Tokyo is unreal. It‘s the amped-up, neon-spewing cyber-city of literature and film... A colossal mega-city devoid of crime, grime, and bad food? Sounds more like a utopian novel than an earthly metropolis. But Tokyo is real. And it is so unlikely, even up close, that it is magic.
If you haven‘t read War and Peace but intend to one day, don‘t read this book. It just spoiled the ending of W&P for me. So, thanks for that, Gaddis.
panI know a lot of people liked this, but I got absolutely nothing out of it. It reminded me why I hate self-help books so much. It‘s not going to tell you anything you don‘t already know. It merely serves to remind you of things you may have forgotten but are not revolutionary nuggets of knowledge. This book also screams “Asian Ivy League privilege,” so don‘t go into it thinking it‘s a one-size-fits-all deal.
panSuper old school. And super French. Biggest paint points: 1) the book‘s unbearably glacial pace and 2) too much French.
To those who also get excited when seeing city skylines, Z. Z. Packer sees you: “Her insides jumped when she saw the skyline. She tried to figure out why it hit her so hard. They were just buildings. But in each one, someone worked, someone sang, someone complained... The buildings breathed and exhaled possibilities; that was why a skyline like this one could stop your heart.... as [it] seemed to whisper, ‘You too are possible.‘”
“I knew how one eventually accustoms oneself to the physical world‘s lack of sympathy: the buses that are still running late, the kids who play in the street, the clock that won‘t stop ticking for the person who‘s gone.”
Edit: after the first story, I felt this book had great promise, and I hyped it up in my original review. But it fell so short of expectations—so much so that I had to completely rewrite this. This just called for too much reading between the lines that I wasn‘t willing to do. Also very much disliked how EVERY story ended on a, “... That‘s... it?” note. Probably more my fault than the author‘s writing, though. Just couldn‘t do it.
pickJust finished East of Eden and realized that this book ends on a mic drop/“daaaaaaaaayum” moment. This is the pinnacle of Steinbeck—nay, American lit. (Sorry Sam Clemens.) You definitely need to have some patience with it since it doesn‘t necessarily have a super concrete plot. But man, is this ever the type of book that makes you pause after finishing it, hold it and its heft in two hands, stare at the cover and go, “...... Whoa.”
Hate cannot live alone. It must have love as a trigger, a goad, or a stimulant.
Once Adam had remarked on the quiet splendor of Lee‘s clothes, and Lee had grinned at him. “I have to do it,” he said. “One must be very rich to dress as badly as you do. The poor are forced to dress well.”
I know that sometimes a lie is used in kindness. I don‘t believe it ever works kindly. The quick pain of truth can pass away, but the slow, eating agony of a lie is never lost.
pickBite-sized nuggets of the foremost philosophers of the western world! So easy to read, so easy to understand, so easy to love.
pickThe kind of book that you can revisit at many stages in your life, and you‘ll take away something new from it each time.
We have only one story. All novels, all poetry, are built on the never-ending contest in ourselves of good and evil. And it occurs to me that evil must constantly respawn, while good, while virtue, is immortal. Vice has always a new fresh young face, while virtue is venerable as nothing else in the world is.
