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An intense book. If you started this book because you heard about the smut (or saw the movie with lots of skin), you will be disappointed.

What is really intense is all the misery, the misery of the family, the misery of this love that exists only in a grotesque parody, the misery of the boarding schools. Above all and defining all this, the misery of colonialism. Colonialism that heaps misery on the local people, but also onto the people sent there to "administer" that colony or who try to get their personal gain in this all and simply find their banal inconsequential life.

A lot of "stream of consciousness" writing. It took me a while to keep me from trying to "keep in mind" what exactly was happening and when, and instead let myself drift in the stream. I found the book to be ending on a slightly positive thought ... but honestly that could be disputed.

An intense book. If you started this book because you heard about the smut (or saw the movie with lots of skin), you will be disappointed.

What is really intense is all the misery, the misery of the family, the misery of this love that exists only in a grotesque parody, the misery of the boarding schools. Above all and defining all this, the misery of colonialism. Colonialism that heaps misery on the local people, but also onto the people sent there to "administer" that colony or who try to get their personal gain in this all and simply find their banal inconsequential life.

A lot of "stream of consciousness" writing. It took me a while to keep me from trying to "keep in mind" what exactly was happening and when, and instead let myself drift in the stream. I found the book to be ending on a slightly positive thought ... but honestly that point could be disputed.

Noticed this book in my feed. I've read it almost 20 years ago. Bought it in a bookshop in Panepistimiou street in Athens, and the image of the low table with stacks of books where it lay is still in my head.

I didn't like it completely. I remember it carried me on, but there was something deeply negative in the story.

"Niemals, wie es ihm erschien, war er im Wachen in der Lage gewesen, so zu denken und seine Gedanken so auszudrücken."

Can't get more classic than this ... judging from a short test read, this translation (by Samuel Butler) is excellent.

Wow... I'm done... incredible feeling. I might write a review, but a bit later. This was a crazy journey.

"- Ja ist das denn unbedingt nötig? - Ach, unbedingt! Er war bei uns. Nun, was kostet es dich? Du gehst vorbei, du setzt dich hin, redest fünf Minuten über das Wetter, stehst auf und gehst."

"An den Tod, von dem ihm so oft gesprochen wurde, glaubte Seryozha überhaupt nicht. Er glaubte nicht daran, dass die Menschen, die er liebte, sterben könnten und insbesondere nicht daran, dass er selbst sterben würde. Das war für ihn völlig unmöglich und unverständlich. Aber man sagte ihm, dass alle sterben würden; er fragte sogar Leute, denen er glaubte, und sie bestätigten es; Das Kindermädchen sagte es auch, wenn auch nur widerwillig. Aber Enoch ist nicht gestorben, daher sterben nicht alle. "Und warum kann denn nicht jeder auch vor Gott verdient sein und lebendig in den Himmel genommen werden?" - dachte Seryozha. Die Schlechten, das heißt, die, die Seryozha nicht mochte, könnten sterben, aber die Guten könnten alle wie Enoch sein."

I really liked the setup and the message of this book. Even the idea with the silver could be an interesting "visualisation" of the power dynamics of colonialism. But I don't know why, don't know if it's just me, but it seems all to be executed very superfluously to me. I don't feel people's feelings, don't get their motivation (apart from thinking that according to the plot, they are bound to have some). I'm stopping for now, maybe I'll get back to it later.