Books
(Private Entry)
Original: German | Read in: German
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While browsing the library, I came across a book that immediately caught my eye. I briefly flipped through it and found it pretty intriguing. Then I glanced at the title, which, admittedly, left a bad feeling in my gut. I brushed it off and told myself I’d find something similar that was more clearly meant for my target audience. After realising that no other proper book was available, I put it back, disheartened. But the thought of it wouldn’t quit. I kept thinking about it all week, almost obsessively, until I finally went back to the library and checked it out. And I found myself pleasantly surprised.
From the first to the last day I spent reading it, I would finish dozens, even over a hundred, pages in a single sitting, completely losing track of time, which is rare for a non-fiction book. Especially in the beginning, I caught myself laughing every other page at the sheer absurdity of certain passages, such as: "Go to the children's service at your church. Bring a hammer and nails with you. Then ask the kids who would like to play Jesus." (p. 332).
I was glad to not to have judged it, as the age-old saying goes, by the cover alone. While it could have gone deeper into certain topics, the overall approach felt fitting for what the book set out to be; a gentle pat on the back that says, "You’ve got this."
The reason I listed this book as a private entry is because, admittedly, it felt a little embarrassing to read. I couldn’t even bring myself to open it in the library while people were walking behind me. It wasn’t exactly explicit or scandalous, but it was the kind of book you’d rather laugh with in private than explain to a stranger glancing over your shoulder.
"Lick me. – I can't. Anatomically impossible. The other way around too. Unfortunately."
Der Prozess (1925) - Franz Kafka
Original: German | Read in: German
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TBD
"TBD"
Les Mauvaises Notes (1997) - Claire Julliard
Original: French | Read in: French / German
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My French teacher assigned us a book for a project and gave us a list of options. After reading the synopsis of Les Mauvaises Notes, and noticing that no one else had chosen it, I decided to pick it. I first read the student version, which included German explanations of grammar and vocabulary, and later read the French original edition. Both versions were impossible to find, so I had to buy them second-hand from France. I had low expectations at first, but from the very first page, I knew I was in for a rollercoaster.
Frédéric’s internal monologue is terribly powerful and remarkably realistic for his age. The protagonist's sheer honesty with himself gave him a voice like no other: "I'm a fraud. Everyone here thinks I'm Robinson Crusoe, and I'm sick, I'm sick, I'm sick and tired of perpetuating this lie. [...] That's my problem. I'm surrounded by good people, while I'm a bad person. I'm a bad person because I hurt everyone. All this just to show off and make myself look interesting." (Frédéric Legendre, p. 107). Even Ludovic, who haunts the narrative, feels fleshed out despite his absence, simply through what Frédéric learns about him.
I finished the book within two days on both read-throughs, constantly finding excuses to continue. I was so moved that I delayed my project just to read it again. The story surprised me with its emotional intensity and unflinching depiction of difficult topics. My only complain is that the book isn't 200 pages longer, because I would've given anything to see what happened before and what came after. The bittersweet ending left me with the same feeling as climbing into a warm bed with fresh sheets after a long shower. Pure relief and exhaustion, but deeply satisfying.
After finishing the book, I was inspired to draw the characters. I also later found out that the author is a psychology graduate and a teacher, which certainly explained quite a bit. I’ve read the book twice now, and would absolutely read it again someday.
"Adults are always in a bad mood. Or sad. Or tired. They can't stand each other. They don't have any friends. They argue. Always about financial problems. And even when they have money, they're not happy. Besides, they have awful faces. I hate them. I'll never become like them. God, please don't let me become like them. [...] At the same time, I'm tired of being a kid. Everyone thinks they can do whatever they want with you. Especially since I'm nice. And I'm not a kid anymore. I'm twelve years old, after all."
Les Daltons (Vol. 1: 2017) | (Vol. 2: 2019) - Olivier Visonneau, Jesús Alonso
Original: French | Read in: German
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I first came across the comic Les Daltons while browsing the comics section of my local library. It caught my eye immediately. Having never really read a Western comic before, I picked it up on a whim and didn’t expect much. But as I turned the pages, I was mesmerized by the artwork, and the story wasn't too bad either.
While it was a fine story overall, some scenes were so absurd they made me burst out laughing, such as: "You can say that again, man! Just the right weather to warm yourself up between the fat thighs of a Mexican whore." (Grattan Dalton, vol. 1, p. 18). I took a short break after starting it, but I quickly devoured the rest of the first volume and then the second in one sitting. By the time I finished, I felt satisfied, like after enjoying a good, homemade meal. A simple, light read that left a pleasant impression.
Later, I ended up buying the volumes myself. I spent time examining each page, appreciating the artistry and attention to detail. I had known the Daltons were a real gang, but only after finishing the comic did I learn it was an adaptation of their true stories. Reading up on them afterward, I was delighted to discover photographs taken after their capture, real images that the comic had directly referenced. Later on, the comics inspired some of my own artwork as I tried to imitate its fantastic artstyle.
"Leave my leg where it is, Doctor. I've already had enough taken from me."
ゴールデンカムイ | Golden Kamuy (2014) - 野田サトル | Satoru Noda
Original: Japanese | Read in: English
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TBD
"TBD"
Blood Meridian (1985) - Cormac McCarthy
Original: English / Spanish | Read in: English / Spanish
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Review
| 1/5 | 2/5 | 3/5 | 4/5 | 5/5 | |
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| Immersion | X | ||||
| Characters | X | ||||
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| Readability | X | ||||
| Hangover | X | ||||
| Re-Read | X | ||||
| Recommend | X |
Having already read several of McCarthy's novels and thoroughly enjoyed them, I was excited to start what many consider not only his magnum opus, but also one of the greatest works of American historical literature: Blood Meridian. My expectations were high, and the book met them perfectly. Somewhat stupidly, I had discovered a five-hour video essay on the novel that I was desperate to watch but refused to touch until I had finished the book. As a result, it sat in my "watch later" playlist for over a year before I finally allowed myself to press play.
McCarthy's style is undeniably challenging, and there were moments where I found myself blanking entirely. This is not a book one can fully grasp on a first read. The sensory richness, however, was overwhelming. Certain scenes felt awfully vivid and oppressive. The members of the gang, as immoral and impossibly violent as they are, felt disturbingly human. Several moments caught me completely off guard, such as: "Glanton looked down toward the north. He looked down at the judge. You ain’t seen my dog, have ye? he said." (p. 168) and "Toadvine saw him with the child as he passed with his saddle but when he came back ten minutes later leading his horse the child was dead and the judge had scalped it. Toadvine put the muzzle of his pistol against the great dome of the judge's head. Goddamn you, Holden." (p. 173) Despite everything. Despite the sheer brutality and the gory violence that occurs only pages earlier, moments of sudden empathy emerge. The hypocrisy of it all made the characters feel strangely alive, and, admittedly, made me spiral. The kid, the novel's protagonist, felt deeply present despite how little he speaks. And the judge… oh, the judge was something else entirely. I was horrified, to say the least. After all, he was said to be the devil himself at the very beginning of the book, which I never came to doubt.
I first began reading the novel over a year ago but stopped partway through. When I picked it up again later, the same thing happened. This was due to personal circumstances rather than any fault of the book itself. Once I finally committed to reading it properly, however, I made steady progress through the rest of the novel. After finishing it, I analysed it extensively, examining everything from its meaning and history to the judge's philosophical sermons. Even then, I doubt I fully grasped even a fraction of it.
Surprisingly, I didn’t have much of a reaction to the ending. I felt numb. Confused yet deeply unsettled. Unsure of what to think, I closed the book and let out a long exhale. Blood Meridian is absolutely a novel I want to re-read, only then do I believe I’ll truly begin to understand it.
"He never sleeps, the judge. He is dancing, dancing. He says that he will never die."