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Обичате ли Брамс?
Пола е привлекателна, умна и с интересна професия, но страда от лекомислието на Роже, с когото живее от години. В своята зрелост тя копнее за всеотдайност, каквато не получава от Роже, твърде привързан към независимостта си. Тогава в живота й се появява Симон – много по-млад от нея, красив и влюбен с онази любов, която й е липсвала. Възможна ли е тяхната връзка и ще бъде ли Пола способна да съгради своето щастие?
4 pages, Audiobook
First published January 1, 1959
84 people are currently reading
3467 people want to read
About the author
Françoise Sagan
250 books1,676 followersBorn Françoise Quoirez, Sagan grew up in a French Catholic, bourgeois family. She was an independent thinker and avid reader as a young girl, and upon failing her examinations for continuing at the Sorbonne, she became a writer.
She went to her family's home in the south of France and wrote her first novel, Bonjour Tristesse, at age 18. She submitted it to Editions Juillard in January 1954 and it was published that March. Later that year, She won the Prix des Critiques for Bonjour Tristesse.
She chose "Sagan" as her pen name because she liked the sound of it and also liked the reference to the Prince and Princesse de Sagan, 19th century Parisians, who are said to be the basis of some of Marcel Proust's characters.
She was known for her love of drinking, gambling, and fast driving. Her habit of driving fast was moderated after a serious car accident in 1957 involving her Aston Martin while she was living in Milly, France.
Sagan was twice married and divorced, and subsequently maintained several long-term lesbian relationships. First married in 1958 to Guy Schoeller, a publisher, they divorced in 1960, and she was then married to Robert James Westhoff, an American ceramicist and sculptor, from 1962 to 63. She had one son, Denis, from her second marriage.
She won the Prix de Monaco in 1984 in recognition of all of her work.
She went to her family's home in the south of France and wrote her first novel, Bonjour Tristesse, at age 18. She submitted it to Editions Juillard in January 1954 and it was published that March. Later that year, She won the Prix des Critiques for Bonjour Tristesse.
She chose "Sagan" as her pen name because she liked the sound of it and also liked the reference to the Prince and Princesse de Sagan, 19th century Parisians, who are said to be the basis of some of Marcel Proust's characters.
She was known for her love of drinking, gambling, and fast driving. Her habit of driving fast was moderated after a serious car accident in 1957 involving her Aston Martin while she was living in Milly, France.
Sagan was twice married and divorced, and subsequently maintained several long-term lesbian relationships. First married in 1958 to Guy Schoeller, a publisher, they divorced in 1960, and she was then married to Robert James Westhoff, an American ceramicist and sculptor, from 1962 to 63. She had one son, Denis, from her second marriage.
She won the Prix de Monaco in 1984 in recognition of all of her work.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 461 reviews
September 22, 2024
If novels were dresses, this would be a summer one. Cool cotton without any buttons, zippers, or snaps, it slips on and off with ease.
Other novels are more complex. They have folds and frills and multiple layers. Not this. There is no underpinning of history or politics. No foundation in philosophy. No padding with symbolism or references to look up. What Francois Sagan has written is sheer almost, as it is short, and befits an author whose "hobby is driving fast cars, of which she has five."
A love story full of passion, Aimez-Vous Brahms . . . is a delight.
Other novels are more complex. They have folds and frills and multiple layers. Not this. There is no underpinning of history or politics. No foundation in philosophy. No padding with symbolism or references to look up. What Francois Sagan has written is sheer almost, as it is short, and befits an author whose "hobby is driving fast cars, of which she has five."
A love story full of passion, Aimez-Vous Brahms . . . is a delight.
August 18, 2024
How would you have lived?
This is a question you wish you won’t ever have to ask of yourself and if, when reaching a certain age you decide to evaluate your life, you won’t have a need to ask the dreaded and hated question: What if?
Solitude is what she’s afraid of and getting old without a companion by her side. She never stops walking, metaphorically, of course.
She brooded gently, bitterly on her loneliness.
One day, the 39 year old Paule wakes up to the bitter realization that time is passing by, that she is getting older by the day, that she hates to spend the weekends alone while her lover, Roger, is gone on one of his numerous ‘business trips’, and that he may have found a younger woman to entertain and amuse him.
She had stationed herself at this mirror to kill time only to discover— she smiled at the thought—that time was gradually, painlessly killing her, aiming its blows at an appearance she knew had been loved.
Things get more complicated when Simon, the 25 year old son of one of her clients starts pursuing her.
Should she end things with the already absent Roger and give in to young Simon’s overtures?
In a flash she saw the wall beyond the foot of her bed. With the drawn curtains, the unfashionable picture, the little chest of drawers on the left. The view which daily confronted her, night and morning, which would probably still confront her in ten years' time. When she was even lonelier than she was today. What was Roger playing at? He had no right, nobody could condemn her to get old like this; nobody, not even herself . . .
This is a story about one woman’s pursuit of happiness, love and companionship and her struggle against fading away and loneliness.
And her battle against her enemy: Time.
Perhaps a moment really came when one no longer had to attack one’s life, but to defend oneself from it as from some old and tactless friend.
This is a question you wish you won’t ever have to ask of yourself and if, when reaching a certain age you decide to evaluate your life, you won’t have a need to ask the dreaded and hated question: What if?
Solitude is what she’s afraid of and getting old without a companion by her side. She never stops walking, metaphorically, of course.
She brooded gently, bitterly on her loneliness.
One day, the 39 year old Paule wakes up to the bitter realization that time is passing by, that she is getting older by the day, that she hates to spend the weekends alone while her lover, Roger, is gone on one of his numerous ‘business trips’, and that he may have found a younger woman to entertain and amuse him.
She had stationed herself at this mirror to kill time only to discover— she smiled at the thought—that time was gradually, painlessly killing her, aiming its blows at an appearance she knew had been loved.
Things get more complicated when Simon, the 25 year old son of one of her clients starts pursuing her.
Should she end things with the already absent Roger and give in to young Simon’s overtures?
In a flash she saw the wall beyond the foot of her bed. With the drawn curtains, the unfashionable picture, the little chest of drawers on the left. The view which daily confronted her, night and morning, which would probably still confront her in ten years' time. When she was even lonelier than she was today. What was Roger playing at? He had no right, nobody could condemn her to get old like this; nobody, not even herself . . .
This is a story about one woman’s pursuit of happiness, love and companionship and her struggle against fading away and loneliness.
And her battle against her enemy: Time.
Perhaps a moment really came when one no longer had to attack one’s life, but to defend oneself from it as from some old and tactless friend.
May 17, 2021
És una història molt francesa tant dolça com amarga, segons el moment. Com si fos un croissant de mantega farcit de Nutella i taronja. M'ha encantat.
October 4, 2017
Let me be frank with you, goodreads world, and admit something. I tend not to read romance novels. Ok, that is an understatement. This is the first book I have ever read which I have seen fall into that category of literature. But I think, even outside of that category, I tend not to read novels that dedicate a good deal of time to the development of romantic relations, or, at least, I do not seek them out. For some reason, and perhaps it speaks to my bachelored existence, romance isn’t a relationship that really interests me. I can’t even truly enjoy them in a good movie. I like the world that exists beside the romance, if that makes sense. One day that might change. Hell, even the reading of this book suggests that there is always the chance to try new things and find in them just the right morsel of pleasure.
I came to read this book, or, more specifically, this author, not because of an attraction to the genre or the topic at hand, but because of rumours about the author. You see, a few years ago I was browsing through a book on the history of the Nobel Prize. This book attempted to make sense of what, exactly, that prize rewarded when the Swedish Academy made its choices, and then raised questions about why some authors had been chosen and others hadn’t. France, which I believe to be the most well awarded country in the history of the prize, hasn’t had any of its women awarded. For the author of the book this was quite the astonishment. They then went on to list several who, to their estimation, would have been more than worthy winners: Marguerite Duras, Marguerite Yourcenar, Francoise Sagan, Simone de Beauvoir, Nathalie Sarraulte. Since then I’ve slowly been knocking these authors off of my list of authors to read. I still have to find to courage to read de Beauvoir and Sarraulte, both of whom have reputations grand enough to frighten me off, but the other three have each brought me a good deal of joy, confusion, and pleasure in their moment.
Which brings me to Sagan, who, I was warned by the author of that book about the Nobel, wrote romance novels. Which brings me to this book, which I found in a used bookstore that was closing down. I picked it up, looked suspiciously at the front and read the back, had a passing intrigue, was disappointed that it wasn’t her most well-admired classic, Bonjour Tristesse, but decided to add it to my pile and one day read it. It sat, for a year or two, on my bookshelf, and then for a year in a box in my parents’ basement when I was abroad, and then, for about two weeks, it occupied a space on the floor of my brother’s old bedroom, where I was organizing my collection into two piles, one which I would keep and one which I would get rid of, and, at the end of that organizing, it landed in my pile of books I will be disposing of; but, then, just as I was packaging those books into boxes to be donated to the prison, a small pile of books started develop, books that I don’t really want to keep, I don’t think, but that I do want to read before they leave the house. The pile grew to be about 30 in height, and this is now the pile of books that I am selecting my reading from; it sits at the side of my bed and stares at me while I sleep, each book surely aware of its fate, and perhaps hopeful that it too, like Destroy, She Said (by the aforementioned Marguerite Duras), will find its way back into my pile of books that I am going to keep.
After having finished this book, I can tell you that it won’t. But that isn’t quite it’s fault. Let me talk about the book now.
Every now and then you read something that just makes sense. It understands itself, it limits its ambitions, it is managed, it is all that it could hope to be and nothing less. Like the perfectly filled jar of home-made jam, there is no space for air inside under the lid, and no line of sticky preserve falling in an unsightly glop over the side - all of its contents, its ideas, its sentences fit perfectly into the shape of the thing that the author was creating. I’ve read a few of these sorts of books in my life, and each time I do I come away impressed. Pride and Prejudice comes to mind. Skylark. The Summer Book. Cassandra. Damn near any story by Alice Munro.
I think this book is one of those perfect little creations, in its way. All of it fits in the slim pages and the few words of tight, fluid and, in surprising ways, lyrical writing. Its characters are interesting, something more than what one would expect of the book but never more than what is needed; each one is given all the space to grow that they need and not more. Speaking of the story, it both supports, with the characters, a great many of the tropes that you imagine to be part and parcel with the genre and manages to subvert a great many of them. And it offers a level of sophistication that develops slowly, and reaches a nice ringing, similar to a bell at Christmas in a carol or down the street singing from the church’s midnight mass, tingling the spine with pleasure just before dying back to silence. It is a book trimmed of the unnecessary, of the fat of writing, and reduced to its most basic and important truths.
There isn’t much to the story that I can say without ruining it, so I’ll instead talk about the characters. I liked Paule. She is the central character of the love stories in this book - the one developing with Roger, an old lover, and the other developing with Simon, a new, young man who has entered into Paule’s life unexpectedly and caused his little waves of chaos. She was a complicated and lovely figure. With her sophistication and fine-ness she came out of the pages, felt human for a moment or two, like a figure in an old Hollywood film, a starlet, beautiful and intelligent and trapped in the very things which brought her joy. I liked hearing her voice, her tension, her uncertainty, and resignations. I admired her in a way, though I’m not sure what that way was. Have I felt some of her feelings before? Maybe. No. I don’t think so. Maybe because I’ve seen this one before? Like in a movie somewhere. I can see it, now that I think of it, in black and white, Greta Garbo is Paule, a dashing young man fills of the role of Simon, a young Cary Grant, the two of them in her small apartment in Paris, modestly decorated because she isn’t incredibly wealthy but carefully decorated because of her profession, and then Roger, Fredric March, filling the role of the older lover who, if nothing else, is consistent, and that is worth something, isn’t it, just being consistent is worth something isn’t it? I guess that might be worth something. But perhaps Greta is a bit too dramatic to play this role; is it possible to bring in somebody with the careful statements of the physical gesture, somebody like Audrey Hepburn, but to push her into the 1930s, or can we bring the others into the 1950s and 1960s, and just make it all click, the tension, the sex, the pleasure, the malaise, the decadence, the streets of Paris and the bars where they would dance? Yes, this is a movie I think.
So, then, only three glowing goodreads stars instead of five, despite a wave of admiration sent to it. Why?
Because, for all the good that this novella offers, for all of the ways that it surprised me, for the pleasure it brought me, for the insight it offers, I came away not feeling as though it really offered me anything that hasn’t been offered before in movies with nameless classic movie stars who I cannot name but somehow can picture - that is, right up until that last chapter, which I’m not going to talk about, but serves its purpose, like everything in this book, just perfectly. Ultimately, like those movies I liked this book. Nothing more, nor less; a simple pleasure.
As for Sagan? I wish I could rate her, because I would rate her quite highly. I look forward to reading more of her works, which is to say that I will be buying more romance novels at second hand book store clearance sales so long as her name is on the spine. Aimez-vous Brahms? Oui, mon cheri.
I came to read this book, or, more specifically, this author, not because of an attraction to the genre or the topic at hand, but because of rumours about the author. You see, a few years ago I was browsing through a book on the history of the Nobel Prize. This book attempted to make sense of what, exactly, that prize rewarded when the Swedish Academy made its choices, and then raised questions about why some authors had been chosen and others hadn’t. France, which I believe to be the most well awarded country in the history of the prize, hasn’t had any of its women awarded. For the author of the book this was quite the astonishment. They then went on to list several who, to their estimation, would have been more than worthy winners: Marguerite Duras, Marguerite Yourcenar, Francoise Sagan, Simone de Beauvoir, Nathalie Sarraulte. Since then I’ve slowly been knocking these authors off of my list of authors to read. I still have to find to courage to read de Beauvoir and Sarraulte, both of whom have reputations grand enough to frighten me off, but the other three have each brought me a good deal of joy, confusion, and pleasure in their moment.
Which brings me to Sagan, who, I was warned by the author of that book about the Nobel, wrote romance novels. Which brings me to this book, which I found in a used bookstore that was closing down. I picked it up, looked suspiciously at the front and read the back, had a passing intrigue, was disappointed that it wasn’t her most well-admired classic, Bonjour Tristesse, but decided to add it to my pile and one day read it. It sat, for a year or two, on my bookshelf, and then for a year in a box in my parents’ basement when I was abroad, and then, for about two weeks, it occupied a space on the floor of my brother’s old bedroom, where I was organizing my collection into two piles, one which I would keep and one which I would get rid of, and, at the end of that organizing, it landed in my pile of books I will be disposing of; but, then, just as I was packaging those books into boxes to be donated to the prison, a small pile of books started develop, books that I don’t really want to keep, I don’t think, but that I do want to read before they leave the house. The pile grew to be about 30 in height, and this is now the pile of books that I am selecting my reading from; it sits at the side of my bed and stares at me while I sleep, each book surely aware of its fate, and perhaps hopeful that it too, like Destroy, She Said (by the aforementioned Marguerite Duras), will find its way back into my pile of books that I am going to keep.
After having finished this book, I can tell you that it won’t. But that isn’t quite it’s fault. Let me talk about the book now.
Every now and then you read something that just makes sense. It understands itself, it limits its ambitions, it is managed, it is all that it could hope to be and nothing less. Like the perfectly filled jar of home-made jam, there is no space for air inside under the lid, and no line of sticky preserve falling in an unsightly glop over the side - all of its contents, its ideas, its sentences fit perfectly into the shape of the thing that the author was creating. I’ve read a few of these sorts of books in my life, and each time I do I come away impressed. Pride and Prejudice comes to mind. Skylark. The Summer Book. Cassandra. Damn near any story by Alice Munro.
I think this book is one of those perfect little creations, in its way. All of it fits in the slim pages and the few words of tight, fluid and, in surprising ways, lyrical writing. Its characters are interesting, something more than what one would expect of the book but never more than what is needed; each one is given all the space to grow that they need and not more. Speaking of the story, it both supports, with the characters, a great many of the tropes that you imagine to be part and parcel with the genre and manages to subvert a great many of them. And it offers a level of sophistication that develops slowly, and reaches a nice ringing, similar to a bell at Christmas in a carol or down the street singing from the church’s midnight mass, tingling the spine with pleasure just before dying back to silence. It is a book trimmed of the unnecessary, of the fat of writing, and reduced to its most basic and important truths.
There isn’t much to the story that I can say without ruining it, so I’ll instead talk about the characters. I liked Paule. She is the central character of the love stories in this book - the one developing with Roger, an old lover, and the other developing with Simon, a new, young man who has entered into Paule’s life unexpectedly and caused his little waves of chaos. She was a complicated and lovely figure. With her sophistication and fine-ness she came out of the pages, felt human for a moment or two, like a figure in an old Hollywood film, a starlet, beautiful and intelligent and trapped in the very things which brought her joy. I liked hearing her voice, her tension, her uncertainty, and resignations. I admired her in a way, though I’m not sure what that way was. Have I felt some of her feelings before? Maybe. No. I don’t think so. Maybe because I’ve seen this one before? Like in a movie somewhere. I can see it, now that I think of it, in black and white, Greta Garbo is Paule, a dashing young man fills of the role of Simon, a young Cary Grant, the two of them in her small apartment in Paris, modestly decorated because she isn’t incredibly wealthy but carefully decorated because of her profession, and then Roger, Fredric March, filling the role of the older lover who, if nothing else, is consistent, and that is worth something, isn’t it, just being consistent is worth something isn’t it? I guess that might be worth something. But perhaps Greta is a bit too dramatic to play this role; is it possible to bring in somebody with the careful statements of the physical gesture, somebody like Audrey Hepburn, but to push her into the 1930s, or can we bring the others into the 1950s and 1960s, and just make it all click, the tension, the sex, the pleasure, the malaise, the decadence, the streets of Paris and the bars where they would dance? Yes, this is a movie I think.
So, then, only three glowing goodreads stars instead of five, despite a wave of admiration sent to it. Why?
Because, for all the good that this novella offers, for all of the ways that it surprised me, for the pleasure it brought me, for the insight it offers, I came away not feeling as though it really offered me anything that hasn’t been offered before in movies with nameless classic movie stars who I cannot name but somehow can picture - that is, right up until that last chapter, which I’m not going to talk about, but serves its purpose, like everything in this book, just perfectly. Ultimately, like those movies I liked this book. Nothing more, nor less; a simple pleasure.
As for Sagan? I wish I could rate her, because I would rate her quite highly. I look forward to reading more of her works, which is to say that I will be buying more romance novels at second hand book store clearance sales so long as her name is on the spine. Aimez-vous Brahms? Oui, mon cheri.
February 17, 2020
“In the name of the deceased, I charge you for letting the love pass by, for neglecting the duty to be happy, for living out of excuses, pretense and accepting with the fate. You should be condemned to death, but you'll be sentenced to solitude.”
Another lovely forage into the beautiful and elegant world of Françoise Sagan. I have got a bit obsessed with her now and am consistantly making lists of all the books I want to read by her.
This, her fourth novel, tells the story of the beautiful and accomplished Paule, an interior designer who is having a rather awkward affair with Roger (who in turn is cheating on her every chance he gets).
She is drawn to Roger and cannot let him go because he represents all that she wants in a man, regardless of the fact their affair is built on secrecy and disrespect.
Enter Simon, a young and breathtakingly handsome layabout who falls head over heels for Paule which only serves to distance her from him more and more (or rather, she play acts at doing so, when in reality she is also falling for him too)... Paule has no idea what to do. She wants both of these very diferent men but also wants to be left alone...
Don't you love the French way of having affairs? So glamourous and the least discreet way to behave.
More Ms Sagan please!!!
Another lovely forage into the beautiful and elegant world of Françoise Sagan. I have got a bit obsessed with her now and am consistantly making lists of all the books I want to read by her.
This, her fourth novel, tells the story of the beautiful and accomplished Paule, an interior designer who is having a rather awkward affair with Roger (who in turn is cheating on her every chance he gets).
She is drawn to Roger and cannot let him go because he represents all that she wants in a man, regardless of the fact their affair is built on secrecy and disrespect.
Enter Simon, a young and breathtakingly handsome layabout who falls head over heels for Paule which only serves to distance her from him more and more (or rather, she play acts at doing so, when in reality she is also falling for him too)... Paule has no idea what to do. She wants both of these very diferent men but also wants to be left alone...
Don't you love the French way of having affairs? So glamourous and the least discreet way to behave.
More Ms Sagan please!!!
May 28, 2021
M'ha agradat moltíssim però si torno a llegir un llibre que la trama és noia bojament enamorada d'un home que no li fa cas potser m'hauré de matar
March 9, 2024
I always and always return to this Sagan. Personally, her best novella and I've read it, I think by now, countless times. It breaks my heart every single time. It's just indescribable how much I love it. When I read it for the first time I was much too young but it marked me for a lifetime.
February 18, 2025
Lieblos, dahinskizzierte Fingerübung um eines Skandals willen.
Inhalt: 1/5 Sterne (menage à trois)
Form: 2/5 Sterne (langweilig, einfallslos)
Erzählstimme: 1/5 Sterne (unreflektiert-personal)
Komposition: 1/5 Sterne (unbalanciert)
Leseerlebnis: 2/5 Sterne (unaufregender Kitsch)
Sagan gehört zu den erfolgreichsten Schriftstellerinnen überhaupt. In der Nachkriegszeit, nach ihrem Debütroman Bonjour tristesse hat sie viele Bestseller geschrieben, von denen auch viele verfilmt wurden. Lieben Sie Brahms… gehört zu den erfolgreichsten. Der Roman erzählt von der Liebe einer 39jährigen Frau zu einem 25jährigen Tunichtsgut:
»Ich mache mich nicht über Sie lustig, sondern über die Rollen, die Sie spielen ...«
[Simon] hatte [Paule] losgelassen, er sah plötzlich müde aus.
»Es stimmt, ich spiele«, sagte er. »Ihnen habe ich den jungen und glänzenden Anwalt vorgespielt und den zaghaften Liebhaber und das verwöhnte Kind, und Gott weiß was alles. Aber seitdem ich Sie kenne, spiele ich alle meine Rollen für Sie. Glauben Sie nicht, daß das Liebe ist?«
»Es ist eine ganz gute Definition der Liebe«, sagte sie lächelnd.
Sagans Roman plätschert in beliebig-episodenhafter Erzählmanier vor sich her und präsentiert das amouröse Wiederkehren des immergleichen Eros-Problems: der Widerstand, die Unmöglichkeit lassen eine Beziehung erst attraktiv erscheinen, die plötzlich, sobald sie im Fahrwasser des Normalen einläuft, unattraktiv, ja lächerlich wirkt. Paule kämpft gegen die öffentliche Meinung, die ihr nicht erlaubt, einen jüngeren Liebhaber zu haben. Simon fühlt sich von Roger, dem älteren Mann herausgefordert, Paule zu erobern, und Roger will sich von einem jüngeren die Frau nicht ausspannen lassen. So richtig glücklich wird niemand von ihnen:
»Ich würde lieber selber leiden«, sagte Simon und vergrub sein Gesicht an Paules Hals.
Als sie am Abend wieder nach Hause kam, hatte er drei Viertel einer Whiskyflasche ausgetrunken und war gar nicht mehr ausgegangen. Er erklärte mit großer Würde, daß er private Sorgen gehabt habe, improvisierte eine Rede über die Schwierigkeiten des Seins und schlief auf dem Bett ein, während sie ihm die Schuhe auszog. Halb gerührt, halb erschrocken.
In der Einfalt und Naivität des Erzählens schimmert eine glänzende Zeitkritik heraus, die aber in Bonjour tristesse viel besser gelingt, da dort die Komposition entschiedener, der Ton melodischer, die Intensität austarierter bleibt. Hier duftet doch alles zu sehr nach Seifenoper. Sagans Stil verfliegt zwischen den halb gestalteten Figuren. Zu viel, zu wenig, zu schnell, zu beliebig. Leider. Simone de Beauvoirs Die Welt der schönen Bilder trifft das Ambiente mehr ins Herz, und Marguerite Duras in Der Liebhaber , mit verteilten Rollen, sowieso. Lieben Sie Brahms … erscheint wie eine lieblose Fingerübung um des Skandals willen. Mehr nicht.
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Details – ab hier Spoilergefahr (zur Erinnerung für mich):
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Inhalt: ● Hauptfiguren:
Paule, 39 Jahre alt, Innenarchitektin, lebt mit Roger Ferttet zusammen, der ein ähnliches Alter besitzt.
Simon Van den Besh, 25 Jahre, Jura-Assessor, Sohn von Teresa, einer Klientin von Paule, der sich in Paule verliebt.
● Kurzzusammenfassung/Inhaltsangabe: Paule, in einer offenen Beziehung mit Roger, fühlt sich einsam, trifft per Zufall auf den herumlungernden Simon, der sich in sie Hals über Kopf verliebt, und beginnt mit diesem eine Affäre, die zwei, drei Jahre hält, bevor sie wieder mit Roger zusammenkommt, der sie dann wieder vernachlässigt.
● Detaillierte Inhaltsangabe/Zusammenfassung: 1.) Paule (P) und Roger (R) leben in einer offenen Beziehung, die insbesondere R nutzt, und zwar mit einer Schauspielerin namens Maisy. P fühlt sich einsam und vernachlässigt, außerdem haben P und R Geldsorgen, denn das Geschäft von R läuft nicht so gut. Eine US-amerikanische Kundin verspricht einen guten Verdienst, eine Madam Van den Besh. 2.) Bei ihrer Kundin lernt Paule deren Sohn Simon (S) kennen, der sich sofort in P verguckt. 3.) S fühlt sich und sein Leben entleert, fühlt sich von der Ernsthaftigkeit Ps angezogen, fragt sie nach einem Date, aber sie schlägt aus. Später treffen R und P S in einem Lokal und verbringen den Abend zusammen. 4.) S lauert P bei der Arbeit auf (Schaufensterdekoration), und sie verbringen einen Nachmittag gemeinsam. 5.) R schiebt Arbeit vor, um mit Maisy das Wochenende zu verbringen, lügt P an, die die Lüge merkt. P will das Wochenende nicht alleine mit einem Buch verbringen, besucht ihre Klientin, die ihr Fotos von S zeigt. P schwankt zwischen Fürsorge und Interesse für S. Mutter erzählt ihr von S latentem Alkoholismus. 6.) S lädt sie zu einem Brahms-Konzert ein und fragt sie, ob sie Brahms mag. Die Frage erinnert P daran, dass auch ihre Wünsche zählen. S fühlt sich hingezogen zu P, will sie beschützen, auch hat er R mit Maisy in der Gegend von Paris gesehen, verrät es aber P nicht. 7.) R hat ein schlechtes Gewissen wegen seiner Untreue und Lüge, außerdem ist er eifersüchtig auf S. 8.) S schreibt P einen Liebesbrief. P ungehalten mit R. Sie antwortet S, der daraufhin so schnell wie möglich von einer Geschäftsreise mit seinem Anwaltschef zurückkommt. Melancholisch und aufgeregt. 9.) P und S verbringen eine Zeit im Bois de Bologne, betrachten einen sich mühenden Ruderer. P lehrt S Impulskontrolle, küsst ihn auf dem Rückweg. 10.) R intensiviert seine Affäre mit Maisy. Auf einer Dinerparty fühlt sich R wie ein wildes Tier gegen S und P, die kultiviert über Vernissagen, Ausstellungen und Konzerte sprechen. 11.) Ein Besuch bei einer Jazzsängerin motiviert S P aufzusuchen. Nachdem die Aussprache mit R misslungen ist, fühlt sich P nun berechtigt, sich S hinzugeben. Sie verbringen die Nacht miteinander. 12.) S nun vollends verliebt, wird zum Taugenichts, und lässt alles schleifen und trinkt zu viel. R lebt seine Affäre aus, ekelt sich aber vor sich selbst, kehrt zurück, aber traut sich nicht in die Wohnung von P. 13.) Aussprache zwischen R und P. Sie stürzt weinend nach Hause. S eifersüchtig, beginnt zu trinken. 14.) S verfällt mehr und mehr dem Trinken, da er die Wirkung, die R auf P hat, nicht aushält. Er verlottert. 15.) R lädt P zur Skiurlaub ein, sie schlägt aus. S und P gehen Tanzen. Sie hören Kommentare darüber, wie P für S zu alt erscheint. Sie ist gekränkt. S versucht sie umzustimmen. 16.) Das Alter steht zwischen ihnen, das einerseits die Beziehung bremst und andererseits befeuert. 17.) Zeitsprung: R allein im Zimmer, zwei, drei Jahre später, unglücklich. 18.) Sie treffen sich zu viert zufällig in einem Loka, P und S und R und seine schwarze Tanzpartnerin. R und P sehen sich an und kommen wieder zusammen. Am ersten Abend versetzt R P wieder. P weiß, sie ist nun wirklich alt.
… vgl. Annie Ernaux „Der junge Mann“, Simone de Beauvoir „Die Mandarins von Paris“ und „Die Welt der schönen Dinge“ sowie James Baldwin „Giovannis Zimmer“. Nur bei Sagen, ehrlich, unverkopft, oberflächlich, schnell abgehandelt, die Wiederkehr des Immergleichen, nur in der Beziehung, zwischen den Reichen und Schönen, die im Grunde leer und unglücklich sind. Kein Vergleich zu Marguerite Duras „Der Liebhaber“. Besitzt keine einheitliche Atmosphäre, zu gekünstelt … Beziehung erscheint nicht spannend, nicht inhaltlich motiviert. Eher ein Dandyroman. Viel zu klischeehafte Männer so-Frauen so-Gespräche, Dialoge. --> 1 Stern
Form: Gleitende, fließende, hier aber nichtssagende Sprache, die nicht einmal versucht, in die Innerlichkeit der Dinge zu gelangen. Unaufgeregt, unärgerlich, aber nicht intensiv. --> 2 Sterne
Erzählstimme: Episodenhaftes Erzählen, jeweils, pro Szene personal. Insofern unreflektierter auktorialer Erzähler, der nicht in Erscheinung tritt. Wirkt leider aufgesetzt, hätte aus Paules Sicht erzählt werden sollen, nicht auch noch aus Simons, Maisys und Rogers. --> 1 Sterne
Komposition: Wirklich befremdend, das schnelle Ende – der Zeitsprung von zwei, drei Jahren im letzten Kapitel, unmotiviert, angekündigt, unausgetragen, auch der Alkoholismus nicht, keine erwähnenswerte Struktur. --> 1 Stern
Leseerlebnis: Vor sich hinplätscherndes Leseerlebnis, kein Vergleich zu „Bonjour Tristesse“, eher ein Abklatsch, besonders durch die unaustarierte Verdichtung und Komposition, die fehlende Einheit von Zeit und Raum und Person, die gar kein Drama aufkommen lässt. Langweiliger, unaufgeregter Kitsch-Roman. --> 2 Sterne
Inhalt: 1/5 Sterne (menage à trois)
Form: 2/5 Sterne (langweilig, einfallslos)
Erzählstimme: 1/5 Sterne (unreflektiert-personal)
Komposition: 1/5 Sterne (unbalanciert)
Leseerlebnis: 2/5 Sterne (unaufregender Kitsch)
Sagan gehört zu den erfolgreichsten Schriftstellerinnen überhaupt. In der Nachkriegszeit, nach ihrem Debütroman Bonjour tristesse hat sie viele Bestseller geschrieben, von denen auch viele verfilmt wurden. Lieben Sie Brahms… gehört zu den erfolgreichsten. Der Roman erzählt von der Liebe einer 39jährigen Frau zu einem 25jährigen Tunichtsgut:
»Ich mache mich nicht über Sie lustig, sondern über die Rollen, die Sie spielen ...«
[Simon] hatte [Paule] losgelassen, er sah plötzlich müde aus.
»Es stimmt, ich spiele«, sagte er. »Ihnen habe ich den jungen und glänzenden Anwalt vorgespielt und den zaghaften Liebhaber und das verwöhnte Kind, und Gott weiß was alles. Aber seitdem ich Sie kenne, spiele ich alle meine Rollen für Sie. Glauben Sie nicht, daß das Liebe ist?«
»Es ist eine ganz gute Definition der Liebe«, sagte sie lächelnd.
Sagans Roman plätschert in beliebig-episodenhafter Erzählmanier vor sich her und präsentiert das amouröse Wiederkehren des immergleichen Eros-Problems: der Widerstand, die Unmöglichkeit lassen eine Beziehung erst attraktiv erscheinen, die plötzlich, sobald sie im Fahrwasser des Normalen einläuft, unattraktiv, ja lächerlich wirkt. Paule kämpft gegen die öffentliche Meinung, die ihr nicht erlaubt, einen jüngeren Liebhaber zu haben. Simon fühlt sich von Roger, dem älteren Mann herausgefordert, Paule zu erobern, und Roger will sich von einem jüngeren die Frau nicht ausspannen lassen. So richtig glücklich wird niemand von ihnen:
»Ich würde lieber selber leiden«, sagte Simon und vergrub sein Gesicht an Paules Hals.
Als sie am Abend wieder nach Hause kam, hatte er drei Viertel einer Whiskyflasche ausgetrunken und war gar nicht mehr ausgegangen. Er erklärte mit großer Würde, daß er private Sorgen gehabt habe, improvisierte eine Rede über die Schwierigkeiten des Seins und schlief auf dem Bett ein, während sie ihm die Schuhe auszog. Halb gerührt, halb erschrocken.
In der Einfalt und Naivität des Erzählens schimmert eine glänzende Zeitkritik heraus, die aber in Bonjour tristesse viel besser gelingt, da dort die Komposition entschiedener, der Ton melodischer, die Intensität austarierter bleibt. Hier duftet doch alles zu sehr nach Seifenoper. Sagans Stil verfliegt zwischen den halb gestalteten Figuren. Zu viel, zu wenig, zu schnell, zu beliebig. Leider. Simone de Beauvoirs Die Welt der schönen Bilder trifft das Ambiente mehr ins Herz, und Marguerite Duras in Der Liebhaber , mit verteilten Rollen, sowieso. Lieben Sie Brahms … erscheint wie eine lieblose Fingerübung um des Skandals willen. Mehr nicht.
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Details – ab hier Spoilergefahr (zur Erinnerung für mich):
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Inhalt: ● Hauptfiguren:
Paule, 39 Jahre alt, Innenarchitektin, lebt mit Roger Ferttet zusammen, der ein ähnliches Alter besitzt.
Simon Van den Besh, 25 Jahre, Jura-Assessor, Sohn von Teresa, einer Klientin von Paule, der sich in Paule verliebt.
● Kurzzusammenfassung/Inhaltsangabe: Paule, in einer offenen Beziehung mit Roger, fühlt sich einsam, trifft per Zufall auf den herumlungernden Simon, der sich in sie Hals über Kopf verliebt, und beginnt mit diesem eine Affäre, die zwei, drei Jahre hält, bevor sie wieder mit Roger zusammenkommt, der sie dann wieder vernachlässigt.
● Detaillierte Inhaltsangabe/Zusammenfassung: 1.) Paule (P) und Roger (R) leben in einer offenen Beziehung, die insbesondere R nutzt, und zwar mit einer Schauspielerin namens Maisy. P fühlt sich einsam und vernachlässigt, außerdem haben P und R Geldsorgen, denn das Geschäft von R läuft nicht so gut. Eine US-amerikanische Kundin verspricht einen guten Verdienst, eine Madam Van den Besh. 2.) Bei ihrer Kundin lernt Paule deren Sohn Simon (S) kennen, der sich sofort in P verguckt. 3.) S fühlt sich und sein Leben entleert, fühlt sich von der Ernsthaftigkeit Ps angezogen, fragt sie nach einem Date, aber sie schlägt aus. Später treffen R und P S in einem Lokal und verbringen den Abend zusammen. 4.) S lauert P bei der Arbeit auf (Schaufensterdekoration), und sie verbringen einen Nachmittag gemeinsam. 5.) R schiebt Arbeit vor, um mit Maisy das Wochenende zu verbringen, lügt P an, die die Lüge merkt. P will das Wochenende nicht alleine mit einem Buch verbringen, besucht ihre Klientin, die ihr Fotos von S zeigt. P schwankt zwischen Fürsorge und Interesse für S. Mutter erzählt ihr von S latentem Alkoholismus. 6.) S lädt sie zu einem Brahms-Konzert ein und fragt sie, ob sie Brahms mag. Die Frage erinnert P daran, dass auch ihre Wünsche zählen. S fühlt sich hingezogen zu P, will sie beschützen, auch hat er R mit Maisy in der Gegend von Paris gesehen, verrät es aber P nicht. 7.) R hat ein schlechtes Gewissen wegen seiner Untreue und Lüge, außerdem ist er eifersüchtig auf S. 8.) S schreibt P einen Liebesbrief. P ungehalten mit R. Sie antwortet S, der daraufhin so schnell wie möglich von einer Geschäftsreise mit seinem Anwaltschef zurückkommt. Melancholisch und aufgeregt. 9.) P und S verbringen eine Zeit im Bois de Bologne, betrachten einen sich mühenden Ruderer. P lehrt S Impulskontrolle, küsst ihn auf dem Rückweg. 10.) R intensiviert seine Affäre mit Maisy. Auf einer Dinerparty fühlt sich R wie ein wildes Tier gegen S und P, die kultiviert über Vernissagen, Ausstellungen und Konzerte sprechen. 11.) Ein Besuch bei einer Jazzsängerin motiviert S P aufzusuchen. Nachdem die Aussprache mit R misslungen ist, fühlt sich P nun berechtigt, sich S hinzugeben. Sie verbringen die Nacht miteinander. 12.) S nun vollends verliebt, wird zum Taugenichts, und lässt alles schleifen und trinkt zu viel. R lebt seine Affäre aus, ekelt sich aber vor sich selbst, kehrt zurück, aber traut sich nicht in die Wohnung von P. 13.) Aussprache zwischen R und P. Sie stürzt weinend nach Hause. S eifersüchtig, beginnt zu trinken. 14.) S verfällt mehr und mehr dem Trinken, da er die Wirkung, die R auf P hat, nicht aushält. Er verlottert. 15.) R lädt P zur Skiurlaub ein, sie schlägt aus. S und P gehen Tanzen. Sie hören Kommentare darüber, wie P für S zu alt erscheint. Sie ist gekränkt. S versucht sie umzustimmen. 16.) Das Alter steht zwischen ihnen, das einerseits die Beziehung bremst und andererseits befeuert. 17.) Zeitsprung: R allein im Zimmer, zwei, drei Jahre später, unglücklich. 18.) Sie treffen sich zu viert zufällig in einem Loka, P und S und R und seine schwarze Tanzpartnerin. R und P sehen sich an und kommen wieder zusammen. Am ersten Abend versetzt R P wieder. P weiß, sie ist nun wirklich alt.
… vgl. Annie Ernaux „Der junge Mann“, Simone de Beauvoir „Die Mandarins von Paris“ und „Die Welt der schönen Dinge“ sowie James Baldwin „Giovannis Zimmer“. Nur bei Sagen, ehrlich, unverkopft, oberflächlich, schnell abgehandelt, die Wiederkehr des Immergleichen, nur in der Beziehung, zwischen den Reichen und Schönen, die im Grunde leer und unglücklich sind. Kein Vergleich zu Marguerite Duras „Der Liebhaber“. Besitzt keine einheitliche Atmosphäre, zu gekünstelt … Beziehung erscheint nicht spannend, nicht inhaltlich motiviert. Eher ein Dandyroman. Viel zu klischeehafte Männer so-Frauen so-Gespräche, Dialoge. --> 1 Stern
Form: Gleitende, fließende, hier aber nichtssagende Sprache, die nicht einmal versucht, in die Innerlichkeit der Dinge zu gelangen. Unaufgeregt, unärgerlich, aber nicht intensiv. --> 2 Sterne
Erzählstimme: Episodenhaftes Erzählen, jeweils, pro Szene personal. Insofern unreflektierter auktorialer Erzähler, der nicht in Erscheinung tritt. Wirkt leider aufgesetzt, hätte aus Paules Sicht erzählt werden sollen, nicht auch noch aus Simons, Maisys und Rogers. --> 1 Sterne
Komposition: Wirklich befremdend, das schnelle Ende – der Zeitsprung von zwei, drei Jahren im letzten Kapitel, unmotiviert, angekündigt, unausgetragen, auch der Alkoholismus nicht, keine erwähnenswerte Struktur. --> 1 Stern
Leseerlebnis: Vor sich hinplätscherndes Leseerlebnis, kein Vergleich zu „Bonjour Tristesse“, eher ein Abklatsch, besonders durch die unaustarierte Verdichtung und Komposition, die fehlende Einheit von Zeit und Raum und Person, die gar kein Drama aufkommen lässt. Langweiliger, unaufgeregter Kitsch-Roman. --> 2 Sterne
November 17, 2025
فیلم کلاسیک Goodbye Again که اقتباسی از این رمان است و با بازی درخشان اینگرید برگمن، ستارهٔ زیبای سینما، ساخته شده را دیده بودم. برای من، فیلمش بسیار جذابتر و دلنشینتر از کتاب بود. تماشای این فیلم را به همهٔ دوستداران فیلمهای کلاسیک پیشنهاد میکنم.
خانم فرانسواز ساگان در این رمان، عشق های شکننده، ترس از تنهایی و روابط پیچیده احساسی را به تصویر می کشد.
خانم فرانسواز ساگان در این رمان، عشق های شکننده، ترس از تنهایی و روابط پیچیده احساسی را به تصویر می کشد.
July 9, 2024
One of the things that struck me most about this beautiful novella was the intelligent, snappy, biting dialogue. It reflects a time when people communicated properly and ‘depth of conversation’ meant something. The banter, the to-and-fro, was reminiscent of a fencing duel. Delicious! I lapped it up!
Yet ‘Aimez-vous Brahms?’ is captivating not just for the tense, sharp dialogue but also for its elegant prose. Having gone through something of a mini Sagan-fest of late, the familiar poignancy, which is a delicate blend of sadness and beauty, and the intricacies of relationships, which are complex and often misunderstood, set against the backdrop of Paris are once again in evidence. We also reflect on ageing, the contrasting outlook of young versus old, desire and vulnerability, and trying to find meaning in life/relationships.
The author’s observations and reflections around the fragility of happiness are profound and exceptionally astute; this tale is full of insights, such as the fleeting nature of joy and the unexpected sources of contentment one would not normally encounter in a writer so young.
This work is, if anything, slightly more nuanced than the previous two I read and clearly shows a developing sense of maturity in the author's writing. The issues Sagan writes about are entirely relatable and remain relevant in contemporary society.
I adored it. I willingly immersed myself, wallowed even, in the nostalgia, romance, and melancholy of the Latin Quarter. I am indebted to a GR friend for the tip!
Yet ‘Aimez-vous Brahms?’ is captivating not just for the tense, sharp dialogue but also for its elegant prose. Having gone through something of a mini Sagan-fest of late, the familiar poignancy, which is a delicate blend of sadness and beauty, and the intricacies of relationships, which are complex and often misunderstood, set against the backdrop of Paris are once again in evidence. We also reflect on ageing, the contrasting outlook of young versus old, desire and vulnerability, and trying to find meaning in life/relationships.
The author’s observations and reflections around the fragility of happiness are profound and exceptionally astute; this tale is full of insights, such as the fleeting nature of joy and the unexpected sources of contentment one would not normally encounter in a writer so young.
This work is, if anything, slightly more nuanced than the previous two I read and clearly shows a developing sense of maturity in the author's writing. The issues Sagan writes about are entirely relatable and remain relevant in contemporary society.
I adored it. I willingly immersed myself, wallowed even, in the nostalgia, romance, and melancholy of the Latin Quarter. I am indebted to a GR friend for the tip!
October 31, 2016
Nu a fost tocmai genul meu de romanță, însă de-a lungul paginilor i-am avut în față pe Ingrid Bergman și pe Anthony Perkins, datorită memorabilei interpretări pe care aceștia au făcut-o în filmul care are la bază cartea de față, Goodbye Again(1961).
May 21, 2011
This is a re-read for me. I was probably too young at my first attempt, but with me being closer to the age of the protagonist, the tale gains in poignancy and nuance. My infatuation with Ingrid Bergman and her portrayal of the main character in a claasic movie may also colour my positive reaction to the text.
The story is deceptively simple and we have read it a thousand times by now: a love triangle in the city of love, Paris. A woman forced to look at her mid-life options and trying to recapture the exuberance and passion of youth, a study of loneliness and the curious attraction for a self-centered bully of an old lover versus the volatile, sensitive and slightly morbid younger man.
The text is very short, but is has a poetic , insightful quality and I wouldn't add or take away any page.
The English translation was good, but I would still like to try the original French version.
a quote:
Paule thought without bitterness: men really are amazing. "I trust you so much" - so much that I can deceive you and abandon you, yet there can be no question of the same thing happening in reverse.
It took one's breath away.
The story is deceptively simple and we have read it a thousand times by now: a love triangle in the city of love, Paris. A woman forced to look at her mid-life options and trying to recapture the exuberance and passion of youth, a study of loneliness and the curious attraction for a self-centered bully of an old lover versus the volatile, sensitive and slightly morbid younger man.
The text is very short, but is has a poetic , insightful quality and I wouldn't add or take away any page.
The English translation was good, but I would still like to try the original French version.
a quote:
Paule thought without bitterness: men really are amazing. "I trust you so much" - so much that I can deceive you and abandon you, yet there can be no question of the same thing happening in reverse.
It took one's breath away.
August 13, 2018
Iako melanholičan, roman nije patetičan. Predvidljivost mu ne oduzima draž već uz pomoć sveprisutnog daška Parižanima svojstvenog joie de vivre, kom ni istom merom prisutna seta ne umanjuje intenzitet, stvara bajkovitu atmosferu koja se ne da napustiti, pa se roman čita u dahu. Poput paukove mreže vešto su ispletene tri sudbine čije su se glavne uloge našle na pozornici Polinog života. Bramsova melodija prati njen iskorak u nepoznato, te ću pružiti sebi dovoljno slobode i pitanje romana prevesti na sledeći način:
Volite li okolnosti koje prete da vam promene život iz korena?
Prikaz je na blogu: http://totallyrandombyc.blogspot.com/...
Volite li okolnosti koje prete da vam promene život iz korena?
Prikaz je na blogu: http://totallyrandombyc.blogspot.com/...
March 30, 2021
This is such an exasperating book! It has a sort of its own beauty, but on the whole it is stereptypical and sad, especially the ending. Bitter, fatalistic and pessimistic.
March 2, 2024
Nachtrag/2013
June 11, 2020
Франсоаз Саган, това енфан терибл, познава много добре жените, а още повече мъжете. Всяка нейна история е толкова взета от живота, че направо изглежда стереотипна и в която лесно бихме се припознали. Наричат я "лековата" и "лесносмилаема", но харесвам начина, по който ми поднася ненатрапчивите си истории и деликатната истина, премълчана в тях.
August 20, 2022
Mi-aduc aminte vag cã am vãzut cândva ecranizarea.
Cartea am tot evitat-o, de vinã o fi şi exemplarul vechi rãmas de la pãrinții mei. Oricum, nu e o carte rea, probabil cã la 19 ani mi-ar fi dat mai mult de gândit. Apreciez franchețea scriitoarei, cred cã a avut şi a cunoscut mulți bãrbați, altfel nu i-ar fi ieşit atât de bine acel triunghi amoros şi dinamica relațiilor dintre amorezi. Ce lipseşte acolo e un anume nivel de profunzime, poate cã e prea multã vitezã sau identificare doar cu Paula. Ea este centrul de greutate, femeia-trofeu dupã care se întorc admirativ capetele pe stradã, femeia independentã financiar, femeia invidiatã şi vorbitã pe la colțuri de cucoanele trecute. Tot Paula este femeia care face casa confortabilã şi aşteaptã la ceas de searã (ne)rãbdãtoare un telefon de la masculul iubit de ea. (*apropos de pe cine iubeşte ea , asta e cu adevãrat uimitor, ea e atrasã inevitabil de bãrbatul plin de sine care o mai înşealã cu altele , dar se întoarce periodic la ea - la asta se pricepe Francoise Sagan foarte bine, la a reda slãbiciunile inimii, la a se identifica cu hoții de emoții).
Cartea am tot evitat-o, de vinã o fi şi exemplarul vechi rãmas de la pãrinții mei. Oricum, nu e o carte rea, probabil cã la 19 ani mi-ar fi dat mai mult de gândit. Apreciez franchețea scriitoarei, cred cã a avut şi a cunoscut mulți bãrbați, altfel nu i-ar fi ieşit atât de bine acel triunghi amoros şi dinamica relațiilor dintre amorezi. Ce lipseşte acolo e un anume nivel de profunzime, poate cã e prea multã vitezã sau identificare doar cu Paula. Ea este centrul de greutate, femeia-trofeu dupã care se întorc admirativ capetele pe stradã, femeia independentã financiar, femeia invidiatã şi vorbitã pe la colțuri de cucoanele trecute. Tot Paula este femeia care face casa confortabilã şi aşteaptã la ceas de searã (ne)rãbdãtoare un telefon de la masculul iubit de ea. (*apropos de pe cine iubeşte ea , asta e cu adevãrat uimitor, ea e atrasã inevitabil de bãrbatul plin de sine care o mai înşealã cu altele , dar se întoarce periodic la ea - la asta se pricepe Francoise Sagan foarte bine, la a reda slãbiciunile inimii, la a se identifica cu hoții de emoții).
October 29, 2020
★★★☆☆ 3 stars
"E io accuso lei di non aver fatto il suo dovere di essere umano; la accuso di essersi lasciata sfuggire l'amore, di aver dimenticato il dovere di essere felice, di aver vissuto di scappatoie, di espedienti e di rassegnazione."
"E io accuso lei di non aver fatto il suo dovere di essere umano; la accuso di essersi lasciata sfuggire l'amore, di aver dimenticato il dovere di essere felice, di aver vissuto di scappatoie, di espedienti e di rassegnazione."
January 2, 2018
Книгата може и да имаше малко повече стойност, която обаче беше безвъзвратно провалена от нескопосания изказ. Не препоръчвам това издание, определено.
August 12, 2024
(3.75) At age 39, divorced interior decorator Paule is “passionately concerned with her beauty and battling with the transition from young to youngish woman”. (Ouch. But true.) It’s an open secret that her partner Roger is always engaged in a liaison with a young woman; people pity her and scorn Roger for his infidelity. But when Paule has a dalliance with a client’s son, 25-year-old lawyer Simon, a double standard emerges: “they had never shown her the mixture of contempt and envy she was going to arouse this time.” Simon is an idealist, accusing her of “letting love go by, of neglecting your duty to be happy”, but he’s also indolent and too fond of drink. Paule wonders if she’s expected too much from an affair. “Everyone advised a change of air, and she thought sadly that all she was getting was a change of lovers: less bother, more Parisian, so common”.
I was by turns reminded of Chéri by Colette, In a Summer Season by Elizabeth Taylor, and even The Graduate (“Mrs. Robinson,” anyone?). Simon asks the title question to invite Paule to a concert; that she has to ponder it carefully tells her she’s “losing herself, losing track of herself”. But it’s all too easy for the status quo to be reinstated after a brave act. Middle-aged woman makes bid for freedom but ultimately nothing changes: same plot as The Funeral Cryer and any number of other books, but this was so much better. How did Sagan manage such insight at age 24 (and this was her fourth book)?! While not quite as memorable as Bonjour Tristesse, this is another incisive slice of fiction that has aged well apart from using “sodomite” and “Negress” as matter-of-fact terms for bit players. I’d read anything else I can find by Sagan.
Originally published on my blog, Bookish Beck.
I was by turns reminded of Chéri by Colette, In a Summer Season by Elizabeth Taylor, and even The Graduate (“Mrs. Robinson,” anyone?). Simon asks the title question to invite Paule to a concert; that she has to ponder it carefully tells her she’s “losing herself, losing track of herself”. But it’s all too easy for the status quo to be reinstated after a brave act. Middle-aged woman makes bid for freedom but ultimately nothing changes: same plot as The Funeral Cryer and any number of other books, but this was so much better. How did Sagan manage such insight at age 24 (and this was her fourth book)?! While not quite as memorable as Bonjour Tristesse, this is another incisive slice of fiction that has aged well apart from using “sodomite” and “Negress” as matter-of-fact terms for bit players. I’d read anything else I can find by Sagan.
Originally published on my blog, Bookish Beck.
Want to read
July 10, 2024Is anyone able to point me in the direction of an English (or Spanish) edition of this wee little book for a decent price? All I've managed so far is a Spanish edition just under $60 🥴
April 20, 2020
What a tragic little story, but I really enjoyed it. Weirdly enough this reminded me of Barbara Pym's books, only very, very French and sad. It's about a quiet woman approaching middle age, in a not very happy relationship with a longtime lover who keeps cheating on her. Not even a spoiler, but:
Beautifully written and rather short, so even my weak-ish French was up to it.
Plus, I've always found the title very intriguing ... And I do love Brahms. :)
Beautifully written and rather short, so even my weak-ish French was up to it.
Plus, I've always found the title very intriguing ... And I do love Brahms. :)
July 29, 2019
I like the...imagery of Françoise Sagan's writing. I really do. There are a few paragraphs that seem so unbelievably real.
But the topic of the book isn't the kind of thing that works for me. I just can't feel anything but dislike and disdain for the characters and their actions. Maybe it's a lack of empathy on my part but it's just so pathetic, they're all so pathetic.
But the topic of the book isn't the kind of thing that works for me. I just can't feel anything but dislike and disdain for the characters and their actions. Maybe it's a lack of empathy on my part but it's just so pathetic, they're all so pathetic.
December 2, 2023
In the name of the deceased, I charge you for letting the love pass by, for neglecting the duty to be happy, for living out of excuses, pretense and accepting with the fate. You should be condemned to death, but you'll be sentenced to solitude.
April 20, 2019
Questa volta: Film 3 Libro 1.
Musica stupenda, attori di più.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y08dR...
Musica stupenda, attori di più.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y08dR...
July 21, 2021
La Paule i en Roger són el que avui anomenaríem una parella oberta. Però aquesta fórmula no funciona si un dels membres no en vol fer ús. La Paule espera cada dia que en Roger deixi de tenir aventures i sigui només per ella. Sap prou bé que ell l'estima, però sembla que no en té prou. La Paule li és fidel, és dona d'un sol home. Però tot canviarà quan coneix en Simon, un noi 14 anys més jove que ella, però amb qui de seguida teixeix vincles. El triangle amorós està servit.
La relació amb en Roger fa infeliç la Paule, però li aporta estabilitat, equilibri. En canvi, viu amb passió continguda l'enamorament amb en Simon, però amb 25 anys ell i 39 ella, i amb la poca formalitat de la joventut, la Paule dubta que puguin compartir un futur. Què li pesarà més? Això és el que es decideix a 'T'agrada Brahms?', una lluita entre el cor i el cap, entre la serenitat i la passió. Una història que se'ns anirà explicant des de la perspectiva canviant dels tres protagonistes, però que té en la Paule l'indubtable eix vertebrador.
Sagan recupera alguns dels clixés que ja va mostrar a 'Bon dia, tristesa', per bé que aquí s'aborden des d'una perspectiva més madura. La protagonista és una dona forta i amb conviccions, però molt supeditada als rols i a les voluntats masculines, mentre que els dos protagonistes mostren tots els defectes estereotipics: immaduresa, llibertinatge, deixadesa, gelosia i un masclisme omnipresent.
Tot i que té molts elements per la reflexió i l'autora sap mantenir el pols narratiu, no és una història que m'hagi impressionat gaire en termes generals. Li sé trobar virtuts en els detalls, però em costa més en el conjunt. Qüestió de gustos, deu ser que això dels triangles amorosos no fa per mi.
(SERGI)
La relació amb en Roger fa infeliç la Paule, però li aporta estabilitat, equilibri. En canvi, viu amb passió continguda l'enamorament amb en Simon, però amb 25 anys ell i 39 ella, i amb la poca formalitat de la joventut, la Paule dubta que puguin compartir un futur. Què li pesarà més? Això és el que es decideix a 'T'agrada Brahms?', una lluita entre el cor i el cap, entre la serenitat i la passió. Una història que se'ns anirà explicant des de la perspectiva canviant dels tres protagonistes, però que té en la Paule l'indubtable eix vertebrador.
Sagan recupera alguns dels clixés que ja va mostrar a 'Bon dia, tristesa', per bé que aquí s'aborden des d'una perspectiva més madura. La protagonista és una dona forta i amb conviccions, però molt supeditada als rols i a les voluntats masculines, mentre que els dos protagonistes mostren tots els defectes estereotipics: immaduresa, llibertinatge, deixadesa, gelosia i un masclisme omnipresent.
Tot i que té molts elements per la reflexió i l'autora sap mantenir el pols narratiu, no és una història que m'hagi impressionat gaire en termes generals. Li sé trobar virtuts en els detalls, però em costa més en el conjunt. Qüestió de gustos, deu ser que això dels triangles amorosos no fa per mi.
(SERGI)
September 18, 2018
Nein, Madame Sagan verstand es nicht, mich mit diesem Buch zu überzeugen. Mit Voranschleichen der Handlung begannen mich Paule, Simon und Roger zunehmend zu langweilen.
Die Einführung der drei Charaktere geschah durchaus gekonnt. Konfliktpotential hätte ausgereicht, um die Handlung rasant voranzutreiben, bis im Finale die emotionsgeladene Atmosphäre zerplatzt. Stattdessen kam mir Paule wie ein unreifes altes Mädchen vor, die unter einer Weide sitzend Blütenblätter zupft ("Ich liebe Roger, ich liebe ihn nicht. - Ich liebe Simon, ich liebe ihn nicht. - Ich fühle mich jung. Ich fühle mich alt. - Ich weiß, was ich tu, ich weiß es nicht.") --- Argh, diese Frau kostete mich Nerven. Trotz ihrer erst 39 Jahren ist sie selbst überzeugt schon alt zu sein und hätte ich das Alter nicht gewusst, hätte ich sie durch ihre Gedanken und Reden auch für 70 gehalten.
Neben einem gesunden Selbstbild fehlte es ihr völlig an Courage und Entscheidungskraft. Wenn sie letztlich die sichere Zukunft mit Selbstbetrug und gewohnheitsmäßigen Seitensprung des Geliebten wählt, statt Begehren, ehrlichen Interesse und unsicherer Zukunft mit dem Anderen, dann hat sie das Ende nicht anders verdient.
So stellte sich die Handlung genauso seicht und einschläfernd heraus, wie ich die Verfilmung mit Bergman, Montand und Perkins in Erinnerung hatte. Zwei Sterne gebe ich nur, weil ich französische Dreiecksgeschichten mag, weil mir die reifen und klugen Worte Simons gen Ende gefielen und weil ich den Schlusssatz für gerecht halte und somit ein Happyend im truffaut'schen Sinne ist, wie ich es mag!
Die Einführung der drei Charaktere geschah durchaus gekonnt. Konfliktpotential hätte ausgereicht, um die Handlung rasant voranzutreiben, bis im Finale die emotionsgeladene Atmosphäre zerplatzt. Stattdessen kam mir Paule wie ein unreifes altes Mädchen vor, die unter einer Weide sitzend Blütenblätter zupft ("Ich liebe Roger, ich liebe ihn nicht. - Ich liebe Simon, ich liebe ihn nicht. - Ich fühle mich jung. Ich fühle mich alt. - Ich weiß, was ich tu, ich weiß es nicht.") --- Argh, diese Frau kostete mich Nerven. Trotz ihrer erst 39 Jahren ist sie selbst überzeugt schon alt zu sein und hätte ich das Alter nicht gewusst, hätte ich sie durch ihre Gedanken und Reden auch für 70 gehalten.
Neben einem gesunden Selbstbild fehlte es ihr völlig an Courage und Entscheidungskraft. Wenn sie letztlich die sichere Zukunft mit Selbstbetrug und gewohnheitsmäßigen Seitensprung des Geliebten wählt, statt Begehren, ehrlichen Interesse und unsicherer Zukunft mit dem Anderen, dann hat sie das Ende nicht anders verdient.
So stellte sich die Handlung genauso seicht und einschläfernd heraus, wie ich die Verfilmung mit Bergman, Montand und Perkins in Erinnerung hatte. Zwei Sterne gebe ich nur, weil ich französische Dreiecksgeschichten mag, weil mir die reifen und klugen Worte Simons gen Ende gefielen und weil ich den Schlusssatz für gerecht halte und somit ein Happyend im truffaut'schen Sinne ist, wie ich es mag!
October 2, 2022
رواية عن تضارب المشاعر، لدى فتاة ذات 39 عامًا، تعاني من جفاف علاقتها بحبيبها الذي يخدعها بمعرفته لفتاة أخرى، ويدخل حياة الفتاة شاب صغير في ال 25 من عمره فينقلب حالها ويدور صراع بداخلها وسط أزمتها لما يدور على ألسنة الناس عنها
December 31, 2021
4,5/5
Moja prvá knižka od autorky a rozhodne nie posledná. Nemala ani 120 strán a predsa ponúka komplexný príbeh.
Je to kniha o láske, nevere, klamstvách, samote, bolesti, rezignácii a strachu. To všetko v príbehu, ktorý bol veľmi pekný aj tragický a lámal mi srdce.
Autorka napísala postavy brilantne a realisticky. Nešťastná žena, muž, ktorý ju potrebuje, ale nie natoľko, aby jej bol verný a o 15 rokov mladší muž, ktorý by pre ňu zniesol aj modré z neba. Lenže vymaniť sa z pazúrov zvyku, spomienok a spoločenských konvencii nie je jednoduché.
Ťažko som si mohla vybrať niečo lepšie na uzavretie svojho knižného roka. Tenučké, no fantastické dielo.
Moja prvá knižka od autorky a rozhodne nie posledná. Nemala ani 120 strán a predsa ponúka komplexný príbeh.
Je to kniha o láske, nevere, klamstvách, samote, bolesti, rezignácii a strachu. To všetko v príbehu, ktorý bol veľmi pekný aj tragický a lámal mi srdce.
Autorka napísala postavy brilantne a realisticky. Nešťastná žena, muž, ktorý ju potrebuje, ale nie natoľko, aby jej bol verný a o 15 rokov mladší muž, ktorý by pre ňu zniesol aj modré z neba. Lenže vymaniť sa z pazúrov zvyku, spomienok a spoločenských konvencii nie je jednoduché.
Ťažko som si mohla vybrať niečo lepšie na uzavretie svojho knižného roka. Tenučké, no fantastické dielo.
December 19, 2023
Книга, від якої я б у підлітковому віці була б м'яко кажучи в шоці (ну бо хто і нащо буде терпіти токсичні стосунки з мужиком, який сприймає тебе як предмет? я вас питаю!), але в 31 рік це все makes sense. І зовсім не тому, що описані стосунки стали менш токсичними, просто всередині переживається це все інакше. Бо я вже знаю, що це - тиск на жінок через їхній вік чи спосіб життя, знаю як це - бути прив'язаною до людини, яка робить тобі боляче. А тепер треба все помножити на десять, оскільки події відбувається у п'ятидесятих.
Чудовий антипідручник для жінок, ще й ідеальна квінтесенсія паризькості.
Чудовий антипідручник для жінок, ще й ідеальна квінтесенсія паризькості.
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