Justin's Haythe's remarkably assured debut, The Honeymoon, has been compared to the work of Ford Madox Ford and F. Scott Fitzgerald. Set in London and Venice at the end of the twentieth century, The Honeymoon follows a young man as he looks back on a series of events that have caused his life to unravel. Traveling through the capitals of Europe with his eccentric mother Maureen, American born Gordon Garraty has led a life of barren privilege. Only after marrying Annie, several years his senior and the daughter of a North London cab driver, does Gordon begin to emerge from the sphere of his mother's influence. Accompanied by Maureen and her Swiss fiancé, Annie and Gordon finally take a long-delayed honeymoon in Venice but find that the brilliance of the city seems to distort rather than illuminate. The story gathers a palpable intensity before a single act of absurd but devastating violence pricks their happy bubble and lays bare the emptiness at the core of their gilded lives. A deeply observant and beautifully crafted tale, gently funny and tender in equal parts, The Honeymoon marks the debut of a compelling new writer.
This book was a pretentious pile of garbage and the star is just for the joy I felt from finishing it. There is not a single original thought or idea in this Freudian bore of a book such so that the second something interesting happened I had to read the page at least three times to make sure I hadn’t imagined it. I’m not upset enough to be directly mean to the author (because this book fails to rouse any emotion) but it feels in keeping with this book that he went on to contribute to the script of Morbius
This book was probably a 3 or 3.5 until "a single act of absurd but devastating violence pricks their happy bubble and lays bare the emptiness at the core of their gilded lives." This act is so stupid and results in such dramatic events that I could hardly stop rolling my eyes to finish the book.
I really enjoyed this part of the novel “One final glimpse from the portal window, from the gangplank, or the railing. The separation always feels like forever. And the protest is always the same, ‘But I haven’t seen enough. I am not full up! I would like to have seen a little more of Paris. One more afternoon coffee on the St Andre de Arts. One more morning in the Musee Rodin.’ Or, ‘Another day in London is all I ask. If I were to get up early and have just a sandwich for lunch I could do two museums in a day…One more afternoon in Madrid admist the Goyas and Picassos, if you please. One more lazy afternoon in Rome. One more gondola ride in Venice…It is here that I have felt most alive, most in love. Here where my eyes are open.’ And it feels that life is not possible, it cannot go on at home in normal circumstances and indeed it cannot!…I pity you…The only solace is that the door is not shut behind you. There is no rush. No haste required. For no matter the crowd that beats you back there, Europe will look fresh and new to the proper viewer. To friendly eyes, she will part the curtains and reveal…the same quality that has attracted visitors and the greatest artist since these cities began: inspiration.”
I think it describes the romance that one can have with a city or a place. This book spends a lot of time with characters that spend so much time falling in love with the art and world around them they miss what it is to love each other. I was expecting more of a romance but the book was more melancholic and at times sad and in a way it is the perfect travel companion. Travel in many ways is a solo journey. No matter the partner you go with the place and how you experience it is something only you can describe.
I wish I had spent more time looking up the paintings referenced in the book as parts of it would have enhanced the reading experience.
I almost gave up on The Honeymoon. Haythe turns some cute metaphors but the back and forth of the first chapters did feel a bit chaotic. For a while it seemed he'd set himself the task of writing his protagonist's life story in chapters each themed around a painting: check Greuze's Broken Eggs on lost virtue.
The second half of the book redeems itself both in readability and in some dark and audacious plot turns. Still, the pleasure is of the guilty type, predicated on despising most of the characters, members of an idle, onanist and monied elite who kid themselves their superior artistic sensibilities justify their idling away the years on a never-ending, twenty first century version of the grand tour. See? This novel is unlikely to nurture your higher self. I for one felt ashamed to have enjoyed bits of it.
I finished this book a couple of days ago and have delayed writing a review because I really don't know what to make of it. I really want to like this book and in some parts I did. I didn't find any of the main characters particularly endearing, in fact the only character I liked was Theo, but he hardly featured. I couldn't fathom out Gordon or Annie but as the book drew on I felt it was building up to something quite dramatic and big. But it just fizzled out with me asking lots of whys? I'm left feeling quite disappointed but on the plus side I'm itching to get back to Venice after it was described so well.
Set in London and Venice at the end of the 20th century, we follow Gordon as a boy traveling with his art loving mother around Europe and then as a young married man on his honeymoon with his mother and her fiance along to the tension. The book promises a "act of absurd but devastating violence that lays bare the emptiness at the core of the gilded lives." At the very end, the mom, Maureen, stabs the young bride, Annie, with a fork in the tendons between her fingers. No emergency or hospital. Just an ending. Annie leaves Gordon. I guess because I kept waiting for this big act of violence, this seems anticlimactic and dull. Not one character was sympathetic to me.
the honeymoon is about only fo food. Rich food they all of them enjoy enough I sad one line about that novel is that the honeymoon was not the honeymoon just because not a single chapter in this book was about romance and sex. everything about was the cruelty of Maureen and Alina they both of them, are always play games to each other but never show off the rage who had hide inside of both.
The subject was good characters are good fiction was good but the title of the book was not good hence I will give you 3 out of 5. I think you need to improve your writing regarding fiction.
Boring start, I guess up until I was perhaps 65% through, did the book finally become interesting, only to have a sudden ending that feels rushed. Unsure if someone who loves paintings would love this book more than I have (as the author speaks endlessly of some famous paintings). I would have given it a 2.5 but torn between a 2 and a 3, I went with a 3! The book is quite melancholic...
A strange brew...art appreciation, an unflagging description of Venice, a coming of age, emotional unpreparedness, mother & son entertwined. Beautifully, artfully, and quietly written, reminding me of an Ian Ms Ewan novel unfolding.
Ehh, didn’t really love this. Felt like the whole book was lead up…to something that didn’t feel climatic. Ultimately this story is really about a mother/son relationship.
A Jamesian tale of American expats deluded by their own aesthetic snobbery. I did not like the central characters, but did find their middle-class vulnerabilities realistically-drawn and very recognizable.
If you have ever fallen in love with travelling and you only can read one passage of this book then it should be this one:
...One final glimpse from the portal window, from the gangplank, or the railing. The separation always feels like forever. And the protest is always the same, 'But I haven't seen enough. I am not full up! I would like to have seen a little more of Paris. One more afternoon coffee on the St Andre de Arts. One more morning in the Musee Rodin.' Or, 'Another day in London is all I ask. If I were to get up early and have just a sandwich for lunch I could do two museums in a day...One more afternoon in Madrid admist the Goyas and Picassos, if you please. One more lazy afternoon in Rome. One more gondola ride in Venice...It is here that I have felt most alive, most in love. Here where my eyes are open.' And it feels that life is not possible, it cannot go on at home in normal circumstances and indeed it cannot!...I pity you...The only solace is that the door is not shut behind you. There is no rush. No haste required. For no matter the crowd that beats you back there, Europe will look fresh and new to the proper viewer. To friendly eyes, she will part the curtains and reveal...the same quality that has attracted visitors and the greatest artist since these cities began: inspiration. - The Honeymoon by Justin Haythe
I think it describes the romance that one can have with a city or a place. This book spends a lot of time with characters that spend so much time falling in love with the art and world around them they miss what it is to love each other. I was expecting more of a romance but the book was more melancholic and at times sad and in a way it is the perfect travel companion. Travel in many ways is a solo journey. No matter the partner you go with the place and how you experience it is something only you can describe.
I wish I had spent more time looking up the paintings referenced in the book as parts of it would have enhanced the reading experience.
Decided to read this as the honeymoon happens in Venice - and books on Venice always appeal.
Throughout the book there is a strange sense of foreboding, enhanced by the fact that the author is recounting the events that lead to his failed marriage.
I enjoyed some of the author's insights - and his descriptions of Venice.