I Prefer Books

I Prefer Books

Category Archives: Fiction

“The Power and the Glory” by Graham Greene

09 Saturday May 2015

Posted by Giedre in Fiction

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1940s, 20th century, british, historical fiction

3690Although lately I had no time or mood for writing reviews, I can’t just give three stars to “The Power and the Glory” by Graham Greene without at least leaving a comment to justify it. Please, don’t get confused, Greene’s writing in “The Power and the Glory” has never failed me: it’s captivating, deep, and I enjoyed the book until the very last moment. The story resembled a relay-race to me, where the thread of the story was handed over from one character to another like a baton, creating a fully developed and broad vision. Whisky Priest, the main character of the book, was intricate and still very human. The metaphors and parallels with the Bible were interesting and I found the whole book to be an exciting social experiment taken to an extreme level, an exploration of a society where religion is in process of being eradicated. So, my three stars by no means intend to diminish the literary value of the book. They simply mean that I don’t agree with the partiality of the author, with his clear favour for one part of the story, with his attempt to give us an answer instead of leaving us with a open question.

May, 2015

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“Tomorrow in the Battle Think on Me” by Javier Marías

15 Wednesday Jan 2014

Posted by Giedre in Fiction

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1990s, 20th century, spanish

60030It had been a long time since I read a book by a Spanish author (probably because I live in Spain for some years) until I finally picked up “Mañana en la batalla piensa en mí” by Javier Marías, recommended by a friend. A great recommendation without any doubts.

I had mixed feelings about the book at the very beginning, about these never-ending sentences and the over-analyzing of every detail until the point of not only stopping the moment but also extending it to what sometimes felt like hours. My doubts didn’t last long though. I felt sucked in the story and in the narrator’s stream of thoughts which created a strange and addictive feeling of living in his head, seeing through his eyes and even thinking his thoughts.

Reading this book felt like going in numerous circles, finding on the way an endless line of open doors, only to be taken back time and again and see them all being closed. What had seemed rambling without any clear purpose at first, gained meaning in the most unexpected ways while I was turning the pages in a strange frenzy.

What an wonderful and unexpected journey, a study of fragility and impermanence.

“So many things happen without anyone realizing or remembering. There is almost no record of anything, fleeting thoughts and actions, plans and desires, secret doubts, fantasies, acts of cruelty and insults, words said and heard and later denied or misunderstood or distorted, promises made and then overlooked, even by those to whom they were made, everything is forgotten or invalidated, whatever is done alone or not written down, along with everything that is done not alone but in company, how little remains of each individual, how little trace remains of anything, and how much of that little is never talked about and, afterwards, one remembers only a tiny fraction of what was said, and then only briefly, the individual memory is not passed on and is, anyway, of no interest to the person receiving it, who is busy forging his or her own memories.”

January 2014

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