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A review by roguepingu
Les Rêveries du Promeneur solitaire by Jean-Jacques Rousseau
2.0
Rousseau did not write these solitary contemplations for the public eye and perhaps it should have stayed that way. While there are some beautiful moments of lyricism, they do little to make up for what I found to be an excruciating stream of consciousness.
Rousseau spends a lot of the book declaring how he’s turned his back on all the morally corrupt people of the city, how he is so much better off without them, and how only nature is the only place that accepts him for who he is as a person *dramatic hair flick*
This self-righteousness as well as the occasional lapse into the third person was grating if not simply boring. Rousseau’s use of the verb “herboriser” (to collect plants) while entirely appropriate, made me laugh because I read it with an English brain that conjured the image of Rousseau going around gardens with a canister of Italian herbs, sprinkling garden beds and breathing in the smell of dried oregano and basil.
I spent a lot of time distracted while reading this book.
Rousseau spends a lot of the book declaring how he’s turned his back on all the morally corrupt people of the city, how he is so much better off without them, and how only nature is the only place that accepts him for who he is as a person *dramatic hair flick*
This self-righteousness as well as the occasional lapse into the third person was grating if not simply boring. Rousseau’s use of the verb “herboriser” (to collect plants) while entirely appropriate, made me laugh because I read it with an English brain that conjured the image of Rousseau going around gardens with a canister of Italian herbs, sprinkling garden beds and breathing in the smell of dried oregano and basil.
I spent a lot of time distracted while reading this book.