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Arlington Park
Ao longo de um único dia, o bairro de Arlington Park é o elegante cenário no qual as vidas de cinco mulheres vão ser expostas. Juliet, inconformada com o papel que o casamento lhe reservou; Amanda, cuja obsessão pelo trabalho doméstico esconde o seu lado mais sombrio; Solly, prestes a dar à luz o seu quarto filho; Maisie, que tenta desesperadamente aceitar a pacatez da sua nova vida longe de Londres; e Christine, a optimista, que se prepara para reunir as suas vizinhas num jantar cujo desfecho é absolutamente imprevisível.
Aparentemente, estas cinco mulheres têm tudo para serem felizes e, contudo, sentem-se manietadas pela frustração, os desejos reprimidos, o ódio e até a ocasional loucura. São esposas e mães que se refugiaram há muito num convencionalismo que as protege, principalmente da própria vida.
Com um estilo elegante e lúcido, Rachel Cusk, uma das escritoras mais prestigiadas do panorama literário internacional, construiu uma narrativa ambiciosa, que é um marco na literatura anglo-saxónica contemporânea.
Aparentemente, estas cinco mulheres têm tudo para serem felizes e, contudo, sentem-se manietadas pela frustração, os desejos reprimidos, o ódio e até a ocasional loucura. São esposas e mães que se refugiaram há muito num convencionalismo que as protege, principalmente da própria vida.
Com um estilo elegante e lúcido, Rachel Cusk, uma das escritoras mais prestigiadas do panorama literário internacional, construiu uma narrativa ambiciosa, que é um marco na literatura anglo-saxónica contemporânea.
238 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2006
196 people are currently reading
4541 people want to read
About the author
Rachel Cusk
60 books5,105 followersRachel Cusk was born in Canada, and spent some of her childhood in Los Angeles, before her family returned to England, in 1974, when Cusk was 8 years old. She read English at New College, Oxford.
Cusk is the Whitbread Award–winning author of two memoirs, including The Last Supper, and seven novels, including Arlington Park, Saving Agnes, The Temporary, The Country Life, and The Lucky Ones.
She has won and been shortlisted for numerous prizes: her most recent novel, Outline (2014), was shortlisted for the Folio Prize, the Goldsmith's Prize and the Bailey's prize, and longlisted for Canada's Giller Prize. In 2003, Rachel Cusk was nominated by Granta magazine as one of 20 'Best of Young British Novelists'
She lives in Brighton, England.
Cusk is the Whitbread Award–winning author of two memoirs, including The Last Supper, and seven novels, including Arlington Park, Saving Agnes, The Temporary, The Country Life, and The Lucky Ones.
She has won and been shortlisted for numerous prizes: her most recent novel, Outline (2014), was shortlisted for the Folio Prize, the Goldsmith's Prize and the Bailey's prize, and longlisted for Canada's Giller Prize. In 2003, Rachel Cusk was nominated by Granta magazine as one of 20 'Best of Young British Novelists'
She lives in Brighton, England.
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February 12, 2022
DESPERATE HOUSEWIVES
Attenzione: la trama è densa e ricca di colpi di scena.
E ho intenzione di spoilerarla.
C’è gente che guida la macchina, guarda oltre il finestrino, fa pensieri mentre cambia la marcia, parcheggia, scende, tira fuori il passeggino (è un piccolo mondo pieno di bambini questo intorno ad Arlington Park, la natalità è alta), gente che apre l’ombrello, entra in casa, appoggia le buste della spesa…
Ah, sì, stavo dimenticando il colpo di scena: alcuni vanno al supermercato, prendono carrelli, ci infilano i pargoli, si aggirano per i corridoi…
Emmanuelle Devos in “La vie domestique” di Isabelle Czajka, 2013, il film tratto dal romanzo della Cusk.
Per completare lo spoiler aggiungo che qui si racconta di donne: una, Juliet, lascia i figli piccoli all’asilo e tornando a casa si ferma da un parrucchiere, all’improvviso ha deciso di tagliarsi i capelli che porta lunghissimi da sempre.
Un’altra, Amanda, che era davanti alla stessa scuola, torna a casa, prepara il caffè e riceve quattro (cosiddette) amiche nella sua cucina esagerata.
Le (cosiddette) amiche se ne vanno e una di loro, Christine, guida fino allo shopping mall del paese accanto, in compagnia di altre (cosiddette) amiche, tra cui Maisie, che si è trasferita da poco ad Arlington Park, tranquillo sobborgo di Londra.
Solly (da Solange, la mamma amava i nomi alla francese, salvo poi pentirsi e rimediare con bizzarri diminutivi) decide di affittare una stanza. Arrivano studentesse da tutto il mondo, la prima un’orientale, l’ultima un’italiana, Paola, portano nelle casse di famiglia ottanta sterline alla settimana che sono benedette con tutti i marmocchi che abitano la casa.
Solly non sembra collegata alle altre, il suo capitolo è l’unico che rompe l’unità temporale (il resto del romanzo si svolge nell’arco di un’unica giornata), ma si fatica a notarlo, Cusk è brava a dare l’impressione che sia tutto collegato, tutto parte di una sola storia.
Nel pomeriggio Juliet, la prima che ci è apparsa, tiene un gruppo di lettura (Club Letterario è più chic) nella biblioteca della scuola privata dove insegna, e con le studentesse adolescenti parla di Emily Brontë – non che Cusk le metta in bocca illuminazioni su Cime tempestose.
Maisie è a casa coi bambini, il marito ritorna dal lavoro. Loro sono la coppia che si è trasferita a vivere ad Arlington Park di recente. Mettono a letto i bambini, si preparano per uscire, sono invitati a cena per le otto, arriva la babysitter… Per me, il capitolo più bello.
E infine la cena a casa di Christine, otto persone, quattro coppie. Ci sono Maisie e Juliet. Non c’è neppure bisogno che saltino troppi tappi perché l’insoddisfazione (femminile) serpeggi.
Isabelle Devos e i suoi figli in “La vie domestique” di Isabelle Czajka, 2013.
Sono donne sull’orlo, tutte nel corso dei loro trent’anni, insoddisfatte (mal di vivere o malattia borghese?), sentono i figli portar via loro la vita, rovinargliela (di conseguenza, ovvio, a loro volta rovineranno la vita dei figli). Quei figli che anni prima sono sembrati, con un marito e un matrimonio, il necessario completamento della loro esistenza. Così come era stato in precedenza per i loro genitori - e per i genitori dei loro genitori. Genitori che non li hanno avvertiti, guarda che la famiglia non è tutto, un marito un matrimonio e dei figli non sono necessariamente la tua realizzazione, la famiglia non è quel luogo pieno d’amore che sostiene babbo natale. Ma queste donne sono una generazione che apre gli occhi. Però, lo fa troppo tardi. Anche perché continuano a guardare e considerare una donna senza marito e senza figli incompleta, infelice.
L’azione è trasferita nei dintorni di Parigi invece che Londra e focalizza su una sola donna, Juliet/Juliette, interpretata da Emmanuelle Devos: nell’arco di una giornata dovrà recarsi a Parigi per un’importante opportunità di lavoro facendo l’equilibrista con le esigenze della vita domestica.
Le prima pagine sono dedicate alla descrizione della pioggia che si prepara durante la notte per poi esplodere all’ora dei risvegli e proseguire nella mattinata (poi, siccome siamo a Londra, torna il sereno, anche se per poco, la gente invade il parco, cammina corre e gioca nell’erba bagnata, si schizza di fango): pagine magistrali – la pioggia non è torrenziale, non è tsunami, ma Cusk sa renderla biblica usando la suspense, trasmettendo l’impressione che sia venuta a portare via, a lavare, a rigenerare. Ma sarà davvero così?
Non succede pressoché nulla.
Quel che succede è (semplicemente) la vita.
Quel che succede è la letteratura, la gioia primordiale della letteratura, e cioè: le cose di tutti i giorni, le cose di sempre scoperte di nuovo, come se fosse la prima volta, perché chi scrive sa presentarle come se fossero rigenerate e speciali, anche se in realtà sono quotidiane banali e scontate.
Questa è la magia della letteratura (dell’arte in genere). Questo è quello che riesce a fare Rachel Cusk: sa fermare l’attimo, sospenderlo, dilatarlo, trasformarlo in quello tra la vita e la morte anche se si tratta del gesto banale di pettinarsi.
Virginia Woolf? Sì, possibile. Per me, Rachel Cusk.
La famiglia era un luogo pericoloso in cui vivere: turbolento come il mare aperto sotto un cielo insidioso, con le sue alleanze mutevoli, le raffiche di cattiveria e bontà, le grandi onde battenti di malumore e mortalità, l’incessante alternarsi di calma e tempesta. Poteva arrivare un acquazzone o un raggio di luce rasserenante, ma alla fine non c’era più differenza; il significato degli avvenimenti scompariva, se paragonato alla necessità di farcela, di sopravvivere.
La serie TV, in Italia il titolo completato con “I segreti di Wisteria Lane”, otto stagioni dal 2004 al 2012.
Attenzione: la trama è densa e ricca di colpi di scena.
E ho intenzione di spoilerarla.
C’è gente che guida la macchina, guarda oltre il finestrino, fa pensieri mentre cambia la marcia, parcheggia, scende, tira fuori il passeggino (è un piccolo mondo pieno di bambini questo intorno ad Arlington Park, la natalità è alta), gente che apre l’ombrello, entra in casa, appoggia le buste della spesa…
Ah, sì, stavo dimenticando il colpo di scena: alcuni vanno al supermercato, prendono carrelli, ci infilano i pargoli, si aggirano per i corridoi…
Emmanuelle Devos in “La vie domestique” di Isabelle Czajka, 2013, il film tratto dal romanzo della Cusk.
Per completare lo spoiler aggiungo che qui si racconta di donne: una, Juliet, lascia i figli piccoli all’asilo e tornando a casa si ferma da un parrucchiere, all’improvviso ha deciso di tagliarsi i capelli che porta lunghissimi da sempre.
Un’altra, Amanda, che era davanti alla stessa scuola, torna a casa, prepara il caffè e riceve quattro (cosiddette) amiche nella sua cucina esagerata.
Le (cosiddette) amiche se ne vanno e una di loro, Christine, guida fino allo shopping mall del paese accanto, in compagnia di altre (cosiddette) amiche, tra cui Maisie, che si è trasferita da poco ad Arlington Park, tranquillo sobborgo di Londra.
Solly (da Solange, la mamma amava i nomi alla francese, salvo poi pentirsi e rimediare con bizzarri diminutivi) decide di affittare una stanza. Arrivano studentesse da tutto il mondo, la prima un’orientale, l’ultima un’italiana, Paola, portano nelle casse di famiglia ottanta sterline alla settimana che sono benedette con tutti i marmocchi che abitano la casa.
Solly non sembra collegata alle altre, il suo capitolo è l’unico che rompe l’unità temporale (il resto del romanzo si svolge nell’arco di un’unica giornata), ma si fatica a notarlo, Cusk è brava a dare l’impressione che sia tutto collegato, tutto parte di una sola storia.
Nel pomeriggio Juliet, la prima che ci è apparsa, tiene un gruppo di lettura (Club Letterario è più chic) nella biblioteca della scuola privata dove insegna, e con le studentesse adolescenti parla di Emily Brontë – non che Cusk le metta in bocca illuminazioni su Cime tempestose.
Maisie è a casa coi bambini, il marito ritorna dal lavoro. Loro sono la coppia che si è trasferita a vivere ad Arlington Park di recente. Mettono a letto i bambini, si preparano per uscire, sono invitati a cena per le otto, arriva la babysitter… Per me, il capitolo più bello.
E infine la cena a casa di Christine, otto persone, quattro coppie. Ci sono Maisie e Juliet. Non c’è neppure bisogno che saltino troppi tappi perché l’insoddisfazione (femminile) serpeggi.
Isabelle Devos e i suoi figli in “La vie domestique” di Isabelle Czajka, 2013.
Sono donne sull’orlo, tutte nel corso dei loro trent’anni, insoddisfatte (mal di vivere o malattia borghese?), sentono i figli portar via loro la vita, rovinargliela (di conseguenza, ovvio, a loro volta rovineranno la vita dei figli). Quei figli che anni prima sono sembrati, con un marito e un matrimonio, il necessario completamento della loro esistenza. Così come era stato in precedenza per i loro genitori - e per i genitori dei loro genitori. Genitori che non li hanno avvertiti, guarda che la famiglia non è tutto, un marito un matrimonio e dei figli non sono necessariamente la tua realizzazione, la famiglia non è quel luogo pieno d’amore che sostiene babbo natale. Ma queste donne sono una generazione che apre gli occhi. Però, lo fa troppo tardi. Anche perché continuano a guardare e considerare una donna senza marito e senza figli incompleta, infelice.
L’azione è trasferita nei dintorni di Parigi invece che Londra e focalizza su una sola donna, Juliet/Juliette, interpretata da Emmanuelle Devos: nell’arco di una giornata dovrà recarsi a Parigi per un’importante opportunità di lavoro facendo l’equilibrista con le esigenze della vita domestica.
Le prima pagine sono dedicate alla descrizione della pioggia che si prepara durante la notte per poi esplodere all’ora dei risvegli e proseguire nella mattinata (poi, siccome siamo a Londra, torna il sereno, anche se per poco, la gente invade il parco, cammina corre e gioca nell’erba bagnata, si schizza di fango): pagine magistrali – la pioggia non è torrenziale, non è tsunami, ma Cusk sa renderla biblica usando la suspense, trasmettendo l’impressione che sia venuta a portare via, a lavare, a rigenerare. Ma sarà davvero così?
Non succede pressoché nulla.
Quel che succede è (semplicemente) la vita.
Quel che succede è la letteratura, la gioia primordiale della letteratura, e cioè: le cose di tutti i giorni, le cose di sempre scoperte di nuovo, come se fosse la prima volta, perché chi scrive sa presentarle come se fossero rigenerate e speciali, anche se in realtà sono quotidiane banali e scontate.
Questa è la magia della letteratura (dell’arte in genere). Questo è quello che riesce a fare Rachel Cusk: sa fermare l’attimo, sospenderlo, dilatarlo, trasformarlo in quello tra la vita e la morte anche se si tratta del gesto banale di pettinarsi.
Virginia Woolf? Sì, possibile. Per me, Rachel Cusk.
La famiglia era un luogo pericoloso in cui vivere: turbolento come il mare aperto sotto un cielo insidioso, con le sue alleanze mutevoli, le raffiche di cattiveria e bontà, le grandi onde battenti di malumore e mortalità, l’incessante alternarsi di calma e tempesta. Poteva arrivare un acquazzone o un raggio di luce rasserenante, ma alla fine non c’era più differenza; il significato degli avvenimenti scompariva, se paragonato alla necessità di farcela, di sopravvivere.
La serie TV, in Italia il titolo completato con “I segreti di Wisteria Lane”, otto stagioni dal 2004 al 2012.
Want to read
October 31, 2024i love books about how weird it is to be a woman
September 12, 2018
What makes Cusk such a relevant and important writer are the many themes running through her books also run through our lives. She is holding a conversation with us about what we face as human beings in a changing world, leading us as though we are in a library literary club. The questions she raises are as difficult as life itself but it is not necessary we respond straight away. She’d prefer we went home first and think about what she has written.
Years ago I attended an early conference on Women in Literature. One of the books we discussed that day was Sarah Orne Jewett’s Country of the Pointed Firs. The main character was a young girl who expressed her moment of independence and discovery by climbing an enormous fir tree. Despite having been a sporty tomgirl all my life to that point, I said I found it difficult to conceive that a girl/woman would express her independence by such an act.
A grizzled white male emeritus professor there to make sure these women didn’t foment revolution scoffed “What else would she do? Bake a cake?” At that time I was sufficiently young to be embarrassed. I attempted to appease him with “no, no, of course not” while my cohort, older and more articulate women than I, quickly took up the gauntlet.
I recount this story because in fact, baking a cake—being in the kitchen at least—is exactly how the women in Cusk’s world discover the cracks in their lives and begin to assert their independence.
The final scene in this book is a dinner party, something Cusk reimagined and expanded upon in a later book Transit, the second of a trilogy of books using a new type of narrative structure. Readers are sure never to want to go to another dinner party in their lives after reading the bush fires these turn out to be.
The action in this book looks into the lives of several couples as they navigate one particular Friday. We are not surprised to see the strains between couples, and we aren’t really surprised to see the nosy attention paid to the kitchen expansion of one mother who'd invited a few moms for morning coffee after dropping the kids off at school. Other moms going in a group with their little ones to shop for clothes at a local mall are a chorus of catty compliments and confused despair. The day expands from there, breaking off to capture Solange, pregnant with her fourth, who rents out a bedroom to local foreign students.
Perhaps the best set piece is a description of the actual Arlington Park in the manner of Bruegel the Elder: each park visitor is painted in their individuality and their intent, even dogs, and we revel in the mad color and symphonic chaos of it. The choice of actors, the wash of rain on the pavement, the sound of crying children, barking dogs, running feet, shrieking teens—this is the fullness of Cusk.
Cusk does have something to say about marital love but mostly we watch, poleaxed, while these unappealing folks strain to live well in their comfortable distant suburb two hours west of London. Money and stature hasn’t really given them any special grace, but is a sort of blind into which they stumble, surprised to discover the payoff always was illusion, like the fronts of Arlington Park houses compared with the back. What they’d needed for the good life had been with them always; it had just needed to be excavated, nurtured, cherished.
In the final scene we go deep into the mind of the dinner party hostess, Christine Lanham. Events unfurl from her perspective, but the wine in her glass flows too freely for readers to lean too heavily on her say-so. Important questions are posed but left for the reader to answer. The characters in Christine’s world sound a lot like the ones in our own. Standing back and looking on might give us the perspective we need to be able to think…about all of it.
A new interview with Cusk by NewYorker staff writer Alexandra Schwartz has been published by Farrar, Strauss, & Giroux.
Years ago I attended an early conference on Women in Literature. One of the books we discussed that day was Sarah Orne Jewett’s Country of the Pointed Firs. The main character was a young girl who expressed her moment of independence and discovery by climbing an enormous fir tree. Despite having been a sporty tomgirl all my life to that point, I said I found it difficult to conceive that a girl/woman would express her independence by such an act.
A grizzled white male emeritus professor there to make sure these women didn’t foment revolution scoffed “What else would she do? Bake a cake?” At that time I was sufficiently young to be embarrassed. I attempted to appease him with “no, no, of course not” while my cohort, older and more articulate women than I, quickly took up the gauntlet.
I recount this story because in fact, baking a cake—being in the kitchen at least—is exactly how the women in Cusk’s world discover the cracks in their lives and begin to assert their independence.
The final scene in this book is a dinner party, something Cusk reimagined and expanded upon in a later book Transit, the second of a trilogy of books using a new type of narrative structure. Readers are sure never to want to go to another dinner party in their lives after reading the bush fires these turn out to be.
The action in this book looks into the lives of several couples as they navigate one particular Friday. We are not surprised to see the strains between couples, and we aren’t really surprised to see the nosy attention paid to the kitchen expansion of one mother who'd invited a few moms for morning coffee after dropping the kids off at school. Other moms going in a group with their little ones to shop for clothes at a local mall are a chorus of catty compliments and confused despair. The day expands from there, breaking off to capture Solange, pregnant with her fourth, who rents out a bedroom to local foreign students.
Perhaps the best set piece is a description of the actual Arlington Park in the manner of Bruegel the Elder: each park visitor is painted in their individuality and their intent, even dogs, and we revel in the mad color and symphonic chaos of it. The choice of actors, the wash of rain on the pavement, the sound of crying children, barking dogs, running feet, shrieking teens—this is the fullness of Cusk.
Cusk does have something to say about marital love but mostly we watch, poleaxed, while these unappealing folks strain to live well in their comfortable distant suburb two hours west of London. Money and stature hasn’t really given them any special grace, but is a sort of blind into which they stumble, surprised to discover the payoff always was illusion, like the fronts of Arlington Park houses compared with the back. What they’d needed for the good life had been with them always; it had just needed to be excavated, nurtured, cherished.
In the final scene we go deep into the mind of the dinner party hostess, Christine Lanham. Events unfurl from her perspective, but the wine in her glass flows too freely for readers to lean too heavily on her say-so. Important questions are posed but left for the reader to answer. The characters in Christine’s world sound a lot like the ones in our own. Standing back and looking on might give us the perspective we need to be able to think…about all of it.
A new interview with Cusk by NewYorker staff writer Alexandra Schwartz has been published by Farrar, Strauss, & Giroux.
September 22, 2013
You're taking the piss, aren't you Rachel? That was my first thought, when Rachel Cusk opened this novel with a 20-page description of rain falling. It didn't improve thereafter. Cusk is a great believer in telling, not showing, with lengthy descriptions of her characters' states of mind and past history.
And what characters! I hated all of them, and I am pretty sure Cusk does too. The novel is a prolonged rant against motherhood as experienced by the well-off. This was what grated with me. The relentless bitterness of these privileged women is wearing -- the phrase "First world problems" kept running through my head. If they had been living in tatty council flats, lacking the money to put in the meter, struggling to feed and clothe their families, their existential despair might be somewhat justified. But they are well-educated, wealthy women, with husbands who provide for their every need, living in a leafy suburb. They have choices. If you hate your kids so much, I thought, why don't you hire a flipping nanny and go back to that fulfilling, well-paid job you had before you got married? Instead of slumping about the house, boring yourself silly with coffee mornings, and whining to your husband when he gets back from work, does the washing up, and puts the children to bed? After a while the women merge into a single miserable character, although Christine does still stand out for her sheer obnoxiousness. The men are positive paragons in comparison.
I do have a certain amount of grudging respect for Cusk's writing ability -- the description of the shopping centre in particular is masterful -- and I somehow managed to finish it (with a lot of skimming), but I'm left wondering why she wrote this nasty little piece of work. If she needed to write it to get it out of her system, she should have shredded it when she'd finished. I can't put this on my "binned" shelf because I read it on the Kindle, but if I'd had a physical copy, it certainly would have gone in the bin.
Note: I read it because a friend is making a film of it! The thought is rather horrifying.
And what characters! I hated all of them, and I am pretty sure Cusk does too. The novel is a prolonged rant against motherhood as experienced by the well-off. This was what grated with me. The relentless bitterness of these privileged women is wearing -- the phrase "First world problems" kept running through my head. If they had been living in tatty council flats, lacking the money to put in the meter, struggling to feed and clothe their families, their existential despair might be somewhat justified. But they are well-educated, wealthy women, with husbands who provide for their every need, living in a leafy suburb. They have choices. If you hate your kids so much, I thought, why don't you hire a flipping nanny and go back to that fulfilling, well-paid job you had before you got married? Instead of slumping about the house, boring yourself silly with coffee mornings, and whining to your husband when he gets back from work, does the washing up, and puts the children to bed? After a while the women merge into a single miserable character, although Christine does still stand out for her sheer obnoxiousness. The men are positive paragons in comparison.
I do have a certain amount of grudging respect for Cusk's writing ability -- the description of the shopping centre in particular is masterful -- and I somehow managed to finish it (with a lot of skimming), but I'm left wondering why she wrote this nasty little piece of work. If she needed to write it to get it out of her system, she should have shredded it when she'd finished. I can't put this on my "binned" shelf because I read it on the Kindle, but if I'd had a physical copy, it certainly would have gone in the bin.
Note: I read it because a friend is making a film of it! The thought is rather horrifying.
Read
August 8, 2024#should I stay or should I go #7
GO!
DNF @35%
O primeiro capítulo de “Arlington Park” levou-me a achar que era desta que ia perceber o encanto, até agora inexplicável, que Rachel Cusk exerce sobre tantos.
Juliet é uma das mulheres mais zangadas que já vi em literatura, e com razão, depois do jantar com um homem execrável e condescendente.
-Você devia ter cuidado- disse ele, e Juliet percebeu até que ponto estava próxima do ódio de Matthew (...) –Você devia ter atenção ao que diz. Com a sua idade, facilmente começa a parecer histérica. –Ele limpou a boca com as costas da mão e olhou para Juliet como se ela estivesse nua. – O problema das mulheres como você é que não tiram partido das vossas qualidades.
E face à impassibilidade do marido ali presente, pensa:
Os homens são todos uns assassinos, pensou Juliet. Todos. Eles assassinam as mulheres. Pegam numa mulher e, pouco a pouco, assassinam-na.
Para minha decepção, este livro não é sobre Juliet, mas sobre um grupo de mulheres que vive num bairro fino dos subúrbios, com ligações ténues entre si e problemas variados, que vão beber café e fazer compras ao centro comercial enquanto se queixam e bisbilhotam.
Rachel Cusk continua a não ser para mim.
GO!
DNF @35%
O primeiro capítulo de “Arlington Park” levou-me a achar que era desta que ia perceber o encanto, até agora inexplicável, que Rachel Cusk exerce sobre tantos.
Juliet é uma das mulheres mais zangadas que já vi em literatura, e com razão, depois do jantar com um homem execrável e condescendente.
-Você devia ter cuidado- disse ele, e Juliet percebeu até que ponto estava próxima do ódio de Matthew (...) –Você devia ter atenção ao que diz. Com a sua idade, facilmente começa a parecer histérica. –Ele limpou a boca com as costas da mão e olhou para Juliet como se ela estivesse nua. – O problema das mulheres como você é que não tiram partido das vossas qualidades.
E face à impassibilidade do marido ali presente, pensa:
Os homens são todos uns assassinos, pensou Juliet. Todos. Eles assassinam as mulheres. Pegam numa mulher e, pouco a pouco, assassinam-na.
Para minha decepção, este livro não é sobre Juliet, mas sobre um grupo de mulheres que vive num bairro fino dos subúrbios, com ligações ténues entre si e problemas variados, que vão beber café e fazer compras ao centro comercial enquanto se queixam e bisbilhotam.
Rachel Cusk continua a não ser para mim.
February 16, 2022
A modern day Mrs. Dalloway, Cusk's novel Arlington Park weaves in and out of the lives of five upper middle class white women residing in this titular England community over the course of one day.
The distinguishing character trait of these five women is that they are all quite forgettable. They live perfectly ordinary lives in this suburb and seek solace in something to take them out of their joyless existence. For Juliet it's the one Friday afternoon each month when her husband picks the kids up from school and she leads teenage girls in book discussions at an on-campus Literary Society. Christine hosts dinner parties and puts together coffee dates, as well as goes shopping at the local mega-mall while the kids are at school. Solly and her husband rent a room in their house out to various people who spice up their life in some way.
In this novel, Cusk is examining something that, since this book's publication over 15 years ago, has been examined a lot and in similar ways. She's looking at money, class, race and gender, by satirizing and skewering the novel's own subjects: white women. While with Cusk there's always a degree of sympathy and moments of revelation for her characters, she's also making comments that seem to lampoon the very thing she's intrigued by.
Cusk's writing is superb. She's an expert at characterization in few words. Her imagery and point of view are strong in this novel. But at the end of the day, I can't help feel this novel lacked some substance in its message. It feels like an extremely well crafted exercise. Or perhaps it just didn't particularly resonate with me, so I am more prone to appreciate her craft rather than connect with the story in any deep way. Nonetheless, Cusk is always a pleasure to read and this novel was no exception. I found the first 50% particularly strong and was super engaged with the opening section about the rain. Then I found the narrative petered out a bit as we went along and somewhat fizzled at the end.
The distinguishing character trait of these five women is that they are all quite forgettable. They live perfectly ordinary lives in this suburb and seek solace in something to take them out of their joyless existence. For Juliet it's the one Friday afternoon each month when her husband picks the kids up from school and she leads teenage girls in book discussions at an on-campus Literary Society. Christine hosts dinner parties and puts together coffee dates, as well as goes shopping at the local mega-mall while the kids are at school. Solly and her husband rent a room in their house out to various people who spice up their life in some way.
In this novel, Cusk is examining something that, since this book's publication over 15 years ago, has been examined a lot and in similar ways. She's looking at money, class, race and gender, by satirizing and skewering the novel's own subjects: white women. While with Cusk there's always a degree of sympathy and moments of revelation for her characters, she's also making comments that seem to lampoon the very thing she's intrigued by.
Cusk's writing is superb. She's an expert at characterization in few words. Her imagery and point of view are strong in this novel. But at the end of the day, I can't help feel this novel lacked some substance in its message. It feels like an extremely well crafted exercise. Or perhaps it just didn't particularly resonate with me, so I am more prone to appreciate her craft rather than connect with the story in any deep way. Nonetheless, Cusk is always a pleasure to read and this novel was no exception. I found the first 50% particularly strong and was super engaged with the opening section about the rain. Then I found the narrative petered out a bit as we went along and somewhat fizzled at the end.
April 9, 2020
Rachel Cusk!! es increíble. Es como si se metiera en las células de eso conocido como "normalidad" y ve todo lo que hay. Tiene una manera de contar esa cotidiana, la de lo que me suena a un suburbio, que es increíble. Las vidas de varias mujeres, todas con hijos, amas de casa, con vidas supuestamente realizadas, pero que por dentro llevan mil frustraciones, resentimientos, preguntas, y algo de locura. Todo el tiempo tienes la sensación de que hay una bomba que está a punto de explotar. Una maravilla.
February 11, 2020
Arlington Park è un elegante sobborgo alla periferia di Londra.
Un romanzo corale, che ha come voci protagoniste quelle di più donne: Christine, Maisie, Juliet, Maggie, Amanda, Solly. Sembra che la sola realizzazione delle donne ad Arlington Park sia quella di essere delle perfette mogli, delle perfette donne di casa, senza alcuna aspirazione, il cui unico scopo è quello di stare al fianco del proprio marito per crescere e allevare figli.
Si entra pian piano nelle storie di queste famiglie, come se si fosse invitati a turno da una di loro per prendere il the. E dietro quest'apparente quadro di famiglia perfetta, della vita di ciascuna di loro, man mano che si conoscono, si sentono gli scricchiolii: le loro frustrazioni e insoddisfazioni, il loro essere esauste del ruolo che si vedono conferito.
E tutto il romanzo alla fine converge verso la cena organizzata da Christine, alla quale sono presenti solo quattro coppie. E ogni donna guarda al marito di una delle restanti coppie, come se la felicità fosse lì, a portata di mano, ma altrove, in un altro giardino, in un'altra casa. Su questa cena soffia un vento che ha il rumore dell’ineluttabilità, del tutto prestabilito, senza via di scampo, senza via di fuga:
"Il fatto è - disse - che siamo tutti così diversi, non trovi? Si può solo mantenere la rotta. Non si può fare altro, bisogna mantenere la rotta e non pensare troppo."
E quanto mi sono ritrovata nelle riflessioni di Christine: "Cos'era un uomo, infatti, se non una cosa ruvida contro cui strofinarsi per levigarsi la pelle? L'uomo doveva essere una cosa ruvida, scheggiata, solida e imperfetta, con la pelle spessa e abrasiva come la corteccia di un albero. La donna doveva sentirsi purificata dal contatto con l'uomo. Doveva affrontarlo e sentire l'attrito del conflitto, che la rimandava indietro liscia, pulita, levigata."
E alla fine Christine riconosce nel suo Joe il palcoscenico su cui si concentrava il suo mondo; quell'uomo, con cui ha scelto di trascorrere la vita e che per un momento aveva sentito che le stava andando stretto, è il suo uomo, colui che la fa sentire al sicuro, colui che è casa per lei. E quel "Vieni qui", laconico e disarmante, è così denso di amore e di tutto quello che c'è in una coppia, che è il più bel sipario con il quale si possa chiudere questo romanzo.
Rachel Cusk ha ereditato la bravura delle grandi narratrici inglesi, da Emily Brönte a Virginia Woolf.
E mi sono dovuta ricredere su di lei, dopo un inizio non molto felice con la lettura di Resoconto.
Trovo che sia molto brava.
Mi pare mi manchi da leggere un solo libro suo pubblicato in Italia e poi dovrei averla letta tutta.
Tra 4 e 5 stelle. Alla fine, scrivendo questa recensione, ho assegnato 5.
Un romanzo corale, che ha come voci protagoniste quelle di più donne: Christine, Maisie, Juliet, Maggie, Amanda, Solly. Sembra che la sola realizzazione delle donne ad Arlington Park sia quella di essere delle perfette mogli, delle perfette donne di casa, senza alcuna aspirazione, il cui unico scopo è quello di stare al fianco del proprio marito per crescere e allevare figli.
Si entra pian piano nelle storie di queste famiglie, come se si fosse invitati a turno da una di loro per prendere il the. E dietro quest'apparente quadro di famiglia perfetta, della vita di ciascuna di loro, man mano che si conoscono, si sentono gli scricchiolii: le loro frustrazioni e insoddisfazioni, il loro essere esauste del ruolo che si vedono conferito.
E tutto il romanzo alla fine converge verso la cena organizzata da Christine, alla quale sono presenti solo quattro coppie. E ogni donna guarda al marito di una delle restanti coppie, come se la felicità fosse lì, a portata di mano, ma altrove, in un altro giardino, in un'altra casa. Su questa cena soffia un vento che ha il rumore dell’ineluttabilità, del tutto prestabilito, senza via di scampo, senza via di fuga:
"Il fatto è - disse - che siamo tutti così diversi, non trovi? Si può solo mantenere la rotta. Non si può fare altro, bisogna mantenere la rotta e non pensare troppo."
E quanto mi sono ritrovata nelle riflessioni di Christine: "Cos'era un uomo, infatti, se non una cosa ruvida contro cui strofinarsi per levigarsi la pelle? L'uomo doveva essere una cosa ruvida, scheggiata, solida e imperfetta, con la pelle spessa e abrasiva come la corteccia di un albero. La donna doveva sentirsi purificata dal contatto con l'uomo. Doveva affrontarlo e sentire l'attrito del conflitto, che la rimandava indietro liscia, pulita, levigata."
E alla fine Christine riconosce nel suo Joe il palcoscenico su cui si concentrava il suo mondo; quell'uomo, con cui ha scelto di trascorrere la vita e che per un momento aveva sentito che le stava andando stretto, è il suo uomo, colui che la fa sentire al sicuro, colui che è casa per lei. E quel "Vieni qui", laconico e disarmante, è così denso di amore e di tutto quello che c'è in una coppia, che è il più bel sipario con il quale si possa chiudere questo romanzo.
Rachel Cusk ha ereditato la bravura delle grandi narratrici inglesi, da Emily Brönte a Virginia Woolf.
E mi sono dovuta ricredere su di lei, dopo un inizio non molto felice con la lettura di Resoconto.
Trovo che sia molto brava.
Mi pare mi manchi da leggere un solo libro suo pubblicato in Italia e poi dovrei averla letta tutta.
Tra 4 e 5 stelle. Alla fine, scrivendo questa recensione, ho assegnato 5.
Read
September 4, 2024I, like many, met Rachel Cusk via her Outline trilogy, and went back to this later out of curiosity about from whence she came.
While I have little contact with the outside world and its Chattering Classes, I can only assume that despite her immense talent, Rachel Cusk's stock is likely low with those who deplore her unfashionable bourgeois white feminism, which I can agree is an objectively boring thing. However, as a boring and unfashionable bourgeois white feminist, I certainly can relate to and appreciate many of her chosen themes. More to the point, Rachel Cusk writes like a motherfucker, or she anyway writes like a very cruel, terrifying, avenging and immortal goddess, and I am her helpless fan.
A lot of what was fun about this book for me was knowing that Rachel Cusk is over a decade older than I am. Her kids have already gone off to college! Hooray for her! Part of my own challenge here was fixating on that while also trying to separate out the development of her novels' characters over their life spans from the progression ("apotheosis" is surely too strong a word) of the writer herself, which did get me pretty confused.
The Rachel Cusk of Arlington Park is a much younger woman, and a much less formed writer, than the harsh and impermeable steely mistress of the Outline books. This novel contains frills and amusements and extraneous descriptions of weather, the sort of junior varsity pathetic fallacy moves that have you nod understandingly and root for the girl out there, trying her darned best. The characters in Arlington Park are similarly pathetic, and a fallacy, the kinds of rich, whiney domesticated ladies no one feels sorry for anymore.
This book is worth reading just for the contrast, because in her later work Cusk has completely excised out all of these frills and fat. In doing this, she draws an exacting but thrilling map of the way forward for a certain type of lady of a certain age: can all the whining and triviality be carved away, left as extraneous by the roadside, as we age and become harder, leaner, less funny and more dangerous and exacting, to stab right to the heart of it? Will all the snickering and jokes fall silent one day, like unneeded weight and accessories, leaving us carved and cold, nonnegotiable... finally... ultimately... having become (what I believe is known in today-ish's parlance as)... a Bad Bitch?
That was definitely my greatest takeaway from this book: that a Bad Bitch can come into existence --at least here as an artist, and hopefully too (for my own purposes) as a bitter post-menopausal bourgie mom-lady -- quite a bit later in life. Ultimately, even late in the game, with frivolity shed, tiresome complaints shaved and honed to lethal blades, a raw seriousness and its icy aesthetic can be achieved.
I hope that that's true!
If you are looking at this review trying to figure out whether to read Arlington Park, I'd want to spend a moment questioning your aims. As a mother in a tony suburb, I don't feel this book has aged especially well or spoken that meaningfully to the contemporary experience of what she's describing. However, if you happen to be completely obsessed with Rachel Cusk, which you should be, because she's fascinating and incredible, than obviously this could be fun and maybe even worthwhile to read. As a novel, it's okay.... Not that bad, not that good! Its main value is its unintended though powerful message that it is possible to move relatively swiftly from negligible to transcendent, and we all should hope that whatever it took Cusk to achieve that transcendence (spider bite? radiation exposure?) happens one day to us: that we harden, minimize, and look down to find we've become a Bad Bitch Ice Goddess who can describe the essentials of our experience using only the most perfect and necessary words.
While I have little contact with the outside world and its Chattering Classes, I can only assume that despite her immense talent, Rachel Cusk's stock is likely low with those who deplore her unfashionable bourgeois white feminism, which I can agree is an objectively boring thing. However, as a boring and unfashionable bourgeois white feminist, I certainly can relate to and appreciate many of her chosen themes. More to the point, Rachel Cusk writes like a motherfucker, or she anyway writes like a very cruel, terrifying, avenging and immortal goddess, and I am her helpless fan.
A lot of what was fun about this book for me was knowing that Rachel Cusk is over a decade older than I am. Her kids have already gone off to college! Hooray for her! Part of my own challenge here was fixating on that while also trying to separate out the development of her novels' characters over their life spans from the progression ("apotheosis" is surely too strong a word) of the writer herself, which did get me pretty confused.
The Rachel Cusk of Arlington Park is a much younger woman, and a much less formed writer, than the harsh and impermeable steely mistress of the Outline books. This novel contains frills and amusements and extraneous descriptions of weather, the sort of junior varsity pathetic fallacy moves that have you nod understandingly and root for the girl out there, trying her darned best. The characters in Arlington Park are similarly pathetic, and a fallacy, the kinds of rich, whiney domesticated ladies no one feels sorry for anymore.
This book is worth reading just for the contrast, because in her later work Cusk has completely excised out all of these frills and fat. In doing this, she draws an exacting but thrilling map of the way forward for a certain type of lady of a certain age: can all the whining and triviality be carved away, left as extraneous by the roadside, as we age and become harder, leaner, less funny and more dangerous and exacting, to stab right to the heart of it? Will all the snickering and jokes fall silent one day, like unneeded weight and accessories, leaving us carved and cold, nonnegotiable... finally... ultimately... having become (what I believe is known in today-ish's parlance as)... a Bad Bitch?
That was definitely my greatest takeaway from this book: that a Bad Bitch can come into existence --at least here as an artist, and hopefully too (for my own purposes) as a bitter post-menopausal bourgie mom-lady -- quite a bit later in life. Ultimately, even late in the game, with frivolity shed, tiresome complaints shaved and honed to lethal blades, a raw seriousness and its icy aesthetic can be achieved.
I hope that that's true!
If you are looking at this review trying to figure out whether to read Arlington Park, I'd want to spend a moment questioning your aims. As a mother in a tony suburb, I don't feel this book has aged especially well or spoken that meaningfully to the contemporary experience of what she's describing. However, if you happen to be completely obsessed with Rachel Cusk, which you should be, because she's fascinating and incredible, than obviously this could be fun and maybe even worthwhile to read. As a novel, it's okay.... Not that bad, not that good! Its main value is its unintended though powerful message that it is possible to move relatively swiftly from negligible to transcendent, and we all should hope that whatever it took Cusk to achieve that transcendence (spider bite? radiation exposure?) happens one day to us: that we harden, minimize, and look down to find we've become a Bad Bitch Ice Goddess who can describe the essentials of our experience using only the most perfect and necessary words.
March 18, 2022
"Queria protegê-la. Queria atravessar-se no caminho dela. Queria escudá-la, defendê-la da bala de uma vida banal."
April 29, 2024
POV you’re a housewife trapped in English suburbia, feeling as if you’re the only one who hates in there. In reality everyone is miserable and no one’s having a good time.
October 2, 2025
Being a major Cusk fan this one is personally one of the lesser of her works that i’ve read. Although i greatly appreciate the mrs dalloway concept of it, i didn’t seem as entranced as i usually am with her other books. It touches a lot on her usual ideas of relationships, patriarchy, class, and purpose, but it felt much less compelling. Not sure where to pin point where it went wrong, but maybe it was that rather than using the mundane to highlight reflections it sort of clouded over the novel and lacked connection to the characters. Nonetheless I still understand where she was going with it and its overall intentions. An easy read with some more dramatics rather than poetics.
October 4, 2022
“she saw herself always animated by a nameless dissatisfaction: it had filled her out, like the wind fills out a sail, and propelled her along while she did her best to steer a course. She didn’t know exactly where she was going, just that it was necessary to remain in motion while avoiding outright disaster.”
I read this book for our October bookclub discussion. The author was born in Canada to English parents, then spent some time in the US before the family returned to England. This novel is a contemporary domestic drama that looks at a day in the life of five different women living in upper middle class suburban England. It was shortlisted for The Orange Prize for fiction in 2007.
The story is essentially a scathing examination of the daily minutiae of the life of entitled white women in the suburbs. It is cleverly written, perspicacious and cutting but somewhat depressing. Some refer to it as Mommy lit, although I feel it would act as a fairly good deterrent to this lifestyle and could possibly be prescribed as a contraceptive.
The book shifts between different perspectives and scenes. Amanda hosts a morning tea for the school mums and their toddlers at her pristine house with white couches and decor with predictable results. Another group of mothers go shopping at a soulless mall, listening to banal advice on how to cover their unsightly bulges. Juliet tries to escape the monotony of her life and find inspiration and a return to her aspirations of brilliance by sharing Wuthering Heights with a group of uninspired teenage girls. Solly is pregnant with her fourth child and rents her spare room out to overseas students whose lives she finds more intriguing than her own rather beige existence. Maisie finds herself disillusioned and overwhelmed by the untidiness of her kitchen and possibly the smallness of her life. Christine hosts a dinner and struggles to hoist herself up the social ladder from her working class roots.
The novel shines a spotlight on the existential crises of a group of privileged women and their distinctly first world problems. Cusk writes brilliantly in a way that makes some of the characters seem very familiar, with their racism, self-absorption, obnoxious children, materialism and passive brand of feminism. Their husbands vary from the right-wing bigot type, to the ethereal, nice guy model who looks the part but just doesn’t quite get it.
Her writing is wise and vivid. Even the womens’ relationships to their homes and cleaning is analyzed. “She was so accustomed to feel the presence in herself of a power of renewal that she had been slow to sense that it was no longer there; that she now existed on a kind of loop or circuit that took her round the same places and brought her back again and again to the same things. It was not defiance but inability that explained her failure to impose herself on the kitchen: an appetite for cleanliness and order, for things to be cleared away so that they could be begun again, was simply no longer a desire she visited on her circuit.” Or, “She felt entombed, unprotestingly, in the untidiness of the house: it was draped over her like a shroud with no openings for her arms and legs, so that when she walked around it or reached out to touch it she felt a kind of dragging following movement, and a sense of amputated numbness.”
This book is worth reading as a cynical and sagacious study of modern suburban life, but don’t expect positivity or inspiration!
I read this book for our October bookclub discussion. The author was born in Canada to English parents, then spent some time in the US before the family returned to England. This novel is a contemporary domestic drama that looks at a day in the life of five different women living in upper middle class suburban England. It was shortlisted for The Orange Prize for fiction in 2007.
The story is essentially a scathing examination of the daily minutiae of the life of entitled white women in the suburbs. It is cleverly written, perspicacious and cutting but somewhat depressing. Some refer to it as Mommy lit, although I feel it would act as a fairly good deterrent to this lifestyle and could possibly be prescribed as a contraceptive.
The book shifts between different perspectives and scenes. Amanda hosts a morning tea for the school mums and their toddlers at her pristine house with white couches and decor with predictable results. Another group of mothers go shopping at a soulless mall, listening to banal advice on how to cover their unsightly bulges. Juliet tries to escape the monotony of her life and find inspiration and a return to her aspirations of brilliance by sharing Wuthering Heights with a group of uninspired teenage girls. Solly is pregnant with her fourth child and rents her spare room out to overseas students whose lives she finds more intriguing than her own rather beige existence. Maisie finds herself disillusioned and overwhelmed by the untidiness of her kitchen and possibly the smallness of her life. Christine hosts a dinner and struggles to hoist herself up the social ladder from her working class roots.
The novel shines a spotlight on the existential crises of a group of privileged women and their distinctly first world problems. Cusk writes brilliantly in a way that makes some of the characters seem very familiar, with their racism, self-absorption, obnoxious children, materialism and passive brand of feminism. Their husbands vary from the right-wing bigot type, to the ethereal, nice guy model who looks the part but just doesn’t quite get it.
Her writing is wise and vivid. Even the womens’ relationships to their homes and cleaning is analyzed. “She was so accustomed to feel the presence in herself of a power of renewal that she had been slow to sense that it was no longer there; that she now existed on a kind of loop or circuit that took her round the same places and brought her back again and again to the same things. It was not defiance but inability that explained her failure to impose herself on the kitchen: an appetite for cleanliness and order, for things to be cleared away so that they could be begun again, was simply no longer a desire she visited on her circuit.” Or, “She felt entombed, unprotestingly, in the untidiness of the house: it was draped over her like a shroud with no openings for her arms and legs, so that when she walked around it or reached out to touch it she felt a kind of dragging following movement, and a sense of amputated numbness.”
This book is worth reading as a cynical and sagacious study of modern suburban life, but don’t expect positivity or inspiration!
June 10, 2022
Cusk valami elképesztően jó hangulatfestő és miliőteremtő, szinte plasztikusak az írásai, ez teljesen nyilvánvaló volt az Outline-trilógia kapcsán is. Főszereplői itt is nők. Rengeteg magány, megfelelési kényszer, kitörési vágy, önmaguk keresése, öntudatra ébredés, útkeresés és lemondás van benne, mindez egy képzeletbeli, London-közeli lakóparkban. Nem egészen értem az egészen alacsony értékeléseket*, ugyanis ez a regény (ami inkább novellafüzér) nagyon jó.
Esik az eső ezen a regénybeli napon és az élet pontosan olyan monoton az Arlington Park-ban, amilyennek azt az ember elvárja. A szereplőknek folyamatosan szembesülniük kell önmagukkal, az életükkel, annak minőségével, és azzal, hogy mi az ami nem működik, mi az amin változtatni kellene, és mi az amin nem akarnak vagy nem tudnak. Valójában az összes dilemma függőben marad, nem derül ki, mi lesz a lezárása egy-egy revelációnak, de ez egyáltalán nem baj. Így sokkal tovább velem marad a kötet, a szereplői, akik közül talán Juliet és Amanda története a legmegragadóbb. Vajon mi történt Juliettel, akit lassan, de biztosan elpusztít egy férfi? Mi történt Amandával és a világ legnagyobb, legkihasználatlanabb konyhájával, a magányával és az agyonszabályozott életével, a tisztaságmániájával?
Az Arlington Park igazi dallowayizmus, szereplői mindannyian anyák, háziasszonyok, feleségek és többé-kevésbé mind ugyanazokkal a problémákkal küzdenek. Mindannyian az értelmet keresik ebben az egész értelmetlenségben és kilátástalanságban, Cusk pedig iszonyatosan okosan ír róluk. A hangulatot már említettem, de muszáj még egyszer visszatérnem rá: ha nem szerepelnének modern eszközök a szövegben, akkor akár a viktoriánus Angliában is járhatnánk. Az idősíkokkal szintén brilliánsan bánik, talán csak a könyv közepén kezd derengeni a sok lassulás, gyorsulás és váltás közepette, hogy ez egy, egyetlen nap története.
Nagyon kár, hogy nincsen magyar fordítása, aki tud angolul, olvassa, hiszen Cusk vitán felül egy olyan író, akit olvasni kell.
* Valójában nagyon is értem az alacsony értékeléseket. Akikben nincs elég empátia, mások a tapasztalataik vagy úgy gondolják, hogy az anyaság csupa rózsaszín cukormáz, azok (legalábbis az értékelések szerint) nagyjából sértve érzik magukat Cusk nézőpontja olvastán. Ezzel nem tudok mit kezdeni.
Esik az eső ezen a regénybeli napon és az élet pontosan olyan monoton az Arlington Park-ban, amilyennek azt az ember elvárja. A szereplőknek folyamatosan szembesülniük kell önmagukkal, az életükkel, annak minőségével, és azzal, hogy mi az ami nem működik, mi az amin változtatni kellene, és mi az amin nem akarnak vagy nem tudnak. Valójában az összes dilemma függőben marad, nem derül ki, mi lesz a lezárása egy-egy revelációnak, de ez egyáltalán nem baj. Így sokkal tovább velem marad a kötet, a szereplői, akik közül talán Juliet és Amanda története a legmegragadóbb. Vajon mi történt Juliettel, akit lassan, de biztosan elpusztít egy férfi? Mi történt Amandával és a világ legnagyobb, legkihasználatlanabb konyhájával, a magányával és az agyonszabályozott életével, a tisztaságmániájával?
Az Arlington Park igazi dallowayizmus, szereplői mindannyian anyák, háziasszonyok, feleségek és többé-kevésbé mind ugyanazokkal a problémákkal küzdenek. Mindannyian az értelmet keresik ebben az egész értelmetlenségben és kilátástalanságban, Cusk pedig iszonyatosan okosan ír róluk. A hangulatot már említettem, de muszáj még egyszer visszatérnem rá: ha nem szerepelnének modern eszközök a szövegben, akkor akár a viktoriánus Angliában is járhatnánk. Az idősíkokkal szintén brilliánsan bánik, talán csak a könyv közepén kezd derengeni a sok lassulás, gyorsulás és váltás közepette, hogy ez egy, egyetlen nap története.
Nagyon kár, hogy nincsen magyar fordítása, aki tud angolul, olvassa, hiszen Cusk vitán felül egy olyan író, akit olvasni kell.
* Valójában nagyon is értem az alacsony értékeléseket. Akikben nincs elég empátia, mások a tapasztalataik vagy úgy gondolják, hogy az anyaság csupa rózsaszín cukormáz, azok (legalábbis az értékelések szerint) nagyjából sértve érzik magukat Cusk nézőpontja olvastán. Ezzel nem tudok mit kezdeni.
October 31, 2017
The publisher describes Arlington Park as a novel, but this feels more like a series of related short stories. Some of them are better than others. I've heard this novel categorized as Mommy Lit. I imagine few things might discourage one from being a Mommy more than believing the stories in this book. The same goes for marriage.
Ms. Cusk offers a scathing commentary on "married with kids" in the suburbs. If this book was not written so well and occasionally offered up some brilliant satire, I could have easily rated it three stars. However, if Ms. Cusk had done more to focus the reader on some narrative and developed her characters, it could also have been rated higher. As it is, I'd say four stars is a bit on the generous side. If so-called Mommy Lit is not your thing, I wouldn’t reach for this novel. If you enjoy Mommy Lit, some of the stories in here are worth your time, especially the ones at the beginning and end.
Warning: If you’re dead set on marriage, kids, and the suburbs and would prefer not to be dissuaded, I suggest avoiding this book. But if you’re trying to convince your spouse to stay in the city and figure out a way to get by with the cost of housing and education, this book may be just the thing to push him/her over the edge and avoid the bedroom communities.
Ms. Cusk offers a scathing commentary on "married with kids" in the suburbs. If this book was not written so well and occasionally offered up some brilliant satire, I could have easily rated it three stars. However, if Ms. Cusk had done more to focus the reader on some narrative and developed her characters, it could also have been rated higher. As it is, I'd say four stars is a bit on the generous side. If so-called Mommy Lit is not your thing, I wouldn’t reach for this novel. If you enjoy Mommy Lit, some of the stories in here are worth your time, especially the ones at the beginning and end.
Warning: If you’re dead set on marriage, kids, and the suburbs and would prefer not to be dissuaded, I suggest avoiding this book. But if you’re trying to convince your spouse to stay in the city and figure out a way to get by with the cost of housing and education, this book may be just the thing to push him/her over the edge and avoid the bedroom communities.
May 13, 2020
Ainda não percebi muito bem o que se passa entre mim e Rachel Cusk. Gosto dos seus livros, leio tudo sem saltar parágrafos, nunca me aborreço (o que não é difícil), mas falta-me sempre algo. Talvez porque as personagens e enredos (se assim se podem chamar) dos romances de Cusk se restrinjam demasiado ao lado enfadonho da vida real.
Arlington Park não varia muito da trilogia Outlander; histórias de mulheres e das suas vidas familiares pouco interessantes.
Arlington Park não varia muito da trilogia Outlander; histórias de mulheres e das suas vidas familiares pouco interessantes.
October 26, 2023
Много фин и интелектуален поглед върху живота на жената в едно средностатистическо предградие на Лондон. Авторката ни потапя в ежедневието на няколко “отчаяни съпруги”, чийто фокус и център е раждането, отглеждането и възпитанието на деца, приготвянето на вечеря и усмивките пред съседите. Без това да е непременно тяхно желание и много често да ги води до тиха лудост.
Напоследък чета доста такива истории и все повече се убеждавам колко наболяла е темата за социалните роли в обществото ни, за очакванията, които се изсипват на главата на жената след като роди и стане майка, което непременно трябва да е сбъдване на всичките и мечти. Преди няколко дни в офиса до кафе машината колега ме попита как съм и естествено опряхме до това кой къде, как и защо развежда децата и в един миг се усетих как казвам, че ги обожавам, обаче много ме дразнят. В първия момент дамата ме погледна малко странно, но след това се замисли и потвърди…
Страшно много ми хареса стила на Рейчъл Къск и ми се иска да видим още нейни книги на български.
Мисля си че “I am only happy when it rains” на Garbage би била чудесно допълнение към прочита на романа. Книгата е идеална за мрачен и дъждовен неделен ден, в който да помислим за ролята на жената в съвременноото общество и че това да си “мама” не е задължително да изчерпва света ти и не е непременно осмисляне на цялото ти съществуване.
Много ми допадна една реплика на Шарлот от последните епизоди на “And just like that”, насочена към децата и и ще завърша с нея - “I was a person before you!”
Напоследък чета доста такива истории и все повече се убеждавам колко наболяла е темата за социалните роли в обществото ни, за очакванията, които се изсипват на главата на жената след като роди и стане майка, което непременно трябва да е сбъдване на всичките и мечти. Преди няколко дни в офиса до кафе машината колега ме попита как съм и естествено опряхме до това кой къде, как и защо развежда децата и в един миг се усетих как казвам, че ги обожавам, обаче много ме дразнят. В първия момент дамата ме погледна малко странно, но след това се замисли и потвърди…
Страшно много ми хареса стила на Рейчъл Къск и ми се иска да видим още нейни книги на български.
Мисля си че “I am only happy when it rains” на Garbage би била чудесно допълнение към прочита на романа. Книгата е идеална за мрачен и дъждовен неделен ден, в който да помислим за ролята на жената в съвременноото общество и че това да си “мама” не е задължително да изчерпва света ти и не е непременно осмисляне на цялото ти съществуване.
Много ми допадна една реплика на Шарлот от последните епизоди на “And just like that”, насочена към децата и и ще завърша с нея - “I was a person before you!”
February 18, 2019
Non ho trattato bene questo libro, l'ho letto in troppo tempo, alternandolo con altri cui ho regolarmente finito per dare la precedenza, e ho perduto il filo. Tra l'altro è, più che un romanzo, un insieme di racconti legati dal luogo in cui si svolgono, così perdere il filo mi è stato particolarmente facile.
Fatto sta che, se adesso dovessi dire che cosa penso di Arlington Park, dovrei raccontare che mi sono scocciata molto a leggere di queste signore complessivamente parecchio fortunate (hanno un bel po' di soldi, sono in buona salute sia loro che i loro figli, abitano in un sobborgo elegante) che hanno tutte molto da lamentarsi delle loro vite, a causa di: un marito idiota; un marito non idiota ma preso da interessi che loro non condividono; un marito che ha assecondato la scelta della moglie di lasciare la città per il sobborgo (non sapeva, il tapino, che sua moglie avrebbe cambiato idea nel giro di un minuto); dei figli che - sorpresa, sorpresa - a tre o quattro anni sono capricciosi e per niente indipendenti.
C'è però un episodio bellissimo, quello in cui una signora di Arlington Park, meno benestante di altre, affitta una stanza di casa, e incontra così una giovane signora italiana dalla cui vita rimane affascinata, senza una vera ragione. La signora italiana è riservata ma parla volentieri con la sua ospite, di cui ha colto la solitudine. Il loro rapporto pieno di reciproci riguardi non diventa una vera e propria amicizia, ma fa bene - credo - ad entrambe, ed a me è piaciuto molto.
Fatto sta che, se adesso dovessi dire che cosa penso di Arlington Park, dovrei raccontare che mi sono scocciata molto a leggere di queste signore complessivamente parecchio fortunate (hanno un bel po' di soldi, sono in buona salute sia loro che i loro figli, abitano in un sobborgo elegante) che hanno tutte molto da lamentarsi delle loro vite, a causa di: un marito idiota; un marito non idiota ma preso da interessi che loro non condividono; un marito che ha assecondato la scelta della moglie di lasciare la città per il sobborgo (non sapeva, il tapino, che sua moglie avrebbe cambiato idea nel giro di un minuto); dei figli che - sorpresa, sorpresa - a tre o quattro anni sono capricciosi e per niente indipendenti.
C'è però un episodio bellissimo, quello in cui una signora di Arlington Park, meno benestante di altre, affitta una stanza di casa, e incontra così una giovane signora italiana dalla cui vita rimane affascinata, senza una vera ragione. La signora italiana è riservata ma parla volentieri con la sua ospite, di cui ha colto la solitudine. Il loro rapporto pieno di reciproci riguardi non diventa una vera e propria amicizia, ma fa bene - credo - ad entrambe, ed a me è piaciuto molto.
June 17, 2024
updating my rating to 5 stars because i still think about this book all the time
once again i find that i enjoy rachel cusk’s standalone books more than the outline trilogy! arlington park follows a group of women in a suburb of london throughout the course of one day, culminating in a dinner party where they all come together. the women are all wives and mothers struggling with their positions in life, and in that i felt a lot of the themes from aftermath and a life’s work shining through. while it portrays their struggles with domesticity in a very real way, rachel cusk is also critiquing the incredible privilege of these women despite their unhappiness. each character has a different level of empathy for people that are less fortunate than them, and we see cusk’s critiques through the interactions and clashes that result from these differing opinions.
what really stands out to me in this book, however, is the rich imagery that cusk masterfully creates. there is a scene at a shopping mall that is so detailed that it feels like you’re actually there. the messy bedrooms of the children are built up, toy-by-toy, mess-by-mess, so that you can see the rooms in your mind. these descriptions do such a great job at demonstrating how the world these families live in is so mundane yet so excessive at the same time, due to their class and status. it feels like cusk’s writing is less restrained here than in the outline books, so lively and almost playful, and it’s so enjoyable to read.
once again i find that i enjoy rachel cusk’s standalone books more than the outline trilogy! arlington park follows a group of women in a suburb of london throughout the course of one day, culminating in a dinner party where they all come together. the women are all wives and mothers struggling with their positions in life, and in that i felt a lot of the themes from aftermath and a life’s work shining through. while it portrays their struggles with domesticity in a very real way, rachel cusk is also critiquing the incredible privilege of these women despite their unhappiness. each character has a different level of empathy for people that are less fortunate than them, and we see cusk’s critiques through the interactions and clashes that result from these differing opinions.
what really stands out to me in this book, however, is the rich imagery that cusk masterfully creates. there is a scene at a shopping mall that is so detailed that it feels like you’re actually there. the messy bedrooms of the children are built up, toy-by-toy, mess-by-mess, so that you can see the rooms in your mind. these descriptions do such a great job at demonstrating how the world these families live in is so mundane yet so excessive at the same time, due to their class and status. it feels like cusk’s writing is less restrained here than in the outline books, so lively and almost playful, and it’s so enjoyable to read.
January 27, 2010
This is a tricky one.
I picked it up because I liked the cover and I liked the idea of seeing snapshots of the lives of people who live in the same area. I didn't realize I'd be getting a manifesto on domestic life. That said, it's a beautifully written manifesto, and I can see why Cusk was listed as one of Granta's young authors to watch.
The tricky part of the novel is that it examines the tedium of the women's lives; four women who are housewives, trapped on Arlington Park with husbands they don't feel connected to, watching children they sometimes resent, and so on. The writing itself is beautiful but at the same time crafted (or I'll give her the benefit of the doubt and assume) to make you feel the frustration, the deep depression, that the subjects feel.
It's an interesting little novel, perhaps not quite what a 30something single girl should read if at all questioning the benefits of marriage, but still a decent read.
(Oh, and if anyone can explain the very last paragraph and tell me what they think happens between her and her husband next in the scene, I would appreciate it!!)
I picked it up because I liked the cover and I liked the idea of seeing snapshots of the lives of people who live in the same area. I didn't realize I'd be getting a manifesto on domestic life. That said, it's a beautifully written manifesto, and I can see why Cusk was listed as one of Granta's young authors to watch.
The tricky part of the novel is that it examines the tedium of the women's lives; four women who are housewives, trapped on Arlington Park with husbands they don't feel connected to, watching children they sometimes resent, and so on. The writing itself is beautiful but at the same time crafted (or I'll give her the benefit of the doubt and assume) to make you feel the frustration, the deep depression, that the subjects feel.
It's an interesting little novel, perhaps not quite what a 30something single girl should read if at all questioning the benefits of marriage, but still a decent read.
(Oh, and if anyone can explain the very last paragraph and tell me what they think happens between her and her husband next in the scene, I would appreciate it!!)
February 27, 2014
No, just no. Run far away. The summary sounded good enough for a library book on tape to listen to while commuting, but this was rubbish. 10 minutes describing falling rain or people in a park? It was so tedious that I almost gave up several times and once actually said out loud "thank god" at the end of a CD. The entire book was way too drawn out and overly descriptive to get to a point that could have been summed up in one page. I kept hanging on because I didn't have another book on tape in the car and because I was hoping (incorrectly) that something interesting would happen when all the characters got together for the dinner party. This made me seriously depressed about being middle class and married and the future of a family.
November 24, 2007
Let me just start by saying that Cusk's prose is practically perfect--every sentence is poetic and eloquent and fraught with purpose and meaning. Although she depicts one side of motherhood (the mind-numbingly boring, annoying, miserable side), she fails to accurately capture the complicated nuances of it overall, which in turn, made me like her writing less and less as the book wore on so that by the end, I thought, "Whew--finally I'm done with all of these horrid characters." I wanted to like this book more than I did, but I found that I didn't care about any of the characters or see the point of it and was only relieved to be finished so that I could move on from the narrow, miserable existence that was Arlington Park. I appreciated the beauty of Cusk's writing--and her courage in saying something very honest and different about motherhood, but did not enjoy the book.
May 18, 2009
If you're looking for a spot-on skewering of middle-class life in Britain, this is your book - a meditation on a loosely connected group of men and women all living in the fictional suburb of Arlington Park. It's bleak, and much of the narrative is mapped out through the internal monologues of key characters as they try to figure out what on earth they're doing living where they are, doing what they do. They're self-absorbed, depressed, casually racist, passively feminist, and unable to communicate by turn. The best chapters, for me, were those dealing with Christine, a completely unlikeable, grasping woman who wants to move up the social ladder from the working class position into which she was born. I recognized her, and she stood for so much that I dislike, and I couldn't help but marvel at how well she'd been captured even as I hoped I would never meet her ilk ever again. So how's that for a recommendation - very clever writing that will allow you to hate the people you read about?
The worst parts of the book were, for me, those set in the park - the first chapter, and another, half-way through. Each was meant to set the scene, to draw a picture of Arlington Park as a suburb, but I found the prose clunky and repetitive, the observations dull. In contrast, the dialogue scenes really took on a life of their own - it's like the best and worst of this writer caught in one slim novel.
The worst parts of the book were, for me, those set in the park - the first chapter, and another, half-way through. Each was meant to set the scene, to draw a picture of Arlington Park as a suburb, but I found the prose clunky and repetitive, the observations dull. In contrast, the dialogue scenes really took on a life of their own - it's like the best and worst of this writer caught in one slim novel.
February 17, 2022
some scattered thoughts:
1) the chapter about the shopping centre was insufferable but looking back i think that was the point so cusk is incredible for making me hate it that much
2) understanding certain characters/elements of this book (eg: christine, joe, dave) as satirical devices/vessels for social commentary allows you to truly appreciate the level of genius cusk achieves
3) yes, she’s undoubtedly adding to the ever abundant pile of books that capture a white-centric experience but her serrated awareness of the privilege inherent to this is reflected through her writing and makes it a valuable piece of work (imo!)
-
“And it was so hard to tolerate the intrusion of time”
-
“You’ve got to love life, she said blearily, you’ve got to love just - being alive.
But how will anyone know you loved it?”
1) the chapter about the shopping centre was insufferable but looking back i think that was the point so cusk is incredible for making me hate it that much
2) understanding certain characters/elements of this book (eg: christine, joe, dave) as satirical devices/vessels for social commentary allows you to truly appreciate the level of genius cusk achieves
3) yes, she’s undoubtedly adding to the ever abundant pile of books that capture a white-centric experience but her serrated awareness of the privilege inherent to this is reflected through her writing and makes it a valuable piece of work (imo!)
-
“And it was so hard to tolerate the intrusion of time”
-
“You’ve got to love life, she said blearily, you’ve got to love just - being alive.
But how will anyone know you loved it?”
July 1, 2025
A escrita é acima da média, mas a narrativa pouco mais é do que um retrato de mulheres e respetivas famílias a viverem de forma infeliz nos subúrbios de Londres. Não acontece grande coisa e não consegui perceber qual a mensagem que Rachel Cusk quis transmitir. Ainda assim, fico curiosa por ler outras coisas da autora.
May 28, 2012
We all understand that you never know what goes on behind your neighbors’ curtains, right? We’ve learned this from relationships, novels and every Lifetime TV movie ever made. We got it. The yards in the neighborhood might be beautifully groomed, the car in the driveway the latest model, the children all smiles at the bus top but peel back the veneer and voila! The seamy underbelly of suburbia. This is the territory that Rachel Cusk covers in her novel, Arlington Park.
Have you read anything by Ms Cusk? She has the surgeon’s skill of cutting away and cutting away until the entire tumor is exposed and it serves her well in Arlington Park. Cusk dissects the lives of four women who are far from old but whose youth is gone. They are all wives and mothers. Over the course of day, Cusk's plot illustrates the varying states of unhappiness, paralysis, nursing slights and general discontent of her characters. Arlington Park is where those whose dreams have always included an element of being “on the way up” discover the emotional cost of that life.
Cusk writes with uncompromising honesty about her characters. Yes she opens that older than dirt curtain idea but that is only her first step in dissecting the relationships, choices, home lives and society of her women. Arlington Park is not a feel good novel of friendships tested among disparate women while they chew the fat over endless cups of tea. It’s a much darker story about not always likable people by a very talented writer
Have you read anything by Ms Cusk? She has the surgeon’s skill of cutting away and cutting away until the entire tumor is exposed and it serves her well in Arlington Park. Cusk dissects the lives of four women who are far from old but whose youth is gone. They are all wives and mothers. Over the course of day, Cusk's plot illustrates the varying states of unhappiness, paralysis, nursing slights and general discontent of her characters. Arlington Park is where those whose dreams have always included an element of being “on the way up” discover the emotional cost of that life.
Cusk writes with uncompromising honesty about her characters. Yes she opens that older than dirt curtain idea but that is only her first step in dissecting the relationships, choices, home lives and society of her women. Arlington Park is not a feel good novel of friendships tested among disparate women while they chew the fat over endless cups of tea. It’s a much darker story about not always likable people by a very talented writer
July 13, 2025
It’s crazy to me how different this is from the "Outline" trilogy, and that difference makes me feel more respect for Cusk’s growth as a writer. Parts of "Arlington Park" are pretty genius, and it’s always great to read things tackling the stagnancy and insidiousness of heteronormativity, suburbia, etc. That being said, wow this could have been edited down a ton. There are SO many over-fluffed similes, repetitive phrases and musings, dense paragraphs that feel like they just go on and on forever sometimes. At times it felt like it was trying so hard to be profound. Seeing where Cusk’s writing was here makes her later work shine, to the point where I’m probably gonna bump my 3 star rating of Outline up to a 4.
October 8, 2012
Brilliant. Fast becoming one of my favorite writers. This one deals with a group of people living in a fictional suburb in England - Arlington Park - and their lives over the course of one day. No-one captures the minutia of the stresses of day to day life and the struggles and compromises of being a parent and a spouse like Cusk. There are some great characters in this, some obnoxious mums and awful right wing husbands, petty snobberies and the whole awfulness of a trip to the soulness local mega mall is captured beautifully. It has its sympathetic moments as well, some poignant parts that are very moving.
February 21, 2017
Les réflexions de ces quatre femmes que l'on rencontre dans le roman transcendent le quotidien de mère au foyer. L'écriture est tellement sensible et réfléchie qu'elle nous imprègne de ce sentiment de mal être des personnages. Elle nous apporte aussi à réfléchir sur l'être humain vs vie de couple vs vie en communauté vs société capitalisme etc. et que petit à petit dans cette ascension, il perd de son authenticité. Mais au profit de quoi? C'est triste mais en même temps universel comme réflexion et aussi nécessaire.
November 11, 2025
3.5, I am an avid Cusk fan, but her earlier novels don't speak to me as vividly as her newer works and her non-fiction. The sheer anger and ennui of living as a mother in middle-class England that Cusk portrays here is powerful, not to mention the underlying themes on the role of gender in the family life. The sort of book that makes mundane things feel deeply meaningful and yet turns what is generally perceived as meaningful into nothingness.
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