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fbroom's review against another edition
3.0
I liked reading it. I like the essay on Education a lot.
josh_paul's review against another edition
4.0
Judt wrote the Memory Chalet while in the late stages of ALS (aka Lou Gehrig's Disease). He didn't experience a great deal of pain from the disease, but was kept awake at night by itches that he couldn't scratch (because he was paralyzed). During these nights he would distract himself by thinking back on his life and composing essays about them which he remember using the "memory palace" method. In the morning he would dictate them, and they were published posthumously, in this very book.
The essays themselves are a mixed bag. They're about the author's own life, but informed by the author's deep knowledge of European history.
The essays themselves are a mixed bag. They're about the author's own life, but informed by the author's deep knowledge of European history.
kirstendumo's review against another edition
3.0
I enjoyed some chapters quite a bit, and others less so. It did seem a very well written book but at times I found myself a bit bored. That was just me, though, it does seem to be a good book.
catrionajudd's review against another edition
reflective
medium-paced
5.0
Tony was my cousin. I only met him a couple of times in my childhood- long before I was able to have real complex conversations about my heritage and history. His books are a way of having these conversations with him now- conversing with someone I would have agreed with, debated with, and laughed with. Most of all I’m glad to still have learned from him. Typical of family- I don’t agree with all of his views, but then that wouldn’t have made for good conversation if I had. This book is unbelievably special to me, and I hope it can be for other people too.
carmelitasita's review against another edition
5.0
Even taking away the amazing fact that Mr. Judt wrote this collection of memoir/essays while dealing with ALS, this is still a great collection of memories and ruminations. The last third of the book really stood out as excellent; thoughtful and sure of its opinions while showing grace and understanding. A very enjoyable book.
em_ham's review against another edition
3.0
I'm glad I read Tony Judt's memoir, but did find it a little disappointing. After the introduction, I found it easy to forget the circumstances in which the book was being written, and the 'memory chalet' mnemonic technique, which were really the most fascinating and moving aspects of the book and which had drawn me to it. The book featured memories but didn't explore memory as much as I expected. Having said that, the 'feuilletons' were interesting, and Judt strung a diverse range of intellectual topics together using a personal narrative thread with great skill. I enjoyed not knowing what each new chapter would be about, and the book was peppered with really sharp, profound, stimulating insights. Where Judt lost me most was in what I felt was a dismissiveness of women and sexual politics, and an attitude to minority groups that I struggled to unpick. It felt a little as if his ability to recognise or value people was rather conditional upon whether they aligned with his intellectual viewpoints. Still there were passaged I loved, and I would encourage others to read it.
idrees2022's review against another edition
5.0
There is no single person to whom I owe a greater intellectual (and stylistic) debt than to Tony Judt. These vignettes -- what Judt calls feuilletons -- were composed during his final decline. They are remarkable for their insight, erudition, sharp observations, and vivid recall of personal, political, cultural and geographical memory. One can hardly think of a greater gift.
saulihavu's review against another edition
5.0
I usually don't write reviews, but..
Nostalgy for something you never experienced is a curious feeling. This book tells us about a world that has dissappeared. A world of arrogant French intellectuals debating abstract theories and declaring that everything must be destroyed before it can be built again. A world of old-school university teachers who didn't seem to give a damn whether their students are following them or not. A world of lenghty discussions, very erudite and very irresponsible about the latest intellectual trends. A world where it was taken for granted everyone in higher education knows the Western Canon. A world where the most gifted students would choose careers in the academia or the administration over investment banks. A world of the welfare state, of trade unions and mass politics. Finally, a world of something as exciting as the sexual revolution which ironically signalled the inevitable end of the era.
It was also a world of casual racism, a world of casual sexism. A world where homosexuality did not exist. A world where students could seriously support some of the most horrible dictatorships of history. A world where to proclaim the greatness of the Chinese cultural revolution was trendy. A world where white old men were the norm and few questioned it. A world where individuality was frowned upon and in the conflict between individuality and security, security was preferred to the point of dullness and homogeneity. A world where something as ridiculous as Paris -68 could seem important while students who claimed to be communists ignored what was going on in Prague, or indeed called those who really were fighting for real liberty revisionistic traitors.
Thus was the world of post-war modernity . For me to feel nostalgic about it is indulgent and privileged. Much has become better after that. But it was also a world of certainty, of the belief in progress, of the idea that intellectual discussion and ideas in themselves matter. That the world will improve and we humans know how to do that. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. May the arrogance never be back. But sometimes one can't help hoping that we did not know what we know now, no matter how indulgent and selfish such a thought is.
Nostalgy for something you never experienced is a curious feeling. This book tells us about a world that has dissappeared. A world of arrogant French intellectuals debating abstract theories and declaring that everything must be destroyed before it can be built again. A world of old-school university teachers who didn't seem to give a damn whether their students are following them or not. A world of lenghty discussions, very erudite and very irresponsible about the latest intellectual trends. A world where it was taken for granted everyone in higher education knows the Western Canon. A world where the most gifted students would choose careers in the academia or the administration over investment banks. A world of the welfare state, of trade unions and mass politics. Finally, a world of something as exciting as the sexual revolution which ironically signalled the inevitable end of the era.
It was also a world of casual racism, a world of casual sexism. A world where homosexuality did not exist. A world where students could seriously support some of the most horrible dictatorships of history. A world where to proclaim the greatness of the Chinese cultural revolution was trendy. A world where white old men were the norm and few questioned it. A world where individuality was frowned upon and in the conflict between individuality and security, security was preferred to the point of dullness and homogeneity. A world where something as ridiculous as Paris -68 could seem important while students who claimed to be communists ignored what was going on in Prague, or indeed called those who really were fighting for real liberty revisionistic traitors.
Thus was the world of post-war modernity . For me to feel nostalgic about it is indulgent and privileged. Much has become better after that. But it was also a world of certainty, of the belief in progress, of the idea that intellectual discussion and ideas in themselves matter. That the world will improve and we humans know how to do that. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. May the arrogance never be back. But sometimes one can't help hoping that we did not know what we know now, no matter how indulgent and selfish such a thought is.