Novel.

First and last lines:
"This is the saddest story I have ever heard."
"She was quite pleased with it."

I looked for this book in second-hand bookshops for a while because my supervisor recommended it. Never finding it, said supervisor simply bought me a copy when he came to visit last month. I wanted to love it more because I was assured that I would so like it, but it's a difficult book to like. I could talk about it for ages with great passion I think, and yet I dislike it in so many ways. It reminds me of my experience reading [b:The Sound and the Fury|10975|The Sound and the Fury|William Faulkner|https://d202m5krfqbpi5.cloudfront.net/books/1391342582s/10975.jpg|1168289] in that we've got this male author and male narrators utterly obsessed with the sexuality of a female. Yes, he challenges Victorian/Edwardian ideas of feminine sexual desire, and I can see why people think that it's a breath of fresh air for that reason, but I still dislike the sense that a male mind cannot cease thinking about female sexuality even if he isn't conventional in his conclusions. I wanted to throw the book away from me for that reason. It was a good read in other ways, and I liked the way that the story unfolded, and it is a very fine piece of writing that, like I said, I could discuss at great length, and will do I am sure.

As an exercise in revealing an unreliable narrator, A+, though a short story might have sufficed to explore this. I kept reading because I am ever in love with Ford's striking prose. By the last page I was more than ready to be done with these poor repressed idiots! Let's see if I change my mind after watching the Granada adaptation starring Jeremy Brett ;)

This novel is shorter and more easily approachable than Parade's End, yet I feel like it must always suffer in comparison. Sure, there is similar social commentary on changing values in the Edwardian era. But Ford's modernist style is less developed and I missed the rich inner life of scholars Christopher and Valentine and the gritty world-building of wartime Europe.

4.5
a escrita é algo brilhante. sentimos no início uma conexão verdadeiramente íntima com o narrador, ele fala diretamente connosco, vêmo-lo assim como se fosse uma vítima imparcial e simpatizamos com ele, enquanto que, aos poucos e poucos, a nossa consciência é manipulada e apenas no fim nos apercebemos que ele é a encarnação das tragédias do livro. para ele todos são (de forma enganosa) honestos e puros. ele não sabe nada de nada, é inocente. cabe a nós decidir quem é o culpado do sofrimento apaixonado tão visível em cada personagem do livro…

I'm surprised I have never heard of this book before; I found it to be extraordinary. There's just a way the author has of gliding over the facts, then going back and reversing the impression you got the first time that really struck me. This is the epitome of an unreliable narrator, but at the same time he never actually lies, as far as I could tell. Even before you get to the subject matter, which I imagine has turned a lot of people off, this is a brilliant work.

I don't think the book aged well. All the "mistery" that was advertised was the main character rambling on and on about a load of inane things boring me out of my mind. I did not understood or liked any of the characters.