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A fera na selva
O livro traz uma das mais bem-acabadas ficções de Henry James. Uma história aparentemente comum sobre os encontros e desencontros entre John Marcher e May Bartram. Eles passaram os dez anos que se seguiram ao dia em que se conheceram sem notícias um do outro, até se reencontrarem ocasionalmente em Londres. Ele tem vagas lembranças sobre as circunstâncias do primeiro contato, mas May lembra-se de tudo, inclusive de uma confissão feita por Marcher. Ele revelara-lhe viver em constante angústia à espera de um evento "raro e estranho" que mudaria sua vida. May decide, então, aguardar o "ataque da fera" ao lado de Marcher. O projeto gráfico acompanha a evolução da narrativa. À medida que a espera torna-se mais dramática, a gramatura das páginas do livro aumenta, as tonalidades do papel escurecem e o espaço entre as linhas do texto diminui. A interpretação do texto pelo projeto gráfico é uma marca da Coleção Particular, da qual este é o terceiro título. Os dois volumes anteriores são Bartleby, o escrivão, de Herman Melville, e O primeiro amor, de Samuel Beckett. A tradução, feita por José Geraldo Couto, procurou respeitar a "dificuldade" do texto, mantendo intacta a riqueza de suas frases densas e parágrafos longos, de sua sintaxe por vezes intrincada. A edição, que faz parte das comemorações dos dez anos da Cosac Naify, traz ainda posfácio do professor Modesto Carone, que fornece valiosas chaves de interpretação.
96 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1903
280 people are currently reading
4961 people want to read
About the author
Henry James
4,599 books3,955 followersHenry James was an American-British author. He is regarded as a key transitional figure between literary realism and literary modernism, and is considered by many to be among the greatest novelists in the English language. He was the son of Henry James Sr. and the brother of philosopher and psychologist William James and diarist Alice James.
He is best known for his novels dealing with the social and marital interplay between émigré Americans, the English, and continental Europeans, such as The Portrait of a Lady. His later works, such as The Ambassadors, The Wings of the Dove and The Golden Bowl were increasingly experimental. In describing the internal states of mind and social dynamics of his characters, James often wrote in a style in which ambiguous or contradictory motives and impressions were overlaid or juxtaposed in the discussion of a character's psyche. For their unique ambiguity, as well as for other aspects of their composition, his late works have been compared to Impressionist painting.
His novella The Turn of the Screw has garnered a reputation as the most analysed and ambiguous ghost story in the English language and remains his most widely adapted work in other media. He wrote other highly regarded ghost stories, such as "The Jolly Corner".
James published articles and books of criticism, travel, biography, autobiography, and plays. Born in the United States, James largely relocated to Europe as a young man, and eventually settled in England, becoming a British citizen in 1915, a year before his death. James was nominated for the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1911, 1912, and 1916. Jorge Luis Borges said "I have visited some literatures of East and West; I have compiled an encyclopedic compendium of fantastic literature; I have translated Kafka, Melville, and Bloy; I know of no stranger work than that of Henry James."
He is best known for his novels dealing with the social and marital interplay between émigré Americans, the English, and continental Europeans, such as The Portrait of a Lady. His later works, such as The Ambassadors, The Wings of the Dove and The Golden Bowl were increasingly experimental. In describing the internal states of mind and social dynamics of his characters, James often wrote in a style in which ambiguous or contradictory motives and impressions were overlaid or juxtaposed in the discussion of a character's psyche. For their unique ambiguity, as well as for other aspects of their composition, his late works have been compared to Impressionist painting.
His novella The Turn of the Screw has garnered a reputation as the most analysed and ambiguous ghost story in the English language and remains his most widely adapted work in other media. He wrote other highly regarded ghost stories, such as "The Jolly Corner".
James published articles and books of criticism, travel, biography, autobiography, and plays. Born in the United States, James largely relocated to Europe as a young man, and eventually settled in England, becoming a British citizen in 1915, a year before his death. James was nominated for the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1911, 1912, and 1916. Jorge Luis Borges said "I have visited some literatures of East and West; I have compiled an encyclopedic compendium of fantastic literature; I have translated Kafka, Melville, and Bloy; I know of no stranger work than that of Henry James."
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 663 reviews
August 18, 2025
A terrible secret marks the lonely John Marcher's life: he convinces himself that something will happen to him one day, as if he is being hunted by a beast lurking in the shadows, whose threatening presence he feels. He will be on the lookout for the beast with his friend May. But for what is it? What is so special about the life of John Marcher? This work is a dizzying short story from the brilliant and disturbing Henry James, which will turn your brain upside down.
March 8, 2021
James is my second favorite writer, after Proust, of course. The Beast in the Jungle is probably his most masterful tale—novella or short story, you decide—and it's one that I've read at least ten times. While many of my readings have been colored by Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick's now canonical essay "The Beast in the Closet," this time around I read James's tale from an entirely new perspective.
And to me that's the most marvelous thing about writers like James: one never encounters the same text; one always finds new entry points, threads, and cadences that were lost on the first (or tenth) reading. James's work is always lucid and at the same time ambiguous, tapping into the ebb and flow of our psychological mindsets; I suppose it's no wonder that our own psychological states while reading would blind us to the many other complex ideas and structures with which James is working with such laudable skill.
The Beast in the Jungle is the tale of John Marcher, a narrative that pits existential and phenomenological questions of being against the ineluctable nature of language, speech, and what is unnameable. While Marcher is sure that something monstrous is going to happen to him, thus remaining hypervigilant through his entire life in wait for what he calls the beast, James is quick to show how the underlying narcissism that pervades our suffering—and which can blind us to the suffering of others—still courts a desire to be understood, acknowledged, and ultimately known. The analytic relationship between Marcher and May Bartram is one of the most beguiling and yet touching of these sorts of relationships in James's fiction, perhaps because the sense of intimacy and the threat of the beast are interwoven in a way that causes the textual rhythm to literally pulsate at times (e.g., see the famous ending lines).
If you are a writer and you've never read this, I honestly have no idea what sort of company you've been keeping. Not only is The Beast in the Jungle one of the very best examples of the short story, but it is also an investigation into the same representational inquiries with which we all deal when trying to nail down words for things that are simply unnameable. And if you're a reader who has never read this: what on earth are you waiting for?
And to me that's the most marvelous thing about writers like James: one never encounters the same text; one always finds new entry points, threads, and cadences that were lost on the first (or tenth) reading. James's work is always lucid and at the same time ambiguous, tapping into the ebb and flow of our psychological mindsets; I suppose it's no wonder that our own psychological states while reading would blind us to the many other complex ideas and structures with which James is working with such laudable skill.
The Beast in the Jungle is the tale of John Marcher, a narrative that pits existential and phenomenological questions of being against the ineluctable nature of language, speech, and what is unnameable. While Marcher is sure that something monstrous is going to happen to him, thus remaining hypervigilant through his entire life in wait for what he calls the beast, James is quick to show how the underlying narcissism that pervades our suffering—and which can blind us to the suffering of others—still courts a desire to be understood, acknowledged, and ultimately known. The analytic relationship between Marcher and May Bartram is one of the most beguiling and yet touching of these sorts of relationships in James's fiction, perhaps because the sense of intimacy and the threat of the beast are interwoven in a way that causes the textual rhythm to literally pulsate at times (e.g., see the famous ending lines).
If you are a writer and you've never read this, I honestly have no idea what sort of company you've been keeping. Not only is The Beast in the Jungle one of the very best examples of the short story, but it is also an investigation into the same representational inquiries with which we all deal when trying to nail down words for things that are simply unnameable. And if you're a reader who has never read this: what on earth are you waiting for?
October 23, 2019
Το ημερόλογιο αναμονής της μοίρας γράφεται απο την σπατάλη της ζωής και μετράει πάντα ημέρες, μήνες, έτη, σε μια χρονική κατάταξη όπου επιτρέπεται σε ένα άγνωστο πεπρωμένο, σε μια κακιά μοίρα που σώνει μυστικά και αθέατα τα θηράματα της απο μια χειρότερη μοίρα, να καταδικάζουν υπάρξεις στον σπαραγμό της άγνωστης, παντοτινά χαμένης εμπειρίας.
Μια μεγαλειώδη κατάντια αδράνειας και απάθειας, μια ενοχή κατανόησης, μια ανοχή άβουλης αντίδρασης, μια βουτιά, ένα βήμα, ενα άγγιγμα, μια ψυχική παγωνιά, που διαχωρίζει,
υποδηλώνει σκληρά και ανελέητα ότι δεν πρόκειται να συμβεί απολύτως τίποτα.
Τα τέρατα και τα θηρία του απόλυτου κενού
κυριαρχούν επί των υποκειμένων τους αν
αποδειχθεί η αποδοχή πως ο φόβος τού να μην αγαπήσεις δεν σε διακατέχει, δεν σε απομονώνει,
δεν σε πανικοβάλλει, ούτε σε καταδικάζει σε αιώνια κατάχρηση της λαμπερής κενότητας σου.
Μια χαώδη απερισκεψία σε κάνει να ισχυρίζεσαι πως δεν φοβάσαι, διότι απλά δεν γνωρίζεις τί είναι φόβος.
Και τότε αλίμονο.
Όσο κι αν διατείνεσαι πως φοβάσαι περισσότερο την άγνοια του φόβου παρά την γνώση του, προσπαθώντας να αρνηθείς κάθε προσωπική εμπειρία, απρόβλεπτου περιστατικού, ή αναμενόμενης εσωτερικής οδύνης, έρχεται αργά ή γρήγορα η στιγμή που το θηρίο της ζωής σου, αυτό, που κρυβόταν καιρό και με περισσή υπομονή στην ζούγκλα της κοινωνικής σου αυταπάτης ορμάει πάνω σου.
Μα τί δυστυχία,
δεν σε αποτελειώνει,
δεν σε σκοτώνει,
δεν σε θανατώνει για να λυτρωθείς,
απλώς σε σπρώχνει στο κενό της ύπαρξης σου, αφήνοντας σε να κοιτάξεις πίσω συνειδητά για να δεις πως πέταξες ολόκληρη ζωή αναμένοντας να ζήσεις,
να καταλάβεις πως θυσίασες πολλή αγάπη που σου χαρίστηκε απλόχερα και τώρα είναι αργά, σκοτεινά, κρύα, μοναχικά και κενά.
Πως κοστιζει πολύ να εχεις αγαπηθεί με αυτοθυσία και αμέριστη υπομονή και πονάει περισσότερο κάπου πίσω απο την ψυχή, μόλις καταλαβαίνεις πως έμαθες να μην φοβάσαι το θηρίο,
έμαθες να βλέπεις, να ακούς, να αγαπάς αληθινά,
μα τώρα πια, δεν υπάρχει τίποτα για να αγαπήσεις
.
Δεν υπάρχεις, δεν ζεις, δεν αισθάνεσαι, απλώς θυμάσαι, αναπολείς, παραμένεις όμηρος του θηρίου σε μια πραγματικότητα που έχτισες πάνω στο κενό της μοναξιάς σου.
Ο (Τζων Μάρτσερ) ο μήνας Μάρτιος του ημερολογίου της ιστορίας μας και η (Μαίη Μπάρτραμ) ο μήνας Μάιος της ζωης, συμβολίζουν τους βασικούς ήρωες της ανεπανάληπτης αφήγησης του μύστη της τέχνης,
Χένρι Τζέιμς.
Συναντιούνται ένα καλοκαίρι πλυμμηρισμένο με υποσχέσεις, ζωτικότητα και έρωτα.
Απο εκείνη την συνάντηση μεσολαβούν πολλές περιστροφές της γης γύρω απο τον εαυτό της.
Το ημερολόγιο αναμονής της μοίρας γράφεται
αδιάλειπτα προσμετρώντας και ηλιακά έτη.
Έγιναν πολλές περιστροφές της γης
γύρω απο τον ήλιο για να καταλάβει ο Μάρτιος
πως στις πλήρεις εναλλαγές ημέρας-νύχτας καιροφυλακτεί μια εποχή με θηρία και σεληνιακούς κύκλους φυσικής αισθητής παρακμής.
Ήταν ο Μάρτιος, ασταθής, ζοφερός, χιονισμένος, νυχτερινός και παγωμένος. Ήθελε την Άνοιξη για να ζωντανέψει, να ανθίσει, να ερωτευτεί, να υπάρξει και πάλι στην ζωή.
Ο Μάιος συνοδεύεται απο την πλήρη ευδαιμονία της προετοιμασίας του καλοκαιριού, της ζεστασιάς, της αγάπης, της συντροφιάς, της ηδονής που καρποφορεί σε καρδιές και σώματα,
της πανοργασμικής απόλαυσης όλων των υπάρξεων.
Και αυτών που αντηχούν θριάμβους και αυτών που σιωπούν και υπομένουν την αποκάλυψη των μυστικών της μοίρας.
Αρχικά η συντροφιά του Μάρτη με τον Μάιο ζωντανεύει με τα χάδια της άνοιξης και σκορπάει ελπίδες και οράματα στην ευωδιαστή γη ψυχών και σωμάτων.
Ωστόσο, το όραμα γίνεται όλο και περισσότερο ιδιότητα του τυφλωμένου απο τον χειμώνα Μάρτη και η ψυχρότητα του καταφέρνει να ξεπεράσει την γλυκιά αγκαλιά του Μαΐου.
Δεν δέχεται να μπει η άνοιξη μέσα του
και καταφέρνει να γεμίσει με χιόνι την καρδιά του Μαη που του έχει δώσει παράδεισους αγάπης και αφοσίωσης.
Έτσι ο Μάρτιος, καταφέρνει με την παγωνιά του και την εγωιστική του παραδοξότητα να φέρει μέσα στον Μάιο την παγωνιά
και μια ψυχρότητα που θα σκότωνε και τους πιο λαμπρούς τροπικούς αγάπης.
Τον Απρίλιο ο Μάιος πεθαίνει.
Δεν αντέχει το χιόνι και την μοναξιά, την ερημιά και την αδιαφορία του χειμώνα.
Ο Μάρτιος διαχωρίζεται για πάντα απο την άνοιξη της ζωής και αρχίζει να καταλαβαίνει πώς είναι το βασίλειο του πάγου και των θηρίων που τον περικυκλώνουν.
Το φθινόπωρο είναι η εποχή του θανάτου που
προετοιμάζει την αναγέννηση μόνο για αυτούς που την καρτερούν.
Τα φυτά πεθαίνουν, ο ουρανός πολλές φορές κλαίει μαλωμένος απο τα βαριά σύννεφα, τα δέντρα παγώνουν και τα φύλλα δέχονται να πεθάνουν πατημένα και παρασυρμένα.
Είναι το τέλος της γενναιοδωρίας και της ζωντάνιας του καλοκαιριού.
Ειναι η στιγμή που ο Μάρτιος επισκέπτεται τον τάφο του Μάη και τελειώνουν οι διακρίσεις και τα μυστικά.
Η στιγμή που διαπιστώνει πως το θηρίο έτρεξε καταπάνω του αληθινά και του στέρησε κάθε ευκαιρία ζωής και αγάπης.
Καημένε Μάρτιε.
Ό.τι δεν έζησες, ήταν όλη σου η ζωή.
ΔΙΑΒΑΣΤΕ ΤΟ 💥💥💥💥💥💥💥
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️✍🏻
Καλή ανάγνωση.
Πολλούς ασπασμούς.
Μια μεγαλειώδη κατάντια αδράνειας και απάθειας, μια ενοχή κατανόησης, μια ανοχή άβουλης αντίδρασης, μια βουτιά, ένα βήμα, ενα άγγιγμα, μια ψυχική παγωνιά, που διαχωρίζει,
υποδηλώνει σκληρά και ανελέητα ότι δεν πρόκειται να συμβεί απολύτως τίποτα.
Τα τέρατα και τα θηρία του απόλυτου κενού
κυριαρχούν επί των υποκειμένων τους αν
αποδειχθεί η αποδοχή πως ο φόβος τού να μην αγαπήσεις δεν σε διακατέχει, δεν σε απομονώνει,
δεν σε πανικοβάλλει, ούτε σε καταδικάζει σε αιώνια κατάχρηση της λαμπερής κενότητας σου.
Μια χαώδη απερισκεψία σε κάνει να ισχυρίζεσαι πως δεν φοβάσαι, διότι απλά δεν γνωρίζεις τί είναι φόβος.
Και τότε αλίμονο.
Όσο κι αν διατείνεσαι πως φοβάσαι περισσότερο την άγνοια του φόβου παρά την γνώση του, προσπαθώντας να αρνηθείς κάθε προσωπική εμπειρία, απρόβλεπτου περιστατικού, ή αναμενόμενης εσωτερικής οδύνης, έρχεται αργά ή γρήγορα η στιγμή που το θηρίο της ζωής σου, αυτό, που κρυβόταν καιρό και με περισσή υπομονή στην ζούγκλα της κοινωνικής σου αυταπάτης ορμάει πάνω σου.
Μα τί δυστυχία,
δεν σε αποτελειώνει,
δεν σε σκοτώνει,
δεν σε θανατώνει για να λυτρωθείς,
απλώς σε σπρώχνει στο κενό της ύπαρξης σου, αφήνοντας σε να κοιτάξεις πίσω συνειδητά για να δεις πως πέταξες ολόκληρη ζωή αναμένοντας να ζήσεις,
να καταλάβεις πως θυσίασες πολλή αγάπη που σου χαρίστηκε απλόχερα και τώρα είναι αργά, σκοτεινά, κρύα, μοναχικά και κενά.
Πως κοστιζει πολύ να εχεις αγαπηθεί με αυτοθυσία και αμέριστη υπομονή και πονάει περισσότερο κάπου πίσω απο την ψυχή, μόλις καταλαβαίνεις πως έμαθες να μην φοβάσαι το θηρίο,
έμαθες να βλέπεις, να ακούς, να αγαπάς αληθινά,
μα τώρα πια, δεν υπάρχει τίποτα για να αγαπήσεις
.
Δεν υπάρχεις, δεν ζεις, δεν αισθάνεσαι, απλώς θυμάσαι, αναπολείς, παραμένεις όμηρος του θηρίου σε μια πραγματικότητα που έχτισες πάνω στο κενό της μοναξιάς σου.
Ο (Τζων Μάρτσερ) ο μήνας Μάρτιος του ημερολογίου της ιστορίας μας και η (Μαίη Μπάρτραμ) ο μήνας Μάιος της ζωης, συμβολίζουν τους βασικούς ήρωες της ανεπανάληπτης αφήγησης του μύστη της τέχνης,
Χένρι Τζέιμς.
Συναντιούνται ένα καλοκαίρι πλυμμηρισμένο με υποσχέσεις, ζωτικότητα και έρωτα.
Απο εκείνη την συνάντηση μεσολαβούν πολλές περιστροφές της γης γύρω απο τον εαυτό της.
Το ημερολόγιο αναμονής της μοίρας γράφεται
αδιάλειπτα προσμετρώντας και ηλιακά έτη.
Έγιναν πολλές περιστροφές της γης
γύρω απο τον ήλιο για να καταλάβει ο Μάρτιος
πως στις πλήρεις εναλλαγές ημέρας-νύχτας καιροφυλακτεί μια εποχή με θηρία και σεληνιακούς κύκλους φυσικής αισθητής παρακμής.
Ήταν ο Μάρτιος, ασταθής, ζοφερός, χιονισμένος, νυχτερινός και παγωμένος. Ήθελε την Άνοιξη για να ζωντανέψει, να ανθίσει, να ερωτευτεί, να υπάρξει και πάλι στην ζωή.
Ο Μάιος συνοδεύεται απο την πλήρη ευδαιμονία της προετοιμασίας του καλοκαιριού, της ζεστασιάς, της αγάπης, της συντροφιάς, της ηδονής που καρποφορεί σε καρδιές και σώματα,
της πανοργασμικής απόλαυσης όλων των υπάρξεων.
Και αυτών που αντηχούν θριάμβους και αυτών που σιωπούν και υπομένουν την αποκάλυψη των μυστικών της μοίρας.
Αρχικά η συντροφιά του Μάρτη με τον Μάιο ζωντανεύει με τα χάδια της άνοιξης και σκορπάει ελπίδες και οράματα στην ευωδιαστή γη ψυχών και σωμάτων.
Ωστόσο, το όραμα γίνεται όλο και περισσότερο ιδιότητα του τυφλωμένου απο τον χειμώνα Μάρτη και η ψυχρότητα του καταφέρνει να ξεπεράσει την γλυκιά αγκαλιά του Μαΐου.
Δεν δέχεται να μπει η άνοιξη μέσα του
και καταφέρνει να γεμίσει με χιόνι την καρδιά του Μαη που του έχει δώσει παράδεισους αγάπης και αφοσίωσης.
Έτσι ο Μάρτιος, καταφέρνει με την παγωνιά του και την εγωιστική του παραδοξότητα να φέρει μέσα στον Μάιο την παγωνιά
και μια ψυχρότητα που θα σκότωνε και τους πιο λαμπρούς τροπικούς αγάπης.
Τον Απρίλιο ο Μάιος πεθαίνει.
Δεν αντέχει το χιόνι και την μοναξιά, την ερημιά και την αδιαφορία του χειμώνα.
Ο Μάρτιος διαχωρίζεται για πάντα απο την άνοιξη της ζωής και αρχίζει να καταλαβαίνει πώς είναι το βασίλειο του πάγου και των θηρίων που τον περικυκλώνουν.
Το φθινόπωρο είναι η εποχή του θανάτου που
προετοιμάζει την αναγέννηση μόνο για αυτούς που την καρτερούν.
Τα φυτά πεθαίνουν, ο ουρανός πολλές φορές κλαίει μαλωμένος απο τα βαριά σύννεφα, τα δέντρα παγώνουν και τα φύλλα δέχονται να πεθάνουν πατημένα και παρασυρμένα.
Είναι το τέλος της γενναιοδωρίας και της ζωντάνιας του καλοκαιριού.
Ειναι η στιγμή που ο Μάρτιος επισκέπτεται τον τάφο του Μάη και τελειώνουν οι διακρίσεις και τα μυστικά.
Η στιγμή που διαπιστώνει πως το θηρίο έτρεξε καταπάνω του αληθινά και του στέρησε κάθε ευκαιρία ζωής και αγάπης.
Καημένε Μάρτιε.
Ό.τι δεν έζησες, ήταν όλη σου η ζωή.
ΔΙΑΒΑΣΤΕ ΤΟ 💥💥💥💥💥💥💥
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️✍🏻
Καλή ανάγνωση.
Πολλούς ασπασμούς.
April 27, 2021
"No podía invitar a una mujer a que compartiera su situación de condena, temor y obsesión; y el resultado de aquello era precisamente lo que le preocupaba. Algo se ocultaba, acechándole, entre el ir y venir de los meses y los años, como una bestia agazapada en la jungla. Poco importaba si la bestia agazapada estaba destinada a matarle o a morir. El punto decisivo era el inevitable salto de la criatura; y la lección decisiva que había que extraer era que un hombre con sensibilidad no se hace acompañar por una dama a una cacería de tigres. Tal era la imagen bajo la que había acabado por representar su vida"
John Marcher durante toda su vida tuvo y tiene la sensación/premonición/obsesión de que un hecho trascendente va a suceder, algo se mantiene latente . Por momentos tiene una sensación dubitativa, pero mayormente lo asocia y lo describe un acontecimiento negativo. May Bartram es la única confidente sobre esta sensación que le embarga. La historia girara en torno a la relación entre ambos y en develar cual es el gran suceso.
Indudablemente bien escrito, Impregnado de metáforas, con muchas sutilezas y entramados psicológicos. Intrigante y parcialmente inquietante, te mantienen a la expectativa y por momentos a la deriva.
No juzgo la calidad, Pero peca de algo bastante recurrente en la obra de James... Me refiero a lo reiterativo y a las constantes vueltas que le da a ciertos aspectos Página tras Página. En lo personal me termina resultando un tanto tedioso e inconsistente.
John Marcher durante toda su vida tuvo y tiene la sensación/premonición/obsesión de que un hecho trascendente va a suceder, algo se mantiene latente . Por momentos tiene una sensación dubitativa, pero mayormente lo asocia y lo describe un acontecimiento negativo. May Bartram es la única confidente sobre esta sensación que le embarga. La historia girara en torno a la relación entre ambos y en develar cual es el gran suceso.
Indudablemente bien escrito, Impregnado de metáforas, con muchas sutilezas y entramados psicológicos. Intrigante y parcialmente inquietante, te mantienen a la expectativa y por momentos a la deriva.
No juzgo la calidad, Pero peca de algo bastante recurrente en la obra de James... Me refiero a lo reiterativo y a las constantes vueltas que le da a ciertos aspectos Página tras Página. En lo personal me termina resultando un tanto tedioso e inconsistente.
August 15, 2023
4.5
He saw the Jungle of his life and saw the lurking Beast.
This is the story of one man’s obsession with fate and destiny; of his allowing this sense of foreboding, the conviction of something terrible coming his way, to haunt him like a beast of the jungle.
He lives with this apprehension day in day out, waiting for the imminent catastrophe; waiting for the beast to jump out from his hiding place.
The Beast in the Jungle is a story about loneliness, love, meaning of life, loss and death.
What had the man had, to make him by the loss of it so bleed and yet live?
He saw the Jungle of his life and saw the lurking Beast.
This is the story of one man’s obsession with fate and destiny; of his allowing this sense of foreboding, the conviction of something terrible coming his way, to haunt him like a beast of the jungle.
He lives with this apprehension day in day out, waiting for the imminent catastrophe; waiting for the beast to jump out from his hiding place.
The Beast in the Jungle is a story about loneliness, love, meaning of life, loss and death.
What had the man had, to make him by the loss of it so bleed and yet live?
July 24, 2018
Με το "Το στρίψιμο της βίδας" ο Χένρι Τζέιμς με είχε οδηγήσει πριν χρόνια στο κέντρο του ερέβους των ανθρωπίνων φόβων.
Με το "Το θηρίο στην ζούγκλα" μου χάρισε μια καινούργια αναγνωστική εμπειρία... Μια μυσταγωγική εμπειρία που περνάει μέσα από δαιδαλώδη μονοπάτια, τα οποία διακλαδώνονται συνεχώς μέχρι να οδηγήσουν στην αποκάλυψη!
Ένα μυστικό συνδέει τον Τζον Μάρτσερ και την Μαίη Μπάρτραμ. Ένα βαθύ μυστικό το οποίο πεισματικά αρνείται να μας αποκαλύψει ο συγγραφέας καθ' όλη την διάρκεια της ιστορίας. Ο άντρας και η γυναίκα συναντιούνται τυχαία μετά από 10 χρόνια και θυμούνται την πρώτη τους συνάντηση στην Ρώμη. O Τζέιμς, σαν ουδέτερος παρατηρητής, περιγράφει την σχέση του ζευγαριού εντελώς αποστασιοποιημένος. Δεν δομεί κατά τον γνωστό τρόπο τους χαρακτήρες, αντιθέτως αφήνει τον αναγνώστη να "δουλέψει" πάνω σε αυτούς...
Ο Τζον περιμένει το Θηρίο που τον πλησιάζει αγριεμένο.
Η Μαίη είναι αποφασισμένη να τον προστατέψει. Όμως ο ίδιος δεν ξέρει αν πραγματικά χρειάζεται την βοήθεια της...
Το τέλος της ιστορίας είναι συγκλονιστικό. Ο Τζον θα κατανοήσει όλα αυτά τα οποία αγνοούσε και όλα αυτά που δεν τον άφηνε ο εγωισμός του να δει. Όμως η λύτρωση που ήλπιζε δεν θα έρθει ποτέ!
Τι είναι η αγάπη;
Πόσο επηρεάζει την ζωή μας ο εγωισμός;
Πόσο κοντά μας ελοχεύει το Θηρίο;
Ποια είναι η προσωπική μας ζούγκλα;
5/5 για μια υποδειγματική νουβέλα ενός μεγάλου συγγραφέα.
ΥΓ: Νομίζω πως ο Αλέν Ρενέ πρέπει να επηρεάστηκε από το συγκεκριμένο βιβλίο όταν έφτιαχνε την ταινία "Πέρυσι στο Μάριενμπαντ", διότι προσωπικά βρήκε πολλές ομοιότητες στους χαρακτήρες.
ΥΓ2: Αρκετά ενδιαφέρον και ουσιαστικό το επίμετρο του βιβλίου
Με το "Το θηρίο στην ζούγκλα" μου χάρισε μια καινούργια αναγνωστική εμπειρία... Μια μυσταγωγική εμπειρία που περνάει μέσα από δαιδαλώδη μονοπάτια, τα οποία διακλαδώνονται συνεχώς μέχρι να οδηγήσουν στην αποκάλυψη!
Ένα μυστικό συνδέει τον Τζον Μάρτσερ και την Μαίη Μπάρτραμ. Ένα βαθύ μυστικό το οποίο πεισματικά αρνείται να μας αποκαλύψει ο συγγραφέας καθ' όλη την διάρκεια της ιστορίας. Ο άντρας και η γυναίκα συναντιούνται τυχαία μετά από 10 χρόνια και θυμούνται την πρώτη τους συνάντηση στην Ρώμη. O Τζέιμς, σαν ουδέτερος παρατηρητής, περιγράφει την σχέση του ζευγαριού εντελώς αποστασιοποιημένος. Δεν δομεί κατά τον γνωστό τρόπο τους χαρακτήρες, αντιθέτως αφήνει τον αναγνώστη να "δουλέψει" πάνω σε αυτούς...
Ο Τζον περιμένει το Θηρίο που τον πλησιάζει αγριεμένο.
Η Μαίη είναι αποφασισμένη να τον προστατέψει. Όμως ο ίδιος δεν ξέρει αν πραγματικά χρειάζεται την βοήθεια της...
Το τέλος της ιστορίας είναι συγκλονιστικό. Ο Τζον θα κατανοήσει όλα αυτά τα οποία αγνοούσε και όλα αυτά που δεν τον άφηνε ο εγωισμός του να δει. Όμως η λύτρωση που ήλπιζε δεν θα έρθει ποτέ!
Τι είναι η αγάπη;
Πόσο επηρεάζει την ζωή μας ο εγωισμός;
Πόσο κοντά μας ελοχεύει το Θηρίο;
Ποια είναι η προσωπική μας ζούγκλα;
5/5 για μια υποδειγματική νουβέλα ενός μεγάλου συγγραφέα.
ΥΓ: Νομίζω πως ο Αλέν Ρενέ πρέπει να επηρεάστηκε από το συγκεκριμένο βιβλίο όταν έφτιαχνε την ταινία "Πέρυσι στο Μάριενμπαντ", διότι προσωπικά βρήκε πολλές ομοιότητες στους χαρακτήρες.
ΥΓ2: Αρκετά ενδιαφέρον και ουσιαστικό το επίμετρο του βιβλίου
February 11, 2013
**** SPOILER ALERT **** (But please, before reading this review, invest the time in reading James's short story. You will be glad you did, regardless of whether you return to read the following)
In one of the best reviews I've ever read of a piece of fiction (Note: any review, not just a Goodreads review), friend Aubrey pens in her opening thoughts on Infinite Jest: "Real life is a pain. Real life is a bitch." Note the double use of the word "real", for it isn't just life that is a pain and a bitch, it's life that is real.
Forget the Socratic maxim that the unexamined life is not worth living, it is the unexperienced life, Real Life, that isn't worth living. If you are reading this review, you didn't get to Goodreads by accident, and you certainly didn't click on this review of a Henry James novella for kicks. You are a lover of the written word, of literature, story writ of conflict that exists as a telling of the human condition. And how do we approach these tales of conflict, stories often with unhappy endings, of humans suffering? Why do we keep coming back for more, sifting these stories through our own filters of pain? Because this is all we have. Let's face it, as lovers of literature, poetry, biographies and plays we are invested in exploring, experiencing and living the human condition. Without our own daily commitment to living the personal story we find ourselves in, these written words would be meaningless. Real life is a pain. Real life is a bitch. Yes.
This masterful short piece by James, a literay exposition of the importance of engaging in Real Life, is presented in a manner both very accessible and opaque. After reading this story twice in succession, I fully understand how GR friend Proustitute claims to find new ways of approaching the text after a dozen readings. Here is the opening sentence of the story. Friendly reader, do me a kindness and read it three or four times as I did before continuing with this review:
"What determined the speech that startled him in the course of their encounter scarcely matters, being probably but some words spoken by himself without intention - spoken as they lingered and slowly moved together after their renewal of acquaintance."
If you've read this story at least once, I hope that this opening sentence resounds with hidden meaning and is as haunting to you as it was to me. "What determined the speech that startled him ... scarcely matters" - that is a falsehood. It does matter. The protagnoist Marcher needs more meaning, more self examination into those compass points in his life that go uncharted. For what truly is the Beast that awaits us in the Jungle? For Marcher it is some unknown, unspeakable rare and strange terror that will happen to him, and presumably ruin his life. But by creating the traps in his life to snare the tiger, he neglected the asp. You see, Marcher, the Beast isn't the tragic event. It's the loss of a life not lived, of not investing in the You, even with full knowledge that it could yield real pain while living alongside the potential of bearing the fruit of real joy. James deftly shows us that the unexperienced life has the capacity to give us the pain without ever experiencing the joy.
It is clear where James's feelings lie on the answer to Hamlet's existential question. Yes, it is nobler to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. Give us a healthy does of that fortune so outrageous. We are ready to take our chances. Fire when ready.
In one of the best reviews I've ever read of a piece of fiction (Note: any review, not just a Goodreads review), friend Aubrey pens in her opening thoughts on Infinite Jest: "Real life is a pain. Real life is a bitch." Note the double use of the word "real", for it isn't just life that is a pain and a bitch, it's life that is real.
Forget the Socratic maxim that the unexamined life is not worth living, it is the unexperienced life, Real Life, that isn't worth living. If you are reading this review, you didn't get to Goodreads by accident, and you certainly didn't click on this review of a Henry James novella for kicks. You are a lover of the written word, of literature, story writ of conflict that exists as a telling of the human condition. And how do we approach these tales of conflict, stories often with unhappy endings, of humans suffering? Why do we keep coming back for more, sifting these stories through our own filters of pain? Because this is all we have. Let's face it, as lovers of literature, poetry, biographies and plays we are invested in exploring, experiencing and living the human condition. Without our own daily commitment to living the personal story we find ourselves in, these written words would be meaningless. Real life is a pain. Real life is a bitch. Yes.
This masterful short piece by James, a literay exposition of the importance of engaging in Real Life, is presented in a manner both very accessible and opaque. After reading this story twice in succession, I fully understand how GR friend Proustitute claims to find new ways of approaching the text after a dozen readings. Here is the opening sentence of the story. Friendly reader, do me a kindness and read it three or four times as I did before continuing with this review:
"What determined the speech that startled him in the course of their encounter scarcely matters, being probably but some words spoken by himself without intention - spoken as they lingered and slowly moved together after their renewal of acquaintance."
If you've read this story at least once, I hope that this opening sentence resounds with hidden meaning and is as haunting to you as it was to me. "What determined the speech that startled him ... scarcely matters" - that is a falsehood. It does matter. The protagnoist Marcher needs more meaning, more self examination into those compass points in his life that go uncharted. For what truly is the Beast that awaits us in the Jungle? For Marcher it is some unknown, unspeakable rare and strange terror that will happen to him, and presumably ruin his life. But by creating the traps in his life to snare the tiger, he neglected the asp. You see, Marcher, the Beast isn't the tragic event. It's the loss of a life not lived, of not investing in the You, even with full knowledge that it could yield real pain while living alongside the potential of bearing the fruit of real joy. James deftly shows us that the unexperienced life has the capacity to give us the pain without ever experiencing the joy.
It is clear where James's feelings lie on the answer to Hamlet's existential question. Yes, it is nobler to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. Give us a healthy does of that fortune so outrageous. We are ready to take our chances. Fire when ready.
March 25, 2024
Este pequeno livro é daqueles que leio e, quando chego ao fim, penso que compreendi o que estava a ser transmitido, mas também posso estar enganada... John Marcher espera por um grande evento na sua vida, que o transformará, a sua "Fera na Selva". Todas as consequências desta "espera" são, no fundo, o que ele não devia ter perdido, como as pequenas coisas que acontecem ao longo da vida, sendo estas pequenas coisas o que realmente dá sentido à vida.
Confesso que não foi um livro que me tenha entusiasmado muito, que me tenha feito sentir que li algo fantástico. Acabei por não me sentir totalmente satisfeita com esta leitura.
Confesso que não foi um livro que me tenha entusiasmado muito, que me tenha feito sentir que li algo fantástico. Acabei por não me sentir totalmente satisfeita com esta leitura.
June 11, 2016
Uma boa surpresa. Esta minha primeira leitura de Henry James é uma história do que fica pelo caminho; das palavras que não dizemos, dos gestos que não fazemos, ou porque não descortinamos o que nos está à frente do nariz, ou porque achamos que podemos sempre adiar.
Até que um dia é tarde demais.
As últimas páginas são um auto-exame intenso, desfiam dor e reflectem aquela sensação de impotência e frustração que se tem quando se percebe que se teve tudo nas mãos e tudo se deixou escapar.
Até que um dia é tarde demais.
As últimas páginas são um auto-exame intenso, desfiam dor e reflectem aquela sensação de impotência e frustração que se tem quando se percebe que se teve tudo nas mãos e tudo se deixou escapar.
December 28, 2020
Ωραία, φέτος έχω διαβάσει τα ωραιότερα σφηνάκια στιλάτης και υπέροχης λογοτεχνίας, από αυτές τις νουβέλες που σε εμπλέκουν τόσο έντονα στην ιστορία τους και που δε λησμονούνται εύκολα· πιάνουν χώρο στη νοερή βιβλιοθήκη του μυαλού, μπαίνουν σφήνες καλύπτοντας ένα κενό που το νόμιζες μικρό αλλά που τελικά ήταν απαραίτητο να καλυφθεί. Όπως και να ’χει είναι δικαίως ερωτεύσιμα. Η γραφή του Χένρι Τζέιμς είναι ερωτεύσιμη.
Ο Τζων Μπράτσερ φέρει την πεποίθηση πως ένα μεγάλο και τρανό γεγονός θα αναταράξει τη ζωή του. Μοιράζεται αυτό το φοβερά προσωπικό του μυστικό με μια νεαρή γυναίκα, τη Μαίη Μπάρτραμ, και μετά από δέκα χρόνια απουσίας επαφής ξαναβρίσκονται για να τους ενώσει μια φιλία, η οποία έχει ως κεντρικό άξονα και κινητήριο δύναμη το μυστικό αυτό. Αυτό το μυστικό υπαγορεύει μια ατελείωτη αναμονή -το νήμα που ακολουθεί ο αναγνώστης και με το οποίο τυλίγεται σιγά-σιγά, περίτεχνα αλλά όχι κραυγαλέα, κοπιάζοντας και ενεργοποιώντας όλες τις αισθήσεις του ώστε να δει από τη χαραμάδα το πίσω κείμενο της ιστορίας.
Ο Μπράτσερ ψηλαφίζει το μεγάλο νόημα της ζωής του, το πεπρωμένο του, με χέρια χάρτινα, με καρδιά λειψή, με όραση λαθεμένη, βαθιά νυχτωμένος και απολύτως πλανημένος από το φαρμάκι με το οποίο αυτοεμποτίζει τόσο φροντισμένα την ύπαρξή του: τον άβυθο εγωισμό του. Η Μαίη Μπάρτραμ, όμως, στωική και αινιγματική συνοδοιπόρος σε αυτό το μονοπάτι της ζωής του, το γεμάτο αναπάντητα ερωτήματα μα κυρίως καλυμμένο με το μείζον αναπάντητο ερώτημα, γερνά και πεθαίνει. Και ο Μπράτσερ μένει αποστεγνωμένος, απολύτως άδειος, μπροστά στην πέτρινη πλάκα του μνήματός της να αναρωτιέται ακόμα, να παιδεύεται ακόμα, να δυσφορεί ακόμα και να μην αντιλαμβάνεται ακόμα..
Τελειώνοντας τη νουβέλα, καπνίζει ακόμα το ανείπωτο, το συγκαλυμμένο, το υπαινισσόμενο, ακόμα κι αν στο τέλος ο Μπράτσερ, σαν μέσα από κρύσταλλο, είδε το θηρίο στη ζούγκλα να τον συντρίβει, αντιγυρίζοντάς του τη μετριότητα της ζωής του.
Τελικά στο περιθώριο της ζωής μπορεί να ξεγλιστρούν τα σημαντικότερα που θα μπορούσαν να την ανυψώσουν, αν είμαστε τόσο ηλίθιοι λοιπόν, είναι δικό μας ζήτημα.
* Μου ήρθε λίγο η γεύση από την Έρημο των Ταρτάρων του Μπουτζάτι, θεματολογικά. Υφολογικά, ο Χ.Τ. είναι αυτός που είναι.
Ο Τζων Μπράτσερ φέρει την πεποίθηση πως ένα μεγάλο και τρανό γεγονός θα αναταράξει τη ζωή του. Μοιράζεται αυτό το φοβερά προσωπικό του μυστικό με μια νεαρή γυναίκα, τη Μαίη Μπάρτραμ, και μετά από δέκα χρόνια απουσίας επαφής ξαναβρίσκονται για να τους ενώσει μια φιλία, η οποία έχει ως κεντρικό άξονα και κινητήριο δύναμη το μυστικό αυτό. Αυτό το μυστικό υπαγορεύει μια ατελείωτη αναμονή -το νήμα που ακολουθεί ο αναγνώστης και με το οποίο τυλίγεται σιγά-σιγά, περίτεχνα αλλά όχι κραυγαλέα, κοπιάζοντας και ενεργοποιώντας όλες τις αισθήσεις του ώστε να δει από τη χαραμάδα το πίσω κείμενο της ιστορίας.
Ο Μπράτσερ ψηλαφίζει το μεγάλο νόημα της ζωής του, το πεπρωμένο του, με χέρια χάρτινα, με καρδιά λειψή, με όραση λαθεμένη, βαθιά νυχτωμένος και απολύτως πλανημένος από το φαρμάκι με το οποίο αυτοεμποτίζει τόσο φροντισμένα την ύπαρξή του: τον άβυθο εγωισμό του. Η Μαίη Μπάρτραμ, όμως, στωική και αινιγματική συνοδοιπόρος σε αυτό το μονοπάτι της ζωής του, το γεμάτο αναπάντητα ερωτήματα μα κυρίως καλυμμένο με το μείζον αναπάντητο ερώτημα, γερνά και πεθαίνει. Και ο Μπράτσερ μένει αποστεγνωμένος, απολύτως άδειος, μπροστά στην πέτρινη πλάκα του μνήματός της να αναρωτιέται ακόμα, να παιδεύεται ακόμα, να δυσφορεί ακόμα και να μην αντιλαμβάνεται ακόμα..
Τελειώνοντας τη νουβέλα, καπνίζει ακόμα το ανείπωτο, το συγκαλυμμένο, το υπαινισσόμενο, ακόμα κι αν στο τέλος ο Μπράτσερ, σαν μέσα από κρύσταλλο, είδε το θηρίο στη ζούγκλα να τον συντρίβει, αντιγυρίζοντάς του τη μετριότητα της ζωής του.
Τελικά στο περιθώριο της ζωής μπορεί να ξεγλιστρούν τα σημαντικότερα που θα μπορούσαν να την ανυψώσουν, αν είμαστε τόσο ηλίθιοι λοιπόν, είναι δικό μας ζήτημα.
* Μου ήρθε λίγο η γεύση από την Έρημο των Ταρτάρων του Μπουτζάτι, θεματολογικά. Υφολογικά, ο Χ.Τ. είναι αυτός που είναι.
October 3, 2020
Se tivesse sido o meu primeiro Henry James, teria desistido a meio tal o hermetismo deste livro. Há um segredo partilhado entre um homem e uma mulher, nunca revelado ao leitor, mas suponho ser da esfera privada do autor.
Há a morte e a ausência do amor na vida de uma mulher chamada May Bartram, uma dócil fera sujeita a John Marcher,incapaz de amar e reconhecer o seu amor.
Uma reflexão sobre o egoísmo nos relacionamentos, as palavras não ditas, os passados irrecuperáveis e os finais solitários.
Uma meditação sobre a vida. Há os que tudo dão, há os que insensivelmente não correspondem pouco atentos ao que vai na alma e no coração dos outros.
«A morte não é nada quando, quando se vive tudo em silêncio e de forma avassaladora.»
Há a morte e a ausência do amor na vida de uma mulher chamada May Bartram, uma dócil fera sujeita a John Marcher,incapaz de amar e reconhecer o seu amor.
Uma reflexão sobre o egoísmo nos relacionamentos, as palavras não ditas, os passados irrecuperáveis e os finais solitários.
Uma meditação sobre a vida. Há os que tudo dão, há os que insensivelmente não correspondem pouco atentos ao que vai na alma e no coração dos outros.
«A morte não é nada quando, quando se vive tudo em silêncio e de forma avassaladora.»
October 26, 2010
This is a story that is essentially about nothing. I don't mean to say that all stories are somehow about nothing, I quite literally mean that this story is about nothing. It has a frame of course, because then it would not be a story, but the frame is that it is about a man, Marcher, who does nothing with his life. He believes that some great catastrophe will happen to him, and to avoid it he essentially stops living life. He feels passionate about nothing, and while he loves himself a great deal he abuses that love by locking it away. Marcher has a companion through out this ordeal, May Bartram, she states that she knows his secret. Miss Bartram uses Marcher, she watches his life go by waiting for the event to come. This story is long and tedious at best, and incredibly disappointing any other way. James male characters all seem similar after a while, they are often self-centered voyeurs looking in at other people enjoying their lives, but Marcher differs in that he is trying to look into to his own misery trying to find a reason he lives such an unfulfilled life.
August 3, 2020
"Προχωρούσε λοιπόν ψηλαφιστα στην σκοτεινή κοιλάδα που τον είχε οδηγήσει ο δρόμος του, βασανισμένος από μυριους στοχασμούς, όταν άλλαξε αναπάντεχα πορεία. Δεν τον ένοιαζε αν τσακιζοταν με τρόπο φρικτό, αν ντροπιαζοταν, αν τον κατηγορούσαν για τερατώδη συμπεριφορά - άλλωστε δεν ήταν τόσο ηλικιωμένος ώστε να μην αντέχει--αρκεί ο, τι του συνέβαινε να εναρμονιζοταν με τη στάση που τήρησε σε όλη του τη ζωή, εν αναμονή της επαπειλουμενης εμφάνισης του. Δεν του έμενε πάρα μια επιθυμία - να μη νιώσει "εξαπατημένος"
Κάποια στιγμή, κάπου είχα διαβάσει ένα πολύ ενδιαφέρον ερώτημα που πήγαινε κάπως έτσι :"υπάρχει μέσα σου κάτι που επιθυμεί περισσότερο να έχει δίκιο πάρα να είναι ευτυχισμένο?" αυτό το ερώτημα μου ήρθε στο μυαλό διαβάζοντας αυτή την εκπληκτική νουβέλα του εκπληκτικού Χένρι Τζέιμς. Αυτό το χαρακτηριστικό διέπει την ψυχοσύνθεση του Τζον μαρτσερ, ο οποίος σε όλη του τη ζωή δεν κάνει τίποτα παρά να περιμένει να δικαιωθεί.. Σε τι? Σε ένα μυστικό που μας απασχολεί σε όλη τη διάρκεια του βιβλίου και που περιμένει σαν θηρίο στη ζούγκλα να ορμησει.. Όλη του τη ζωή θεωρεί πως κάτι πάρα πολύ σημαντικό θα έρθει να τον βρει κι έτσι απλά.. Περιμένει. Κι από την άλλη έχουμε την Μαιη μπαρτραμ, η οποία είναι η μόνη άλλη κάτοχος αυτού του μυστικού και μένει δίπλα στον Τζον, περιμένοντας να αντιληφθεί κι εκείνος πως η αλήθεια βρίσκεται μπροστά του, αρκεί να ρίξει τον εγωισμό του. Και έχουμε και τον κάθε αναγνώστη που καλείται να ανακαλύψει αν στη ζωή του φέρθηκε περισσότερο σαν Τζον, Μαιη, πόσο τελικά διαφέρουν ο Τζον και η Μαιη και πως ένας Τζον γίνεται έτσι εξαιτίας μιας Μαιη και αντίστροφα...
Ένα αριστούργημα 100 σελίδων.. Δε θα μπορούσα να τονισω αρκετά πόσο μου άρεσε...
Κάποια στιγμή, κάπου είχα διαβάσει ένα πολύ ενδιαφέρον ερώτημα που πήγαινε κάπως έτσι :"υπάρχει μέσα σου κάτι που επιθυμεί περισσότερο να έχει δίκιο πάρα να είναι ευτυχισμένο?" αυτό το ερώτημα μου ήρθε στο μυαλό διαβάζοντας αυτή την εκπληκτική νουβέλα του εκπληκτικού Χένρι Τζέιμς. Αυτό το χαρακτηριστικό διέπει την ψυχοσύνθεση του Τζον μαρτσερ, ο οποίος σε όλη του τη ζωή δεν κάνει τίποτα παρά να περιμένει να δικαιωθεί.. Σε τι? Σε ένα μυστικό που μας απασχολεί σε όλη τη διάρκεια του βιβλίου και που περιμένει σαν θηρίο στη ζούγκλα να ορμησει.. Όλη του τη ζωή θεωρεί πως κάτι πάρα πολύ σημαντικό θα έρθει να τον βρει κι έτσι απλά.. Περιμένει. Κι από την άλλη έχουμε την Μαιη μπαρτραμ, η οποία είναι η μόνη άλλη κάτοχος αυτού του μυστικού και μένει δίπλα στον Τζον, περιμένοντας να αντιληφθεί κι εκείνος πως η αλήθεια βρίσκεται μπροστά του, αρκεί να ρίξει τον εγωισμό του. Και έχουμε και τον κάθε αναγνώστη που καλείται να ανακαλύψει αν στη ζωή του φέρθηκε περισσότερο σαν Τζον, Μαιη, πόσο τελικά διαφέρουν ο Τζον και η Μαιη και πως ένας Τζον γίνεται έτσι εξαιτίας μιας Μαιη και αντίστροφα...
Ένα αριστούργημα 100 σελίδων.. Δε θα μπορούσα να τονισω αρκετά πόσο μου άρεσε...
January 12, 2022
"It’s dreadful to bring a person back at any time to what he was ten years before. If you’ve lived away from it,” she smiled, “so much the better.”
It's not a big surprise for many of my friends if I say Henry James is one of my favorite authors so far. I'm really eager to read his masterpieces such as The Portrait of a Lady, The Bostonians, The Wings of the Dove, and so on in the future; you could ask: "what are you waiting for?" Well, I'd like to read them in their original language, and unfortunately I don't feel completely ready to do so. And now, after reading The Beast in the Jungle, perhaps it will be better to wait a little more.
When I decide to read a Henry James novel, I have a first assumption which has come true until now: his books have a beautiful and exceptional narrative. It's what I'm looking for and it's what I get. As for the story, it is usually impressive, compelling or entertaining, like Washington Square, which is my favorite book by the author.
However, even though The Beast in the Jungle is a very well written story and beyond (I'd say it's one of the finest works I've ever read so far), the plot was not as good as the narrative style. Henry James is not only telling us a very short story, but using very long, even complex phrases as well – this fact just put me off sometimes.
Now, the fact that James is able to write a story with just two characters, and at the end of the book, you already know these characters quite well, it's a good reason why this book is worth giving a shot. The ending, and how our protagonist, John Marcher, ended up was definitely what I enjoyed reading the most (and of course, when you find out why the book is named how it is).
I'm going to continue reading this author in order to read as many novels as I can, that's the truth. And by the way, sorry for writing a 'longer' review than the story itself, it's not the usual.
It's not a big surprise for many of my friends if I say Henry James is one of my favorite authors so far. I'm really eager to read his masterpieces such as The Portrait of a Lady, The Bostonians, The Wings of the Dove, and so on in the future; you could ask: "what are you waiting for?" Well, I'd like to read them in their original language, and unfortunately I don't feel completely ready to do so. And now, after reading The Beast in the Jungle, perhaps it will be better to wait a little more.
When I decide to read a Henry James novel, I have a first assumption which has come true until now: his books have a beautiful and exceptional narrative. It's what I'm looking for and it's what I get. As for the story, it is usually impressive, compelling or entertaining, like Washington Square, which is my favorite book by the author.
However, even though The Beast in the Jungle is a very well written story and beyond (I'd say it's one of the finest works I've ever read so far), the plot was not as good as the narrative style. Henry James is not only telling us a very short story, but using very long, even complex phrases as well – this fact just put me off sometimes.
Now, the fact that James is able to write a story with just two characters, and at the end of the book, you already know these characters quite well, it's a good reason why this book is worth giving a shot. The ending, and how our protagonist, John Marcher, ended up was definitely what I enjoyed reading the most (and of course, when you find out why the book is named how it is).
I'm going to continue reading this author in order to read as many novels as I can, that's the truth. And by the way, sorry for writing a 'longer' review than the story itself, it's not the usual.
February 3, 2024
Um segredo. Tenho um conjunto de obras literárias com as quais tenho uma obsessão. Estes são livros que leio e releio, que me acompanham, que muitas vezes sinto que não compreendo.
"A Fera na Selva" de Henry James é mais uma dessas obras. 100 páginas que me deixaram atónito e irrequieto ao mesmo tempo. Enquanto li a edição que tenho com tradução de Maria Teresa Guerreiro, consultei on line a edição original. Descobri ainda que existem mais edições em Portugal e no Brasil. Quero voltar a ler esta obra e quem sabe em outra tradução. Talvez a edição de 2023, da Dom Quixote, com tradução de Ana Maria Pereirinha.
Por agora, terminada a primeira leitura, quero simplesmente reflectir e investigar sobre este livro.
"A Fera na Selva" de Henry James é mais uma dessas obras. 100 páginas que me deixaram atónito e irrequieto ao mesmo tempo. Enquanto li a edição que tenho com tradução de Maria Teresa Guerreiro, consultei on line a edição original. Descobri ainda que existem mais edições em Portugal e no Brasil. Quero voltar a ler esta obra e quem sabe em outra tradução. Talvez a edição de 2023, da Dom Quixote, com tradução de Ana Maria Pereirinha.
Por agora, terminada a primeira leitura, quero simplesmente reflectir e investigar sobre este livro.
February 18, 2024
A great novella. My first Henry James. Sad story of relationship between John Marcher and May Bartram over many years. The Beast in the Jungle refers to Marchers fear of an impending event in his life. I won’t spoil the review by saying what this ultimately turns out to be. I have to say the opening pages had some of the longest sentence structures I have seen. James clearly does not write like Lee Child😁. Nevertheless a great story.
November 8, 2018
«Vorrei vivere ancora per voi, se potessi.»
È la terza volta che lo rileggo nel giro di pochi mesi, e ogni volta aggiungo una parola, sottolineo una frase, afferro qualcosa che la volta precedente mi era sfuggita.
In questa edizione mi aiuta a comprendere meglio il significato di alcuni particolari anche una preziosissima introduzione che mi fa notare, sottolineando il fatto che nessun nome in Henry James è casuale, che «La casa dell'incontro cruciale tra i due si chiama Weatherend e il nome di lei - May - e quello di lui - Marcher - evocano i nomi di due mesi primaverili. Una primavera che non è simbolo di rinascita della vita ma piuttosto luogo di partenza di un cammino esistenziale intriso di malinconia, quello del protagonista alla fine del racconto (...)»
Questa volta non c'era in me l'ansia e l'urgenza di sapere cosa sarebbe successo, anche se, come spesso mi capita con le storie che mi appassionano, anche questa volta ho sperato che davanti a quel camino senza fuoco - e anche questo particolare adesso, alla terza lettura, mi accorgo che assume un significato simbolico molto forte -, mentre May cercava per l'ultima volta di proteggerlo dalla verità, mentre May si alzava dalla poltrona andandogli incontro, ancora una volta io ho sperato che lui capisse.
Ecco la tigre ancora in agguato, ecco il suo balzo: era balzata su Marcher in quel freddo crepuscolo d'aprile quando, pallida e malata, ormai distrutta ma straordinariamente bella e forse ancora in grado di guarire, lasciando la poltrona si era librata come per mostrarsi e costringerlo a indovinare.
[Ancora aprile. Finirò per odiarlo questo mese]
[21 marzo 2012] - Ho già letto questo racconto in un'altra traduzione, ma ho bisogno di rileggerlo ancora per capire meglio alcuni passaggi e confrontarli con l'altra.
Filigrana di parole
C'è un passaggio, nel quarto capitolo, in cui Marcher nota, quasi per la prima volta l'aspetto di May, quando HJ scrive «Pallida quasi come cera, con in volto una serie di rughe e di segni tanto numerosi e sottili che parevano incisi con un ago, con drappeggi d'un bianco tenue messi in rilievo da una sciarpa verde sbiadita, il cui tono delicato risultava ancor più ingentilito dagli anni, May era l'immagine d'una serena e squisita, ma impenetrabile sfinge, la cui testa, per non dire tutta la persona, avrebbe potuto benissimo essere stata incipriata d'argento. Era una sfinge, ma con i suoi petali bianchi e le sue verdi fronde avrebbe anche potuto essere un giglio… ma un giglio artificiale, superbamente imitato e accuratamente conservato immacolato e senza polvere, per quanto non esente da un leggero appassimento e da un intreccio di grinze appena percettibili, conservato appunto sotto una campana di vetro», ed è così che a me appare ogni volta che lo rileggo, come un gioiello di filigrana in cui i fili d'oro che si intrecciano sottilissimi, come le rughe di May, finiscono per creare con una delicata struttura traforata un disegno che sembra essere fragile come la vita, ma del quale ogni volta, che mi incanto a ripercorrerlo con gli occhi, per riscoprirne le parole, sempre uguali eppure ogni volta diverse, mi rendo conto essere sempre più vicina a cogliere la perfezione assoluta.
[30 agosto 2012]
«La vita è quella cosa che ci accade mentre siamo occupati in altri progetti.»
Ci sono momenti nella vita in cui non si riesce a capire l'importanza della presenza di qualcuno, o di qualcosa, se non quando ci si accorge della sua assenza.
Così John Marcher e May Bartram incrociano le proprie vite in un racconto in cui si riesce a percepire sin dalle prime parole tutta l'elettricità che c'è nell'aria, proprio come un momento prima che scoppi il temporale, perché John è in attesa che un fulmine cada sconvolgendo la sua esistenza e lei, May, sembra conoscerne il segreto sin dall'inizio.
Henry James, ancora una volta con una scrittura tortuosa e sottaciuta, narra la storia di un'attesa che guardando al futuro spazza via il presente, e di qualcosa che poteva essere afferrato se solo si fosse allungata una mano; come scriveva molto tempo dopo ne "Il Malinteso" Irène Nèmirovsky, «Ecco, è finita... Io non lo sapevo che era quella, la felicità... E ora è finita…» e lui, John, perso nella giungla, oramai finalmente consapevole, mi è venuto naturale immaginarmelo per sempre qui.
[21 gennaio 2012]
È la terza volta che lo rileggo nel giro di pochi mesi, e ogni volta aggiungo una parola, sottolineo una frase, afferro qualcosa che la volta precedente mi era sfuggita.
In questa edizione mi aiuta a comprendere meglio il significato di alcuni particolari anche una preziosissima introduzione che mi fa notare, sottolineando il fatto che nessun nome in Henry James è casuale, che «La casa dell'incontro cruciale tra i due si chiama Weatherend e il nome di lei - May - e quello di lui - Marcher - evocano i nomi di due mesi primaverili. Una primavera che non è simbolo di rinascita della vita ma piuttosto luogo di partenza di un cammino esistenziale intriso di malinconia, quello del protagonista alla fine del racconto (...)»
Questa volta non c'era in me l'ansia e l'urgenza di sapere cosa sarebbe successo, anche se, come spesso mi capita con le storie che mi appassionano, anche questa volta ho sperato che davanti a quel camino senza fuoco - e anche questo particolare adesso, alla terza lettura, mi accorgo che assume un significato simbolico molto forte -, mentre May cercava per l'ultima volta di proteggerlo dalla verità, mentre May si alzava dalla poltrona andandogli incontro, ancora una volta io ho sperato che lui capisse.
Ecco la tigre ancora in agguato, ecco il suo balzo: era balzata su Marcher in quel freddo crepuscolo d'aprile quando, pallida e malata, ormai distrutta ma straordinariamente bella e forse ancora in grado di guarire, lasciando la poltrona si era librata come per mostrarsi e costringerlo a indovinare.
[Ancora aprile. Finirò per odiarlo questo mese]
[21 marzo 2012] - Ho già letto questo racconto in un'altra traduzione, ma ho bisogno di rileggerlo ancora per capire meglio alcuni passaggi e confrontarli con l'altra.
Filigrana di parole
C'è un passaggio, nel quarto capitolo, in cui Marcher nota, quasi per la prima volta l'aspetto di May, quando HJ scrive «Pallida quasi come cera, con in volto una serie di rughe e di segni tanto numerosi e sottili che parevano incisi con un ago, con drappeggi d'un bianco tenue messi in rilievo da una sciarpa verde sbiadita, il cui tono delicato risultava ancor più ingentilito dagli anni, May era l'immagine d'una serena e squisita, ma impenetrabile sfinge, la cui testa, per non dire tutta la persona, avrebbe potuto benissimo essere stata incipriata d'argento. Era una sfinge, ma con i suoi petali bianchi e le sue verdi fronde avrebbe anche potuto essere un giglio… ma un giglio artificiale, superbamente imitato e accuratamente conservato immacolato e senza polvere, per quanto non esente da un leggero appassimento e da un intreccio di grinze appena percettibili, conservato appunto sotto una campana di vetro», ed è così che a me appare ogni volta che lo rileggo, come un gioiello di filigrana in cui i fili d'oro che si intrecciano sottilissimi, come le rughe di May, finiscono per creare con una delicata struttura traforata un disegno che sembra essere fragile come la vita, ma del quale ogni volta, che mi incanto a ripercorrerlo con gli occhi, per riscoprirne le parole, sempre uguali eppure ogni volta diverse, mi rendo conto essere sempre più vicina a cogliere la perfezione assoluta.
[30 agosto 2012]
«La vita è quella cosa che ci accade mentre siamo occupati in altri progetti.»
Ci sono momenti nella vita in cui non si riesce a capire l'importanza della presenza di qualcuno, o di qualcosa, se non quando ci si accorge della sua assenza.
Così John Marcher e May Bartram incrociano le proprie vite in un racconto in cui si riesce a percepire sin dalle prime parole tutta l'elettricità che c'è nell'aria, proprio come un momento prima che scoppi il temporale, perché John è in attesa che un fulmine cada sconvolgendo la sua esistenza e lei, May, sembra conoscerne il segreto sin dall'inizio.
Henry James, ancora una volta con una scrittura tortuosa e sottaciuta, narra la storia di un'attesa che guardando al futuro spazza via il presente, e di qualcosa che poteva essere afferrato se solo si fosse allungata una mano; come scriveva molto tempo dopo ne "Il Malinteso" Irène Nèmirovsky, «Ecco, è finita... Io non lo sapevo che era quella, la felicità... E ora è finita…» e lui, John, perso nella giungla, oramai finalmente consapevole, mi è venuto naturale immaginarmelo per sempre qui.
[21 gennaio 2012]
November 11, 2017
Sharing can be considered, moral, ethical noble. One exception is the sharing of an identity. Yet it can be accomplished in such a way that sets the two sharing it apart, above others. Their lives can be molded, hardened in a kiln, and for them provide a life’s meaning as long as no else knows. As long through the years they maintain their investment and invisibility; appear to others as cloaked in the same ordinariness as the passing throngs.
The shared trope of James’ Beast In The Jungle, is John Marcher’s premonition, wrung taut, that a beast does reside in him and that at some point, within moments, a moment, further down the road, will appear and do horrible harm to him. Being left haunted, mucked in an existence of continual dread, stands him closer to true existence. Certainly to May Bartram. They form a life, Platonic, close, hovered around this. May ramps up the suspense over the years by leaking out she knows of what this beast within Marcher may be.
Who is to determine what is meaningful? Who is to determine what is the sum of sacrifice if it not only conjures meaning but staves off aloneness? Who is to determine what is the arid sum and when it needs to be paid?
James takes this intrigue by parsing the psychological threads in nuanced weaving, in eloquent style, to burn beneath the wording - I know, I looked and now have my aching hand wrapped and bandaged-until what is congealed is the masterful questioning of what is existence, time, meaning, identity, life beyond our own constrictions.
The shared trope of James’ Beast In The Jungle, is John Marcher’s premonition, wrung taut, that a beast does reside in him and that at some point, within moments, a moment, further down the road, will appear and do horrible harm to him. Being left haunted, mucked in an existence of continual dread, stands him closer to true existence. Certainly to May Bartram. They form a life, Platonic, close, hovered around this. May ramps up the suspense over the years by leaking out she knows of what this beast within Marcher may be.
Who is to determine what is meaningful? Who is to determine what is the sum of sacrifice if it not only conjures meaning but staves off aloneness? Who is to determine what is the arid sum and when it needs to be paid?
James takes this intrigue by parsing the psychological threads in nuanced weaving, in eloquent style, to burn beneath the wording - I know, I looked and now have my aching hand wrapped and bandaged-until what is congealed is the masterful questioning of what is existence, time, meaning, identity, life beyond our own constrictions.
June 8, 2021
“ Ele tinha caminhado, a despeito de si mesmo, para esta mudança de sentimento, e vagando pela face da terra, tinha vagado, podia-se dizer, da periferia ao centro do seu deserto”
“... um gemido subiu-lhe aos lábios quando se lembrou que ela tinha rezado para que ele não soubesse. O horror de despertar - este era o conhecimento - conhecimento sob cujo sopro as lágrimas em seus olhos pareciam gelar. Através delas, entretanto, tentou prendê-lo, segurá-lo; manteve-o diante de si para que pudesse sentir a dor. Isto, pelo menos, atrasado e amargo, tinha algum gosto de vida.”
Uau que livro!
Tão real como muitos não conseguem enxergar o que está bem na sua frente e só se dão conta quando é tarde demais.
“... um gemido subiu-lhe aos lábios quando se lembrou que ela tinha rezado para que ele não soubesse. O horror de despertar - este era o conhecimento - conhecimento sob cujo sopro as lágrimas em seus olhos pareciam gelar. Através delas, entretanto, tentou prendê-lo, segurá-lo; manteve-o diante de si para que pudesse sentir a dor. Isto, pelo menos, atrasado e amargo, tinha algum gosto de vida.”
Uau que livro!
Tão real como muitos não conseguem enxergar o que está bem na sua frente e só se dão conta quando é tarde demais.
November 28, 2018
This is the stuff Greek tragedies are made of. Potent, beautiful and heart-breaking! This is a story about a man who lives in anticipation of something terrible that is to come, but when it happens he misses it. A woman, his best friend, warns him of it but it's too late. Could I see the ending? Yes, I most certainly could but somehow it didn't spoil the enjoyment of this story one bit.
To a modern mind, The Beast In the Jungle might seem overblown, too emotional and not very convincing but luckily I don't have a modern mind. I absolutely loved it and clung onto every page. I was moved to tears, even though I could anticipate just about everything from the very start. The ending felt so dramatic, even if it was (as I emphasized) only expected.
The sensibility of this writer is outstanding. I will probably never tire of his writing. One thing I especially appreciate about this story is that it can be read in two ways, as a metaphor for fear of life itself and what it can do to us, and as an actual story. In a way, we are our own worst enemy, the beast in the jungle. The tiger that lurks in the jungle is hidden within our own heart. This story is a wonderful reminder of that.
To a modern mind, The Beast In the Jungle might seem overblown, too emotional and not very convincing but luckily I don't have a modern mind. I absolutely loved it and clung onto every page. I was moved to tears, even though I could anticipate just about everything from the very start. The ending felt so dramatic, even if it was (as I emphasized) only expected.
The sensibility of this writer is outstanding. I will probably never tire of his writing. One thing I especially appreciate about this story is that it can be read in two ways, as a metaphor for fear of life itself and what it can do to us, and as an actual story. In a way, we are our own worst enemy, the beast in the jungle. The tiger that lurks in the jungle is hidden within our own heart. This story is a wonderful reminder of that.
October 5, 2011
This is truly an unforgettable psychological portrait. John Marcher, the protagonist, is re-acquainted with May Bartram, a woman he knew ten years earlier, who remembers his odd secret-- Marcher is seized with the belief that his life is to be defined by some catastrophic or spectacular event, lying in wait for him like a "beast in the jungle." Miss Bartram is stupefied by this, but does nothing to make him think that she thinks him odd for such a belief. In fact, she takes him very seriously and promises to stand by him and wait with him for this catastrophe to occur.
Thus, Miss Bartram decides to take a flat nearby in London, and to spend her days with Marcher curiously awaiting what fate has in stall for John. Of course Marcher is a self-centered egoist, believing that he is precluded from marrying so that he does not subject his wife to his "spectacular fate". The saddest part of the story is that as he sits idly by and allows the best years of his life to pass, he takes May down as well, until the denouement wherein he learns that the great misfortune of his life was to throw it away, and to ignore the love of a good woman, based upon his preposterous sense of foreboding.
This is the perfect example of a man who ruins his life by being extremely careful and fearful of "the bad things that might occur if he marries…." He abstained from marrying the woman who eventually turned out to be his life partner, just because he was too afraid about the treacherous events that he wrongly predicted for himself. That Miss Bartram would be willing to waste her life with him with no guarantees of anything is even more tragic. Marcher's behaviour, in its very essence, is an extreme case of egotism and childishness, while Miss Bartram is a deep, poetic, mature, and intelligent woman. My question is, then, what does she find in Marcher? Why does she sacrifice her life for him? These are questions that yet need to be answered. What initially began as a trivial interest in Marcher and his silly occurrences turned into a fixation, perhaps love for him. As he takes her with him, she can no longer escape and is immersed in his world. She becomes the victim of his downfall and ignorance.
It is a beautiful and haunting tale of egotism, fear of the unknown, and unrequited love. Henry James invented Marcher as a way to show us the mirror. After all, don't we all fear the unknown to a certain extent? Marcher is a man frozen by his fears and a sense of impending disaster, and the moral of the story teaches us all that the only thing we have to fear is fear itself.
Thus, Miss Bartram decides to take a flat nearby in London, and to spend her days with Marcher curiously awaiting what fate has in stall for John. Of course Marcher is a self-centered egoist, believing that he is precluded from marrying so that he does not subject his wife to his "spectacular fate". The saddest part of the story is that as he sits idly by and allows the best years of his life to pass, he takes May down as well, until the denouement wherein he learns that the great misfortune of his life was to throw it away, and to ignore the love of a good woman, based upon his preposterous sense of foreboding.
This is the perfect example of a man who ruins his life by being extremely careful and fearful of "the bad things that might occur if he marries…." He abstained from marrying the woman who eventually turned out to be his life partner, just because he was too afraid about the treacherous events that he wrongly predicted for himself. That Miss Bartram would be willing to waste her life with him with no guarantees of anything is even more tragic. Marcher's behaviour, in its very essence, is an extreme case of egotism and childishness, while Miss Bartram is a deep, poetic, mature, and intelligent woman. My question is, then, what does she find in Marcher? Why does she sacrifice her life for him? These are questions that yet need to be answered. What initially began as a trivial interest in Marcher and his silly occurrences turned into a fixation, perhaps love for him. As he takes her with him, she can no longer escape and is immersed in his world. She becomes the victim of his downfall and ignorance.
It is a beautiful and haunting tale of egotism, fear of the unknown, and unrequited love. Henry James invented Marcher as a way to show us the mirror. After all, don't we all fear the unknown to a certain extent? Marcher is a man frozen by his fears and a sense of impending disaster, and the moral of the story teaches us all that the only thing we have to fear is fear itself.
June 11, 2025
Um dos livros do meu ❤️
Aplica-se uma frase do escritor húngaro Sándor Márai, do livro "As Velas Ardem Até Ao Fim": Quando o destino, numa forma qualquer, se dirige diretamente a nós, quase nos chama pelo nosso nome, no fundo da ansiedade e do medo sempre irradia uma certa atração, porque o homem não quer só viver a todo o custo, não, o homem quer conhecer e aceitar o seu destino por completo e a todo o custo, até à custa do perigo e da destruição.
O nosso protagonista só não sabia que, para si, o perigo e a destruição residiria precisamente no contrário, no facto de a todo o custo este não querer conhecer e aceitar a voz que chamava pelo seu nome...
Aplica-se uma frase do escritor húngaro Sándor Márai, do livro "As Velas Ardem Até Ao Fim": Quando o destino, numa forma qualquer, se dirige diretamente a nós, quase nos chama pelo nosso nome, no fundo da ansiedade e do medo sempre irradia uma certa atração, porque o homem não quer só viver a todo o custo, não, o homem quer conhecer e aceitar o seu destino por completo e a todo o custo, até à custa do perigo e da destruição.
O nosso protagonista só não sabia que, para si, o perigo e a destruição residiria precisamente no contrário, no facto de a todo o custo este não querer conhecer e aceitar a voz que chamava pelo seu nome...
November 27, 2014
The concept was interesting and I enjoyed how unlikable both of the characters were, but, in the end, the stiff, over-done writing made the prose extremely difficult to read. I wouldn't have finished it if I didn't have to read it for school.
February 6, 2013
Read the eBook version on my iPhone accompanied by the 133 BPM heart monitor heartbeat of my unborn daughter as my wife a few feet from me dozed after umpteenth hours of slow labor. Decided to read it because the hardback book I'm reading isn't backlit and they've dimmed the lights in our room. This was, therefore, a first read distracted by several nurses, a kindly midwife wearing a lightweight welder-like face visor, and an anesthesiologist. Not exactly read with morning coffee, or while libambulating, or even relaxing in bed. First impressions nevertheless: I haven't read much Henry James. He's rarely read these days, I feel. Of all the so-called major canonical writers, writer friends never bring him up as an influence or even suggest him as someone to read. After reading this, 1) it's clear he's great and 2) it's also clear why folks don't tend to jump up/down about him. In this one, at least, he suggests a setting and a scene, and then the world recedes, replaced by language. Reminded me of William Gass without the fun, Ben Marcus without the word substitutions and weird breath pathologies, and Poe without much story. The language's role seems less to clarify than to obfuscate reality, which fits this one that's all about withholding Marcher's secret dealio known only by his old lady friend Bartrum. Like Pavel in Fathers and Sons, once again, a more or less 19th century bachelor is described as queer and gay (I wonder if these descriptions established the contemporary terms or pre-date them). Maybe this is a metafictional tale about the storytelling technique of withholding. Or maybe it's simply about closeted dudes and their faithful beards. Or maybe it's about unrequited/undeclared love and a fear of solitude when one's platonic friend's moved on. All these most likely are in play, and more, since as Monsieur Proustitute's review mentions, this text requires re-reading, mostly because of how the sentences thicket and squirm and unfurl and flow and eddy and force a sleep-deprived distracted 21st century reader on the labor and delivery ward of "the nation's first hospital" to dream off about a movie he half-remembers but that he may have simply dreamed about while in grad school about a futuristic dystopia involving UFOs set in a Midwest where no one reads Henry James . . . Anyway, I need to read more Henry James. I see why no one reads him anymore but I also see why, especially for fans of exposition and summarized dramatization, reading him can't hurt.(Note: the goodreads free eBook functionality thingy worked well on my phone, although it did accidentally add to my profile a giant quote I tried to bookmark and it added HJ as one of my favorite authors.)
March 25, 2019
You said you had had from your earliest time, as the deepest thing within you, the sense of being kept for something rare and strange, possibly prodigious and terrible, that was sooner or later to happen to you, that you had in your bones the foreboding and the conviction of, and that would perhaps overwhelm you.
⌛️ I absolutely loved this story (I read it for my English class where I have to analyze an extract).
⌛️Henry James' style is so unique and although it took me a bit of time to get used it, the story is incredible and beautiful. It’s quite a short book but the lesson you take from it is heartbreaking and educational at the same time. The author created a remarquable atmosphere where I felt as John Marcher felt, waiting eternally for something to happen to him.
⌛️Fatalism plays a huge part (if not the main part) in this story and there's something so final about it. As someone who asks herself so many questions, I think it was important for me to read this and remember that sometimes you need to stop asking yourself questions, live in the moment and enjoy yourself.
⌛️I suggest you read this, it won’t take you too long. It’s a truly special book in my eyes and I’m really glad I read it.
💫Keep up with me on my blog! 💫
⌛️ I absolutely loved this story (I read it for my English class where I have to analyze an extract).
⌛️Henry James' style is so unique and although it took me a bit of time to get used it, the story is incredible and beautiful. It’s quite a short book but the lesson you take from it is heartbreaking and educational at the same time. The author created a remarquable atmosphere where I felt as John Marcher felt, waiting eternally for something to happen to him.
⌛️Fatalism plays a huge part (if not the main part) in this story and there's something so final about it. As someone who asks herself so many questions, I think it was important for me to read this and remember that sometimes you need to stop asking yourself questions, live in the moment and enjoy yourself.
⌛️I suggest you read this, it won’t take you too long. It’s a truly special book in my eyes and I’m really glad I read it.
💫Keep up with me on my blog! 💫
March 9, 2020
"ΤΟ ΘΗΡΙΟ ΣΤΗ ΖΟΥΓΚΛΑ"
ΕΝΑ ΘΗΡΙΟ ΕΓΚΛΩΒΙΣΜΕΝΟ, ΠΟΥ ΔΕΝ ΜΠΟΡΕΙ ΝΑ ΒΓΕΙ ΣΤΗΝ ΕΠΙΦΑΝΕΙΑ...Κ ΟΤΑΝ ΒΓΕΙ ΚΑΤΑΣΠΑΡΑΖΕΙ ΤΑ ΠΑΝΤΑ.
ΜΙΑ ΝΟΥΒΕΛΑ ΕΜΠΟΤΙΣΜΕΝΗ ΑΠΟ ΑΚΡΑΤΟ ΕΓΩΙΣΜΟ, ΑΔΙΑΦΟΡΙΑ Κ ΑΠΑΘΕΙΑ ΓΙΑ ΤΟΝ ΣΥΝΑΝΘΡΩΠΟ. Ο ΜΑΡΤΣΕΛ ΕΧΕΙ ΚΛΕΙΔΩΣΕΙ ΣΥΝΑΙΣΘΗΜΑΤΙΚΑ Κ ΔΕ ΘΥΜΑΤΑΙ ΤΑ ΛΟΓΙΑ ΤΟΥ Κ ΤΙΣ ΥΠΟΣΧΕΣΕΙΣ ΤΟΥ. ΔΥΣΤΥΧΩΣ ΔΕΝ ΤΟΝ ΕΝΔΙΑΦΕΡΕΙ ΠΟΥ ΕΧΕΙ ΞΕΧΑΣΕΙ.
ΘΑ ΣΥΝΑΝΤΗΣΕΙ ΤΗ ΜΑΙΗ ΜΕΤΑ ΑΠΟ ΠΟΛΛΑ ΧΡΟΝΙΑ Η ΟΠΟΙΑ ΘΑ ΠΡΟΣΠΑΘΗΣΕΙ ΜΕΣΩ ΤΩΝ ΜΑΚΡΟΣΚΕΛΩΝ ΣΥΖΗΤΗΣΕΩΝ ΝΑ ΤΟΝ ΤΑΡΑΚΟΥΝΗΣΕΙ. ΣΚΟΠΟΣ ΤΗΣ ΝΑ ΑΝΑΒΙΩΣΕΙ ΤΙΣ ΣΤΙΓΜΕΣ ΣΤΗ ΝΑΠΟΛΗ. ΣΤΙΓΜΕΣ ΠΟΥ ΚΑΙ ΤΟΤΕ ΗΤΑΝ ΚΕΝΕΣ.
Ο ΜΑΡΤΣΕΛ ΑΝΑΖΗΤΑ ΤΟ ΤΙΠΟΤΑ...ΑΥΤΗ Η ΕΠΙΛΟΓΗ Ή ΕΠΙΘΥΜΙΑ, ΟΥΣΙΑΣΤΙΚΑ, ΘΑ ΕΠΙΤΕΥΧΘΕΙ ΑΦΟΥ ΣΕ ΟΛΗ ΤΟΥ ΤΗ ΖΩΗ ΘΑ ΖΕΙ ΜΕΣΑ ΣΤΗ ΜΟΝΑΞΙΑ. ΜΕΧΡΙ Κ ΤΗ ΣΤΙΓΜΗ ΠΟΥ ΠΑΡΙΣΤΑΤΟ ΣΤΟ ΠΙΟ ΕΙΔΕΧΘΕΣ ΠΕΡΙΣΤΑΤΙΚΟ ΔΕ ΛΥΓΙΖΕΙ, ΧΑΝΕΤΑΙ ΣΤΙΣ ΣΚΕΨΕΙΣ ΤΟΥ... ΒΥΘΙΖΕΤΑΙ ΣΤΗΝ ΑΒΥΣΣΟ... ΠΡΟΣΠΑΘΕΙ, ΠΡΟΣΠΑΘΕΙ ΝΑ ΒΡΕΙ ΑΠΑΝΤΗΣΕΙΣ... Ο ΤΥΦΛΟΣ ΤΟΥ ΕΓΩΙΣΜΟΣ ΤΟΝ ΕΜΠΟΔΙΖΕΙ... ΔΕΝ ΤΟΝ ΑΦΗΝΕΙ ΝΑ ΑΝΤΙΚΡΥΣΕΙ ΤΟ "ΘΗΡΙΟ."
ΣΤΟ ΤΕΛΟΣ, ΜΠΡΟΣΤΑ ΣΤΗΝ ΩΜΗ ΠΡΑΓΜΑΤΙΚΟΤΗΤΑ "ΘΑ ΠΕΣΕΙ" ΗΤΤΗΜΕΝΟΣ ΑΠΟ ΤΗΝ ΑΠΕΡΙΣΚΕΨΙΑ ΤΟΥ Κ ΤΗ ΣΑΘΡΗ ΤΟΥ ΣΥΜΠΕΡΙΦΟΡΑ...
ΕΝΑ ΘΗΡΙΟ ΕΓΚΛΩΒΙΣΜΕΝΟ, ΠΟΥ ΔΕΝ ΜΠΟΡΕΙ ΝΑ ΒΓΕΙ ΣΤΗΝ ΕΠΙΦΑΝΕΙΑ...Κ ΟΤΑΝ ΒΓΕΙ ΚΑΤΑΣΠΑΡΑΖΕΙ ΤΑ ΠΑΝΤΑ.
ΜΙΑ ΝΟΥΒΕΛΑ ΕΜΠΟΤΙΣΜΕΝΗ ΑΠΟ ΑΚΡΑΤΟ ΕΓΩΙΣΜΟ, ΑΔΙΑΦΟΡΙΑ Κ ΑΠΑΘΕΙΑ ΓΙΑ ΤΟΝ ΣΥΝΑΝΘΡΩΠΟ. Ο ΜΑΡΤΣΕΛ ΕΧΕΙ ΚΛΕΙΔΩΣΕΙ ΣΥΝΑΙΣΘΗΜΑΤΙΚΑ Κ ΔΕ ΘΥΜΑΤΑΙ ΤΑ ΛΟΓΙΑ ΤΟΥ Κ ΤΙΣ ΥΠΟΣΧΕΣΕΙΣ ΤΟΥ. ΔΥΣΤΥΧΩΣ ΔΕΝ ΤΟΝ ΕΝΔΙΑΦΕΡΕΙ ΠΟΥ ΕΧΕΙ ΞΕΧΑΣΕΙ.
ΘΑ ΣΥΝΑΝΤΗΣΕΙ ΤΗ ΜΑΙΗ ΜΕΤΑ ΑΠΟ ΠΟΛΛΑ ΧΡΟΝΙΑ Η ΟΠΟΙΑ ΘΑ ΠΡΟΣΠΑΘΗΣΕΙ ΜΕΣΩ ΤΩΝ ΜΑΚΡΟΣΚΕΛΩΝ ΣΥΖΗΤΗΣΕΩΝ ΝΑ ΤΟΝ ΤΑΡΑΚΟΥΝΗΣΕΙ. ΣΚΟΠΟΣ ΤΗΣ ΝΑ ΑΝΑΒΙΩΣΕΙ ΤΙΣ ΣΤΙΓΜΕΣ ΣΤΗ ΝΑΠΟΛΗ. ΣΤΙΓΜΕΣ ΠΟΥ ΚΑΙ ΤΟΤΕ ΗΤΑΝ ΚΕΝΕΣ.
Ο ΜΑΡΤΣΕΛ ΑΝΑΖΗΤΑ ΤΟ ΤΙΠΟΤΑ...ΑΥΤΗ Η ΕΠΙΛΟΓΗ Ή ΕΠΙΘΥΜΙΑ, ΟΥΣΙΑΣΤΙΚΑ, ΘΑ ΕΠΙΤΕΥΧΘΕΙ ΑΦΟΥ ΣΕ ΟΛΗ ΤΟΥ ΤΗ ΖΩΗ ΘΑ ΖΕΙ ΜΕΣΑ ΣΤΗ ΜΟΝΑΞΙΑ. ΜΕΧΡΙ Κ ΤΗ ΣΤΙΓΜΗ ΠΟΥ ΠΑΡΙΣΤΑΤΟ ΣΤΟ ΠΙΟ ΕΙΔΕΧΘΕΣ ΠΕΡΙΣΤΑΤΙΚΟ ΔΕ ΛΥΓΙΖΕΙ, ΧΑΝΕΤΑΙ ΣΤΙΣ ΣΚΕΨΕΙΣ ΤΟΥ... ΒΥΘΙΖΕΤΑΙ ΣΤΗΝ ΑΒΥΣΣΟ... ΠΡΟΣΠΑΘΕΙ, ΠΡΟΣΠΑΘΕΙ ΝΑ ΒΡΕΙ ΑΠΑΝΤΗΣΕΙΣ... Ο ΤΥΦΛΟΣ ΤΟΥ ΕΓΩΙΣΜΟΣ ΤΟΝ ΕΜΠΟΔΙΖΕΙ... ΔΕΝ ΤΟΝ ΑΦΗΝΕΙ ΝΑ ΑΝΤΙΚΡΥΣΕΙ ΤΟ "ΘΗΡΙΟ."
ΣΤΟ ΤΕΛΟΣ, ΜΠΡΟΣΤΑ ΣΤΗΝ ΩΜΗ ΠΡΑΓΜΑΤΙΚΟΤΗΤΑ "ΘΑ ΠΕΣΕΙ" ΗΤΤΗΜΕΝΟΣ ΑΠΟ ΤΗΝ ΑΠΕΡΙΣΚΕΨΙΑ ΤΟΥ Κ ΤΗ ΣΑΘΡΗ ΤΟΥ ΣΥΜΠΕΡΙΦΟΡΑ...
March 14, 2020
A masterpiece -- As revealing as King Henry could get. ~ Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick titles her lengthy essay on this work, "The Beast in the Closet." Or simply, she adds, "Male sexual panic." John Marcher's "secret," "his singularity" -- is....
January 11, 2022
A short perplexing work. Another reviewer here (the talented “Sketchbook”) refers to Sedgwick’s Epistemology of the Closet who argues that The Beast here, threatening to spring, is male sexual desire.
And thus I read this short novel through that filter, that Marcher’s secret was actually male sexual panic.
Certainly this novella can be viewed through that lens. Such a secret, as a metaphor, is “death” for his supposed romantic interest, May Bertram.
All in all, I found the work muddled and challenging. Was there a payoff? — not for this lazy reader.
I feel bad only giving this 3 stars, but that reflects how much work I put into this versus how much I was able to get out of it. Poor old Henry James never felt free to openly address certain matters close to his heart. I should have just read Sketchbook’s review and saved the time for something clearly and delightfully scandalous.
I’m afraid endless pandemics make me cranky.
And thus I read this short novel through that filter, that Marcher’s secret was actually male sexual panic.
Certainly this novella can be viewed through that lens. Such a secret, as a metaphor, is “death” for his supposed romantic interest, May Bertram.
All in all, I found the work muddled and challenging. Was there a payoff? — not for this lazy reader.
I feel bad only giving this 3 stars, but that reflects how much work I put into this versus how much I was able to get out of it. Poor old Henry James never felt free to openly address certain matters close to his heart. I should have just read Sketchbook’s review and saved the time for something clearly and delightfully scandalous.
I’m afraid endless pandemics make me cranky.
October 31, 2020
Μια άκρως ''εγκεφαλική'' νουβέλα. Δεν μπορείς να την αφήσεις μέχρι να ανακαλύψεις το μυστικό που κρύβει, αν και κάποια στιγμή, προς το τέλος, αρχίζεις να το υποψιάζεσαι. Η αλήθεια (μας) και ο εγωισμός δεν συμβαδίζουν και έτσι αρχίζουμε να μετράμε χαμένες ευκαιρίες. Και όλα αυτά δοσμένα με την ιδιαίτερα αξιόλογη γραφή του Henry James.
December 9, 2019
I had to read this for class. I usually don't enjoy this kind of "what's the meaning of life" books and this was no exception. I liked the fact that it was short and we found out the meaning and the "beast in the jungle" pretty quickly, but other than that this book just wasn't my cup of tea.
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