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thelaurelwreathcrowned's review
funny
mysterious
reflective
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
4.75
mveldeivendran's review
5.0
At first, a moment of exclamation. Wow. What a weird of one book it is!
I came to know about Daumal by reading one of his poems in my instagram feed. I was quite intrigued and determined to try one of his works.
"I am dead because I lack desire,
I lack desire because I think I possess,
I think I possess because I do not try to give,
In trying to give, I see that I have nothing,
Seeing that I have nothing, I try to give of yourself,
Trying to give of myself, I see that I'm nothing,
Seeing that I'm nothing, I desire to become,
In desiring to become, I begin to live."
My initial response by knowing Daumal could be labelled as 'Spiritual Para-Surrealist' and 'Pataphysician' whatever that means, is not as good as now. I explored the titles of his work, and marked it on goodreads so I don't have to remember it anymore and that was it. That happened a month ago. Encountering him again and reading his work has to do something with my Grandfather who is well and alive in his early 80s. He can't sleep a night without sipping his favorites. Whenever he visits to wherever he visits, he obligates the host to get his drinks so that everyone in the house could sleep peacefully. And recently he visited us and equipped himself a couple bottles of Brandy. But for some reasons, he never drank that much like the old days and left us with a bottle by mistake. No one in my family drink. I do try Beer every one out of 3 to 4 months but whenever I find the bottle rattling around the house like it were a souvenir of my grandpa, it inspired me to try the novelty of experiencing Brandy. And so to consummate my drink, I had to find some reasons. Now you might understand that Daumal was explored only to serve as an alibi for my exploration of Brandy. But I didn't end up satisfied with the latter. I would say it's pretty overrated. It didn't surprise me much unlike the former.
It took me 2 nights and yes, it felt like hard work but it was over. I read it. And what now? Did I learn anything worth learning? Did I become more wise? Did I feel like find the root of all evils and sufferings that is going on with the world right now? All these questions are half the answer.
By any chance, if someone happens to ask me about this book in future, 'I know this book very well but I don't understand any of it' would be response and my attempt to get to the mood while reading this in a night of serious drinking was not a great idea. It didn't help much and so I had to give it another night to read it completely. One need not to be drunk prior to reading this. Reading this would be suffice to know one is always drunk - illusory or artificial made. Always drunk. The drunkest among us never drinks.
The Author is basically proposing that everything that we do is useless and everything we avoid doing the useless - all modes of escapism is also useless. In an apartment filled with friends and acquaintances, author begins drinking and not stopping it until one of the acquaintances took him to a series of 'trips' showing the reality where people are not drunk and classified as Fidgeters, Fabricators and Clarificators, and Gods as per drunken nomenclature. The second part of the book only deals with the trip where he meets different people like the Little Prince but in a darker depressing context. Personally I found this very disturbing.
"And are the Kirittiks all supplied?" I asked the orderly when I'd shaken off all manner of somber thoughts.
"Yes. Every one of them has at least five novels, three books of literary criticism, two works of philosophy, seventy-two collections of poetry, fifteen Lives of famous men, twenty volumes of Memoirs, thirty pamphlets, and great mounds of newspapers and reviews to imbibe before the end of the week. It's never any different. They are indefatigable and insatiable. It would be a waste of our time wanting to talk with them."
We all do certain work and want gratifying response as a part of reward system. Imagine several billion people doing it unconsciously and expecting phony appreciations.
Daumal ridicules basically everyone, every last one of us from all walks of our cultural and social structure.
"The Sophers on the other hand derive
their name from Sophia, their goddess, famed for her misfortunes and her misadventures. It has been demonstrated that the word was
in fact no more than a corruption of 'savers,' a nickname given them by wise men of long ago as a way of summing up a number of sayings mockingly attributed to them, such as : 'I know everything, save for most things'; 'I am acquainted with everything, save myself'; 'everything decays, save me' ; 'everything is in everything, save me'; and so forth."
Daumal says he finalises his accounts optimistically about the condition and the future prospects of human condition even though he says those accounts would be considered as pessimistic and depressing.
In somber mood, I recalled my whole life up to this day, and my head spun with the buzzing of a hundred and one ouroboristic worms. I remembered the drinking parties that made us thirsty and the thirst that made us drink; I thought back to Sidonius recounting his endless dream; to
the people who worked to be able to eat and who ate to have the strength to work; to the black thoughts I drowned with such sadness
in the cask and which were reborn in different hues. Between the vicious circles of the drinking party and those of the delusory paradises, I would never again be able to choose, I could no longer be
part of their revolutions, I was from that moment no more than a wasteland."
I would never recommend it anyone nor would never advocate anyone to recommend this to anyone. You see, I still prefer the saying "When the student is ready, the teacher appears."
I came to know about Daumal by reading one of his poems in my instagram feed. I was quite intrigued and determined to try one of his works.
"I am dead because I lack desire,
I lack desire because I think I possess,
I think I possess because I do not try to give,
In trying to give, I see that I have nothing,
Seeing that I have nothing, I try to give of yourself,
Trying to give of myself, I see that I'm nothing,
Seeing that I'm nothing, I desire to become,
In desiring to become, I begin to live."
My initial response by knowing Daumal could be labelled as 'Spiritual Para-Surrealist' and 'Pataphysician' whatever that means, is not as good as now. I explored the titles of his work, and marked it on goodreads so I don't have to remember it anymore and that was it. That happened a month ago. Encountering him again and reading his work has to do something with my Grandfather who is well and alive in his early 80s. He can't sleep a night without sipping his favorites. Whenever he visits to wherever he visits, he obligates the host to get his drinks so that everyone in the house could sleep peacefully. And recently he visited us and equipped himself a couple bottles of Brandy. But for some reasons, he never drank that much like the old days and left us with a bottle by mistake. No one in my family drink. I do try Beer every one out of 3 to 4 months but whenever I find the bottle rattling around the house like it were a souvenir of my grandpa, it inspired me to try the novelty of experiencing Brandy. And so to consummate my drink, I had to find some reasons. Now you might understand that Daumal was explored only to serve as an alibi for my exploration of Brandy. But I didn't end up satisfied with the latter. I would say it's pretty overrated. It didn't surprise me much unlike the former.
It took me 2 nights and yes, it felt like hard work but it was over. I read it. And what now? Did I learn anything worth learning? Did I become more wise? Did I feel like find the root of all evils and sufferings that is going on with the world right now? All these questions are half the answer.
By any chance, if someone happens to ask me about this book in future, 'I know this book very well but I don't understand any of it' would be response and my attempt to get to the mood while reading this in a night of serious drinking was not a great idea. It didn't help much and so I had to give it another night to read it completely. One need not to be drunk prior to reading this. Reading this would be suffice to know one is always drunk - illusory or artificial made. Always drunk. The drunkest among us never drinks.
The Author is basically proposing that everything that we do is useless and everything we avoid doing the useless - all modes of escapism is also useless. In an apartment filled with friends and acquaintances, author begins drinking and not stopping it until one of the acquaintances took him to a series of 'trips' showing the reality where people are not drunk and classified as Fidgeters, Fabricators and Clarificators, and Gods as per drunken nomenclature. The second part of the book only deals with the trip where he meets different people like the Little Prince but in a darker depressing context. Personally I found this very disturbing.
"And are the Kirittiks all supplied?" I asked the orderly when I'd shaken off all manner of somber thoughts.
"Yes. Every one of them has at least five novels, three books of literary criticism, two works of philosophy, seventy-two collections of poetry, fifteen Lives of famous men, twenty volumes of Memoirs, thirty pamphlets, and great mounds of newspapers and reviews to imbibe before the end of the week. It's never any different. They are indefatigable and insatiable. It would be a waste of our time wanting to talk with them."
We all do certain work and want gratifying response as a part of reward system. Imagine several billion people doing it unconsciously and expecting phony appreciations.
Daumal ridicules basically everyone, every last one of us from all walks of our cultural and social structure.
"The Sophers on the other hand derive
their name from Sophia, their goddess, famed for her misfortunes and her misadventures. It has been demonstrated that the word was
in fact no more than a corruption of 'savers,' a nickname given them by wise men of long ago as a way of summing up a number of sayings mockingly attributed to them, such as : 'I know everything, save for most things'; 'I am acquainted with everything, save myself'; 'everything decays, save me' ; 'everything is in everything, save me'; and so forth."
Daumal says he finalises his accounts optimistically about the condition and the future prospects of human condition even though he says those accounts would be considered as pessimistic and depressing.
In somber mood, I recalled my whole life up to this day, and my head spun with the buzzing of a hundred and one ouroboristic worms. I remembered the drinking parties that made us thirsty and the thirst that made us drink; I thought back to Sidonius recounting his endless dream; to
the people who worked to be able to eat and who ate to have the strength to work; to the black thoughts I drowned with such sadness
in the cask and which were reborn in different hues. Between the vicious circles of the drinking party and those of the delusory paradises, I would never again be able to choose, I could no longer be
part of their revolutions, I was from that moment no more than a wasteland."
I would never recommend it anyone nor would never advocate anyone to recommend this to anyone. You see, I still prefer the saying "When the student is ready, the teacher appears."
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