First Love

by Samuel Beckett

This is the first English publication of Samuel Beckett’s own translation of Premier Amour, written at the time he was working on his first French stories immediately after working on Watt and preceding Molloy and the early plays, after the war. Following First Love is a narrative experimentation of his earlier work and has not yet reached the obsessive tone of the narratives in the Molloy trilogy. It was suppressed by the author until 1970 when he allowed first French publication. The translation was completed in early 1973.

Genres: Fiction, Short Stories, Classics, Romance, Literature, Irish Literature, France

64 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 1970

About the author

Novels of Samuel Barclay Beckett, Irish writer, include Murphy in 1938 and Malone Dies in 1951; a wider audience know his absurdist plays, such as Waiting for Godot in 1952 and Krapp's Last Tape in 1959, and he won the Nobel Prize of 1969 for literature.

Samuel Barclay Beckett, an avant-garde theater director and poet, lived in France for most of his adult life. He used English and French. His work offers a bleak, tragicomic outlook on human nature, often coupled with black gallows humor.

People regard most influence of Samuel Barclay Beckett of the 20th century. James Augustine Aloysius Joyce strongly influenced him, whom people consider as one modernist. People sometimes consider him as an inspiration to many later first postmodernists. He is one of the key in what Martin Esslin called the "theater of the absurd". His later career worked with increasing minimalism.

People awarded Samuel Barclay Beckett "for his writing, which—in new forms for the novel and drama—in the destitution of modern man acquires its elevation".

In 1984, people elected Samuel Barclay Bennett as Saoi of Aosdána.

Reviews

[Fergus, Weaver of Autistic Webs · Rating 5 out of 5]

I'm completely and utterly BLOWN AWAY by this savagely tender story! Tenderness in Beckett? Yes, absolutely.

It's so strangely Beautiful.

We are back in the beginnings of his steely and mordant style which dominated Literary Europe for fifty years into the future. Though the War had finally ended France was still unaware of any change - in fact, the deeply depressive outlook of her writers REFUSED to Start Over.

The Nazi occupation had ended their blithe optimism. Life was But a Drudge. And Beckett led the pack in the new Realism.

The story is, indeed, of first love. Or mordant love as it is in an old man like me.

Love is now scarred, like my hapless and sometimes rueful life. That's how it is for some of us lucky septuagenarians. Yet through our glass darkly is a pale, watery joy.

Such is the narrator's first love, for a nondescript frumpish lady of ill-gotten means. Would you like to see my apartment, Anna - the lady - asks?

Oh do not ask what is it,
Let us go and make our visit.

(In the room the women come and go, talking of Michaelangelo!)

The old man whom Anna asks to stay over (Beckett's burnt out alter ego) will plant the seed of hope within her crumpled hopelessness.

And be thereafter rudely shaken from the not unpleasant reveries of hobodom to which he, after so much pain, is inured.

Old Hobo loves Drudge. Hobo loses Drudge. Drudge returns, loves Old Hobo.

And so, everyone in the end is happy ever after - NOT.

No, no one is really happy now.

The old man and Anna re-embrace their sadly happy lives -

Alone again -

Though they have found therein a new purpose in life.

A "life of significant soil..."

All summed up in a Symbol:

The Dead Hyacinth of First (and last) Love;

But for each of them la vita nuova!

[Helga Martiros · Rating 4 out of 5]

Either you love or you don't.

This semi-autobiographical tragicomedy- the stress is on ‘tragi’- is the story of our homeless narrator’s meeting his ‘first love’-a prostitute- on a bench.

She disturbed me exceedingly, even absent.

But this is not a love story.
This is the monologue of a man who has lost everything; who likes to hang about in graveyards; who writes the name of the woman he has just met in the excrement of a cow and considers it an evidence of his true love.
In short, this is the story of a man who is created and nurtured by Beckett.

Hereunder lies the above who up below
So hourly died that he survived till now.

[Carmo · Rating 5 out of 5]

Quando se pensa em primeiros amores, pensa-se em sentimentos idílicos e momentos ternurentos. Esqueçam lá essas ideias melosas, leiam este livrinho, riam-se com ele ( não dele) e quando chegarem à última pagina, à última frase, e sentirem a tristeza da mesma, vão repensar tudo o que leram.
Deste autor só tinha lido À Espera de Godot, e a sensação repete-se; Beckett lê-se nas entrelinhas, lê-se numa hora e depois andamos um dia a pensar nele e a interiorizá-lo.
Daí, que lê-lo, comece a ser cada vez mais intimidante.
Mas é também um desafio tentar descortinar atrás de um texto seco, direto, as complexidades psicológicas das personagens e entrar na estranheza das suas atitudes.
Beckett baralha-nos, comove-nos, e o mais certo é fecharmos o livro num grande sufoco; a piada ficou para trás e deixou um rasto de angústia.

[Cody · Rating 5 out of 5]

Oh, nothing less than just perfect. Written between Watt and Molloy, this is the dead-center between those two very different Becketts. The expansiveness is being reined in, the style finalized, the humor sharp as ever. Fuck it, I'll be that guy: this is one of my favorite Beckett novels full point.

But for fun, read the most-liked review on here for an exceptionally erudite explication (eee!) of an alternative opinion. It's no less valid than mine.

[Oziel Bispo · Rating 4 out of 5]

Jovem é expulso de sua casa após a morte de seu  pai, e passa a vagar feito um mendigo pelas cidades circunvizinhas até que encontra Lulu em um banco de uma praça.Com o tempo Lulu lhe oferece sua casa como moradia.

Beckett narra o que  acontece com uma pessoa contaminada com o amor, ridicularizando até às vezes beirar o absurdo. Um amor que nos complica a vida, que tira nossa privacidade, liberdade, e faz com que sintamos falta da pessoa amada  quando estamos separados, e faz com que queiramos nos separar quando estamos juntos.

Escrito  em 1945, é uma das obras mais pessoais  de Beckett que somente autorizou sua publicação em 1970.

[Andrès Snauwaert]

I understand why he was hesitant to publish this.

[Paulo Sousa · Rating 4 out of 5]

Livro 6°/Jan//6°/2017

Título: Primeiro amor
Título original: Premier amour
Primeira publicação: 1970
Autor: Samuel Beckett (Irlanda)
Editora: Cosac Naify
Páginas: 32
Minha classificação: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

_____________________________________________________

Primeiro amor, embora publicado originalmente em francês, é fruto da lavra do irlandês Samuel Beckett, cuja boa parte da vida tenha vivido na França.
Esta pequena novela, curtíssima, mas muito bem cuidada nesta minha edição da finada (mas saudosa) Cosac Naify, traz um projeto gráfico muito elegante, onde o texto vem talhado apenas nas páginas pares e, nas ímpares, valorizada pelos desenhos perturbadores da tradutora Célia Euvaldo.
É o típico livro que nada se identifica com o título, que, embora bem romântico, no corpo do texto, uma historieta conturbada pelo protagonista, uma espécie de Hofmeester francês (livro Tirza, Arnon Grunberg, @radiolondreseditores) onde é misturado morte, cinismo, ironia.
É meu primeiro contato com Beckett, mas esta rápida leitura, embora psicológica e de uma densidade incomum, me deixou gostinho de quero mais... O livro em si, já é uma obra de arte, por dentro como por fora.
Recomendadíssimo!

[WillemC · Rating 3 out of 5]

In deze korte bundel zijn vier verhalen samengebracht, waarvan er mij twee - "Het einde" en "Verstoten" - erg konden boeien, het titelverhaal best wel oké was en één zo saai en dom dat ik het zelfs niet heb uitgelezen: "Het kalmeringsmiddel". Enkel de eerste twee vertellingen komen in de buurt van het niveau van "Molloy" en "Malone sterft" en sluiten er met hun ronddwalende, vervreemde clochardfiguren die in de drek slapen inhoudelijk ook wel bij aan. Een beetje het tegengestelde van Hesses zwerversromantiek. 3.5/5!

"Bij vlagen voelde ik zijn houten leven in mij binnendringen tot ik zelf louter een oud stuk hout was. Er was zelfs een gat voor mijn cyste."

"Hoe ze zich ook wassen, de levenden, hoe ze zich ook parfumeren, ze stinken."

"Dat is het voordeel van de verdrinkingsdood, een van de voordelen, krabben komen nooit te vroeg."

[Anna · Rating 3 out of 5]

could have been crazier could have been more viscerally disgusting could have been more unhinged

[Hossein M. · Rating 5 out of 5]

عجب داستانی!

با ترجمه‌ی جناب بدیعی خوندم (منتشرشده در مجله‌ی سمرقند). زیاد سانسور شده بود، ولی اغلب جاهایی که افتاده بود رو خالی گذاشته بودن. تقریبا یک‌سوم‌ش رو با متن انگلیسی تطبیق دادم. بدیعی سعی کرده سبک بکت رو حفظ کنه ولی انگلیسیِ بکت هم‌چنان پرویرگول‌تر و منقطع‌تر بود. شاید فرانسه‌ی بکت، که بدیعی احتمالاً از روی اون ترجمه کرده، از این نظر، با انگلیسی متفاوت باشه.

فایل‌ ترجمه‌ی فارسی رو این‌‌جا گذاشته‌م:
https://t.me/hallofshits/4601

[Lealdo]

Não tenho a menor ideia do que Beckett quis expressar aqui. Gostei, somewhat, mas não posso dizer que tenha entendido, tampouco sou capaz de recomendar, nesses termos.

[Rita · Rating 5 out of 5]

Um Cemitério. Um banco de jardim. Urtigas. Bosta de vaca. Lulu ou Anne. A morte. A vida. O amor. O medo. Humor cáustico. Genial.

[Adriana Scarpin · Rating 4 out of 5]

Acabei de ler The Father, Love, and Banishment da Julia Kristeva (vocês não imaginam como foi difícil achar esse texto) que analisa o conto Primeiro Amor do Beckett, sob uma perspectiva psicanalítica e semiótica, focando na figura do sujeito falante e na sua relação com a linguagem. Kristeva argumenta que a narrativa representa a morte do pai e o colapso da civilização cristã ocidental, onde o sentido permanece exilado em um reino de morte e decadência. O protagonista experimenta um amor de banimento, um estado de isolamento onde o afeto só é possível através do distanciamento da autoridade paterna e da aceitação do objeto amado como algo trivial ou residual. Kristeva observa que, enquanto o homem busca coerência no nome do Pai e da Morte, a figura feminina é frequentemente relegada ao não-ser ou ao balbucio reprimido. Dessa forma, a escrita de Beckett revela a tensão entre a lei simbólica paternal e o desejo de sobreviver ao vazio deixado por essa autoridade ausente. A análise conclui que o ato de escrever e amar surge dessa orfandade simbólica, consolidando uma existência pautada pelo luto permanente e pela busca de significado em um mundo desencantado.
O que nos leva diretamente à adaptação cinematográfica que Balabanov fez nas ruínas da União Soviética de 1991. No pós guerra Beckett escreveu novelinhas/contos que foram amalgamadas nessa Happy Days do Balabanov, inclusive Primeiro Amor, então dá sim para fazer um paralelo do que Beckett vivera nas ruínas da Europa da Segunda Guerra e a decorrocada da União Soviética nos anos 90.
YouTube ( https://youtu.be/MgSW7GroN7I )

[CKPineapple · Rating 4 out of 5]

I fully expected this to be a melancholic story but “First Love” was definitely not that. I was pleasantly surprised by how the comedic turn complemented Beckett’s classic nihilism to give a rather unique sense of humour. It definitely diverges from his previous novellas and is without a doubt the funniest one of them all.

Favourite quote? “The living wash in vain, in vain perfume themselves, they stink.”

Favourite moment? When the crying stayed.

[Pep · Rating 4 out of 5]

Un tânăr care vrea să fie lăsat în pace (eu), își găsește dragostea (oare?) și de aici pornește toată distracția. Beckett tratează totul în stilul lui clasic: ironie, absurd și dispreț cordial față de ideea de iubire.

Dat afară din casa tatălui (după moartea acestuia), personajul își petrece timpul pe o bancă. Acolo o cunoaște pe Lulu sau Anne (depinde dacă vreți un nume din două silabe sau dintr-o silaba). La început o tratează cu dispreț. Nu-l interesează nimic. Ca pe final să devină fascinat de... apartamentul ei. Ce credeți că face? Se mută acolo. Aflăm și cu ce se ocupă Lulu sau Anne (da, tot ea): cu cea mai veche meserie din lume. Și totuși, personajul nostru nu e deranjat de morală, ci de... zgomot. Atât. Zgomotul. Asta îl scoate din sărite.

Iar ce îi pune capac e faptul că Lulu sau Anne (tot ea, două silabe sau una, cum preferați) rămâne însărcinată. Cu el. Și ce face? Pleacă. Concluzia lui, ani mai târziu, când își amintește totul? Că avea nevoie de alte iubiri. Dar, ce să vezi dragostea nu se comandă.

Pe mine m-a impresionat figura paternă de la început. Și felul în care "prima iubire" e pusă în umbra morții tatălui. La Beckett, iubirea nu e începutul, ci urmarea unui sfârșit.

[Vanessa · Rating 4 out of 5]

Beckett e seu niilismo. Um narrador à maneira de Meursault.

[Φερειπείν · Rating 5 out of 5]

Ο "Πρώτος έρωτας"του Σάμιουελ Μπέκετ συνιστά ένα από εκείνα τα πεζογραφικά κείμενα που αντιστέκονται εκ προοιμίου σε κάθε συμβατική αναγνωστική προσδοκία. Η ίδια η λέξη "έρωτας", ήδη από τον τίτλο, λειτουργεί σχεδόν παραπλανητικά. Δεν προαναγγέλλει μια ιστορία συναισθηματικής μύησης ούτε μια αφηγηματική πορεία ερωτικής ωρίμανσης, αλλά εισάγει τον αναγνώστη σε μια περιοχή όπου το βίωμα απογυμνώνεται από τη ρομαντική του επένδυση και ανασυστήνεται ως υπαρξιακό αίνιγμα. Ο Μπέκετ δεν αφηγείται τον έρωτα· τον ανατέμνει ως συνθήκη του είναι.
Η πρώτη και ουσιωδέστερη ιδιοτυπία του έργου έγκειται ακριβώς στην άρνησή του να συγκροτηθεί ως "κλασική ιστορία". Δεν υπάρχει εδώ η αναγνωρίσιμη αρχιτεκτονική της πλοκής, έκθεση, κλιμάκωση, λύση. Αντιθέτως, η αφήγηση μοιάζει να αποσυντίθεται την ίδια στιγμή που εκφέρεται. Ο αφηγηματικός χρόνος είναι ελλειπτικός, οι μεταβάσεις ασυνεχείς, η λογική αλληλουχία των γεγονότων υποχωρεί μπροστά στην εσωτερική αναγκαιότητα της συνείδησης. Το κείμενο οργανώνεται όχι με βάση τη δραματουργική οικονομία αλλά σύμφωνα με μια ψυχική και φιλοσοφική τροπικότητα, σχεδόν ρευστή, όπου η μνήμη, η απώθηση και η ειρωνική αυτοπαρατήρηση υπαγορεύουν τον ρυθμό.
Αυτό ακριβώς το στοιχείο αποκαλύπτει το εξόχως προσωπικό ύφος του Μπέκετ, μια γραφή ασκητική, απογυμνωμένη, αντι-ρητορική, η οποία, ωστόσο, παράγει εξαιρετική πυκνότητα νοήματος. Η φαινομενική απάθεια του αφηγητή δεν είναι συναισθηματική ένδεια, αλλά συνειδητή ρητορική της αποστασιοποίησης. Ο Μπέκετ επιστρατεύει έναν λόγο που μοιάζει να αρνείται τη συγκίνηση τη στιγμή ακριβώς που την εκθέτει στο πιο ακραίο της σημείο. Η ειρωνεία του, συχνά ψυχρή και διαβρωτική, λειτουργεί ως μηχανισμός απογύμνωσης των ψευδαισθήσεων• του έρωτα, της εγγύτητας, της ανθρώπινης επικοινωνίας.
Στον "Πρώτο έρωτα" ο έρωτας δεν εμφανίζεται ως λύτρωση αλλά ως μοιραία περίσταση της ύπαρξης, ως ένα συμβάν σχεδόν παθολογικό που διαρρηγνύει την αυτάρκεια του υποκειμένου. Η συνάντηση με τον άλλον δεν γεννά συμφιλίωση αλλά αμηχανία· δεν οδηγεί στη συνένωση αλλά σε μια βαθύτερη εμπειρία αλλοτρίωσης. Ο άλλος δεν είναι ποτέ πλήρως προσπελάσιμος· παραμένει αίνιγμα, σώμα, παρουσία ακατανόητη και συχνά απειλητική. Υπό αυτή την έννοια, το έργο εγγράφεται σε μια υπαρξιακή προβληματική της ετερότητας, όπου ο έρωτας αποκαλύπτει όχι την πληρότητα αλλά το ρήγμα του ανθρώπινου όντος.
Ιδιαίτερα γόνιμη είναι η χρήση του γκροτέσκου ως αισθητικής στρατηγικής. Ο Μπέκετ αποδομεί κάθε εξιδανίκευση του ερωτικού αισθήματος μέσω εικόνων που συνδυάζουν το σωματικό, το άβολο, το κωμικά σκοτεινό. Το γκροτέσκο εδώ δεν υπηρετεί απλώς το μαύρο χιούμορ· λειτουργεί ως τρόπος φιλοσοφικής αλήθειας. Μέσα από την παραμόρφωση, το γελοίο και την ενίοτε σκληρή εκφορά, αποκαλύπτεται η αδυναμία της γλώσσας να συλλάβει το συναίσθημα στην καθαρότητά του. Ο έρωτας παρουσιάζεται ως εμπειρία ταυτόχρονα σωματική και μεταφυσική αλλά πάντοτε ατελής ως προς την αναπαράστασή της.
Από φιλολογική άποψη, το κείμενο μπορεί να ιδωθεί ως αντι-αφήγημα ερωτικής μύησης. Εκεί όπου η παράδοση του Bildungsroman ή της ερωτικής νουβέλας θα ανέμενε κανείς τη συγκρότηση του υποκειμένου μέσω της εμπειρίας, ο Μπέκετ προτείνει το αντίθετο• μια διαδικασία αποσύνθεσης της υποκειμενικότητας. Ο αφηγητής δεν ολοκληρώνεται· αντιθέτως, η επαφή με το ερωτικό γεγονός τον εκθέτει πιο βίαια στην ασυνέχεια του εαυτού του. Η εμπειρία δεν μορφοποιεί· απορρυθμίζει.
Εκεί ακριβώς έγκειται και η πρωτοτυπία του έργου. Ο "πρώτος έρωτας" δεν είναι το σημείο εκκίνησης μιας ζωής, αλλά η αποκάλυψη της θεμελιώδους αμηχανίας της ύπαρξης. Ο Μπέκετ μετατρέπει ένα φαινομενικά οικείο θέμα σε στοχασμό πάνω στην αδυναμία του ανθρώπου να κατοικήσει με ασφάλεια είτε τον εαυτό του είτε τον άλλον. Το σκοτάδι, η ειρωνεία, η απάθεια και η σκληρότητα δεν είναι απλώς τόνοι ύφους, αλλά μορφές γνώσης, τρόποι με τους οποίους η λογοτεχνία ψηλαφεί το ακατανόητο.
Έτσι, το έργο παραμένει βαθιά ανησυχητικό και γόνιμο, ακριβώς επειδή αρνείται να προσφέρει ερμηνευτική παρηγορία. Ο έρωτας αναδύεται ως κάτι μοιραίο, σχεδόν παράλογο, μια εμπειρία που οι άνθρωποι βιώνουν χωρίς ποτέ να την κατανοούν πλήρως. Και ο Μπέκετ, με την αξεπέραστη οικονομία και τη φιλοσοφική οξύτητα της πρόζας του, κατορθώνει να μετατρέψει αυτή την αδυναμία κατανόησης σε ύψιστο λογοτεχνικό γεγονός.


Samuel Beckett’s First Love belongs to that rare category of prose works which resist, from the outset, any conventional reading expectation. The very word "love" in the title is almost misleading. It does not herald a story of emotional awakening or a narrative of romantic maturation; rather, it ushers the reader into a realm where experience is stripped of its sentimental veneer and reconstituted as an existential enigma. Beckett does not narrate love so much as dissect it as a condition of being.
The work’s most striking peculiarity lies precisely in its refusal to assume the shape of a "classic story". There is no recognisable architecture of plot here; no exposition, no dramatic escalation, no resolution. Instead, the narrative seems to unravel at the very moment of its telling. Time is elliptical, transitions are discontinuous, and the logical sequence of events yields to the inner necessity of consciousness itself. The text is organised not according to the demands of narrative economy but according to a psychological and philosophical logic, fluid, unstable, and governed by memory, repression, and a relentlessly ironic self-awareness.
This, in turn, reveals the profoundly distinctive quality of Beckett’s style; an ascetic, stripped-down, anti-rhetorical prose that nevertheless generates extraordinary density of meaning. The narrator’s apparent detachment is not a sign of emotional impoverishment but a deliberate rhetoric of distance. Beckett employs a language that seems to refuse feeling at precisely the moment when it exposes feeling in its most extreme form. His irony, often cold and corrosive, functions as a mechanism for dismantling illusion, the illusions of love, intimacy, and human communication itself.
In First Love, love appears not as redemption but as an inescapable circumstance of existence, an event almost pathological in nature, disrupting the subject’s fragile self-sufficiency. The encounter with the other does not produce reconciliation but discomfort; it leads not to union but to a deeper experience of estrangement. The other remains fundamentally inaccessible, an enigma, a body, an incomprehensible and often threatening presence. In this sense, the text participates in an existential exploration of alterity, where love reveals not human fulfilment but the fissure at the heart of being.
Particularly fruitful is Beckett’s use of the grotesque as an aesthetic strategy. He dismantles every idealisation of romantic feeling through images that combine the bodily, the awkward, and the darkly comic. The grotesque here serves a purpose far beyond black humour; it becomes a vehicle of philosophical truth. Through distortion, absurdity, and at times brutal candour, Beckett exposes the inability of language fully to capture emotion in its purest form. Love emerges as an experience at once physical and metaphysical, yet always resistant to complete representation.
From a literary perspective, the text may be read as an anti-narrative of romantic initiation. Where the tradition of the Bildungsroman or the love novella might lead one to expect the formation of the self through experience, Beckett proposes precisely the opposite. A process of subjective disintegration. The narrator is not completed by love; rather, the encounter with it exposes him more violently to the discontinuities of his own identity. Experience does not shape him, it destabilises him.
It is here that the originality of the work truly resides. The "first love" of the title is not the beginning of a life story but the revelation of existence’s fundamental awkwardness and uncertainty. Beckett transforms an ostensibly familiar theme into a meditation on humanity’s inability to inhabit securely either the self or the other. Darkness, irony, indifference, and cruelty are not merely tonal qualities; they are forms of knowledge, ways in which literature probes the limits of what can be understood.
For this reason, the work remains profoundly unsettling and enduringly fertile. It refuses the consolation of definitive interpretation. Love emerges as something fateful, almost absurd, an experience human beings undergo without ever fully comprehending. And Beckett, with the unrivalled economy and philosophical precision of his prose, succeeds in transforming that very failure of understanding into a supreme literary achievement.

[David Lieffering · Rating 4 out of 5]

‘Het einde’ is een van de meest beeldende verhalen die ik ooit gelezen heb. Net zoals de andere verhalen heeft elke zin z’n eigen kracht. Geen enkele zin lijkt in dienst van het verhaal te staan. Proza dat eigenlijk poëzie zou moeten heten.

[Fau · Rating 3 out of 5]

Pas assez prenant pour pardonner la misogynie mais quand même des images parlantes genre sortir tous les meubles de la chambre. mimi / misogyne

[BookLovingLady (deceased Jan. 25, 2023...) · Rating 5 out of 5]

I knew Samuel Beckett as the author of Waiting for Godot of course but this was the first time I read any of his short stories. The four stories in Eerste liefde are beautiful! So moving, touching and sad at the same time, and all of them exceptionally well-written.

For a review in Dutch, see Netherlands & Flanders group Summer Challnge 2014, message 39.

[Marcelo · Rating 5 out of 5]

It is my first book from Samuel Beckett. I've never read about "First Love", I think it is very difficult to describe what we feel when we are falling in love. I liked his way of writing, the way he describes first love. First love is our worries or feelings we have if we are far away from our beloved ones, worries which we can't control, but we lose this feelings when we are together. It is a universal feeling, it could happen with every person in the world, even with "margins of our society".

[Federico Zambrano · Rating 5 out of 5]

Le regalé este libro a mi primera novia y me engañó con otro... ¿qué esperaba?




PDA: Samuell Beckett está loco.

[bertarnievas · Rating 5 out of 5]

Parla dels meus dos temes preferits, l'amor i la bellesa.

L'he llegit aquesta tarda sencer i ha passat a estar entre els meus llibres preferits.

Quina profunda reflexió sobre l'amor, com neix de la comparació, al cap i a la fi el construïm en base a la idea que ens ha estat prèviament transmesa sobre aquest. Compara aquest sentiment amb la mort i penso que realment cada amor si que marca un punt de inflexió en la vida que podríem comparar amb la mort dels costums que teníem establerts abans de conèixer algú.

M'ha recordat, salvant distàncies, a Nits Blanques, em sembla fascinant com cadascú percep i explica, de forma diferent, la seva història, el moment en què va conèixer aquella persona que admira.

El que està clar és que tothom relaciona el seu primer amor amb un espai concret on el temps s'atura i queda aturat per sempre. Envio, per tant, una abraçada als pirineus.

[Jakub Brudny · Rating 4 out of 5]

Intrygująca opowieść mężczyzny, opisującego swoją pierwszą jakże trudną do zrozumienia miłość. Spotkanie wyzbytego z ludzkich odruchów faceta z sex workerką o dziwnej potrzebie przebywania z nim. Dynamika ich związku jest czymś obrzydliwie mrocznym, a narracja - jak zwykle u Becketta - jest bezbłędnie konfundująca.

[Aleksy · Rating 3 out of 5]

Quelle bizarre petite historie. Pour moi elle rassemble „L’Étranger” de Camus mais plus abstraite et sans sa tendresse. Ce livre presente une cynique vue sur l’amour et quoi constate une famille, mais à mon avis, il a manqué du commentaire, il était trop occupé avec la création d’un protagoniste qui respond au monde dans la manière le plus irréele. Cependant, le style de Beckett est, bien entendu, fascinant.

[l’ivresse rhapsodie. · Rating 5 out of 5]

« Il m’aurait fallu d’autres amour peut-être, mais l’amour ne ça ne se commande pas ». J’avoue j’ai lâché une larme. Magnifique, magnifique.

[beatriz brito · Rating 3 out of 5]

precisaria talvez de outros amores. mas a gente não tem mão no amor.

[Orane💋👠✨🍷📚 · Rating 2 out of 5]

Fort étrange lecture ma foi j’ai mis du temps à m’y plonger mais j’ai quand meme aimé allez savoir pourquoi

[Zorua64 · Rating 3 out of 5]

C littéralement lire de la pensée

[Manon · Rating 5 out of 5]

may this love never find me