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Everything Beautiful Began After
Simon Van Booy, winner of the prestigious Frank O'Connor International Short Story Award, brings his gift for poetic dialogue and sumptuous imagery to this debut novel of longing and discovery amidst the ruins of Ancient Greece.
Rebecca is young, lost and beautiful. A gifted artist, she seeks solace and inspiration in the Mediterranean heat of Athens—trying to understand who she is and how she can love without fear. George has come to Athens to learn ancient languages after growing up in New England boarding schools and Ivy League colleges. He has no close relationships with anyone and spends his days hunched over books or in a drunken stupor. And then there is Henry, an accomplished young Welsh archaeologist who spends his days devotedly uncovering the city’s past as a way to escape his own—a past that holds a secret that not even his doting parents can talk about.
As these three lost and lonely souls wander the city, a series of chance encounters sets off events that will forever define them, in this powerful portrait of friendship and young love.
Rebecca is young, lost and beautiful. A gifted artist, she seeks solace and inspiration in the Mediterranean heat of Athens—trying to understand who she is and how she can love without fear. George has come to Athens to learn ancient languages after growing up in New England boarding schools and Ivy League colleges. He has no close relationships with anyone and spends his days hunched over books or in a drunken stupor. And then there is Henry, an accomplished young Welsh archaeologist who spends his days devotedly uncovering the city’s past as a way to escape his own—a past that holds a secret that not even his doting parents can talk about.
As these three lost and lonely souls wander the city, a series of chance encounters sets off events that will forever define them, in this powerful portrait of friendship and young love.
368 pages, Paperback
First published July 1, 2011
118 people are currently reading
6575 people want to read
About the author
Simon Van Booy
62 books1,083 followersSimon Van Booy is the award-winning, bestselling author of more than a dozen books for adults and children, including The Illusion of Separateness and The Presence of Absence. Simon is the editor of three volumes of philosophy and has written for The New York Times, The Financial Times, The Washington Post, and the BBC. His books have been translated into many languages and optioned for film. Raised in rural North Wales, he currently lives in New York where he is also a book editor and a volunteer E.M.T. crew chief.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 433 reviews
July 25, 2011
“Everything Beautiful Began After” lured me in as soon as I began the Prologue. Simon Van Booy’s words carry you alongside the three once separate lives of Rebecca, George and Henry, and how they become intertwined by chance and love. Through their walks along the streets of Athens you come to see the city through their eyes, their vision clouded by their lives before Athens.
An enchanting first novel about life, love, fate and the stories we choose to tell or not to tell about ourselves, as well as the deceptions we choose to believe about others.
I look forward to reading more novels from Simon Van Booy.
An enchanting first novel about life, love, fate and the stories we choose to tell or not to tell about ourselves, as well as the deceptions we choose to believe about others.
I look forward to reading more novels from Simon Van Booy.
November 19, 2018
Three meet in Athens one summer, maybe during the 1980s or 90s, something like that. They become friends and lovers. How is this to be resolved, with three?! Rebecca is French, a young and beautiful red-haired Air France flight attendant, flaky, and an artist too,with dreams of one day attaining fame at her own Parisian art show. George is from Kentucky, an Ivy League student of ancient languages. He is addicted to drink. Henry is an aspiring archaeologist from Cambridge, England. All three are running from troubled pasts.
Their pasts must be revealed, if we are to understand them, the central theme of the story being if the past can be laid to rest and resolution reached. We learn of the three through flashbacks, but these flashbacks with innumerable shifts in time and place are confusing and give a choppy feel to the story.
There are beautiful lines in this novel, but they are plopped in among many others that are ordinary. The lyricism gets lost in the confusion of the surrounding text. It is like a mixing of pearls and stones. An ethereal tone, which I am sure is meant to be enchanting, becomes simply annoying. I was left unsettled, as reading a mix of poetry, rote schoolbook text and mundane ordinary prose would make anyone feel. Both the flow of the tale and the mood of the telling is choppy, resulting in a disjointed, pasted together mess.
A death occurs in the middle of the tale. After this, what was bad becomes worse. The whole story loses focus. Thereafter, it skims the surface passing from one place and event to the next. There is no depth. Now I know that this was intended to mirror the character’s bewilderment and loss, untethered, without anchorage as the person is perceived to be. We are forced to float with him / her. I am giving no clues as to who this character may be. Page after page, we follow the character around the world. This section gives only fleeting glimpses of places and events. It lacks depth, feels without substance and goes on too long. Finally, we are told rather than shown how this comes to be resolved, summed up in a one-liner! I find the conclusion poorly executed, unrealistic and superficial.
I felt nothing for any of the characters. The plot line is unsatisfactory and although there are some good lines, the jumbled fashion in which the story is told wrecks what could have been good prose. There is not a speck of humor. Rather than being literary fiction, the writing is perceived as trying to be literary fiction.
I also dislike the audiobook narration by the author. The flight attendant’s French accent sounds fake—how typically a pretty French gal should sound. The Southerner’s dialect is exaggerated. I wanted the words to be spoken more clearly and distinctly. Instead, an attempt is made to evoke am ethereal tone. Not liking the narration, I have given the performance one star. My dislike of the narration and the book itself are separate. I dislike both. My rating of one has not influenced the other.
Their pasts must be revealed, if we are to understand them, the central theme of the story being if the past can be laid to rest and resolution reached. We learn of the three through flashbacks, but these flashbacks with innumerable shifts in time and place are confusing and give a choppy feel to the story.
There are beautiful lines in this novel, but they are plopped in among many others that are ordinary. The lyricism gets lost in the confusion of the surrounding text. It is like a mixing of pearls and stones. An ethereal tone, which I am sure is meant to be enchanting, becomes simply annoying. I was left unsettled, as reading a mix of poetry, rote schoolbook text and mundane ordinary prose would make anyone feel. Both the flow of the tale and the mood of the telling is choppy, resulting in a disjointed, pasted together mess.
A death occurs in the middle of the tale. After this, what was bad becomes worse. The whole story loses focus. Thereafter, it skims the surface passing from one place and event to the next. There is no depth. Now I know that this was intended to mirror the character’s bewilderment and loss, untethered, without anchorage as the person is perceived to be. We are forced to float with him / her. I am giving no clues as to who this character may be. Page after page, we follow the character around the world. This section gives only fleeting glimpses of places and events. It lacks depth, feels without substance and goes on too long. Finally, we are told rather than shown how this comes to be resolved, summed up in a one-liner! I find the conclusion poorly executed, unrealistic and superficial.
I felt nothing for any of the characters. The plot line is unsatisfactory and although there are some good lines, the jumbled fashion in which the story is told wrecks what could have been good prose. There is not a speck of humor. Rather than being literary fiction, the writing is perceived as trying to be literary fiction.
I also dislike the audiobook narration by the author. The flight attendant’s French accent sounds fake—how typically a pretty French gal should sound. The Southerner’s dialect is exaggerated. I wanted the words to be spoken more clearly and distinctly. Instead, an attempt is made to evoke am ethereal tone. Not liking the narration, I have given the performance one star. My dislike of the narration and the book itself are separate. I dislike both. My rating of one has not influenced the other.
November 28, 2015
Everything Beautiful Began After by Simon Van Booy is a truly stunning book. Vivid images cascade one after another but all serve to illuminate the characters and their past.
Three characters dominate the story-the classic French scenario of a woman (Rebecca) loved by two men. But in this story, all the characters are dominated by pasts filled with loss & abandonment and childhoods scarred in powerful ways.
This image is a representative example of how Van Booy uses images to bring an immediacy to a present setting while simultaneously evoking a powerful sense of the past and deepening our feelings about the characters, increasing their texture without having them talk about their feelings: "Next to the wicker baskets, a mechanical ride-on horse already stripped bare by the wind off the sea"-we are on the dock of a semi-abandoned, dilapidated pier attached to a small, little-known or cared for village. This one image tells us so much about the place and creates a sense of how the characters will experience it and what may happen there for them.
At the same time, the image also evokes the characters' past, their childhoods which were stripped of wonder and magic and a sense of safety too soon (a mooring which was barren and without love)evoking the characters' past, their childhoods already stripped of wonder & love) and creates a powerful sense for the reader not only of each character but also of what has drawn them together-3 adults who are also 3 very wounded children trying to find ways to create a self in a dangerous, unhospitable world, and to forge relationships with others.
This image serves so many purposes, and does so gracefully, lightly, without hitting the reader over the head or pointing to itself with pride.
And the book is filled with these images, almost consists of them, one after another but not so much in a linear sequence but in a shower.
It is noteworthy that Rebecca is a painter, in a text that is so visual, that uses words as paintings of moments. One of the men is an archaeologist-perhaps not the lightest touch but a telling one none the less as the characters both seek to excavate their pasts and bring them into the light of day, to make meaning of them and integrate them into a larger experience of life while at the same time, they seek to evade the truth, to run from memory and true sharing with or trust of others.
This book is brilliant. I feel lucky to have discovered it.
Three characters dominate the story-the classic French scenario of a woman (Rebecca) loved by two men. But in this story, all the characters are dominated by pasts filled with loss & abandonment and childhoods scarred in powerful ways.
This image is a representative example of how Van Booy uses images to bring an immediacy to a present setting while simultaneously evoking a powerful sense of the past and deepening our feelings about the characters, increasing their texture without having them talk about their feelings: "Next to the wicker baskets, a mechanical ride-on horse already stripped bare by the wind off the sea"-we are on the dock of a semi-abandoned, dilapidated pier attached to a small, little-known or cared for village. This one image tells us so much about the place and creates a sense of how the characters will experience it and what may happen there for them.
At the same time, the image also evokes the characters' past, their childhoods which were stripped of wonder and magic and a sense of safety too soon (a mooring which was barren and without love)evoking the characters' past, their childhoods already stripped of wonder & love) and creates a powerful sense for the reader not only of each character but also of what has drawn them together-3 adults who are also 3 very wounded children trying to find ways to create a self in a dangerous, unhospitable world, and to forge relationships with others.
This image serves so many purposes, and does so gracefully, lightly, without hitting the reader over the head or pointing to itself with pride.
And the book is filled with these images, almost consists of them, one after another but not so much in a linear sequence but in a shower.
It is noteworthy that Rebecca is a painter, in a text that is so visual, that uses words as paintings of moments. One of the men is an archaeologist-perhaps not the lightest touch but a telling one none the less as the characters both seek to excavate their pasts and bring them into the light of day, to make meaning of them and integrate them into a larger experience of life while at the same time, they seek to evade the truth, to run from memory and true sharing with or trust of others.
This book is brilliant. I feel lucky to have discovered it.
April 19, 2020
Very few authors are able to imbue their words with beautiful, raw honesty the way Simon Van Booy can.
This book-- these characters-- slayed me.
Made me smile, laugh and weep.
I am grieving the closing of the final page because I want to go on living with these people...
This book-- these characters-- slayed me.
Made me smile, laugh and weep.
I am grieving the closing of the final page because I want to go on living with these people...
September 10, 2016
You are listening to a book. You think it's pretty good - it's taking itself way too seriously but it's still enjoyable. You hear the narrator say Part Two and then suddenly the point of view shifts to second person. You hear every sentence beginning with "you". You think it's going to be ok because you loved another book in second person. You keep listening. You start to get irritated. You don't hear a narrative, you hear a list of sentences starting with You. You already think the protagonist is wallowing self indulgently - which isn't that great listening to begin with - and now it's compounded by this horrible second person point of view. You think it must work for some, but not for you. You hope it will shift back to third person. You are disappointed.
January 13, 2021
There were times, early on, when I began to have doubts about this book — I feared it was going to turn into a tiresome love triangle. What kept me reading was Van Booy’s delightful prose and memories of The Illusion of Separateness. I needn’t have worried: Van Booy is incapable of writing anything mundane. The meaning of the title only becomes apparent “after”.
Among its many other virtues, this book includes the most penetrating account of the grieving process I’ve yet read, along with a brilliant exploration of a complex friendship that becomes richer and more satisfying as it proceeds over years of turmoil. Near the end, I was reminded of several people I’ve known, people whose past lives had been traumatic, grief-stricken, fraught with danger — and who in later lives seem to embrace the simplest of everyday pleasures with quiet satisfaction and dignity; the beauty that comes “after”.
Van Booy’s crafting of language is simply jaw-dropping; every so often, I found myself re-reading passages for the sheer pleasure of savoring his artistry for its own sake, quite apart from its relevance to the story. There are so many gems that I cannot resist quoting just a few of them:
Athens lives in the shadow of what it cannot remember, what it can never be again.
Fate is for the broken, the selfish, the simple, the lost, and the forever lonely — a distant light comes no closer, nor ever completely disappears.
Love is like life but longer.
The past is a mess of lines, like a sketch seen from afar. Our perception of the future is the past in disguise.
And of the grieving process, he writes: You feel the world going on without you. And soon you become starkly aware that in the great history of life, you mean absolutely nothing.
Your grief is something to be admired — the pain of severance. A scar where something used to be. To love again, you must discard what has happened to you, but take from it the strength you’ll need to carry on.
This novel doesn’t quite scale the heights achieved by "The Illusion of Separateness" but it’s a thoroughly satisfying story, rich in locale, characterization and mature emotion, the work of a writer very sure of his craft.
Among its many other virtues, this book includes the most penetrating account of the grieving process I’ve yet read, along with a brilliant exploration of a complex friendship that becomes richer and more satisfying as it proceeds over years of turmoil. Near the end, I was reminded of several people I’ve known, people whose past lives had been traumatic, grief-stricken, fraught with danger — and who in later lives seem to embrace the simplest of everyday pleasures with quiet satisfaction and dignity; the beauty that comes “after”.
Van Booy’s crafting of language is simply jaw-dropping; every so often, I found myself re-reading passages for the sheer pleasure of savoring his artistry for its own sake, quite apart from its relevance to the story. There are so many gems that I cannot resist quoting just a few of them:
Athens lives in the shadow of what it cannot remember, what it can never be again.
Fate is for the broken, the selfish, the simple, the lost, and the forever lonely — a distant light comes no closer, nor ever completely disappears.
Love is like life but longer.
The past is a mess of lines, like a sketch seen from afar. Our perception of the future is the past in disguise.
And of the grieving process, he writes: You feel the world going on without you. And soon you become starkly aware that in the great history of life, you mean absolutely nothing.
Your grief is something to be admired — the pain of severance. A scar where something used to be. To love again, you must discard what has happened to you, but take from it the strength you’ll need to carry on.
This novel doesn’t quite scale the heights achieved by "The Illusion of Separateness" but it’s a thoroughly satisfying story, rich in locale, characterization and mature emotion, the work of a writer very sure of his craft.
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October 2, 2011So many disappointments in me right now.
I don’t have the energy—or the patience—to rationally talk about those bedamned disappointments right now. How to say that the prose had me rolling my eyes more times than it made me breathless? How to say that I didn’t feel as though Van Booy respected his characters to give them room to grow—and not just mope for the purpose of displaying the author’s dubious skillz with the language? How to say that I am certain that a chunk of the book could have been ruthlessly chucked out, because that would make this better? How to say that this could have been about love, but it wasn’t? How to say that this aimless novel made worse by the most egregious usage of deus ex machina I’ve read in recent years? [Doesn’t mean that if you’re novel’s set in Greece, ye have to use good ol’ Poseidon’s fury, dammit.]
[SPOILERS AHOY!]
I want to pull out all the spoilers here and say that there’s this girl, and she’s French and young and beautiful. She goes to Athens, because that’s what lost French and young and beautiful women do. In Athens, she meets a George. And then she meets a Henry. And then Henry meets George. And things get weird undercurrent-y, like Henry saying, “I will take care of you, George, you’ll never be lonely again.” And me laughing. And then an earthquake comes out of nowhere and kills Rebecca—just when she tells Henry that she’s pregnant, just when Henry and Rebecca have to decide on something and stop sightseeing, at least. And me going WTF DUDE? That decision taken away from them by a random earthquake—yes, earthquakes are allowed to be random in real life, but, good lord, they have no place in literature if all they do is launch an unnecessary soul-searching shiznit and gah and gah and gah. And then and then, yeah, Henry breaks down, and George moves away, and then Henry and George meet again, and George is happy, and Henry isn’t, and a lot more blah, and then, and then, Henry brushes hands with this stranger and da-dum, is it happily ever after post-novel?
Desk, meet head. Repeatedly.
I don’t have the energy—or the patience—to rationally talk about those bedamned disappointments right now. How to say that the prose had me rolling my eyes more times than it made me breathless? How to say that I didn’t feel as though Van Booy respected his characters to give them room to grow—and not just mope for the purpose of displaying the author’s dubious skillz with the language? How to say that I am certain that a chunk of the book could have been ruthlessly chucked out, because that would make this better? How to say that this could have been about love, but it wasn’t? How to say that this aimless novel made worse by the most egregious usage of deus ex machina I’ve read in recent years? [Doesn’t mean that if you’re novel’s set in Greece, ye have to use good ol’ Poseidon’s fury, dammit.]
[SPOILERS AHOY!]
I want to pull out all the spoilers here and say that there’s this girl, and she’s French and young and beautiful. She goes to Athens, because that’s what lost French and young and beautiful women do. In Athens, she meets a George. And then she meets a Henry. And then Henry meets George. And things get weird undercurrent-y, like Henry saying, “I will take care of you, George, you’ll never be lonely again.” And me laughing. And then an earthquake comes out of nowhere and kills Rebecca—just when she tells Henry that she’s pregnant, just when Henry and Rebecca have to decide on something and stop sightseeing, at least. And me going WTF DUDE? That decision taken away from them by a random earthquake—yes, earthquakes are allowed to be random in real life, but, good lord, they have no place in literature if all they do is launch an unnecessary soul-searching shiznit and gah and gah and gah. And then and then, yeah, Henry breaks down, and George moves away, and then Henry and George meet again, and George is happy, and Henry isn’t, and a lot more blah, and then, and then, Henry brushes hands with this stranger and da-dum, is it happily ever after post-novel?
Desk, meet head. Repeatedly.
August 29, 2011
I chose this book out of quite a few. It's always dangerous to go into a bookstore with no set title in mind. I must have switched my choice at least six times before choosing this one and finally making it to the register. And while I wouldn't say I'm a huge fan of Proust or "Swann's Way," reading the comparison between Simon Van Booy to a love child of Margarite Duras and Marcel Proust was simply too poetically shimmering a thought to pass up. Throw in Greece, which I'm always longing to visit, an archiologist (the most stimulating and, if such a thing exists, sexiest--of professions) and I'd found my latest novel.
I loved several aspects of the book. The overall omniscient narrative that switches between leading characters was nice, as everyone brings their own back story to the table and it's nice and efficient to know who's you'll be focusing on; coupled with the varying nationalities of the characters. The landscape and local color were as beautiful as the Proust/Duras comparison had lead me to believe, and I even enjoyed the 70 or so pages of pen pal/fax machine exchanges while Henry took a page out of "Up In The Air" and went from Heathrow to LAX and everywhere in between.
But, what I didn't like was the lack of solidity between points in the plot. I found myself unaware of the central plot catalyst until I was past it and had to go back to read a few pages to understand what happened to our heroine Rebecca. Additionally, I had a hard time keeping time, as they book didn't start with a linear time frame (despite the title, this still threw me, and I'm usually a fairly observant reader, more so than most I'd wager). And, over all, while realism wasn't the book's or Van Booy's purpose, I still found it distractingly difficult to believe (no, more than that, perhaps even sloppy) to assume Henry's parents would think it appropriate to not hear from their son for a year, that George would quietly give up drinking or Rebecca's family would find out she was lovingly and romantically tossed in the to Aegean.
More frustrating than all of the discrepancies combined was the chapter on Nathalie, Rebecca's twin, and her husband and little daughter. We're told to question the girl's paternity, but the question appears all at once and is just as quickly dismissed. Likewise, Rebecca didn't seem to keep a diary but it couldn't, as I imagined at first, have simply belonged to her mother. So was Rebecca a liar? Did she never work for Airfrance? Why was this important at all except to slightly (barely) hinder Henry's inevitable recovery?
All in all, I enjoyed aspects of this novel but don't feel it was well-formed enough to really call a novel. I'd call it glimmers. And they were beautiful glimmers, but not joined enough to make a solid book. I felt unfulfilled and a little exhausted after reading it, despite coming away with a mind full of beautiful black and white snapshots, the sorts with the scribbly annotations you can't quite make out well enough to give you a solid idea of who, what or when they came from, but just show you a pretty woman you knew more about in a silk flower dress...
I loved several aspects of the book. The overall omniscient narrative that switches between leading characters was nice, as everyone brings their own back story to the table and it's nice and efficient to know who's you'll be focusing on; coupled with the varying nationalities of the characters. The landscape and local color were as beautiful as the Proust/Duras comparison had lead me to believe, and I even enjoyed the 70 or so pages of pen pal/fax machine exchanges while Henry took a page out of "Up In The Air" and went from Heathrow to LAX and everywhere in between.
But, what I didn't like was the lack of solidity between points in the plot. I found myself unaware of the central plot catalyst until I was past it and had to go back to read a few pages to understand what happened to our heroine Rebecca. Additionally, I had a hard time keeping time, as they book didn't start with a linear time frame (despite the title, this still threw me, and I'm usually a fairly observant reader, more so than most I'd wager). And, over all, while realism wasn't the book's or Van Booy's purpose, I still found it distractingly difficult to believe (no, more than that, perhaps even sloppy) to assume Henry's parents would think it appropriate to not hear from their son for a year, that George would quietly give up drinking or Rebecca's family would find out she was lovingly and romantically tossed in the to Aegean.
More frustrating than all of the discrepancies combined was the chapter on Nathalie, Rebecca's twin, and her husband and little daughter. We're told to question the girl's paternity, but the question appears all at once and is just as quickly dismissed. Likewise, Rebecca didn't seem to keep a diary but it couldn't, as I imagined at first, have simply belonged to her mother. So was Rebecca a liar? Did she never work for Airfrance? Why was this important at all except to slightly (barely) hinder Henry's inevitable recovery?
All in all, I enjoyed aspects of this novel but don't feel it was well-formed enough to really call a novel. I'd call it glimmers. And they were beautiful glimmers, but not joined enough to make a solid book. I felt unfulfilled and a little exhausted after reading it, despite coming away with a mind full of beautiful black and white snapshots, the sorts with the scribbly annotations you can't quite make out well enough to give you a solid idea of who, what or when they came from, but just show you a pretty woman you knew more about in a silk flower dress...
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
September 22, 2011
This may well be one of the most exquisitely written books of the year. I can imagine that some may find Van Booy's style precious and maybe too elaborate, and I guess some could describe him as an acquired taste: it seems that people don't write like this anymore, today - and that, for me, is an immense quality. I miss writers who are able to create, in some ways, a language of their own, who aren't afraid to be poetic (without sounding pretentious or ridiculous), who want to enchant the reader through the power of words, and not just through a complicated plot. Each word is there for a purpose, each sentence has a specific sound, and the whole novel has the haunting quality of a rare, very unique, mysterious perfume that you can't quite analyze nor define, but which you want to smell again and again. I just love the way this man writes - and how unabashedly romantic he is, although, to be clear, his romanticism, tinted with deep melancholy and sadness, isn't the one you find in cheap romance novels, but is of a purer literary essence. The story is - at the beginning at least- deceptively simple. Two men in love with the same woman, in an exotic, lush yet poor city of a country rooted in the past. But things happen. Life happens. And then the story goes toward very unexpected directions (there is quite a shocking turning point): they don't always have the enthralling power of the first part, but, somehow, they do come together to create a cohesive whole, and they do work. Van Booy explores the devastation of grief in ways that can appear unbelievable, and yet the result is quite emotional, and you do feel deeply for the character, as much as you want to shake him out of his dreamlike self-destructiveness born out of a loss. One of the most poignant, intelligent, and subtle aspects of the novel is how it dissects the internal lives of expatriates - people who live in foreign cities, inhabited by a sense of wanderlust that is often linked to personal tragedies. As an expatriate myself, I could only marvel at Van Booy's understanding of the situation, and how it feels to be an exiled, even if the exile has been chosen. This book is quite a tour de force - that more than deserves the praises it seems to get from the literary world.
November 2, 2011
The novel takes place largely in Athens, Sicily, and France, but spans many continents and time periods, and is divided into the time before and after an event. Before the event, in Athens, Greece, three people’s lives converge in unexpected ways as they are all displaced in some way from a life they should be living, where they reside under the cover of shadows from their pasts or demons from their present.
Rebecca, an artist, still feels the hollow wound of her mother’s abandonment of her and her twin sister when they were children. George, a linguist and American boarding school graduate, drinks to anesthetize himself from his loneliness. Henry, an archaeologist, is trapped in a tragedy from his past that has never allowed him to fully live.
The three of them meet each other in the decaying city of Athens and begin to emerge from their vacancies until a terrible incident changes everything. Though their worlds are shaken, the experience leads to true spiritual awakening and appreciation for the tragic beauty of every moment in life.
I knew from the moment I started Everything Beautiful Began After that I was in love. I had to remind myself to breathe after the first chapter, not because of any jarring scenes or shocking moments (those come later), but because of the language. This novel feels like 402 pages of poetry, without a single gratuitous word. Every sentence has weight, but rather than being exhausting, the reading is exhilarating. I underlined half of the sentences in the book, and I know I will reread it many times.
In addition to the elegant prose, there are several point of view shifts in the novel, not only from character to character but also from third to second person, that support both the thematic and character development. There are also many drawings, post cards and letters embedded within the text that enhance the authenticity of the story.
Everything Beautiful Began After is literary, philosophical, and spiritually rich but it is also very accessible, which makes it genius. This is a book club book, and as it was recommended to me, I suggest to you that you read this book on paper. An e-reader can’t possibly do its text features justice. This is a book you’ll want on your shelf to refer to and display so that people thumbing through your library can pick it up and get lost in it.
I can’t do justice to the perfection of this novel. I want to call it a religious experience, but I’m afraid I’ll sound ridiculous or build it up too much for you. I will say that Everything Beautiful Began After profoundly touched me. It is a book I will carry with me and recommend widely. Please read it and tell me what you think.
Rebecca, an artist, still feels the hollow wound of her mother’s abandonment of her and her twin sister when they were children. George, a linguist and American boarding school graduate, drinks to anesthetize himself from his loneliness. Henry, an archaeologist, is trapped in a tragedy from his past that has never allowed him to fully live.
The three of them meet each other in the decaying city of Athens and begin to emerge from their vacancies until a terrible incident changes everything. Though their worlds are shaken, the experience leads to true spiritual awakening and appreciation for the tragic beauty of every moment in life.
I knew from the moment I started Everything Beautiful Began After that I was in love. I had to remind myself to breathe after the first chapter, not because of any jarring scenes or shocking moments (those come later), but because of the language. This novel feels like 402 pages of poetry, without a single gratuitous word. Every sentence has weight, but rather than being exhausting, the reading is exhilarating. I underlined half of the sentences in the book, and I know I will reread it many times.
In addition to the elegant prose, there are several point of view shifts in the novel, not only from character to character but also from third to second person, that support both the thematic and character development. There are also many drawings, post cards and letters embedded within the text that enhance the authenticity of the story.
Everything Beautiful Began After is literary, philosophical, and spiritually rich but it is also very accessible, which makes it genius. This is a book club book, and as it was recommended to me, I suggest to you that you read this book on paper. An e-reader can’t possibly do its text features justice. This is a book you’ll want on your shelf to refer to and display so that people thumbing through your library can pick it up and get lost in it.
I can’t do justice to the perfection of this novel. I want to call it a religious experience, but I’m afraid I’ll sound ridiculous or build it up too much for you. I will say that Everything Beautiful Began After profoundly touched me. It is a book I will carry with me and recommend widely. Please read it and tell me what you think.
November 22, 2018
4 1/2 αστεράκια
Το βιβλίο αυτό το πήρα τυχαία, χωρίς να ξέρω τίποτα για την υπόθεση, το συγγραφέα ή τις κριτικές που έχει λάβει. Ευτυχώς η τυχαία επιλογή μου απέδωσε τα μέγιστα.
Η ιστορία αυτή με έκανε να περάσω από όλο το φάσμα των συναισθημάτων: γέλασα,νοστάλγησα, έκλαψα, λυτρώθηκα. Η γραφή του Van Booy σε ταξιδεύει και σε μαγεύει. Ειλικρινά δεν έχω διαβάσει άλλο βιβλίο ξένου συγγραφέα που να περιγράφει τόσο αληθοφανώς την Ελλάδα και συγκεκριμένα την Αθήνα, με τους βρώμικους δρόμους και τους ωραίους ή παράξενους ανθρώπους της. Στα περισσότερα μυθιστορήματα ξένων συγγραφέων για την Ελλάδα, υπάρχει είτε μια τάση ωραιοποίησης και εξιδανίκευσης είτε μια ελαφρά μειωτική, κοροϊδευτική διάθεση. Εκτίμησα λοιπόν δεόντως τον τρόπο που προσέγγισε το θέμα ο Booy.
Ως προς την πλοκή, το βιβλίο αυτό δεν έχει να παρουσιάσει κάτι ιδιαίτερα πρωτότυπο. Η γραφή όμως του συγγραφέα και διάφορα αφηγηματικά τεχνάσματα που χρησιμοποιεί (π.χ. επιστολές) σε κερδίζουν αμέσως και σου κρατάνε αμείωτο το ενδιαφέρον μέχρι και την τελευταία σελίδα. Οι χαρακτήρες του είναι αληθινοί, προσβάσιμοι αλλά ταυτόχρονα θυμίζουν και ήρωες αρχαίας ελληνικής τραγωδίας, οι ζωές των οποίων σημαδεύονται από το χέρι του πεπρωμένου.Παρά την ευχαρίστηση και τη λύτρωση που ένιωθα με το τέλος που έδωσε ο συγγραφέας, έπιασα τον εαυτό μου να είναι διστακτικός στο να αποχωριστεί αυτούς τους χαρακτήρες. Το γεγονός ότι ήθελα να περάσω και άλλο χρόνο μαζί τους παρόλο που η ιστορία που είχαν να μου διηγηθούν είχε φτάσει στο τέλος της είναι δείγμα του πόσο καλογραμμένοι και σαγηνευτικοί ήταν.
Σίγουρα θα διαβάσω και άλλα βιβλία του συγγραφέα ώστε να ξαναχαθώ στην ομορφιά των λέξεων του.
Το βιβλίο αυτό το πήρα τυχαία, χωρίς να ξέρω τίποτα για την υπόθεση, το συγγραφέα ή τις κριτικές που έχει λάβει. Ευτυχώς η τυχαία επιλογή μου απέδωσε τα μέγιστα.
Η ιστορία αυτή με έκανε να περάσω από όλο το φάσμα των συναισθημάτων: γέλασα,νοστάλγησα, έκλαψα, λυτρώθηκα. Η γραφή του Van Booy σε ταξιδεύει και σε μαγεύει. Ειλικρινά δεν έχω διαβάσει άλλο βιβλίο ξένου συγγραφέα που να περιγράφει τόσο αληθοφανώς την Ελλάδα και συγκεκριμένα την Αθήνα, με τους βρώμικους δρόμους και τους ωραίους ή παράξενους ανθρώπους της. Στα περισσότερα μυθιστορήματα ξένων συγγραφέων για την Ελλάδα, υπάρχει είτε μια τάση ωραιοποίησης και εξιδανίκευσης είτε μια ελαφρά μειωτική, κοροϊδευτική διάθεση. Εκτίμησα λοιπόν δεόντως τον τρόπο που προσέγγισε το θέμα ο Booy.
Ως προς την πλοκή, το βιβλίο αυτό δεν έχει να παρουσιάσει κάτι ιδιαίτερα πρωτότυπο. Η γραφή όμως του συγγραφέα και διάφορα αφηγηματικά τεχνάσματα που χρησιμοποιεί (π.χ. επιστολές) σε κερδίζουν αμέσως και σου κρατάνε αμείωτο το ενδιαφέρον μέχρι και την τελευταία σελίδα. Οι χαρακτήρες του είναι αληθινοί, προσβάσιμοι αλλά ταυτόχρονα θυμίζουν και ήρωες αρχαίας ελληνικής τραγωδίας, οι ζωές των οποίων σημαδεύονται από το χέρι του πεπρωμένου.Παρά την ευχαρίστηση και τη λύτρωση που ένιωθα με το τέλος που έδωσε ο συγγραφέας, έπιασα τον εαυτό μου να είναι διστακτικός στο να αποχωριστεί αυτούς τους χαρακτήρες. Το γεγονός ότι ήθελα να περάσω και άλλο χρόνο μαζί τους παρόλο που η ιστορία που είχαν να μου διηγηθούν είχε φτάσει στο τέλος της είναι δείγμα του πόσο καλογραμμένοι και σαγηνευτικοί ήταν.
Σίγουρα θα διαβάσω και άλλα βιβλία του συγγραφέα ώστε να ξαναχαθώ στην ομορφιά των λέξεων του.
July 9, 2011
There is a shift in book 2 of this novel that makes the amorous utopian blasé narrative of book 1 smartly plotted. And this is not specific to the dramatic shift, but to the shift in how the protagonist is no longer just "Henry" but suddenly compounded into a three letter direct pronoun that allows the spectator to become less the spectator and more the character involved in the spectacle that is Everything Beautiful Began After. There are many modern conventions like this throughout the book that don't cheapen the novel by being trite or "novel," rather they undergird the consistency of Simon Van Booy's writing--spartan and direct like Hemingway, and at other times profoundly articulate and rhythmic like Shakespeare. And that consistency in style is what makes Mr. Van Booy's growing library so exciting to follow.
December 31, 2021
Set in Athens, three people from very different backgrounds meet and form a rather strange friendship. Rebecca is a French flight attendant, Henry is a British archeologist, and George is an American expert in ancient languages. Rebecca has a brief affair with George but is involved primarily with Henry. A death occurs and it becomes a book about grief.
I was interested in the first third of the story and had no idea it would shift so abruptly. The writing is beautiful in places, but the narrative is choppy, as it flashes back and forth frequently and not in a way that flows well. In the middle it switches formats from straight text to visuals of typewritten letters that are difficult to decipher.
I did not care for the portion of the book that is told in second person – this voice is very difficult to do well, and, for me, it fails here. I think this book is supposed to be about the randomness of life, but it comes across as…well, too random. Grief is another theme, and it is difficult to pull off a book about grief. The storyline in this book did not work well for me, but I would read another book by this author. I much preferred Van Booy’s The Illusion of Separateness.
I was interested in the first third of the story and had no idea it would shift so abruptly. The writing is beautiful in places, but the narrative is choppy, as it flashes back and forth frequently and not in a way that flows well. In the middle it switches formats from straight text to visuals of typewritten letters that are difficult to decipher.
I did not care for the portion of the book that is told in second person – this voice is very difficult to do well, and, for me, it fails here. I think this book is supposed to be about the randomness of life, but it comes across as…well, too random. Grief is another theme, and it is difficult to pull off a book about grief. The storyline in this book did not work well for me, but I would read another book by this author. I much preferred Van Booy’s The Illusion of Separateness.
September 4, 2024
had a flight delay so bad i read this while waiting to take off. it wasnt life changing but i do love books that remind me that life is about love! perseverance! the human condition!
September 1, 2011
“For those who are lost, there will always be cities that feel like home.
Paces where lonely people can live in exile of their own lives – far from anything that was ever imagined for them.”
I was going to start off by saying that I would pretty much read anything that Simon van Booy writes. And then I stopped and thought, this book is actually only the second book of his that I’ve read (the first being his collection of short stories, Love Begins in Winter – even announcing it to be one of my favourite reads of that year). So does that qualify? Perhaps. This is after all his first novel. And it is a beautiful one indeed.
So I opened this book – or rather opened the app that opened this Net Galley e-book* �� with a bias. I hoped, no, expected this to be a wonderful read that I would recommend to everyone. And it is.
I was worried about writing this review-ish post. After reading writing like that, I despair at my own inane-ness (is that such a word? And, see what I mean?). Of course this book is a product of plenty of time slogging away at it, but I like to think that Simon Van Booy is like this in real life too. He gazes out at the shimmering Aegean, sighs, dips his feathered pen into the inkwell and writes rainbows.
For there are many passages that I bookmarked or wrote down, many times when I stopped and sighed, other times when I stopped myself from reading too fast, but there were also moments where I had hit the Home button on the iPad and went and looked at something else. Some moments were a little too much for me. Perhaps I just felt too invested in these characters, especially Henry and his love for Rebecca. They had such a meet-cute moment that the reader can’t help falling for them.
Before I go any further, I probably should talk a bit about the plot. It’s been talked about in the book blogosphere for quite a while already, but in case you haven’t heard about it, Everything Beautiful Began After is the story of George, and of Henry, and of Rebecca, and it is perhaps also a story of Athens and Europe. It is about head-over-heels, heart-bursting, all-consuming love.
On George:
“He looked the sort of man who had read all of Marcel Proust in bed. The sort who wanted to get up early but chronically overslept. And he walked slowly, hunched into a cigarette.”
Here’s Rebecca:
“She would live in exile with her desires. She would live as she imagined them on canvas, like faint patches of starlight: hopeful but so far away; compelling, yet dispossessed of change.”
And Henry:
Ok I hadn’t actually written a good quote about Henry, at least not one that would not result in a spoiler. So how about these lovelies instead:
“Sometimes children not long exiled from that silent world of softness and gesture, can feel in their tiny hearts the nuances of what we say; and though powerless to act, they sense fully those means that creep like figures in a shadow play behind a screen of language.”
“The beauty of artifacts is in how they reassure us we’re not the first to die.
But those who seek only reassurance from life will never be more than tourists – seeing everything and trying to possess what can only be felt. Beauty is the shadow of imperfection.”
“You will love her immediately. She will giggle at bright colors and movement, random things too – like bread falling off the counter. Later, she will run from you naked – refusing to get dressed. She will cry when you drop her off at school, then cry when you pick her up. She will scream for you in the night and not know why.”
Right. A certain someone is chewing on my arm, telling me that computer time is up soon. So while I have your attention – and he is contented with my elbow – please read this book.
Paces where lonely people can live in exile of their own lives – far from anything that was ever imagined for them.”
I was going to start off by saying that I would pretty much read anything that Simon van Booy writes. And then I stopped and thought, this book is actually only the second book of his that I’ve read (the first being his collection of short stories, Love Begins in Winter – even announcing it to be one of my favourite reads of that year). So does that qualify? Perhaps. This is after all his first novel. And it is a beautiful one indeed.
So I opened this book – or rather opened the app that opened this Net Galley e-book* �� with a bias. I hoped, no, expected this to be a wonderful read that I would recommend to everyone. And it is.
I was worried about writing this review-ish post. After reading writing like that, I despair at my own inane-ness (is that such a word? And, see what I mean?). Of course this book is a product of plenty of time slogging away at it, but I like to think that Simon Van Booy is like this in real life too. He gazes out at the shimmering Aegean, sighs, dips his feathered pen into the inkwell and writes rainbows.
For there are many passages that I bookmarked or wrote down, many times when I stopped and sighed, other times when I stopped myself from reading too fast, but there were also moments where I had hit the Home button on the iPad and went and looked at something else. Some moments were a little too much for me. Perhaps I just felt too invested in these characters, especially Henry and his love for Rebecca. They had such a meet-cute moment that the reader can’t help falling for them.
Before I go any further, I probably should talk a bit about the plot. It’s been talked about in the book blogosphere for quite a while already, but in case you haven’t heard about it, Everything Beautiful Began After is the story of George, and of Henry, and of Rebecca, and it is perhaps also a story of Athens and Europe. It is about head-over-heels, heart-bursting, all-consuming love.
On George:
“He looked the sort of man who had read all of Marcel Proust in bed. The sort who wanted to get up early but chronically overslept. And he walked slowly, hunched into a cigarette.”
Here’s Rebecca:
“She would live in exile with her desires. She would live as she imagined them on canvas, like faint patches of starlight: hopeful but so far away; compelling, yet dispossessed of change.”
And Henry:
Ok I hadn’t actually written a good quote about Henry, at least not one that would not result in a spoiler. So how about these lovelies instead:
“Sometimes children not long exiled from that silent world of softness and gesture, can feel in their tiny hearts the nuances of what we say; and though powerless to act, they sense fully those means that creep like figures in a shadow play behind a screen of language.”
“The beauty of artifacts is in how they reassure us we’re not the first to die.
But those who seek only reassurance from life will never be more than tourists – seeing everything and trying to possess what can only be felt. Beauty is the shadow of imperfection.”
“You will love her immediately. She will giggle at bright colors and movement, random things too – like bread falling off the counter. Later, she will run from you naked – refusing to get dressed. She will cry when you drop her off at school, then cry when you pick her up. She will scream for you in the night and not know why.”
Right. A certain someone is chewing on my arm, telling me that computer time is up soon. So while I have your attention – and he is contented with my elbow – please read this book.
September 11, 2011
What does one say about this beautiful book without giving away too much? That the author’s style is astounding with its elegantly simple sentences that reveal each character’s inner thoughts? (“He felt the deep bite of loneliness. He thought of the cemetery in New Hampshire, and he longed for the cold simplicity of it. Fractured sunlight through the orchard. The eternal sea beyond, churning the names of the dead.”) That the poetry of his descriptions is sublime - breathtakingly stunning? (“She waits at the wild end of the garden, leaning on a gate in her coat – the one she wouldn’t wear. But now everything about it seems beautiful – especially the buttons; small tusks discolored by a thousand meals. The mystery of pockets.”) That the locales, especially of Greece and Sicily, are brought to the mind’s eye in a painterly fashion? (“. . . in a small Sicilian taxi. The interior is dusty – a bag of flour burst open.”) Probably all of that.
Yet while enjoying the author’s style, the reader also falls in love with his three main characters – Rebecca, Henry and George. They are so human – so flawed – and therefore so real and lovable. They become friends of the reader and we invest our time and emotion in their struggles and joys. As the novel draws to a close, the reader finds himself having to tear away from these characters as you would from a friend moving to an isolated part of the world. One really wants to continue the relationship in the same manner as before, yet it is impossible.
Love, in all its forms, is the crux of this novel. The love of parents for children, the love of siblings for each other, the love shared by two well-matched friends, and, most importantly, the love which transforms into passion between two people in the most unexpected place and time. In this novel, van Booy masterfully describes love and allows the reader to experience it in all its joy and sorrow. This is a terrific first novel from a gifted author.
Grade: A
Yet while enjoying the author’s style, the reader also falls in love with his three main characters – Rebecca, Henry and George. They are so human – so flawed – and therefore so real and lovable. They become friends of the reader and we invest our time and emotion in their struggles and joys. As the novel draws to a close, the reader finds himself having to tear away from these characters as you would from a friend moving to an isolated part of the world. One really wants to continue the relationship in the same manner as before, yet it is impossible.
Love, in all its forms, is the crux of this novel. The love of parents for children, the love of siblings for each other, the love shared by two well-matched friends, and, most importantly, the love which transforms into passion between two people in the most unexpected place and time. In this novel, van Booy masterfully describes love and allows the reader to experience it in all its joy and sorrow. This is a terrific first novel from a gifted author.
Grade: A
July 30, 2011
The first time that I tried to read this book, I was completely lost and confused and that was after only eight pages! I put the book down and decided to come back to for a second try.
The second time went better; I got through the whole book. It is very true that you either loved it or hated it. I did not like it. I cannot help my feelings. For me the first half was better than the second and I would have preferred to stop there.
First, here is what I like about the book. The cover looks like a romantic story set in another country. Greece, was the best character, the heat of the country, the sadness of the ruins, the feeling of the city of Athens as a place which shown so bright in its golden time, but as the author put, has no future. I also love the feel of the paper selected for the book and the rough cut pages and illustrations including the copies of correspondence.
Athens was the best character in this book. The second character that I liked was Rebecca. I liked the part about her training as a stewardess for Air France. I kep comparing her experience to my sister-in-law's training.
I even found some humor in that part, but it never returned for the rest of the book. If there was more humor later on, I did not recognize it as being such.
Now, what I didn't like. The book was not what I expected. From the first page to the last, there is for me a lingering air of depression. There were two other main characters, George and Henry. I have met I would have preferred that she met some different men. Nothing that I can do about that. After the first half of the book, and a certain incident happening, I felt that I didn't want to finish the book. I did go on because I was hoping that I would like it better. But it didn't happen.
You can go ahead and read it, you may love it. But for my best friends, I cannot recommend this book.
I received this book from GoodReads but that in no way influenced my review.
The second time went better; I got through the whole book. It is very true that you either loved it or hated it. I did not like it. I cannot help my feelings. For me the first half was better than the second and I would have preferred to stop there.
First, here is what I like about the book. The cover looks like a romantic story set in another country. Greece, was the best character, the heat of the country, the sadness of the ruins, the feeling of the city of Athens as a place which shown so bright in its golden time, but as the author put, has no future. I also love the feel of the paper selected for the book and the rough cut pages and illustrations including the copies of correspondence.
Athens was the best character in this book. The second character that I liked was Rebecca. I liked the part about her training as a stewardess for Air France. I kep comparing her experience to my sister-in-law's training.
I even found some humor in that part, but it never returned for the rest of the book. If there was more humor later on, I did not recognize it as being such.
Now, what I didn't like. The book was not what I expected. From the first page to the last, there is for me a lingering air of depression. There were two other main characters, George and Henry. I have met I would have preferred that she met some different men. Nothing that I can do about that. After the first half of the book, and a certain incident happening, I felt that I didn't want to finish the book. I did go on because I was hoping that I would like it better. But it didn't happen.
You can go ahead and read it, you may love it. But for my best friends, I cannot recommend this book.
I received this book from GoodReads but that in no way influenced my review.
February 12, 2012
I couldn't decide if I should give this book two stars or five, so I settled on four.
I was sold on it by the blurb beneath it on the shelf at my favorite bookshop, claiming that had Fitzgerald and Hemingway had a baby, it would be this book. As I love both of those authors, I had a hard time saying no. In many ways, this is entirely accurate. (Also, in the author photo at the back, Van Booy definitely looks like he really, really wishes that he was Jay Gatsby.)
Ultimately, I think I might not be enough of a romantic for this book. There's a lot of stuff about feelings in it, so I spend a lot of time rolling my eyes. Every time I rolled my eyes, though, they were rolled right back to their regular position very quickly by the sheer beauty of the prose. Van Booy uses language elegantly and subtly--rather than the conspicuous consumption of the nouveau riche linguist, he doesn't flaunt anything. He simply composes sentences that at first glance seem ordinary, but then you realize that it is in fact very high end writing of a distinctive quality.
The characters could have given me more. Rebecca verged painfully on Manic Pixie Dream Girl status and Henry and George were terribly standard White Men. On the other hand, Henry and George were quite in the tradition of Fitzgerald and Hemingway, so I should be satisfied that I got exactly what I expected.
In the end, I liked this book a lot more than I was irritated by it. I have a lot of bookmarked pages so that I can return to them, and I did a lot of underlining while reading. That's always a good sign.
I was sold on it by the blurb beneath it on the shelf at my favorite bookshop, claiming that had Fitzgerald and Hemingway had a baby, it would be this book. As I love both of those authors, I had a hard time saying no. In many ways, this is entirely accurate. (Also, in the author photo at the back, Van Booy definitely looks like he really, really wishes that he was Jay Gatsby.)
Ultimately, I think I might not be enough of a romantic for this book. There's a lot of stuff about feelings in it, so I spend a lot of time rolling my eyes. Every time I rolled my eyes, though, they were rolled right back to their regular position very quickly by the sheer beauty of the prose. Van Booy uses language elegantly and subtly--rather than the conspicuous consumption of the nouveau riche linguist, he doesn't flaunt anything. He simply composes sentences that at first glance seem ordinary, but then you realize that it is in fact very high end writing of a distinctive quality.
The characters could have given me more. Rebecca verged painfully on Manic Pixie Dream Girl status and Henry and George were terribly standard White Men. On the other hand, Henry and George were quite in the tradition of Fitzgerald and Hemingway, so I should be satisfied that I got exactly what I expected.
In the end, I liked this book a lot more than I was irritated by it. I have a lot of bookmarked pages so that I can return to them, and I did a lot of underlining while reading. That's always a good sign.
June 23, 2011
Everything Beautiful Began After took me by surprise. It begins with a little girl playing in the "wild end of the garden". She's thinking about how she came to be, and realizing there was life before her, she decides she again wants to hear the story about how her parents met.
I thought I had an idea of the story this book would tell, but I was taken down a completely different path.
Rebecca is a beautiful, young, former French stewardess turned aspiring artist.
George is an American, with a bit of a drinking problem, who grew up in boarding schools and Ivy League colleges.
Henry is a British archeologist who has been trying to find a way to live with a single, tragic moment from his childhood.
They all find themselves in Athens one summer where three chance meetings forge friendships that will shape the rest of their lives. When a catastrophe hits, their lives and relationships are changed forever.
It's intriguing, heartbreaking, and hopeful.
Advance copy provided by publisher for review.
I thought I had an idea of the story this book would tell, but I was taken down a completely different path.
Rebecca is a beautiful, young, former French stewardess turned aspiring artist.
George is an American, with a bit of a drinking problem, who grew up in boarding schools and Ivy League colleges.
Henry is a British archeologist who has been trying to find a way to live with a single, tragic moment from his childhood.
They all find themselves in Athens one summer where three chance meetings forge friendships that will shape the rest of their lives. When a catastrophe hits, their lives and relationships are changed forever.
It's intriguing, heartbreaking, and hopeful.
Advance copy provided by publisher for review.
August 5, 2011
I had never read anything by Simon Van Booy before, but it was a recommended read at my local independent bookshop, so I decided to give this book a try. I am so glad I did. Simon Van Booy writes in such a way that you have the most vivid picture in your mind of a place you've never been. He writes so beautifully and poetically, and carves out his characters perfectly. I devoured this book despite all the other reviews that said it should be savored. I couldn't savor it, I just wanted more. Midway through, the point of view shifts, your heart breaks, and you push down your desire to sob every two minutes because you're on the subway and you just want to bawl. Instead, silent tears stream down your face as you feel a complete sense of loss and sadness, because you are so in love with the characters. This is a book that will stay with you.
September 2, 2011
3 1/2 I have had a hard time classifying this novel, the prose and his words are beautiful and vivid. But I didn't care very much for the story itself. I felt somewhat of a remove from the characters, and some awful thing happen in this novel the belies the beauty of the prose. Maybe that is the point though.
Want to read
July 9, 2011I had a rather tepid response to his short story collection, but I'm willing to try again. The subject looks right up my alley, and reviews make the writing sound like it is as well: http://www.easthamptonstar.com/Books/...
June 25, 2024
Fun fact (frustrating fact): it is just about impossible to underline passages in a story while listening to an audiobook on your evening walk. The best you can do is stop and go back 15 seconds and listen again to the bit that caused you to catch your breath... The reasons for the rewind? It could be the lovely words, the mot juste, the emotional bit that pierces your heart, or the writing that encapsulates human nature and longing. Sigh.
As I listened, I realized that this would be a great book to read in print form yet I'm not sorry that I listened to it for it is Simon Van Booy who 'reads' it. It is a performance.
I gave this 5 stars but it is really 4.5. There are a few portions of the book that could have been edited down. Parts of the story line could have been finessed for a more fluid conclusion.
However, at the outset of reading this if I told you that it was a story about two men who loved the same woman and competed for her attention but who went on to become lifelong friends, even the brother they longed for - your response might be that that is an implausible storyline. But I am here to tell you for a fact that Henry and George love each other like brothers. Simon Van Booy made it plausible and beautiful.
A huge thank you to my GR friend Laysee for recommending this. I concur.
As I listened, I realized that this would be a great book to read in print form yet I'm not sorry that I listened to it for it is Simon Van Booy who 'reads' it. It is a performance.
I gave this 5 stars but it is really 4.5. There are a few portions of the book that could have been edited down. Parts of the story line could have been finessed for a more fluid conclusion.
However, at the outset of reading this if I told you that it was a story about two men who loved the same woman and competed for her attention but who went on to become lifelong friends, even the brother they longed for - your response might be that that is an implausible storyline. But I am here to tell you for a fact that Henry and George love each other like brothers. Simon Van Booy made it plausible and beautiful.
A huge thank you to my GR friend Laysee for recommending this. I concur.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
November 8, 2011
I took a copy of this out of the library, but after the first page of Book One I just went out an bought my own copy; by the time I was done reading there was a bookmark on nearly every page (see below). I wasn't entirely sure a novel would be as good as his short stories (Love Begins in Winter; The Secret Lives of People in Love) but this was. It's the same poetic language but you spend longer with the same characters, as they fall apart and piece themselves back together. Piercingly beautiful and sad.
Prologue
Do we love before we love. (6)
Book One (3rd person)
For those who are lost, there will always be cities that feel like home.
Places where lonely people can live in exile of their own lives - far from anything that was ever imagined for them....a city...where the thunder of traffic is a sound so constant it's like silence. (11)
And the ability to love Athens, like all love, lies not in the city but in the visitor. (31)
The love of a man is like a drop of color into something clear. (33)
"Loneliness is like being the only person left alive in the universe, except that everyone else is still here." (67)
Somewhere across the city, among the thousands of beating hearts, was the one he wanted. (88)
Sometimes children, not long exiled from that silent world of softness and gesture, can feel in their tiny hearts the nuances of what adults say; and though powerless to act, they sense fully those feelings that creep like figures behind the veil of language. (116)
Rebecca told herself that she did not believe in fate. She believed that she alone was responsible for everything that happened to her. If there was such a thing as fate, she thought, her mother would be blameless...But it was not her fate. It was her decision. (140)
What happens to one person is felt by everyone. (147)
"Maybe happiness is just finding the right people at the right time."
"But how do you find them?"
...
"But say you do find the right people - how do you love them without smothering them?...How do you not suffocate them with all the love you've built up in their absence?"
"You don't. And that's the whole point - it works in a way it just wouldn't with other people." (176)
Love is like life but longer. (184)
Book Two (2nd person - Henry, and letters)
...you felt your heart had already stopped, and each soft thud in the dark, each faint push between your thumb and your neck, was only the ghost of your heart and its memory of something beautiful. (212)
Your hands will always remember what they couldn't do. (213)
Is it possible for love to go on if not attached to memory? (215)
You've learned since her death that everything you are afraid of will never happen. It's the events you cannot conceive of that happen. (217)
p.s. I miss her to the point that life has no meaning (239)
I told him it's a memory I can't shelve, so it just stays out. (unnumbered)
You were back in the place where your life had begun and where it had ended. (269)
And there was something different about the city - as though it had forgotten you. (269)
You were unsure which pain is worse - the shock of what happened or the ache for what never will. (272)
You remember what George said once about language, about words and sentences - like Pompeii, a world intact, but abandoned. You scramble down the words like ropes, he said. You dangle from sentences. You drop from letters into pools of what happened.
Language is like drinking from one's own reflection in still water. We take from it only what we are at that time. (274)
Everything had changed except you. (280)
Book Three
The faces are not detailed because the Greeks understood that one person's experience is everyone's.
We all sit down to the same meal, but at different times. (297)
Nobody will know that you're really an old man, a ruined man with a sadness so deep it's like unbreakable strength. (311)
It's strange how after someone dies, we sometimes learn things about them we didn't know when they were living. But for those left behind, even the smallest new detail is heavy enough to smash what is left of the heart. (319)
You wonder how long it takes to be happy again.
...
Wishes are cast like nets. (324)
The heart of the city is a church, a place where wishes are scattered by tolling bells. (328)
And there is no real life, except what we imagine. (330)
Nothing but the quiet fantasy of guessing what comes next. (332)
It's impossible to love someone after they've died. And that's why it hurts so much. (355)
It's something you feel, like a weight in both hands; it's the faith that embodies God but incorporates logic.
And there are hands we live between that open and close. (360)
We see in others what we want and what we fear. (367)
Humans may come and go - but the thread of hope is like a rope we pull ourselves up with. (367)
Your stillness is no longer despair but patience.
...
To love again, you must not discard what has happened to you, but take from it the strength you'll need to carry on. (372)
"Love is most nearly itself / When here and now cease to matter." -T.S. Eliot
Prologue
Do we love before we love. (6)
Book One (3rd person)
For those who are lost, there will always be cities that feel like home.
Places where lonely people can live in exile of their own lives - far from anything that was ever imagined for them....a city...where the thunder of traffic is a sound so constant it's like silence. (11)
And the ability to love Athens, like all love, lies not in the city but in the visitor. (31)
The love of a man is like a drop of color into something clear. (33)
"Loneliness is like being the only person left alive in the universe, except that everyone else is still here." (67)
Somewhere across the city, among the thousands of beating hearts, was the one he wanted. (88)
Sometimes children, not long exiled from that silent world of softness and gesture, can feel in their tiny hearts the nuances of what adults say; and though powerless to act, they sense fully those feelings that creep like figures behind the veil of language. (116)
Rebecca told herself that she did not believe in fate. She believed that she alone was responsible for everything that happened to her. If there was such a thing as fate, she thought, her mother would be blameless...But it was not her fate. It was her decision. (140)
What happens to one person is felt by everyone. (147)
"Maybe happiness is just finding the right people at the right time."
"But how do you find them?"
...
"But say you do find the right people - how do you love them without smothering them?...How do you not suffocate them with all the love you've built up in their absence?"
"You don't. And that's the whole point - it works in a way it just wouldn't with other people." (176)
Love is like life but longer. (184)
Book Two (2nd person - Henry, and letters)
...you felt your heart had already stopped, and each soft thud in the dark, each faint push between your thumb and your neck, was only the ghost of your heart and its memory of something beautiful. (212)
Your hands will always remember what they couldn't do. (213)
Is it possible for love to go on if not attached to memory? (215)
You've learned since her death that everything you are afraid of will never happen. It's the events you cannot conceive of that happen. (217)
p.s. I miss her to the point that life has no meaning (239)
I told him it's a memory I can't shelve, so it just stays out. (unnumbered)
You were back in the place where your life had begun and where it had ended. (269)
And there was something different about the city - as though it had forgotten you. (269)
You were unsure which pain is worse - the shock of what happened or the ache for what never will. (272)
You remember what George said once about language, about words and sentences - like Pompeii, a world intact, but abandoned. You scramble down the words like ropes, he said. You dangle from sentences. You drop from letters into pools of what happened.
Language is like drinking from one's own reflection in still water. We take from it only what we are at that time. (274)
Everything had changed except you. (280)
Book Three
The faces are not detailed because the Greeks understood that one person's experience is everyone's.
We all sit down to the same meal, but at different times. (297)
Nobody will know that you're really an old man, a ruined man with a sadness so deep it's like unbreakable strength. (311)
It's strange how after someone dies, we sometimes learn things about them we didn't know when they were living. But for those left behind, even the smallest new detail is heavy enough to smash what is left of the heart. (319)
You wonder how long it takes to be happy again.
...
Wishes are cast like nets. (324)
The heart of the city is a church, a place where wishes are scattered by tolling bells. (328)
And there is no real life, except what we imagine. (330)
Nothing but the quiet fantasy of guessing what comes next. (332)
It's impossible to love someone after they've died. And that's why it hurts so much. (355)
It's something you feel, like a weight in both hands; it's the faith that embodies God but incorporates logic.
And there are hands we live between that open and close. (360)
We see in others what we want and what we fear. (367)
Humans may come and go - but the thread of hope is like a rope we pull ourselves up with. (367)
Your stillness is no longer despair but patience.
...
To love again, you must not discard what has happened to you, but take from it the strength you'll need to carry on. (372)
"Love is most nearly itself / When here and now cease to matter." -T.S. Eliot
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
May 10, 2014
Usually, I write my own review of a book before I look at what other people have said about it. Two reasons for this: (1) I can be easily swayed by what other readers think, especially if they write articulately and persuasively about it; and (2) some reviews are so perfect that it seems an absolute waste of time straining myself to write my OWN small piece. With this book, I broke my own rules and thus have ended up referencing someone called Vivienne: I couldn't decide if I should give this book two stars or five, so I settled on four. Like Vivienne, I vacillated in my opinion of this novel. Was the prose beautiful, profound and poetic? Or was it precious and pretentious? Did I buy this story? These characters? This setting?
Book One, The Greek Affair, is the reader's introduction to the three main characters -- Rebecca (French artist), Henry (Welsh archaeologist) and Charles (American classicist and drunk), all of them exiled by choice in Athens. This bit of the book drew me in; it was pleasurably engrossing. I was prepared to follow the thread of what this story seemed to be and enjoy having the characters reveal their secrets and work out their various neuroses. But then something unexpected and rather awful happens and both characters and reader are totally destabilized. Van Booy experiments with point of view and narration in the rest of the novel and at times I found it very discomfiting. It kept pushing me away. Not sure if the second person point of view really worked for me, or if it's just that I couldn't bear for Henry to blow his life savings on two years of aimless plane trips (truly my idea of hell). My final thoughts? I think this is a good book, but for whatever reason it didn't totally capture me. Like the title, which I never could keep straight in my mind, I am left with the impression of fragments more than a coherent whole.
Book One, The Greek Affair, is the reader's introduction to the three main characters -- Rebecca (French artist), Henry (Welsh archaeologist) and Charles (American classicist and drunk), all of them exiled by choice in Athens. This bit of the book drew me in; it was pleasurably engrossing. I was prepared to follow the thread of what this story seemed to be and enjoy having the characters reveal their secrets and work out their various neuroses. But then something unexpected and rather awful happens and both characters and reader are totally destabilized. Van Booy experiments with point of view and narration in the rest of the novel and at times I found it very discomfiting. It kept pushing me away. Not sure if the second person point of view really worked for me, or if it's just that I couldn't bear for Henry to blow his life savings on two years of aimless plane trips (truly my idea of hell). My final thoughts? I think this is a good book, but for whatever reason it didn't totally capture me. Like the title, which I never could keep straight in my mind, I am left with the impression of fragments more than a coherent whole.
June 11, 2011
I have let this book simmer in my mind for a while after finishing, trying to find the words to write this review. Alas, I am still at a loss but must get the review written anyway. This book was written in a manor that left me with a feeling of confusion each time I put it down – I didn’t understand where anything was going in the plot or with the characters. I felt lost but could sense the drama building but never really connected with any of it. When the sense of impending doom finally came to be I was still confused.
The last portion of the book was better than the first for me as I enjoyed the rambling ways better than the oddness of the beginning but I still was feeling very cloudy on the plot and point of the novel. After finishing I think some of the vagueness was resolved for me, but overall I didn’t capture the intent of the novel, in my opinion. The characters were interesting but didn’t grab me as I had hoped they would. No one seemed to be who they presented themselves to be and maybe that was the point, but it left me disconnected from everything.
The scenery was beautiful though - I could feel the heat and see the cities in my mind. I requested this from NetGalley for the setting of the book so this portion did not let me down.
The last portion of the book was better than the first for me as I enjoyed the rambling ways better than the oddness of the beginning but I still was feeling very cloudy on the plot and point of the novel. After finishing I think some of the vagueness was resolved for me, but overall I didn’t capture the intent of the novel, in my opinion. The characters were interesting but didn’t grab me as I had hoped they would. No one seemed to be who they presented themselves to be and maybe that was the point, but it left me disconnected from everything.
The scenery was beautiful though - I could feel the heat and see the cities in my mind. I requested this from NetGalley for the setting of the book so this portion did not let me down.
September 28, 2011
The first "book" is wonderfully evocative of the warmth of the sun, and the scents and dusty roads of Athens. Of brief encounters and falling in love and friendships developed too fast and too close and a time of potential. Then a devastating intermission. The next two books, for me, was a struggle between me as reader, and the thoughts and feelings the writer was trying to impose on me. This is the problem I have every time a writer moves into second person. I always feel like its a cheat and I always rebel against it. When van Booy says I feel some way or I'm doing something, especially when I think the character is behaving in a way that I can not relate to. Had it been in third person, it wouldn't have been a problem, since it wouldn't be me.
I fought with the book until the end. I'm not sure it was worth it.
I fought with the book until the end. I'm not sure it was worth it.
August 21, 2011
I love Simon Van Booy, there are few writers that are poetry in every sentence. I was looking forward to this novel and was not disappointed. His characters live experiences I wish I could, expect maybe their tragedies (small and big). It did not end the way I anticipated, and I loved both George and Henry as Rebecca did. Strange aside, those are my two favorite names in French.
I love that I can read his characters and feel pity for them, anger toward them and love. His characters are always raw and alive, scarred and human. I cannot wait for more by Van Booy. You'll be sorry you skipped him, and ignore the others that claim there was no point, no purpose to the novel. I think they just missed the meaning.
I love that I can read his characters and feel pity for them, anger toward them and love. His characters are always raw and alive, scarred and human. I cannot wait for more by Van Booy. You'll be sorry you skipped him, and ignore the others that claim there was no point, no purpose to the novel. I think they just missed the meaning.
June 25, 2024
5 Stars - all the stars
Everything Beautiful Began After, by Simon Van Booy
A delicate meditation on loneliness, guilt, friendship, grief, and love. Ultimately, love.
Immersive storytelling at its best. I wasn’t just listening to it, or reading it, I was there, in it. The silent witness. In Athens. In Portsmouth. In Linieres-Bouton. In Sicily. Feeling the oppressive heat and humidity of a Mediterranean summer, and the numbing chill of unbearable grief in winter. Watching the characters unfold, wanting so much for them to be all right in the end, yet knowing… knowing…
It's a circular narrative, so we are made privy to the end at the beginning. However, we do not know the details. We are left to wonder, to fill in the puzzle piece by piece as we go. The who, the what, the when… But it all comes full circle in the end. Thematically and stylistically, directly and indirectly, the author evokes T.S. Eliot – specifically his Four Quartets.
In my end is my beginning.
The fact that Van Booy chose to break his novel into four books as well is no coincidence, I am sure. Both works are an exquisite contemplation of the human experience.
A few notes: This was my introduction to Simon Van Booy. I listened to the audio book, narrated by the author himself. His voice is gentle, yet deliberate, bestowing even more empathy and compassion on his characters with each page. As an aside, I could listen to this man read the ingredients list on a cereal box all day, so there’s that… After I finished the recording, I promptly bought a printed copy of the book for my personal library, as well as copies of The Secret Lives of People in Love, The Illusion of Separateness, and Love Begins in Winter. I know I will not be disappointed.
Regarding style, a note of caution: Midway through the second book the literary point of view changes abruptly from third person to second person. That’s a tough one. It was a challenge to adjust accordingly, and I really had to push myself through it for a while. There’s a reason that point of view is rare… a lesser author could not pull it off.
Regarding content: This book is intended for mature readers, but only because it is so emotionally complex. It simply won't appeal to a mass audience or juveniles - even the precocious ones. I didn’t find anything personally offensive or objectionable. There’s a bit of rough language here and there, and two or three very brief descriptions of lovemaking, but even those passages focus more on the emotional component - nothing graphic, nothing gratuitous. I mean... I recommended it to my mother, so... no content concerns.
We have the power to conjure presence but not life.
Everything Beautiful Began After has officially cemented itself as one of my favorite novels, ever.
My heart absolutely aches for this book.
Everything Beautiful Began After, by Simon Van Booy
A delicate meditation on loneliness, guilt, friendship, grief, and love. Ultimately, love.
Immersive storytelling at its best. I wasn’t just listening to it, or reading it, I was there, in it. The silent witness. In Athens. In Portsmouth. In Linieres-Bouton. In Sicily. Feeling the oppressive heat and humidity of a Mediterranean summer, and the numbing chill of unbearable grief in winter. Watching the characters unfold, wanting so much for them to be all right in the end, yet knowing… knowing…
It's a circular narrative, so we are made privy to the end at the beginning. However, we do not know the details. We are left to wonder, to fill in the puzzle piece by piece as we go. The who, the what, the when… But it all comes full circle in the end. Thematically and stylistically, directly and indirectly, the author evokes T.S. Eliot – specifically his Four Quartets.
In my end is my beginning.
The fact that Van Booy chose to break his novel into four books as well is no coincidence, I am sure. Both works are an exquisite contemplation of the human experience.
A few notes: This was my introduction to Simon Van Booy. I listened to the audio book, narrated by the author himself. His voice is gentle, yet deliberate, bestowing even more empathy and compassion on his characters with each page. As an aside, I could listen to this man read the ingredients list on a cereal box all day, so there’s that… After I finished the recording, I promptly bought a printed copy of the book for my personal library, as well as copies of The Secret Lives of People in Love, The Illusion of Separateness, and Love Begins in Winter. I know I will not be disappointed.
Regarding style, a note of caution: Midway through the second book the literary point of view changes abruptly from third person to second person. That’s a tough one. It was a challenge to adjust accordingly, and I really had to push myself through it for a while. There’s a reason that point of view is rare… a lesser author could not pull it off.
Regarding content: This book is intended for mature readers, but only because it is so emotionally complex. It simply won't appeal to a mass audience or juveniles - even the precocious ones. I didn’t find anything personally offensive or objectionable. There’s a bit of rough language here and there, and two or three very brief descriptions of lovemaking, but even those passages focus more on the emotional component - nothing graphic, nothing gratuitous. I mean... I recommended it to my mother, so... no content concerns.
We have the power to conjure presence but not life.
Everything Beautiful Began After has officially cemented itself as one of my favorite novels, ever.
My heart absolutely aches for this book.
October 22, 2018
Beautiful prose and finally, a not super depressing book for my 2018 year in reading. I mean, still really sad. But not depressing.
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