Ocho noches blancas

by André Aciman

Es la noche de Navidad, y Henry deambula por los salones de un inmenso apartamento del Upper West Side de Nueva York, confundiéndose con los demás invitados de una fiesta que parece no acabar nunca. De pronto, una voz lo sorprende: #Soy Clara#, sin más, anuncia una mujer joven y hermosa, y estas dos palabras, tan simples y firmes, bastan para intrigar a Henry. Luego, un cigarrillo compartido en la terraza y unas cuantas frases más los convierten en cómplices de una historia de amor única. Nosotros, desde las páginas del libro, acompañamos a Henry en los días que siguen a la fiesta, a lo largo de las ocho noches blancas que separan la Navidad de la celebración de Año nuevo. Ahí estamos, testigos privilegiados de las dudas del joven, de sus paseos solitarios en busca de Clara, de su desconcierto al verla de repente cuando todo parecía perdido, de su miedo al compromiso y sus ganas de entrega. Todo lo que suele caber en una gran aventura amorosa, aquí se destila en una semana inolvidable, un espléndido homenaje de André Aciman a las Noches blancas de Dostoievsky y a la mejor literatura amorosa de todos los tiempos.

Genres: Fiction, Romance, Contemporary, Christmas, Literary Fiction, Love, Literature

512 pages, Paperback

First published February 2, 2010

About the author

André Aciman was born in Alexandria, Egypt and is an American memoirist, essayist, novelist, and scholar of seventeenth-century literature. He has also written many essays and reviews on Marcel Proust. His work has appeared in The New Yorker, The New York Review of Books, The New York Times, The Paris Review, The New Republic, Condé Nast Traveler as well as in many volumes of The Best American Essays. Aciman received his Ph.D. in Comparative Literature from Harvard University, has taught at Princeton and Bard and is Distinguished Professor of Comparative Literature at The CUNY Graduate Center. He is currently chair of the Ph. D. Program in Comparative Literature and founder and director of The Writers' Institute at the Graduate Center.

Aciman is the author of the Whiting Award-winning memoir Out of Egypt (1995), an account of his childhood as a Jew growing up in post-colonial Egypt. Aciman has published two other books: False Papers: Essays in Exile and Memory (2001), and a novel Call Me By Your Name (2007), which was chosen as a New York Times Notable Book of the Year and won the Lambda Literary Award for Men's Fiction (2008). His forthcoming novel Eight White Nights (FSG) will be published on February 14, 2010

Reviews

[snowplum · Rating 4 out of 5]

If you love music and sympathize with introspective and intelligent characters who think as much as they act (and often might wish they could act more than their anxieties allow them to), this book is a gem. I've read critiques that find the characters unrealistic -- too elitist, they "think too much," they imbue all sorts of moments with too much significance, and they fixate on tiny details that "no one" would care about. All I can say is these reviewers are not Aciman's people. But make no mistake -- Aciman is writing about certain real people and he is writing them brilliantly. There is some stunning prose in this book and I saw every single location taking shape, felt the heat of every fire, the snow on my eyelashes, was right there in the car for the drives along the Hudson... I loved this slow, introspective, honest, melancholy, hopeful look at desire. Bravo, Mr. Aciman.

[Cheryl · Rating 4 out of 5]

Aciman is a Proust scholar so it's not surprising that this work is so Proustian: a narrative of the human experience that occurs through slow accumulation of thoughts, sensory information and psychological awakenings. I read somewhere (maybe in an interview) that Aciman considers this his favorite book. If you've read Proust simply to enjoy the journey of meanders, then you'll enjoy this read. If you've read Dostoyevsky's White Nights, you'll appreciate a similar love story and inner restlessness of character. And if you've read any of Aciman's works, well you'd simply enjoy the craftsmanship that is his style. Simply put, don't read this if what you seek is conventional story structure. Although I wanted another ending, this is my fourth Aciman read and, as always, I was stunned by how he uses language to illuminate human nature, to showcase the loneliness of a man who wanders the city remembering his father and thinking constantly about a woman he's just met.



"Perhaps it was the state of a woman whose beauty could easily overwhelm you, but then, rather than withdraw after achieving its effect, simply lingered on your face and never let go till it read every good or bad thought it knew it would find and had probably placed there, straining the conversation, promising intimacy before its time, demanding intimacy as one demands surrender, breaking through the lines of casual conversation long before preliminary acts of friendship had been put in place, daring you to admit what she'd known all along: that you were easily flustered in her presence, that she was right, all men are ultimately more uneasy with desire than the women they desire."

Hello New York City: Strauss Park, 105th Street. Hello love and anxiety and fear and pain and restlessness all wrapped in a bow that secures two bottles of champagne for a new year's toast and a trip to see Eric Rohmer's films. Aciman had to be in love when writing this. In fact I couldn't help remembering pieces of Alibis: Essays on Elsewhere as I read this. This is a story of a man and woman who get to know each other over the course of eight white nights. It embraces the angst of not knowing when or if you're in love and, better yet, if the other person feels the same. The book itself is in eight sections. The story occurs in dialogue and in stream. You either read yourself (or your Ex) in these elongated thoughts, or you try to clear a path free of convolutions. Maybe both. You read and you're a therapist. You read and you're a participant. You read and you're disoriented. You read this and you want to find a city whose maze you know how to maneuver because it is your city, the city you knew once you knew love, the city that holds those kind of memories you want to relive.

[Dirk · Rating 5 out of 5]

I finished this book on an airplane and I cried. I recall once years ago finishing something on an airplane and crying. It was John Barth's Chimera, and when the suit next to me looked at me oddly, all I could do was mumble, “It was so beautiful." So, to forestall committing a spoiler, I want say I did not cry because the end was unhappy or happy, but because it was so emotional for me. Which brings us to the characters. The book recounts the relations between a 20-something going on 14 couple from their meeting on Christmas Eve to New Years Eve in wintery New York mostly on the upper west side around 106th St. Like Aciman's previous novel, Call Me By Your Name, it is about the relation between passion and the development of a sense of self. They are intelligent and educated. Scattered literary and musical allusions are primarily important to the couple, but not to the reader, the reverse of the practice in some modernist novels, say, Ulysses. The connection with Dostoyevsky's story Four White Nights is a little complicated, and I can't explain it without spoilers, but I suggest you read it first. They travel in affluent circles if they are not affluent themselves. They are Jewish, passionate, and neurotic. More than once I thought of giving up in disgust at heir self-defeating maneuvers. You want shake them and say, 'Come on, get it on or get over it'. One thing that helped me hang with them was knowing that Aciman is a noted Proust scholar and recalling that the neurotic obsessions of Swann and Marcel are ultimately meaningful. The sketches of several minor characters are full-bodied and engaging, particularly of the POV's parents and of an old couple that serve as surrogate family to the heroine. The couple bond, among many other ways by mutually caricaturing other characters, except the parental figures, in a self-centered and even mean-spirited way as people trying to define themselves often do. The dialogue is terrific, some of it might have wandered in from Oscar Wild. They develop between them, not a special language, but, again as people defining themselves by love do, an important special vocabulary. I happen to have once lived in that neighborhood, and evocation of New York is intense and winning. The writing is terrific; particularly the POV's eloquent and insightful self regard, no matter how neurotic. No one wants to compare to Proust, but like Marcel this unwise young man squeezes out a lot of wisdom eloquently.

[Kathy · Rating 3 out of 5]

I loved the chemistry between the couple and most of the writing, but this really could've done with 200 pages less.

[elise · Rating 1 out of 5]

I have no idea what I just read.

[Heather Mays]

50 pages in and I thought, "Why am I wasting time reading this drivel?"

[Jv · Rating 3 out of 5]

A character says of the narrator that he’s the most exasperating person she knows. True. The problem for me is that the novel also becomes exasperating, when not frustrating or simply alienating. Still, the novel has wonderful vivid moments and insights about desire and loss. My guess is that Aciman wrote precisely the book he intended to write, but this is not the book I wanted to read.

[Daniel Ballesteros-Sánchez · Rating 5 out of 5]

¡Pero qué necesidad de tanta belleza! 5/5, la mejor de Aciman que he leído hasta la fecha. Aquí va la reseña:

Ocho noches blancas es una obra de André Aciman que explora varios temas, de los que resalto el amor, la soledad y el deseo a través de la experiencia de un joven que se enamora profundamente en el contexto de una hermosa ciudad costera durante el invierno. La novela se enmarca en un entorno emocionalmente rico, donde el protagonista reflexiona sobre sus anhelos y la naturaleza efímera de los momentos de conexión.

La novela está organizada en una serie de secciones que se asemejan a las noches de un invierno, cada una representando una etapa en la relación del protagonista con su amor. Va del 24 al 31 de diciembre. La estructura fragmentada refleja la naturaleza en capas del deseo; cada sección añade matices a los sentimientos del protagonista, creando un ritmo melódico que invita a sumergirse en la narrativa.

Aciman emplea un estilo evocador y lírico, donde la prosa poética se entrelaza con los pensamientos introspectivos del protagonista, creando una atmósfera ensoñada que resuena con la sensación de anhelo. A medida que la historia avanza, el lector puede sentir la tensión creciente entre el deseo y la realidad, una lucha que es central para la experiencia emocional del protagonista.

Metatemas

Uno de los metatemas más prominentes en la novela es la dualidad entre el amor y la soledad. A pesar de la conexión intensa entre los personajes, el protagonista, en última instancia, se siente atrapado entre sus deseos y la realidad de su propia vida, lo que ilustra la complejidad de las relaciones humanas. La noción de tiempo también juega un papel crucial, con Aciman meditando sobre cómo el paso del tiempo puede intensificar el deseo, pero también puede llevar a la pérdida y a la nostalgia.

Otro metatema es la exploración de la identidad y el deseo. A través de su experiencia, el protagonista se embarca en un viaje de autodescubrimiento que resuena con muchos lectores que han experimentado el amor no correspondido o la lucha por aceptar sus propios deseos. La novela también toca las luchas culturales y sociales relacionadas con la identidad sexual, añadiendo una capa adicional de profundidad.

Elogio Ocho noches blancas por su tratamiento sensible y profundo del deseo y el amor en contextos complejos. Su enfoque es honesto e introspectivo sobre la identidad emocional y sexual.

La prosa de la novela es conmovedora, hermosa, te lleva como una balsa en marea tranquila. Su habilidad para capturar la esencia de la experiencia humana.

Para finalizar, resalto lo obvio:

Ocho noches blancas de André Aciman es un homenaje a Noches blancas de Fiódor Dostoievski. Ambas novelas comparten temas de amor, soledad y encuentros fugaces. Noches blancas de Dostoievski, publicada en 1848, es una historia corta que se desarrolla en San Petersburgo durante las “noches blancas” del verano, cuando el sol apenas se pone. La trama sigue a un joven soñador que se enamora de una mujer durante cuatro noches mágicas. Ocho noches blancas de Aciman, publicada en 2010, se sitúa en Nueva York durante la Navidad y el Año Nuevo, en pleno invierno. La historia sigue a Henry y Clara, quienes se conocen en una fiesta y pasan ocho noches explorando su relación en las frías calles de Manhattan. Ambas obras exploran la intensidad y la fugacidad de los encuentros románticos, así como la introspección y los sentimientos de los protagonistas. Blanco el verano o el invierno, blanco el deseo, blanco el final.

En resumen Ocho noches blancas es una obra maestra de André Aciman que logra entrelazar la belleza del deseo humano con la inevitable realidad de la soledad. A través de su estructura fragmentada y su prosa lírica, Aciman nos invita a reflexionar sobre nuestras propias experiencias con el amor y la conexión. Todo el tiempo me conecté con experiencias que fueron, y que ya no serán, porque creo firmemente que a los lugares donde se fue feliz no se debe regresar, y que la felicidad madura con el tiempo, toma otros rumbos.

La novela resuena no solo como una narración emocionalmente rica, sino también como un comentario cultural sobre el deseo y la identidad en un mundo en constante cambio. Sin duda, es una lectura obligada para quienes aprecian la profundidad emocional y literaria.

[Bob Garlitz · Rating 5 out of 5]

for Goodreads

Aciman, Our Apophatic Mystic

Over the past few weeks I’ve been catching up on the work of André Aciman.  The great memoir and three of the novels.  Started a fourth, Eight White Nights, earlier this week. 

I also found my new copy of Michael Sells book, Mystical Languages of Unsaying.  I had read some of the authors under discussion.  I had not realized that “The 150-year period from the mid-twelfth to the beginning of the fourteenth century constitutes the flowering of apophatic mysticism.  Almost simultaneously, the apophatic masterpieces of the Islamic, Jewish, and Christian traditions appeared . . . .” Such a short, intense cross cultural or intercultural period.  It made me wonder about apophatic forms of expression in our time.  I googled “apophatic novel” and up came, of course, the books by Charles Williams.  The Greater Trumps, Shadows of Ecstasy, War in Heaven, The Descent of the Dove.  I had read those years ago but had forgotten them.  I have long privately thought of Beckett’s works as explorations in negative theology.  I suppose there are many dissertations on the topic by now.  I would read Pessoa’s The Book of Disquiet this way. 

Day or so later I picked up a book of Aciman’s prose pieces.  A different voice in these than in the novels and it is the voice in the fictions that I love best.  But in the first few essays in False Papers I began to see how clearly Aciman is an apophatic writer.  “Exile” and “Memory” are in the subtitle and these words Aciman repeats endlessly in marvelously woven intricacies.  But it is desire, longing, that everything he talks about serves.  And look at these passages: 

“It was my way of preempting tomorrow’s worries by making tomorrow seem yesterday, of warding off adversity by warding off happiness as well.  In the end, I learned not to enjoy going to Paris, or even to enjoy being there--because I enjoyed it too much.”

“The Paris I cultivated was a Paris one need not stay too long in.  It was a Paris made to be yearned for and remembered, a Paris of the mind, a Paris which stood for the true life, the life done over, the better life, the one flooded in limelight, with tinsel, soundtrack, and costume.”

“I had long ago learned to prefer the imagined encounter, or the memory of the imagined encounter, to the thing itself.”

This is the basic pattern of all of Aciman’s writing---a saying and then an unsaying.  In Sell’s words “apophsis cannot help but posit . . . a ‘thing’ or ‘being,’ a being it must then unsay, while positing yet more entities that must be unsaid in turn.”  Aciman’s characters love and then lose and learn to unlove, whether a place like Alexandria or Paris, or a person, like Oliver who his love, Elio, asks to call him by his name.  Eight White Nights would be a great title for a mystical work, like The Cloud of Unknowing.  “what I was feeling was not just admiration . . . .  The word worship---as in ‘I could worship people like her’--hadn’t crossed my mind yet, though later that evening which I stood with her watching a glowing moonlight barge moored across the white Hudson I did turn to worship.  Because placid winterscapes lift up the soul and bring down our guard.  Because part of me was already venturing into an amorphous terrain in which a word here, a word there--any word, really---is all we have to hold on to before surrendering to a will far mightier than our own.”  (my emphasis)

I suppose there are already many dissertations in a university libraries on the apophatic tradition in Modernist and Post-Modernist literature.   Aciman is certainly our principal practitioner at this moment.  Yearning oscillates between the poles of every bridge, every love, every utterance, every saying and unsaying.  Memory, exile, love and loss sustain this longing, as with every mystic. 

posted Tuesday, February 7, 2017 on my blog chromenos.blogspot.com

I sent this to Aciman and he gracioulsy replied a few days later: part of his reply follows:

“I have been in print  for 20 years now and received some adulation, but never--i.e. NEVER--have  I felt that a reader understood me to the bone or so thoroughly as you did in your blog. You went straight to the soul of things--to use mystical language--because you got what I have elsewhere called the "soufflé" effect, the folding back and forth without necessarily arriving at any answer, a form of treading water, of floating but not swimming.  I can go on but it is the subject of what I hope will be a forthcoming collection of essays on various artists entitled Homo Irrealis, based on the irrealis mood, something that linguists call the indefinite mood in grammar.  Wikipedia has, I think, a damn good definition.

In any event, your have inspired me to get Pessoa and see what he
writes.  Thank you so much for ... well, thinking of me, thinking
about me.
André

[Patty · Rating 1 out of 5]

One of my worst reads in recent memory. No plot to speak of and characters were not particularly interesting or well-developed. Reading time was longer than "real time" in the story. Could not finish this one.

[theresa · Rating 1 out of 5]

a miserable, convoluted read. shemay be clara but boy was i BORED.

[EpidermaS · Rating 2 out of 5]

Nie lubię natki pietruszki, zapachu benzyny i facetów, którzy stanowią współczesną odmianę Wertera. Niestety, właśnie taki jest główny bohater "Ośmiu białych nocy". Na nieszczęście moje, a także - jak sądzę - wielu innych czytelników, jest on również narratorem powieści. Ten niespełna trzydziestoletni mężczyzna ma skłonności do nadmiernego analizowania, układania w głowie wizji przyszłych zdarzeń, używania górnolotnych sformułowań i konstruowania przeintelektualizowanych wypowiedzi - nawet, jeśli nigdy nie zostaną one wyartykułowane. Zakochuje się na zabój i umiera z miłości po kilku dniach znajomości, ale rozpaczliwie boi się odtrącenia, dookreślenia relacji lub doprowadzenia do czegoś więcej. Nie jest uchwytny pod telefonem, a jednocześnie godzinami przeżywa to, że obiekt jego westchnień się z nim nie kontaktuje (co, oczywiście, nie jest prawdą).

Skoro już przy "obiekcie westchnień" jesteśmy - po drugiej stronie mamy równie niestabilną osobę. Główna bohaterka bywa złośliwa i arogancka. Pozwala sobie na więcej, niż wynika to z norm społecznych. Manipuluje mężczyznami, wzbudza w nich zazdrość, mniej lub bardziej świadomie testuje ich na różnych polach. Ma jednak - wybaczcie wulgarność - więcej jaj niż główny bohater. Jest bardziej konkretna i rzeczowa, częściej nazywa rzeczy po imieniu.

Zetknięcie tych dwóch person nie wróży niczego dobrego dla czytelnika, zwłaszcza, że - jak już wspomniałam wcześniej - historię poznajemy z perspektywy głównego bohatera. Więcej dzieje się w jego głowie niż w istocie w rodzącej się między postaciami relacji. I nie, w tym przypadku nie jest to zaleta.

Przeczytałam do końca, ale z trudem. Nie polecam.

[Liina · Rating 3 out of 5]

Eight White Nights is like a Woody Allen movie without the humour and jittery. It takes place in Manhattan in the days between Christmas and new year. At a Christmas party, a nameless narrator meets a girl named Clara and the eight following days they meet every day to go to the movies, eat, drink and mostly talk.

It is a novel that I am sure many people will not enjoy as essentially nothing happens and the characters are super annoying. Aciman is a great fan of Rohmer movies and a Proust scholar and both of these influences show. It is to a great extent about the inner struggles that people face in the early stages of dating when they are treading carefully on unfamiliar territory. But here it is taken to a whole new level - the characters analyze everything to death and it becomes quite a bore. Especially as it does not seem to reach any conclusion but just keeps going in circles. It takes good writing to keep the reader interested in something like that for 360 pages.

But here is where the good writing makes up for the rather weak plot. Manhattan in winter, Christmas and new year is such a magical setting and Aciman has captured this ambience that we are all so familiar with from movies. And despite exhausting the subject he does well getting us into the head of a man who is falling in love and scared, insecure, crazy happy and anxious at the same time.

It is a very intellectual novel. I imagine most people not liking it and finding it incredibly boring and lagging but for those who find it right it is one of those rare treats that don't come across often.

[kasia · Rating 1 out of 5]

Dawno nie sięgnęłam po powieść, która irytowałaby mnie od początku, do niemal samego końca, gdzie zaskakujące nie były momenty słabe, a te powiedzmy, całkiem niezłe (policzalne na palcach jednej dłoni). Lubię metafory (i te prostsze i te bardziej skomplikowane występujące w różnych układach i gwiazdozbiorach) ale tu było ich za dużo, wciskane na siłę, najciaśniejszymi zakamarkami wkradające się w każde zdanie. Rozczarowałam się przeokrutnie, nie ratowały tego nawet wspominane wieczory z Rohmerem, dialogi pretensjonalne, tak samo myśli głównego bohatera. Chciałabym dać więcej, ale naprawdę, naprawdę nie mogę.

[Summer · Rating 2 out of 5]

There are many thoughtful and beautifully written parts in this book, but it rambles on endlessly. I like Aciman’s general style, but this was too dense with overthinking and over-describing.

[Sofia Thun]

Denna gick verkligen i perioder. Ibland tyckte jag om att läsa den men i slutet orkade jag nästan inte mer. Helt ärligt känner jag LESS IS MORE. Han tryckte in liknelse på liknelse på liknelse på metafor på metafor på metafor. Typical André Aciman I guess? Det blev liksom för flummigt och långdraget vilket hindrade en från att få flow.

Nu låter det som att den var jättejobbig hela tiden, så var absolut inte fallet!! Eftersom huvudkaraktären är en man som övertänker extremt mycket (vilket absolut ej går att missa då halva boken handlar om scenarion som inte ens utspelar i verkligenheten utan bara i hans hjärna) så finns där ett par igenkännande och fina meningar här och var. Det tog dock sin lilla tid att komma in i hans sätt att skriva. Något hade den iallafall som emellanåt gjorde att jag ville fortsätta läsa och drogs till den. Kanske var det bara julkänslan och miljöbeskrivningarna av ett snötäckt New York<333 I vilket fall var den unik och annorlunda, men till viss del lite komplex.

Om ni ska ta med er något är det iallafall att denna boken MÅSTE läsas på vintern !!❄️🩶

[Agnieszka Kalus · Rating 1 out of 5]

DNF
Pretensjonalne dialogi.
Sztuczne, nadęte, plastikowe postacie.

[L.E. Chamberlin · Rating 4 out of 5]

I know this isn't everyone's read. It just isn't. There's talking...so much talking. And there's a pathologically passive hero, and a heroine who is as much a fucked-up mess (if not more) than the hero, and a lot of in-the-weeds, nearly stream of consciousness dialogue and imagined dialogue. I can't even properly describe this book. I'm doing a terrible job of it. But it struck me in some strange, tender place and I trusted in André Aciman because he wrote one of my favorite books of all time, Call Me by Your Name.

Nothing much happens - and yet, everything happens. Yes, it's one of those. But I loved it.

[Azumi · Rating 4 out of 5]

La historia empieza en Nochebuena, y durante 8 noches y sus días el protagonista nos narra en primera persona todo su proceso de enamoramiento, con sus dudas, miedos, deseos, juegos, inseguridades, etc. Pero lo que me ha parecido más interesante es que está contado desde el punto de vista de un hombre, y eso para mí ha sido todo un acierto.

Además la prosa de André Aciman es preciosa y al igual que me pasó con "Llámame por tu nombre" me ha dejado encantada con sus palabras.

Me lo quería leer en 8 días, un capítulo por día, una noche por día, pero no lo he conseguido :-(

[Kasia]

Czekałam, aż wróci mi zapał do tej książki, ale chyba się nie doczekam. Andre Aciman, zachwycił mnie tym z jaką lekkością pisał o nie łatwym uczuciu w książce ,,Tamte dni, tamte noce". Tutaj to już jest przerost formy nad treścią. Podobno druga połowa jest trochę lepsza, ale chyba nie mam ochoty tego sprawdzać ;/

[Matthew Budman · Rating 2 out of 5]

André Aciman is an utterly charming man, and when he told me at a reading a couple of years ago that Eight White Nights is the best of his books, I absolutely believed him. But I gave up before page 100. It's unreadable. The entire first chapter—90+ pages—takes place in a single evening, meaning that one reads basically in real time, and not a word rings true. At a party, the narrator meets a striking woman and then deconstructs/examines/strategizes every moment of their encounter, at extraordinary length, as it happens, as though that's how human interactions work. In real life, the close reading of banter & glances occurs later; by contrast, in at least the first of this novel's eight white nights, time slows to a crawl as the narrator spends paragraphs unhurriedly picking apart each uttered sentence, laced with passages of poetic free association. And there's no payoff: The mysterious woman who inspires such brain freeze comes across as incredibly irritating. I can't take seven more nights, thanks.

[Amanda · Rating 1 out of 5]

I got this book as a goodreads first read. I figured it would be a great book seeing as others have raved over "Call Me by Your Name." I stated it the first night I got it. I cannot seem to get past the first night. This was my first romance novel and I completely disliked the book. I find a great annoyance to the character as he keeps obsessing over the girl he meets. He mentions her name a million times. Trying to convince himself of what "I am Clara" might mean. I handed it off to a friend in hopes that maybe he could give more perspective about the novel. I am sorry that I could not get past night one.

[Jan · Rating 1 out of 5]

Verbose, overblown, too full of itself. could have been an interesting story if it weren't smothered in descriptive "bobbing and weaving"

[Eda Darpe · Rating 5 out of 5]

typ det bästa jag har läst i år, den var helt underbar och perfekt. Skulle så väldigt gärna vilja rymma in i en Aciman-bok

[Bella Martinez · Rating 5 out of 5]

Whoa. That was a whirlwind, and I don't know how to feel.

First off, I know that this book isn't everyone's cup of tea. Not everyone wants to be trapped in the mind of a man whose thoughts move faster than a whirling dervish. But the beauty of Aciman's novel is that the protagonist thinks the same thoughts that everyone who has experienced love has thought, if maybe to a higher degree. There's pain and glee and heartbreak and beauty, all wrapped together, and trying to tease them apart does no good.

The name Clara has forever been changed for me. Aciman's book was one of the most engaging things I've read in a long, long time.

[Linda · Rating 1 out of 5]

This is a most annoying book. I guess it is supposed to be a steam of conciousness book, but the man is so limited in his thinking and the woman is strange to an exteme degree that it is almost not possible to continue reading the whole thing! There are a lot of very long sentences. I counted the words in one that was not even the longest and it had 179 words. That is just pretentious.

[PatriShaw · Rating 4 out of 5]

Leer esta maravilla en época Navideña se ha convertido en una tradición.
Ocho noche que la magistral pluma de Aciman convierte en blancas, aunque en realidad acaban siendo de Clara.
Con cada relectura le encuentro matices nuevos y me enamoro un poquito más.
Año tras año, sigue siendo una maravilla.

[Jay DeMoir · Rating 1 out of 5]

A snooze fest. Could barely get through the first night. I was annoyed by the main character constantly "I am Clara" as if he was groot from guardians of the galaxy . It was was annoying by him overusing the phrase. Everything seemed to just drag.

[Gail · Rating 1 out of 5]

After about 30 pages of this with the repeating of "who is Clara?" about 45 times, I decided it was not worth my time.

[Nadya]

soft dnf