi žele da žive u društvima gde će vladar kao domaćin i očinska figura, znati da tresne o sto i da, umesto svoje dece, vodi računa o svim njihovim brigama. To čini ne samo pupeća tiranija izbora, već i nespremnost da ljudi preuzmu uloge koje, hteli ne hteli, sobom nose. Imajući to u vidu, još jednom se pokazuje kako pisanje o seksu najčešće nije razodevanje intime, koliko mapiranje psihološko-društvenih struktura.
Na polici Kureiši bi se sjano smestio uz Filipa Rota, Uelbeka, Begbedea.
Dodaje Kureiši i da je povređivanje nekoga, zapravo, akt nehotične intimnosti, kao i da svaki dan treba ima makar jednu, sitnu prevaru. Izdaje nam, paradoksalno, omogućavaju preživljavanje, obećavajući uvek bolje stanje od onoga u kome jesmo. Čak i kada nam je sve savršeno, uvek postoji prostor za „nešto još”, raj raja. Zato nam nikad ne može biti potaman, a vernost je istrajavanje u zaljubljenosti u ideju vernosti, pokušaj da se u svetu ne pokrade i ne uništi sve što je vredno.
E, vidite, ova knjiga je o tome. O ljubavima i ostalim nesporazumima, borbi protiv otupelosti kroz koju se samo još više otupljuje. Životni odabiri su često pakt sa očekivanjima okoline, čak i onda kad deluje da su sasvim buntovni. Misleći da smo izuzeci, da smo iznad situacije u kojoj smo, ponavljamo iste greške. I koliko god želeo da pokažem da mi je drago, a nije da nije, neretko me stuži kad vidim kako su moji poznanici „skockali” svoje živote. Sve je to tempirano, po receptu – ko, kada, kako i s kim. Iste matrice. A onda, pre ili kasnije, počinje da kulja nezadovoljstvo i da se nečiji zajednički život pretvara u mučnu samoparodiju, gde ljudi često ostaju zajedno samo jer ne znaju kako bi se sami snašli. Kad deca dođu, postaje sve još složenije, kao da već nije bilo. I tu je Kureiši ubo: uloge oca, ljubavnika i supružnika su raznostrane, mada se ne čini da bi to trebalo da bude tako. Imajući u vidu kako je prikazan odnos između generacija u romanu, nameće se pitanje uporišta institucije porodice u savremenosti. Tako je jedan od presudnih momenata za razvoj protagoniste strah koji je osećao u detinjstvu – strah i ogroman pritisak, koji se vremenom preobrazio u frustraciju, a frustracija je biće sa hiljadu lica. Jukstapozicija detinjstava protagoniste i njegove dece pokazuje ne samo različiti pristup vaspitanju, već i to kako se ideja o porodičnosti i ušuškanosti menja. (Pre)zreli liberalni kapitalizam nametnuo je diktat udobnosti, gde je sreća pojedinca apsolutni prioritet. Previše sam svojeglav da ne bih rekao da mi individualizam nije blizak, ali stalno se previđa da fokus na slobodi pojedinca podrazumeva ogroman teret odgovornosti. Individualizam bez odgovornosti je samo grabež i otimačina, trka pacova. Imajući u vidu savremena politička kretanja, stiče se utisak da ljudi i to posebno mlađi ljudi žele da žive u društvima gde će vladar kao domaćin i očinska figura, znati da tresne o sto i da, umesto svoje dece, vodi računa o svim njihovim brigama. To čini ne samo pupeća tiranija izbora, već i nespremnost da ljudi preuzmu uloge koje, hteli ne hteli, sobom nose. Imajući to u vidu, još jednom se pokazuje kako pisanje o seksu najčešće nije razodevanje intime, koliko mapiranje psihološko-društvenih struktura.
Na polici Kureiši bi se sjano smestio uz Filipa Rota, Uelbeka, Begbedea.
August 8, 2015
A Joke Followed by an Intimacy
After reading Milan Kundera's "The Joke", I returned it to the shelf, and looked for something short to read next. Happily, I found it next to my Kunderas. I thought "Intimacy" might continue some of the themes about relationships that had interested me in "The Joke".
After finishing it, I discovered a 2001 interview with Kureishi in the Guardian in which he revealed that he had been reading "The Joke" that very morning.
In some ways, Kureishi was to the 90's what Kundera was to the 80's. He seemed to define the Zeitgeist. At least if you were male! He had a David Bowie-like rock star persona. He could get away with almost anything.
"All Couples Have Troubles"
I read "Intimacy" in the space of a day, well less actually, more like the time it took the Australian cricket team to knock out their first innings in the Ashes test in Nottingham. It's a novella rather than a novel. My copy was 150 pages long, but broadly spaced. No sooner had I started it than it was over.
At one level, it's an indulgent rant. It's written in the first person. The narrator (Jay) is a narcissistic Oscar-nominated scriptwriter, who's about to leave his family the next day. Inevitably, it's difficult to dissociate Jay from the author. If it's difficult now, it was certainly a lot harder when the book was first published. It was clear to all that the novel was based on Kureishi's relationship and break up with his partner and mother of their two children, Tracey Scoffield.
"Some People Read Books Endlessly"
So what can you say almost 20 years later?
Kureishi writes with amazing precision about relationships from a male's perspective. You could be quite charmed listening to Jay, thinking he had a special sensitivity. However, after a while, you realise that his precision is almost surgical, and that he wields a scalpel capable of making a neat, clean cut in human flesh.
Jay studied Plato, Descartes, Hume, Kant, Marx, Freud, Sartre, Camus, Ionesco, Beckett and "other poets of solitude and dread". His interests bridge philosophy and psychology. However, all this study fuels his belief that he knows people and relationships better than anyone else. Well, he knows what's good for him. And this is what he imposes on those around him.
"Not Every Match Burns Bright"
Beneath the hipster facade is a viciousness, not unrelated to his taste in music:
"A lot of punk. It was the hatred, I think, that appealed."
Contrast this with his partner:
"Susan, who is four years younger than me, thinks we live in a selfish age. She talks of a Thatcherism of the soul that imagines that people are not dependent on one another...Fulfilment, self-expression and 'creativity' are the only values."
In other words, creativity had given some people a way out of conformist, pre-60's nine-to-fiveism, but it retained the egotism of the previous more material, more analogue, less digital version of capitalism.
"Some Couples Live in Harmony, Some Do Not"
Jay also takes a pot shot at women's politics:
"She is of a disapproving generation of women. She thinks she's a feminist but she's just bad-tempered."
It's as if Jay isn't a spoiled prat, he's just a very naughty boy:
"Susan would say that we require other social forms. What are they? Probably the unpleasant ones: duty, sacrifice, obligation to others, self-discipline."
These are Susan's words. Perhaps, some of us will recoil from what they imply? But, really, aren't they the sort of thing you say when you start to think in terms of needs other than just your own: the needs of a couple, the needs of a family, the needs of a peer group, the needs of a community, the needs of a social and political movement?
From the perspective of the Left, Jay confesses, "We were the kind of people who held the Labour Party back."
It's as if Jay's kind of egocentricity tends to subvert any collective, whether of two or two billion.
"You My Dear Don't Have Any Manners"
Jay loves their two boys, aged five and three, he says he'll be sad to leave them (really!), but they're not enough to commit him to any sort of family unit, not enough to make an effort. He can't will himself into the relationship: "You cannot will love, but only ask why you have put it aside for the time being."
He pretends that he can turn off his love for his children, and that they will be there for him when he's ready to revive a relationship with them, when they are more mature and can understand his needs.
He says something that many of us who have been in a relationship that didn't last can understand:
"I didn't want to love Susan, but for some reason didn't want the clarity of that fact to devastate us both."
Yet, you have to wonder whether the failed lover inside the author does want the public, written record of this fact to devastate: "It is a lovely day for leaving." How could it not devastate somebody?
"Still, It's Sad to See Everything in Tatters"
This is the true significance of the novel, as a work of fiction, but also as an implied comment on an actual relationship. The book might be named after intimacy, but it doesn't sing its praises. Instead, it reveals intimate details in order to expose and compromise them, in order to snuff out whatever flaming beauty was ever there. It's about the longing for intimacy and love, and how angry we can be when they're snuffed out, lost, rejected, left. Intimacy and love can simply dissipate before our very eyes. With no effort at all. Which is often the cause.
I couldn't believe some of the things Jay said, they were so clinically brutal. You could see them coming, and you'd wonder whether he'd restrain himself, but in the end I was glad that they weren't left unsaid. We wouldn't know the truth, otherwise.
The thing is, Kureishi does it accurately enough to condemn the 1990's era male (who hasn't changed that much) out of his own mouth. For all the aspersions he casts on Susan, it's her words that have best stood the test of time. She anticipated an era when, after the indulgences of the three decades that followed the 60's, we eventually had to grow up. They are, of course, words that Kureishi wrote, or at least selected and recorded from his real life experience. If it was the latter, then at least he had enough acumen to know what words expressed Susan's truth. And therefore ours.
SOUNDTRACK:
Marianne Faithfull - "Why'd Ya Do It?"
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3mvAM...
Lou Reed - "Tatters"
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3ZYwe...
Lou Reed - "Tatters" [Live at Montreux on July 12, 2000]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zUH8V...
After reading Milan Kundera's "The Joke", I returned it to the shelf, and looked for something short to read next. Happily, I found it next to my Kunderas. I thought "Intimacy" might continue some of the themes about relationships that had interested me in "The Joke".
After finishing it, I discovered a 2001 interview with Kureishi in the Guardian in which he revealed that he had been reading "The Joke" that very morning.
In some ways, Kureishi was to the 90's what Kundera was to the 80's. He seemed to define the Zeitgeist. At least if you were male! He had a David Bowie-like rock star persona. He could get away with almost anything.
"All Couples Have Troubles"
I read "Intimacy" in the space of a day, well less actually, more like the time it took the Australian cricket team to knock out their first innings in the Ashes test in Nottingham. It's a novella rather than a novel. My copy was 150 pages long, but broadly spaced. No sooner had I started it than it was over.
At one level, it's an indulgent rant. It's written in the first person. The narrator (Jay) is a narcissistic Oscar-nominated scriptwriter, who's about to leave his family the next day. Inevitably, it's difficult to dissociate Jay from the author. If it's difficult now, it was certainly a lot harder when the book was first published. It was clear to all that the novel was based on Kureishi's relationship and break up with his partner and mother of their two children, Tracey Scoffield.
"Some People Read Books Endlessly"
So what can you say almost 20 years later?
Kureishi writes with amazing precision about relationships from a male's perspective. You could be quite charmed listening to Jay, thinking he had a special sensitivity. However, after a while, you realise that his precision is almost surgical, and that he wields a scalpel capable of making a neat, clean cut in human flesh.
Jay studied Plato, Descartes, Hume, Kant, Marx, Freud, Sartre, Camus, Ionesco, Beckett and "other poets of solitude and dread". His interests bridge philosophy and psychology. However, all this study fuels his belief that he knows people and relationships better than anyone else. Well, he knows what's good for him. And this is what he imposes on those around him.
"Not Every Match Burns Bright"
Beneath the hipster facade is a viciousness, not unrelated to his taste in music:
"A lot of punk. It was the hatred, I think, that appealed."
Contrast this with his partner:
"Susan, who is four years younger than me, thinks we live in a selfish age. She talks of a Thatcherism of the soul that imagines that people are not dependent on one another...Fulfilment, self-expression and 'creativity' are the only values."
In other words, creativity had given some people a way out of conformist, pre-60's nine-to-fiveism, but it retained the egotism of the previous more material, more analogue, less digital version of capitalism.
"Some Couples Live in Harmony, Some Do Not"
Jay also takes a pot shot at women's politics:
"She is of a disapproving generation of women. She thinks she's a feminist but she's just bad-tempered."
It's as if Jay isn't a spoiled prat, he's just a very naughty boy:
"Susan would say that we require other social forms. What are they? Probably the unpleasant ones: duty, sacrifice, obligation to others, self-discipline."
These are Susan's words. Perhaps, some of us will recoil from what they imply? But, really, aren't they the sort of thing you say when you start to think in terms of needs other than just your own: the needs of a couple, the needs of a family, the needs of a peer group, the needs of a community, the needs of a social and political movement?
From the perspective of the Left, Jay confesses, "We were the kind of people who held the Labour Party back."
It's as if Jay's kind of egocentricity tends to subvert any collective, whether of two or two billion.
"You My Dear Don't Have Any Manners"
Jay loves their two boys, aged five and three, he says he'll be sad to leave them (really!), but they're not enough to commit him to any sort of family unit, not enough to make an effort. He can't will himself into the relationship: "You cannot will love, but only ask why you have put it aside for the time being."
He pretends that he can turn off his love for his children, and that they will be there for him when he's ready to revive a relationship with them, when they are more mature and can understand his needs.
He says something that many of us who have been in a relationship that didn't last can understand:
"I didn't want to love Susan, but for some reason didn't want the clarity of that fact to devastate us both."
Yet, you have to wonder whether the failed lover inside the author does want the public, written record of this fact to devastate: "It is a lovely day for leaving." How could it not devastate somebody?
"Still, It's Sad to See Everything in Tatters"
This is the true significance of the novel, as a work of fiction, but also as an implied comment on an actual relationship. The book might be named after intimacy, but it doesn't sing its praises. Instead, it reveals intimate details in order to expose and compromise them, in order to snuff out whatever flaming beauty was ever there. It's about the longing for intimacy and love, and how angry we can be when they're snuffed out, lost, rejected, left. Intimacy and love can simply dissipate before our very eyes. With no effort at all. Which is often the cause.
I couldn't believe some of the things Jay said, they were so clinically brutal. You could see them coming, and you'd wonder whether he'd restrain himself, but in the end I was glad that they weren't left unsaid. We wouldn't know the truth, otherwise.
The thing is, Kureishi does it accurately enough to condemn the 1990's era male (who hasn't changed that much) out of his own mouth. For all the aspersions he casts on Susan, it's her words that have best stood the test of time. She anticipated an era when, after the indulgences of the three decades that followed the 60's, we eventually had to grow up. They are, of course, words that Kureishi wrote, or at least selected and recorded from his real life experience. If it was the latter, then at least he had enough acumen to know what words expressed Susan's truth. And therefore ours.
SOUNDTRACK:
Marianne Faithfull - "Why'd Ya Do It?"
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3mvAM...
Lou Reed - "Tatters"
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3ZYwe...
Lou Reed - "Tatters" [Live at Montreux on July 12, 2000]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zUH8V...
Read
August 8, 2011After reading loads of reviews, what amazes me is that apparently not all women take this self-indulgent crap as a personal affront. Yes, Kureishi is a gifted writer. Okay, his take on the excruciating ruminations of a husband plotting to leave his family is 100% believable. But I can't get past my desire to castrate the narcissistic bastard. It must have been fun to write--a bit like writing from the perspective of a mafia hit man--without any compulsion to tie together the the disparate aspects of character (the loving father who abandons his children). Intimacy is such a clever title, because it's what Jay (the bastard) wants (from his young, life-affirming lover) and also what he finds most revolting and smothering (in his marriage). I think it's a brilliant book and I hated it.
February 5, 2023
**2.5 stars**
It is a perfect example of very poignant storytelling that aims at being meditative but falls short due to meandering. Intimacy was adapted into a 2001 movie starring Mark Rylance, which shares a similar melancholic, desolate tonality, which I have seen and thought to be the story of this novel. However, it feels like the movie is a sequel to the book. The plot concerns the thought process of an author, who is predictably going through a midlife crisis on the eve of his leaving his 10-year-old family.
So, of course, this novel is not at all for everyone. However, I did not find it as impactful as I would have liked because the narrative is morbidly sluggish. That would not have been a problem if the author ventured deeper into the narrator's brain. But that also seems unjust to ask of him because, well, it is all about the day before he leaves his wife and children. And a man could not possibly feel anything more than 250 pages within that time because (if we quote our favourite Ronald Weasley) "he will explode" if he does so.
My only wish is that I never become like this guy. This novel demands appreciation for being such a microscopic introspective on a relatable character, and I can not seriously find any other fault with it. So I don't understand why I am so harsh with the rating?
Feeling very confused, to be honest. Probably this is just the wrong book at the wrong time.
It is a perfect example of very poignant storytelling that aims at being meditative but falls short due to meandering. Intimacy was adapted into a 2001 movie starring Mark Rylance, which shares a similar melancholic, desolate tonality, which I have seen and thought to be the story of this novel. However, it feels like the movie is a sequel to the book. The plot concerns the thought process of an author, who is predictably going through a midlife crisis on the eve of his leaving his 10-year-old family.
So, of course, this novel is not at all for everyone. However, I did not find it as impactful as I would have liked because the narrative is morbidly sluggish. That would not have been a problem if the author ventured deeper into the narrator's brain. But that also seems unjust to ask of him because, well, it is all about the day before he leaves his wife and children. And a man could not possibly feel anything more than 250 pages within that time because (if we quote our favourite Ronald Weasley) "he will explode" if he does so.
My only wish is that I never become like this guy. This novel demands appreciation for being such a microscopic introspective on a relatable character, and I can not seriously find any other fault with it. So I don't understand why I am so harsh with the rating?
Feeling very confused, to be honest. Probably this is just the wrong book at the wrong time.
December 10, 2017
Este livro foi-me oferecido há mais de quinze anos e desde então que tem estado na estante sem que eu tenha tido qualquer curiosidade de lhe pegar (o motivo foi a pessoa que mo ofereceu ter gostos nada consonantes com os meus). Recentemente vi algumas opiniões aqui no goodreads que me levaram a sacudir-lhe o pó e a dar-lhe uma oportunidade.
E então é assim:
Esta é a noite mais triste, porque tenciono partir para nunca mais voltar.
Deste modo começa a história em que Jay, o narrador-protagonista, nos dá conta da sua intenção de deixar a mulher com quem vive há seis anos e os dois filhos de ambos. Uma história que pretende dar conta do que é o desmoronar de um relacionamento por via da extinção do amor (se é que este alguma vez existiu) e da intimidade que deve unir os casais que partilham a vida.
Dito assim, parece algo interessante e, quiçá, profundo. Mas não foi. Pelo menos eu não o senti dessa forma. Aquilo que senti foi estar perante um "Peter Pan", de visão misógina e egoísmo hedonista que, em momento algum me conseguiu fazer sentir qualquer tipo de empatia relativamente às suas dúvidas, lamúrias e auto-comiseração.
A história não conseguiu provocar-me qualquer impacto emocional, mas apenas desagrado em relação a quase tudo - a história, as personagens, os diálogos, os monólogos, os pensamentos. Para o desprazer da leitura também muito contribuiu a pobreza desta edição (Teorema, 1999), com uma tradução miserável e revisão inexistente, consubstanciando-se numa prosa atabalhoada e em numerosas frases carentes de sentido.
Este título foi adaptado ao cinema, tendo ganho o Urso de Ouro no Festival de Berlim em 2001. No entanto, da pequena pesquisa que fiz, fiquei com a ideia de que o enredo do filme pouco ou nada tem a ver com a história do livro.
Enfim, valeu o livro ser pequeno, com fonte e margens generosas.
E então é assim:
Esta é a noite mais triste, porque tenciono partir para nunca mais voltar.
Deste modo começa a história em que Jay, o narrador-protagonista, nos dá conta da sua intenção de deixar a mulher com quem vive há seis anos e os dois filhos de ambos. Uma história que pretende dar conta do que é o desmoronar de um relacionamento por via da extinção do amor (se é que este alguma vez existiu) e da intimidade que deve unir os casais que partilham a vida.
Dito assim, parece algo interessante e, quiçá, profundo. Mas não foi. Pelo menos eu não o senti dessa forma. Aquilo que senti foi estar perante um "Peter Pan", de visão misógina e egoísmo hedonista que, em momento algum me conseguiu fazer sentir qualquer tipo de empatia relativamente às suas dúvidas, lamúrias e auto-comiseração.
A história não conseguiu provocar-me qualquer impacto emocional, mas apenas desagrado em relação a quase tudo - a história, as personagens, os diálogos, os monólogos, os pensamentos. Para o desprazer da leitura também muito contribuiu a pobreza desta edição (Teorema, 1999), com uma tradução miserável e revisão inexistente, consubstanciando-se numa prosa atabalhoada e em numerosas frases carentes de sentido.
Este título foi adaptado ao cinema, tendo ganho o Urso de Ouro no Festival de Berlim em 2001. No entanto, da pequena pesquisa que fiz, fiquei com a ideia de que o enredo do filme pouco ou nada tem a ver com a história do livro.
Enfim, valeu o livro ser pequeno, com fonte e margens generosas.
January 28, 2008
Upon reading this, I felt that it was quite obvious that the author wrote this book with intimate knowledge of failed relationships and break-ups. The small details really do make this story. The disagreements of how to make tea, for example which leads both the characters feeling like they want to kill each other. The wife's badgering, the narrator's air of weariness, the disconnectedness of it all ... like they're only JUST missing the target, that if they tried that little bit harder, maybe they could get back on track. It really does hit a sore spot for anyone who has been in this position before.
I enjoyed following his train of thought, how he convinced himself that he will pack and leave, done! And then a few pages on, he contemplates waking his wife to talk. He wants her to say I love you, please stay! But also feels (knows?) that he doesn't want to try. He is indecisive, completely real and human. I feel like I am inside somebody's head and being dragged along on the emotional journey.
To throw a couple of children into the mix was just agonising and as a parent - I was sucked right into the confusion and pain. I think the only thing I struggled with was the lack of sorrow he had at leaving his children. Of course, he was bothered, it was one of the main themes of the book - but his world didn't seem rocked by it. I would have been a neurotic mess, rocking myself backwards and forwards in a dark corner somewhere! And then I probably wouldn't have left in the end. I certainly wouldn't have been deliberating on which objects to take with me when I left, which suits and shoes would suit my new life, which books should I leave for my sons to enjoy (although the nonchalance could have definitely been a coping mechanism).
I've read a few people's opinions on the book, on various websites and find that a lot of people hate the book, because of the narrator. But that is why I love it, he's a shitty person, he doesn't know what he wants, he's putting himself first, abandoning his family, chasing after some elusive ideal of love. It's not pretty. It's gritty, he's imperfect and I like being able to see a glimpse into his life and then be able to put the book down and appreciate my own.
I think the thing is, relationships do fail. And this really is a prime example of how it can happen ... lazily, cowardly and bleakly.
I enjoyed following his train of thought, how he convinced himself that he will pack and leave, done! And then a few pages on, he contemplates waking his wife to talk. He wants her to say I love you, please stay! But also feels (knows?) that he doesn't want to try. He is indecisive, completely real and human. I feel like I am inside somebody's head and being dragged along on the emotional journey.
To throw a couple of children into the mix was just agonising and as a parent - I was sucked right into the confusion and pain. I think the only thing I struggled with was the lack of sorrow he had at leaving his children. Of course, he was bothered, it was one of the main themes of the book - but his world didn't seem rocked by it. I would have been a neurotic mess, rocking myself backwards and forwards in a dark corner somewhere! And then I probably wouldn't have left in the end. I certainly wouldn't have been deliberating on which objects to take with me when I left, which suits and shoes would suit my new life, which books should I leave for my sons to enjoy (although the nonchalance could have definitely been a coping mechanism).
I've read a few people's opinions on the book, on various websites and find that a lot of people hate the book, because of the narrator. But that is why I love it, he's a shitty person, he doesn't know what he wants, he's putting himself first, abandoning his family, chasing after some elusive ideal of love. It's not pretty. It's gritty, he's imperfect and I like being able to see a glimpse into his life and then be able to put the book down and appreciate my own.
I think the thing is, relationships do fail. And this really is a prime example of how it can happen ... lazily, cowardly and bleakly.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
October 8, 2019
The theme of this book may not be to the liking of everybody,a middle aged man prepares to walk out on his wife and kids.But it is a beautifully crafted story,full of sadness and loss,as he realizes there is no coming back,and the memories are very painful.So far,Hanif Kureishi's best book for me.
October 6, 2015
One man pondering his life and relationships the night before he plans to leave his partner and children. Not very likeable.
January 30, 2023
Fără îndoială, cea mai bună carte a lui H. Kureishi dintre cele 3 (cu tot cu asta) citite de mine! O lucrare solidă - o numesc așa, deși e vorba de un volum de povestiri de sine stătătoare. Eu am închis ochii și le-am citit ca pe un roman, imaginația mea conferindu-le un misterios substrat comun.
Iar “Intimitate”, povestirea care dă titlul volumului, este un adevărat microroman - o desfătare!
Inteligență netă, ce - totuși - nu copleșește, simțul realității și al verosimilității, vibrația autorului într-un desăvârșit ton cu strada și cu societatea, modernism, nu și experimentalism sterp, plus ocheadele competente aruncate marilor opere ale literaturii.
Traducerea e OK, dar putea fi mai bună. Româneasca traducătorului ar fi putut fi mai bună, mai atent formulată. Mai gramaticală. Și nu, nu e vorba de a traduce limbaj argotic.
Dau un exemplu de stil prost: “Nu sunt în dispoziția de a hotărî nimic.” Sigur că reflexul e să mă întreb cum sună această dublă negație, sucită și lipsită de eleganță, în engleză (I’m not in the mood to decide nothing? - oribil)… Că trebuie să zăbovești puțin ca să îți dai seama ce vrea să zică.
O să fiu întrebat: tu cum ai fi tradus? Eu aș fi tradus: “Nu sunt în dispoziția de a hotărî ceva.” Ori: “Nu am dispoziția de a lua acum o hotărâre.” (Dacă vrem să introducem și puțină adaptare în text - permisă, cât timp se păstrează miezul comunicării.)
Iar “Intimitate”, povestirea care dă titlul volumului, este un adevărat microroman - o desfătare!
Inteligență netă, ce - totuși - nu copleșește, simțul realității și al verosimilității, vibrația autorului într-un desăvârșit ton cu strada și cu societatea, modernism, nu și experimentalism sterp, plus ocheadele competente aruncate marilor opere ale literaturii.
Traducerea e OK, dar putea fi mai bună. Româneasca traducătorului ar fi putut fi mai bună, mai atent formulată. Mai gramaticală. Și nu, nu e vorba de a traduce limbaj argotic.
Dau un exemplu de stil prost: “Nu sunt în dispoziția de a hotărî nimic.” Sigur că reflexul e să mă întreb cum sună această dublă negație, sucită și lipsită de eleganță, în engleză (I’m not in the mood to decide nothing? - oribil)… Că trebuie să zăbovești puțin ca să îți dai seama ce vrea să zică.
O să fiu întrebat: tu cum ai fi tradus? Eu aș fi tradus: “Nu sunt în dispoziția de a hotărî ceva.” Ori: “Nu am dispoziția de a lua acum o hotărâre.” (Dacă vrem să introducem și puțină adaptare în text - permisă, cât timp se păstrează miezul comunicării.)
November 2, 2017
Priča o kolotečini bračnog života, sa muškog aspekta. On svo vrijeme razmišlja kako će te noći napustiti Susan i djecu, vaga, pravda se, pa opet vaga, otići će, neće, kakiće, piškiće. Žao mu djece, a Susan i (pre)mirna bračna luka definitivno nisu nešto što želi muškarac u četrdesetim kog pere kriza srednjih godina. On želi Ninu, duplo mlađu djevojku koja ga bodri da masturbira po njoj dok spava. Ovo se čita u jednom dahu, malo zbog toga što nas zanima da li će otići, malo što ga mrzimo, malo što ga razumijemo. Pretpostavljam da žene baš i ne vole ovu knjigu, posebno one romantične, ali srećom ova žena je naučila (ili još uvijek uči) izdignuti se iznad tematike i racionalno čitati knjige, i ne mrziti lika kao da te noći planira mene ostaviti. Iako je neodgovoran, ciničan i u globalu nedopadljiv, na momente je simpatičan jer izaziva sažaljenje. Ako se Susan probudi, poželi ga upravo tu i padne neki seks, on neće otići. Tužno je koliko se ljudi otuđe od onih koje su jednom sami odabrali. Nekako su meni ovakvi narativi kao polovina mnogo složenije priče, kao da nedostaje dio, ovdje konkretno ženska verzija, kao da uvijek moramo imati dvije strane priče i sve objasniti. A ne moramo! Preporučujem!
July 24, 2018
My brain holds a big disparity. On the one hand, I loved the writing style and thought a lot of the ideas displayed were very intriguing and raw; on the other hand, there are some very controversial and unethical thoughts in here. It became difficult to separate the author and the narrator. Still very happy I've read this.
3,5*
3,5*
October 27, 2018
Un roman de aproximativ 100 de pagini și 3 povestiri de lungimi diferite.
Excelente caracterizări ale sufletului masculin, pe care rareori l-am văzut așa de bine analizat din perspectiva bărbatului care ba înșeală, ba este înșelat, ba pleacă de acasă și mai are o noapte de gândire, ba se află în rolul amantului înșelat cu... soțul, ba se întâlnește cu o necunoscută doar pentru sex. Ipostaze foarte diferite, dar care constituie o lume întreagă pentru speța masculină, analizată, disecată, criticată, pusă în paralel cu eternul feminin.
O carte care privește o altă lume, cu neliniștile și supărările sale, o lume a bărbaților care suferă la fel de mult ca și femeile aflate de partea cealaltă a mesei sau a patului.
Excelente caracterizări ale sufletului masculin, pe care rareori l-am văzut așa de bine analizat din perspectiva bărbatului care ba înșeală, ba este înșelat, ba pleacă de acasă și mai are o noapte de gândire, ba se află în rolul amantului înșelat cu... soțul, ba se întâlnește cu o necunoscută doar pentru sex. Ipostaze foarte diferite, dar care constituie o lume întreagă pentru speța masculină, analizată, disecată, criticată, pusă în paralel cu eternul feminin.
O carte care privește o altă lume, cu neliniștile și supărările sale, o lume a bărbaților care suferă la fel de mult ca și femeile aflate de partea cealaltă a mesei sau a patului.
October 13, 2019
Karısını genç bir sevgili için terk etmek üzere olan iki çocuklu ve de orta yaşlı uslanmaz bir ”kadın düşkünü” adamın hikayesi bu kısa roman. Bu eylemini haklı çıkarmak için ortaya attığı savlar da romanın özü.
Bu kısa roman ilk yayınlandığında Hanif Kureishi epey bir eleştiriye maruz kalmış. Zira anlattığı olayı bizzat yaşamış, romanın başkarakteri ile kendisi hakkında epey paralellikler varmış. Tim Parks’ın In Extremis romanıyla yaşadığına benzer bir durum yani. Ama In Extremis sıkı bir romandı en azından.
Ara sıra pırıltılı bölümler içerse de, başkarakterin bencilliği, sevimsizliği bir yana, metnin genel olarak yüzeyselliği, klişeliği, diğer karakterlerin (terk edilecek eş, biri yine zampara, diğeri ise iyi aile babası iki yakın arkadaşı... vs.) sığlığı gibi nedenlerle sevemedim bu kitabı. Oysa Kureishi’nin yıllar önce okuduğum The Buddha of Suburbia’sı (Varoşların Budası olarak dilimize çevrilmişti) bomba gibiydi.
Intimacy’nin Türkçe çevirisini Everest 2006’da Yakınlık adıyla basmış, bunca laftan sonra hala varsa ilgilenenlerin dikkatine😊.
Bu kısa roman ilk yayınlandığında Hanif Kureishi epey bir eleştiriye maruz kalmış. Zira anlattığı olayı bizzat yaşamış, romanın başkarakteri ile kendisi hakkında epey paralellikler varmış. Tim Parks’ın In Extremis romanıyla yaşadığına benzer bir durum yani. Ama In Extremis sıkı bir romandı en azından.
Ara sıra pırıltılı bölümler içerse de, başkarakterin bencilliği, sevimsizliği bir yana, metnin genel olarak yüzeyselliği, klişeliği, diğer karakterlerin (terk edilecek eş, biri yine zampara, diğeri ise iyi aile babası iki yakın arkadaşı... vs.) sığlığı gibi nedenlerle sevemedim bu kitabı. Oysa Kureishi’nin yıllar önce okuduğum The Buddha of Suburbia’sı (Varoşların Budası olarak dilimize çevrilmişti) bomba gibiydi.
Intimacy’nin Türkçe çevirisini Everest 2006’da Yakınlık adıyla basmış, bunca laftan sonra hala varsa ilgilenenlerin dikkatine😊.
April 11, 2019
Comprei este livro sem saber nada acerca da sua história ou autor, apenas porque gostei da capa e estava a um preço muito apetecível na Feira do Livro de Lisboa do ano passado. Intimidade é um livro relativamente breve, narrado na primeira pessoa por Jay, um homem que parece à beira de um esgotamento no meio de um casamento prestes a ruir.
A relação descrita por Jay não parece particularmente destrutiva; mas é aquela ligação entre duas pessoas que passaram a ser indiferentes uma à outra. Por vezes, Jay demonstra alguns laivos de ódio em relação à sua mulher, mas o que mais incomoda nesta relação é o facto de os 10 anos de vida em comum e os dois filhos parecerem não ter qualquer importância para este homem. O facto de ser uma narrativa na primeira pessoa pode, eventualmente, enviesar a forma como o leitor olha e avalia a vida do casal, mas não deixa de ser um relato cru e visceral sobre a forma como uma relação entre duas pessoas pode ser tudo menos aquilo que se desejaria.
No fundo, Intimidade acaba por ser sobre aquilo que verdadeiramente importa num casamento/relação, ao apresentar ao leitor tudo o que não deve ser. Leva a reflexões sobre a forma mais profunda de intimidade com alguém – que não tem necessariamente de passar pelo contacto físico – e na sorte que é encontrarmos alguém com quem o silêncio não se torna um incómodo. Hanif Kureishi tem aqui ideias bastante boas e uma escrita que me agradou, mas infelizmente não consegui criar grande empatia com o protagonista. Provavelmente, não era suposto, mas mesmo não concordando com as ações ou pensamentos de uma personagem, penso que é possível compreendê-los se o autor arranjar a forma certa de o fazer. Por isso, quanto a mim, Intimidade acaba por falhar nesse aspeto. No entanto, fiquei suficientemente intrigada pela escrita e ideias do autor para querer explorar mais a sua obra.
A relação descrita por Jay não parece particularmente destrutiva; mas é aquela ligação entre duas pessoas que passaram a ser indiferentes uma à outra. Por vezes, Jay demonstra alguns laivos de ódio em relação à sua mulher, mas o que mais incomoda nesta relação é o facto de os 10 anos de vida em comum e os dois filhos parecerem não ter qualquer importância para este homem. O facto de ser uma narrativa na primeira pessoa pode, eventualmente, enviesar a forma como o leitor olha e avalia a vida do casal, mas não deixa de ser um relato cru e visceral sobre a forma como uma relação entre duas pessoas pode ser tudo menos aquilo que se desejaria.
No fundo, Intimidade acaba por ser sobre aquilo que verdadeiramente importa num casamento/relação, ao apresentar ao leitor tudo o que não deve ser. Leva a reflexões sobre a forma mais profunda de intimidade com alguém – que não tem necessariamente de passar pelo contacto físico – e na sorte que é encontrarmos alguém com quem o silêncio não se torna um incómodo. Hanif Kureishi tem aqui ideias bastante boas e uma escrita que me agradou, mas infelizmente não consegui criar grande empatia com o protagonista. Provavelmente, não era suposto, mas mesmo não concordando com as ações ou pensamentos de uma personagem, penso que é possível compreendê-los se o autor arranjar a forma certa de o fazer. Por isso, quanto a mim, Intimidade acaba por falhar nesse aspeto. No entanto, fiquei suficientemente intrigada pela escrita e ideias do autor para querer explorar mais a sua obra.
September 21, 2015
Kureishi at his very best, an excruciating short story about the end of a relationship. Both dreamy and intense and very very sad. Most is made up of a monologue taking place in the narrators head (presumably) but it still is has a very distinct feel of theater drama, I was envisioning every character on stage during reading.
March 28, 2017
I have a lot to say so please bare with me .
This is a story of a middle-aged british screenwriter , Jay , who decides to leave his wife and two children & the whole book is actually a dialogue by Jay filled with flashbacks to his own past .
I don't know how to feel about this book .
It's daring ,brutal , hard to read , provocative , the characters , or the protagonist , Jay , is not likeable at all , instead you constantly feel like hitting him . But at the same time , it's compelling , irresistible and incredibly moving .
It makes you stop after each page and question yourself , would you do the same thing if you were Jay ? Is it fair for a person to live a miserable life with a woman he doesn't love ?
Although I hated Jay , but i agree with him in certain points , if you're not happy in a relationship , LEAVE. Because life is too short and if you are going to spend it sacrificing your own well being and happiness for the sake of others , it's your loss , and it's not selfishness , maybe you're better off that way , both of you really .
I loved the structure of the book : going back and forth with flashbacks and reality , at first you'll struggle a little bit to keep up , but only then you'll find yourself understanding his style.
The way he objectified women is irritating , he treated them as if they were only a source of pleasure , a way to please himself and his needs , no more.
I loved how honest he wrote , he could've changed things , added things to make this book more ' socially acceptable' , but he didn't .
Such a powerful exploration into someon's mind : i was so absorbed into his life , thoughts , struggles and acts .
This book was wondeful , I enjoyed every single page of it , but at the same time ,after the ending, I'm left with some unanswered questions and dilemmas , my mind is still processing the end and i don't know if i should feel sorry for Jay or punch him in the face .. I don't know ..
This is a story of a middle-aged british screenwriter , Jay , who decides to leave his wife and two children & the whole book is actually a dialogue by Jay filled with flashbacks to his own past .
I don't know how to feel about this book .
It's daring ,brutal , hard to read , provocative , the characters , or the protagonist , Jay , is not likeable at all , instead you constantly feel like hitting him . But at the same time , it's compelling , irresistible and incredibly moving .
It makes you stop after each page and question yourself , would you do the same thing if you were Jay ? Is it fair for a person to live a miserable life with a woman he doesn't love ?
Although I hated Jay , but i agree with him in certain points , if you're not happy in a relationship , LEAVE. Because life is too short and if you are going to spend it sacrificing your own well being and happiness for the sake of others , it's your loss , and it's not selfishness , maybe you're better off that way , both of you really .
I loved the structure of the book : going back and forth with flashbacks and reality , at first you'll struggle a little bit to keep up , but only then you'll find yourself understanding his style.
The way he objectified women is irritating , he treated them as if they were only a source of pleasure , a way to please himself and his needs , no more.
I loved how honest he wrote , he could've changed things , added things to make this book more ' socially acceptable' , but he didn't .
Such a powerful exploration into someon's mind : i was so absorbed into his life , thoughts , struggles and acts .
This book was wondeful , I enjoyed every single page of it , but at the same time ,after the ending, I'm left with some unanswered questions and dilemmas , my mind is still processing the end and i don't know if i should feel sorry for Jay or punch him in the face .. I don't know ..
October 23, 2017
Este es el retrato de un gilipollas. El personaje principal es asquerosamente machista, su visión de las mujeres (su mujer, su amante, su madre, su psicóloga) es desde despreciativa hasta condescendiente. Cumple todos los clichés del hombre en plena crisis, cuya frágil masculinidad le lleva a cuestionarse la potencia de su propio chorro de orina; reflexiona sobre el matrimonio, el amor y el deseo desde una perspectiva egoísta y misógina, reafirmando la necesidad de los hombres de sentirse poderosos, de ahí que su fantasía se traslade en la conquista de una jovencita a la que puede servir de modelo y a la que puede moldear a su antojo.
No obstante, y dejando de lado que el contenido es el que es, me ha parecido que está muy bien escrito, que el monólogo es coherente y lúcido. Aunque el protagonista sea despreciable, está muy bien retratado como lo que es.
No obstante, y dejando de lado que el contenido es el que es, me ha parecido que está muy bien escrito, que el monólogo es coherente y lúcido. Aunque el protagonista sea despreciable, está muy bien retratado como lo que es.
October 8, 2020
A lot of people talking about this books brutal honesty or raw truth. The fact of the matter is there is nothing to the book. Its 150 pages of a man trying to polish a turd and the author thinking he's writing pure gold. Kureishi's protagonist is shallow and acting on base instincts - he's bored and wants to have a carefree life chasing tail. But he tries to wrap his decisions up in much more complex, nuanced emotional states. He falls back on clichés and half formed thoughts. Plus all of the women and children in this book are one dimensional and sidelined. Frustrating to read. I told myself I would finish it. You can probably pick up a copy in a charity shop if you still think it's your bag. Don't spend money on this. Kureishi, if you ever happen to read this, save us all the trouble next time and just keep a journal.
June 9, 2018
~angustiante~
"Sei que o amor é um trabalho difícil; temos de sujar as mãos. Se não nos entregarmos, nada de interessante acontece. Ao mesmo tempo, é preciso encontrar a distância certa entre as pessoas. Demasiado perto, e elas dominam-nos; demasiado longe, e elas abandonam-nos. Como as poderemos manter na relação certa?"
"Sei que o amor é um trabalho difícil; temos de sujar as mãos. Se não nos entregarmos, nada de interessante acontece. Ao mesmo tempo, é preciso encontrar a distância certa entre as pessoas. Demasiado perto, e elas dominam-nos; demasiado longe, e elas abandonam-nos. Como as poderemos manter na relação certa?"
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October 24, 2021«این بدترین و بهترین کاری بود که در طول زندگیام انجام دادم. میدانستم که دیگر من را نمیبخشند اما چند نفر از دوستانمان را سراغ داری که بعد از این که از همسرانشان جدا شدند، احساس پشیمانی کردند و دوباره خواستند با هم باشند؟ چند نفر از آنها گفتند کاش میتوانستند دوباره برگردند؟... ازدواج لذت کمی دارد و صبر و تحمل زیاد میخواهد. مثل کاری که آدم از آن متنفر است. نه میتوانی ولش کنی، نه از آن لذت میبری. پدر و مادرم به هم وفادار بودند، اما به خودشان خیانت میکردند.»
اینها بخشی از جملات کتاب «نزدیکی» است که راوی آن تصمیم گرفته همین فردا صبح، زن و دو کودکش را بگذارد و برود. مردی ساکن لندن از نسل جوانانی که شکستن همه ساختارهای اجتماعی مساله روزشان به شمار میرفته، و حالا با وضع معیشتی مناسب و زندگی روبهراه، نشسته خیلی روراست با خودش و مخاطب، لحظات و اتفاقات و البته دلدرگیریها و فراز و نشیبهای پیش از رفتن را روایت میکند.
چیزی که باعث میشود خواندن این کتاب برای هر کس که ممکن است روزی همسرش به رفتن فکر کند، یا خودش به ترک همسرش فکر کند، یا حتی هیچ کدام فکرش را هم نکنند که ممکن است روزی یکیشان دیگری را تنها بگذارد، خواندنی و حتی بایسته شود.
داستان در فصلهایی کوتاه، درونکاوانه اما تصویری و خوشخوان روایت شده و خواننده را بارها با خود درگیر میکند، گویی که هر بار رازی را برای نخستین بار درباره خود، کشف که نه، پذیرفتنی کند. راوی که بر سر یک دوراهی بزرگ یا یک بزنگاه داستانی است، آنقدر ابعاد مختلف این جدایی، یا دقیقتر، رها کردن خانواده را زیرورو میکند، به کاوش در گذشتهی روابطش با زن و فرزند و دوستانش و حتی معاشقههای دیگرش میپردازد، و صادقانه درباره چالشهای اخلاقی درونیاش بحث میکند که به یاد خواننده میآورد او نیز همواره در زندگی متاهلی کنونی (یا بعد از این) بر سر همین بزنگاه و دوراهی است. البته که تصمیم نهایی را هر کس باید خود بگیرد و کتاب با پایانبندی به موقعش مسئولیت تام و تمام تصمیم نهایی را بر دوش خواننده میگذارد، اما آنکه این کتاب را خوانده، حتماً دانستهها و آگاهی بیشتری برای تصمیمگیری در اختیار دارد.
داستان «نزدیکی» را حنیف قریشی نویسنده بریتانیایی دانشآموخته فلسفه دانشگاه لندن نوشته که برنده جوایز ادبی مختلفی بوده و از آثارش ازجمله از همین کتاب فیلمهایی هم ساخته شده که جوایز سینمایی معتبری را از آن خود کرده است.
اینها بخشی از جملات کتاب «نزدیکی» است که راوی آن تصمیم گرفته همین فردا صبح، زن و دو کودکش را بگذارد و برود. مردی ساکن لندن از نسل جوانانی که شکستن همه ساختارهای اجتماعی مساله روزشان به شمار میرفته، و حالا با وضع معیشتی مناسب و زندگی روبهراه، نشسته خیلی روراست با خودش و مخاطب، لحظات و اتفاقات و البته دلدرگیریها و فراز و نشیبهای پیش از رفتن را روایت میکند.
چیزی که باعث میشود خواندن این کتاب برای هر کس که ممکن است روزی همسرش به رفتن فکر کند، یا خودش به ترک همسرش فکر کند، یا حتی هیچ کدام فکرش را هم نکنند که ممکن است روزی یکیشان دیگری را تنها بگذارد، خواندنی و حتی بایسته شود.
داستان در فصلهایی کوتاه، درونکاوانه اما تصویری و خوشخوان روایت شده و خواننده را بارها با خود درگیر میکند، گویی که هر بار رازی را برای نخستین بار درباره خود، کشف که نه، پذیرفتنی کند. راوی که بر سر یک دوراهی بزرگ یا یک بزنگاه داستانی است، آنقدر ابعاد مختلف این جدایی، یا دقیقتر، رها کردن خانواده را زیرورو میکند، به کاوش در گذشتهی روابطش با زن و فرزند و دوستانش و حتی معاشقههای دیگرش میپردازد، و صادقانه درباره چالشهای اخلاقی درونیاش بحث میکند که به یاد خواننده میآورد او نیز همواره در زندگی متاهلی کنونی (یا بعد از این) بر سر همین بزنگاه و دوراهی است. البته که تصمیم نهایی را هر کس باید خود بگیرد و کتاب با پایانبندی به موقعش مسئولیت تام و تمام تصمیم نهایی را بر دوش خواننده میگذارد، اما آنکه این کتاب را خوانده، حتماً دانستهها و آگاهی بیشتری برای تصمیمگیری در اختیار دارد.
داستان «نزدیکی» را حنیف قریشی نویسنده بریتانیایی دانشآموخته فلسفه دانشگاه لندن نوشته که برنده جوایز ادبی مختلفی بوده و از آثارش ازجمله از همین کتاب فیلمهایی هم ساخته شده که جوایز سینمایی معتبری را از آن خود کرده است.
July 31, 2014
I would love to give this book a 5 star rating. But only one question prevents it "What if its my father?". An excellent and extremely dangerous book. Its like Sofia Cappollo and Sam Mendes sat together to write something which is a sequel to 'Lost in Translation' and a prequel to 'American beauty'. Engaging and yet edgy Mr.Kureshi has pulled off a ripper and gives us a world of emotional-sexual turmoil(Its autobiographical you see). It is so real,for example the man watches his children with all the tenderness and respects his wife. He describes her as hard working and talented. But this man is not all perfect. He cheats. He is mean. He is jealous. He is a man for god sake. But he yearns for his wife, here comes the dilemma, his yearning is physical-cum-emotional. Its like a proof or a strong beacon... something to hold on to the relationship. Beware ladies and gentlemen its not a book for you folks its for insecure-crazy people(I mean... err Dudes). Argue over the book I don't mind, Say its crap I don't care. To me its one of the most important works I have ever read. This might shape my ideas about a relationship and the idea of monogamy. The morals and ethics are separate issues don't confuse them with ones idea for an ideal relationship if you come charging at my stance (It's fiction take it that way).
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