Voortschrijdend inzicht

by Julian Barnes, Ronald Vlek (Vertaler)

Julian Barnes vertelt openhartig en met lichte zelfspot over momenten in zijn leven waarop hij tot een nieuw inzicht is gekomen, en hoe hij daardoor van gedachten is veranderd. Bijvoorbeeld als zelfverklaard taalpurist die schoorvoetend toegeeft dat bepaalde woorden wel degelijk van betekenis kunnen veranderen, of als geëngageerde burger die niet altijd op dezelfde politieke partij stemt, of als fervente lezer wiens smaak in de loop der jaren is veranderd.

Hij komt tot de ontdekking dat hij minder standvastig is dan hij altijd wilde geloven. Zelfs zijn opvattingen ten aanzien van het geheugen – zijn grootste literaire thema bij uitstek – blijken leniger dan hij altijd dacht. En dat is niet erg.

Sterker nog, voortschrijdend inzicht hoort bij ouder worden, bij het voortschrijden van de tijd, zoals Barnes haarfijn uit weet te leggen in deze fascinerende beschouwingen.

Genres: Essays, Nonfiction, British Literature, Memoir, Audiobook, Philosophy, 21st Century

85 pages, Hardcover

First published March 18, 2025

About the author

Julian Patrick Barnes is an English writer. He won the Man Booker Prize in 2011 with The Sense of an Ending, having been shortlisted three times previously with Flaubert's Parrot, England, England, and Arthur & George. Barnes has also written crime fiction under the pseudonym Dan Kavanagh (having married Pat Kavanagh). In addition to novels, Barnes has published collections of essays and short stories.
In 2004 he became a Commandeur of L'Ordre des Arts et des Lettres. His honours also include the Somerset Maugham Award and the Geoffrey Faber Memorial Prize. He was awarded the 2021 Jerusalem Prize.

Reviews

[Ilse · Rating 4 out of 5]

Change of mind, or change of heart?

I believe deeply in words, in their ability to represent thought, define truth, and create beauty. I’m equally aware that words are constantly used for the opposite purposes: to obfuscate truth, misrepresent thought, lie, slander, and provoke hatred.


(photograph by Marzena Pogorzaly)

Having been fangirling about Julian Barnes’ pretty phenomenal, brilliant collection Through the Window: Seventeen Essays and years after reading still warmed by the memory of his delicious The Pedant in the Kitchen, the discovery that Julian Barnes has published another book with essays made my heart beat faster. Very eager to read it, as soon as I could lay my hands on a (library) copy, I wolfed down his words greedily, despite knowing reading so hastily is unwise, and slowly savouring the better choice. One can look at this flimsy book as one essay in five chapters or comprising five mini-essays, it is so short that it seems already over the moment you turn the first page.

The new Barnest turned out a little less new than at first sight, as this essay was already presented in the shape of five episodes that Barnes read in 2016 on BBC Radio 3 in the series The Essay. As I was unaware of those radio versions, such didn’t bother me but it might be disappointing for readers who hoped for more novelty or already listened to the broadcast.

In Changing My Mind Barnes reflects on memory, words, politics, books, aging and time, each time from the perspective that he might have changed his views or perception– or not, and in what way, and what such exactly might signify, having a change of mind. Apparently the foolish and the dead alone never change their opinion, so I was intrigued how Julian Barnes would approach the topic.

Do we change our mind, or does our mind changes us? Why do we believe that changing our mind is an improvement? What makes us change our mind, facts of life or a changing emotional landscape? Does our imagination reshape our memory?

At the first quick reading, the chapter on Books stood out – or simply spoke most to me, as a reader’s reader, cheering Barnes the reader advocating rereading, leaving me musing on his reflection that aging as such doesn’t make one a more intelligent reader, but maybe a subtler one, because one is able to compare with other books and writers, and armed with the extra knowledge of extra life. Whether true or not, such is a pleasant enough thought for a reader (and a reassuring one too, for this aging reader ever more plagued by forgetfulness).

Like in Through the Window: Seventeen Essays, Barnes writes about writers and books with such intelligence and infectious enthusiasm that all you want to do it stop the clock, drop everything (beware not to break your cup of tea or coffee) and run for a copy of the book Barnes declares his love for. He confesses a change of mind on Georges Simenon – reminiscing his friend Anita Brookner reading Chez Krull – who he now thinks worthy of the Noble Prize because of his ‘romans durs’. He acknowledges the pleasure of reading E.M. Forster who he no longer experiences as the “fusty, musty, dusty” writer he hated in his youth but as an perceptive author, slightly subversive towards English snobbishness, even satirical and witty instead. Having not read fiction by Forster yet, Barnes’ eulogy makes me yearn to finally read Where Angels Fear to Tread, to indulge in what is behind that lyrical title that has been enchanting me for years.

Looking back on his days as a lexicographer for the Oxford English Dictionary, in the chapter Words a Flaubertian echo is reverberating – the search for the mot juste, the distaste of cliché. Even if Barnes scoffs at Academie française for its old-fashioned linguistic purism and rigidity, contrasting it with the flexibility of the English language and his own leniency towards certain linguistic evolutions, he seems ironically aware that he follows in the footsteps of his curmudgeonly master when ranting on sloppy language.

In Politics, Barnes depicts his political viewpoints by establishing the B.B.R – the Barnes’s Benign Republic – a mildly funny utopian programme declaration with mostly gentle views that are easy to relate to or sympathize with, like his call to stop seeing education in merely utilitarian terms. What he calls his moderate opinions, moderately hold, rather come across as a good-natured common sense (the nonsense of ‘trickle down economics’), but maybe they sound a little insipid just because his kind of moderate voice seems obsoletely civilised in current times? Again, his Francophilia peeps through, quoting Charles de Gaulle.


(Gary Hickin)

Love, grief, time, it are familiar themes for readers of Barnes, and his thoughts and questions on mortality, if the consciousness of the end nearing changes our experience of time in our last weeks or months, his memento mori concluding the collection, inevitably had me in tears only at the thought that this collection would be his swansong - may his years ahead be filled with joy, good health and longevity, and ours with his books.

As a whole, this collection exudes a melancholic irony. It might be just a little less compelling than his previous work, but the (many) fans of Barnes will still find some fine Barnesian thoughts, wisdom and humour in it and enjoy his elegant, silken writing.

An extract (the chapter ‘Memory’) can be read here.
(*** ½)

[Marc Lamot · Rating 3 out of 5]

Very concise gem (only 60 pages), but beautiful. Barnes has brought together five short essays on things he has changed his mind about during his life. In Barnes' style, they have become almost perfect musings, with a lot of wisdom and especially a good dose of ironic self-deprecation. Wonderful. One striking omission, however: Barnes talks about memories, language, politics and books, but not at all about friends or lovers about whom he has changed his mind. Of course, that is very delicate (certainly if they are still alive), but it seems to me that friendships and love relationships are more essential in life than those other things. Mind you, he is forgiven, and besides, he has mused about that enough in his novels in the past!

[Henk · Rating 4 out of 5]

Erudite essays on memory, rereading, politics and the mind in general. I consistently enjoy the writing of Barnes, even though this has less depth than other works of him
We may admit to two or three major shifts in our lifetime – which we would have to be blind not to see – but on the whole prefer to believe that we are consistent human beings rather than seaweed tossed around by the tides. We believe – we have to believe, otherwise we would be lost – in the integrity of the personality; also in the continuity of our lives making narrative sense. We don’t like to think we have lost the plot

Featuring essays from 2016 Barnes reflects on how the mind works, in respect to not just memory, but also language, politics and books.
As we are used, Julian Barnes is erudite and has interesting takes and quotes that make you think. And the bundle is quite humorous as well!

Quotes:
The economist John Maynard Keynes, charged with inconsistency, famously replied, ‘When the facts change, I change my mind.’

The Dadaist Francis Picabia once put it like this: ‘Our heads are round so that our thoughts can change direction.’

So if things are this way round – if it’s the brain, the mind that gives birth to what we think of as ‘I’, then the phrase ‘I changed my mind’ doesn’t make much sense. You might as well say, ‘My mind changed me.’

I think, more strongly than I used to, that we constantly reinvent our lives, retelling them – usually – to our own advantage. I believe that the operation of memory is closer to an act of the imagination than it is to the clean and reliably detailed recuperation of an event in our past. I think that sometimes we remember as true things which never even happened in the first place; that we may grossly embellish an original incident out of all recognition; that we may cannibalise someone else’s memory, and change not just the endings of the stories of our lives, but also their middles and beginnings. I think that memory, over time, changes, and, indeed, changes our mind. That’s what I believe at the moment, anyway.

Language is tidal, oceanic, and the individual standing up with a placard of protest is inevitably washed away by a veritable tsunami

If reading is one of the pleasures – and necessities – of youth, rereading is one of the pleasures – and necessities – of age.

[°•.Melina°•. · Rating 4 out of 5]

بسیار جستار شیرینی بود، فصل زمان و حافظه رو خیلی دوست داشتم. از ایشون باید بیشتر بخونم، اولین مواجهه‌م با بارنز بود~ این کتاب هم به لیست ریویوهایی که باید بهتر براش بنویسم اضافه میکنم.
🔖آذر ۱۴۰۴

[Paula Mota · Rating 5 out of 5]

4,5*

Não creio que, aos 65, sejamos leitores mais inteligentes do que aos 25; apenas e tão-somente mais subtis, bem como mais capazes de estabelecer comparações com outros livros e outros escritores, tendo como pano de fundo o acréscimo de conhecimento adquirido com o acréscimo de vida.

Como diz o nosso Camões, “Mudam-se os tempos, mudam-se as vontades”, mas mudar de ideias é falta de carácter ou é prova de adaptabilidade? Nós mudamos de ideias ou são as ideias que nos mudam a nós? Neste charmoso conjunto de ensaios sobre a mutabilidade, uma das primeiras citações de Julian Barnes aponta para o dadaísta Francis Picabia: “As nossas cabeças são redondas para que as nossas ideias possam mudar de direção”, o que sugere de imediato que a inconstância faz parte da natureza humana.
Dividido em cinco temas, Memórias, Palavras, Política, Livros, Idade e Tempo, Barnes expõe os seus pensamentos e dá exemplos de como tem mudado de ideias em quase 80 anos de vida, com a típica fleuma britânica, parecendo uma pessoa moderada e cordata nos seus pareceres, mas rematando inesperada e contundentemente que tem “opiniões fortes fortemente sustentadas”, como convém que seja.
E como não ter opiniões fortes se temos consciência do que nos rodeia? Isso torna-se flagrante no capítulo Política, mesmo enveredando demasiado pelas eleições locais para quem não é britânico, em que o autor deixa bem clara a sua ideologia e mundividência, aquela que aplicaria na República Benigna de Barnes, para a qual me mudaria já.

Imediata candidatura a regressar à União Europeia, autorização dada à Escócia para fazer o referendo sobre a independência, se os escoceses assim entenderem; encorajamento à ilha da Irlanda para se reunificar. (…) Pelo menos um dos palácios reais seria transformado em museu dedicado à memória do tráfico de escravos, com uma completa explicação dos proventos gerados e dos beneficiários. A educação (e re-educação, re-re-educação) dos homens na juventude para fazer diminuir a violência e a coerção sobre as mulheres.

Na secção dedicada às palavras, identifiquei-me com a indignação de Barnes em relação à forma como os falantes assassinam a língua e, tal como ele, partilho com Evelyn Waugh “a ânsia senil de escrever cartas aos jornais” quando isso acontece. A parte sobre os livros é talvez a que ressoe mais fortemente com os leitores, ainda que a das memórias permita o cruzamento com obras de ficção deste escritor:

Sabemos que a memória se degrada. Acabamos por perceber que a cada vez que a recordação é tirada do cacifo e exposta estamos a fazer-lhe uma alteração minúscula. E por isso as histórias que, na maior parte dos casos, contamos sobre as nossas vida são provavelmente menos fiáveis, porque as fomos subtilmente emendando sempre que as contávamos ao longo dos anos.

Então, se “todo o mundo é composto de mudança”, não há nada a que Julian Barnes se mantenha ainda fiel? Claro que muitas das suas convicções se mantêm, mas delas cito a minha preferida:

À primazia da arte e à convicção de que a literatura corresponde ao melhor sistema que temos para compreender o mundo.

[Katya]

Passei a minha vida a conviver com palavras, a escrevê-las e a lê-las. As palavras são a maneira como construo a minha imagem do mundo exterior tanto o real no qual vivo, como os ficcionais que crio. Começo o dia a ler palavras num jornal impresso e, antes de apagar a luz, termino-o com uma revista ou um livro. Acredito profundamente nas palavras, na capacidade que têm de representar o pensamento, definir a verdade e criar beleza. Estou também consciente de que as palavras são constantemente usadas para atingir objetivos opostos: para ofuscar a verdade, distorcer o pensamento, mentir, caluniar e provocar o ódio. Penso igualmente nas palavras como sendo móveis, escorregadias, metamórficas.

Barnes é, acho que não muita gente discordará, um cultor de uma literatura de caráter snob, intelectualizada, com espírito positivista, às vezes romântica outras tantas vezes idealista e filosófica. Tudo isto, coisas que normalmente assustam e repelem os leitores por um certo quê de presunção e arrogância que as acompanham. Mas em Barnes esta mescla de intelectualismo e pedantismo funciona de uma forma bizarra e muito britânica, levando a que o leia tanto pela experiência estética - visual, auditiva ou o que preferirem - como pela experiência racional (que gosto de acreditar que tenho). E uma e outra são resultados inevitáveis quando se enceta a leitura deste livrinho.
Mas vamos por partes.
Estes ensaios, pequenas peças compostas para o programa de rádio da BBC 3, The Essay, não nascem do nada. Isto é, o próprio programa que convida Barnes a compor estas peças oferece o contexto para a sua descodificação. No ar desde 2007, The Essay é uma rubrica com uma premissa interessante e rara que, semanalmente, põe no ar monólogos temáticos a cargo (mãos, intelecto e voz) de académicos e escritores que se debruçam sobre temas tão variados como filosofia, história, arte, literatura, ciência ou religião. Mas, melhor ainda, o programa conta com aquilo que chama "nova geração de pensadores", procurando a participação de novas gerações de académicos nos seus episódios, não deixando nenhum tópico por explorar, antes permitindo-se não filtrar as divagações filosóficas dos seus autores. Barnes não está, claro, dentro da categoria de "nova geração", mas nem por isso a sua participação é menos relevante, até porque, no que toca a divagar filosoficamente, Barnes já o fazia antes de a maioria de nós saber ler ou escrever o que quer que fosse (académico ou não). Mas a voz de Barnes é particularmente relevante quando o tema em causa é aquele que dá nome a este livro: Mudar de ideias.
A minha pergunta, perante este título, foi imediata: como pode um homem, então com setenta anos feitos, abordar uma questão de maleabilidade, de fluidez e flexibilidade mental como este de mudança numa altura em que, assumimos, a determinação de ideias e ideais está, mais do que nunca, cimentada? Barnes, que nunca assumiria a plasticidade da juventude depois de setenta anos de vida, chega lá de forma engenhosa, e fá-lo cirandando e levando o leitor/ouvinte a cirandar pelos caminhos da memória:

Acho que às vezes nos lembramos de coisas como se fossem verdades, mas que, afinal, nunca aconteceram, que podemos embelezar grosseiramente um episódio original fora de todo o reconhecimento, que podemos canibalizar a memória de outra pessoa e alterar não só o final das histórias das nossas vidas, mas também o meio e o princípio. Entendo que a memória, com o tempo, muda, alterando, de facto, as nossas ideias. Pelo menos, é nisso que acredito agora. Embora, dentro de alguns anos, talvez possa vir a mudar de opinião sobre tudo outra vez.

A abordagem aqui é uma de rememoração, de recordação e de análise de temas como o amor, a paternidade, a morte, questões que reorientam as nossas vidas e frequentemente [nos] fazem mudar de ideias. Mas Barnes não se fica por aí. Os ensaios são cinco: memórias, Palavras, Política , Livros, Idade e Tempo. Em cada um, frases quase lapidares dão origem a um sentido de humor depurado, num eterno jogo de palavras bem no melhor das capacidades do autor:

A linguagem é como a maré, como o oceano, e o individuo que se ergue com um cartaz de protesto é inevitavelmente arrastado por um autêntico tsunami... Hum, «tsunamis». Não me obriguem a falar disto.

E, verdade se diga, Barnes não se escusa a temas difíceis. Não é por se valer do humor que se permite o distanciamento, reconhecendo sempre para si um papel de interveniente em questões normalmente causadoras de celeuma. Em cada ensaio, Barnes é narrador e participante de uma ação que se faz de fragmentos biográficos em que se entrelaçam leituras, muitas leituras, recordações ternas e momentos de tensão:

Algumas pessoas, à medida que envelhecem, tornam-se mais conservadoras; ao longo dos anos, entre amigos e conhecidos, dei conta do familiar e suave arrastar de pés para a direita. Aqueles princípios idealistas que tinham aos vinte anos foram apagados pela exposição às realidades da vida. Ou: agora têm mais dinheiro do que antes e querem protegê-lo e dá-lo. Ou: começam a odiar os princípios dos jovens porque são notavelmente similares aos que tinham na própria juventude, princípios que entendem agora serem ilusões tolas. Ou: não querem simplesmente qualquer mudança nas suas vidas, muito obrigado.

Mas onde estes ensaios brilham é no seu último tópico (o tempo), quando a veia do escritor, despertada por um velho favorito lhe permite que se alongue em monólogos sedosos e apetecíveis:

Quando era criança, não pensava na forma como a idade e o tempo funcionavam para os adultos.(.)Nunca me passou pela cabeça que os adultos pudessem estar a fingir coisas, fosse nas reações, fosse nos sentimentos e opiniões que exprimiam, ou então na própria compreensão da vida. Tanto quanto era capaz de pensar nisso, partia do princípio de que, para eles, o tempo devia correr com a mesma estabilidade com que a vida lhes parecia correr. Depois cresci e mudei de ideias: apercebi-me de que a idade adulta não é tão sólida nem imperturbável como parecia vista de fora, e de que todas as suas supostas certezas se podiam deliquescer a qualquer instante.

No cerne de cada um destes textos, no entanto, permanece a ideia de mudança, mudança de ideias, de ideais, de opinião, de gosto, mudança não necessariamente ascendente, por vezes descendente, outras circular, às vezes constante, outras vezes de curta duração. O certo é que, nas então ainda sete décadas de vida do autor, houve muito espaço para mudança, para a interiorização da mudança e para a sua aceitação.
Curiosamente, decidimos editar este livro perto de dez anos após a emissão dos cinco episódios que o compõem. Pergunto-me que mudanças poderíamos ler nestes textos se fossem escritos e pensados hoje. Convidar Barnes, agora com os seus oitenta anos, a abordar os mesmos temas, no mesmo programa de rádio, dez anos após a emissão original, esse seria um verdadeiro exercício à sua inconstância intelectual. Pagava para ler (e ouvir).

[Chris · Rating 4 out of 5]

Eloquent en erudiet, witty en tongue-in-cheek, very British en bijgevolg altijd een plezier om te lezen, dat is Julian Barnes voor mij ten voeten uit. In 'Memories' legt hij nog eens uit hoe onbetrouwbaar ons geheugen kan zijn, omdat we elke herinnering die we oproepen telkens herschrijven. Niets zo heerlijk voor een schrijver die daar graag mee speelt.

Daarna duikt hij in zijn eigen werkmateriaal: 'Words'. Kritisch en relatief taalpuristisch, maar dat laatste veeleer vanuit kunstenaars-perspectief en zeker niet academisch. In 'Politics' klinkt hij écht very British, maar toch sluipt er naar het einde een universeel (links) utopia à la Barnes naar binnen dat glimlachend bevestigend doet ja-knikken.

Dan volgt 'Books', waarin hij me o.a. wist te overtuigen om Simenon te ontdekken en eindelijk eens iets van E.M. Forster te lezen. Qua 'changing his mind' is Barnes hier op z'n best. Maar hij eindigt erg menselijk in 'Age & time', door over de liefde, de ouderdom, de rouw en de dood te schrijven. Elk woord staat op de juiste plaats en dit hele boekje door geniet je van de helderheid die alleen een doorgewinterd en beslagen auteur als Julian Barnes kan bereiken. Een pareltje van 57 bladzijden.

[Dana · Rating 5 out of 5]

Uvek ću uživati u Barnsovim razmišljanjima i rečenicama, čak i kada se mnogo razlikuju od konteksta u kojem ja živim. Njegovo pisanje, stil, teme su mi kao kad mi neko donese čokoladu iz inostranstva - znaš da je kvalitetna, uživaš čak i ako pojedeš po jedan red dnevno pa gustiraš, i znaš da mogla i ovde jednako dobra da se pravi ali ova je em egzotična, em se sekiraš za domaću proizvodnju :)

[Pilar · Rating 3 out of 5]

Era un poco reacia a la hora de comprar los opúsculos de la colección Nuevos Cuadernos de Anagrama. Sospechaba que la intención última consistía en timarme — una media de 60 páginas a casi 13 euros—. Pero es que Barnes es mucho Barnes. Aún recuerdo cómo me dejó a moco tendido con Niveles de vida y eso solo se lo permito a contados escritores. En el fondo buscaba lo mismo que con Nada que temer, es decir, reforzar una tesis inicial, que siempre comparto, con múltiples argumentos. Si allí era defender que Dios no existe, aquí es convencerme de que cambiar de opinión es un auténtico privilegio. Así que ya sea por completar su obra en la estantería del salón, o por la posibilidad de volver a emocionarme, aboné lo esperado, eso sí, a regañadientes, aun sabiendo que estas cinco piezas literarias estaban a mi disposición libremente en la página de la BBC, en cinco episodios de 15 minutos del programa The Essay, locutadas en "inglés de la reina" por el ínclito pensador. Y me encontré con pequeños bocados de realidad respecto a cómo manejamos los recuerdos, el lenguaje, la política, los gustos librescos y el paso del tiempo, tratados con ironía fina, elegancia y esperanza. Una vez más, aunque saben a poco y parecen de perogrullo, me convenció de que sí a todo. Cambiar de criterio no significa debilidad de principios, simplemente es el resultado de un vida plena.

[Vanja Šušnjar Čanković · Rating 5 out of 5]

Dobri stari Barns. Uvijek aktuelan i svjež, britak. Sjajan prevod našeg divnog prof. Paunovića. Pet eseja na svega šezdesetak stranica (o sjećanjima, riječima, knjigama, politici, starosti i vremenu) o promjeni mišljenja. Rastemo li ako ne mijenjamo mišljenje? Osnovni principi Barnsove Blagotvorne Republike su suvo zlato. U iščekivanju njegovog, možda i posljednjeg romana, koji će biti objavljen na njegov osamdeseti rođendan, 19. januara, ako još niste, vrijeme je da se upoznate sa prebogatim opusom ovog po svemu posebnog Britanca.

"No premda sam u životu glasao za šest različitih stranaka - kao i za pojedine nezavisne kandidate na lokalnim izborima - ne smatram da sam ikad menjao mišljenje. Bar ne previše, u svakom slučaju. Menjale su se političke stranke, skretale u ovom ili onom pravcu, jureći glasove; kao glasač, ja sam ostajao principijelan. Pretpostavljam da mnogi od nas misle na sličan način. O, da, te su godine laburisti otišli previše ulevo da bih mogao da glasam za njih; ili, to je godina kada su torijevci bili otišli previše udesno. Naša su uverenja postojana; to su zapravo stranke nedosledne, promiskuitetne, nepostojane, sramotno povodljive kad je reč o principima."

[Kowsar Bagheri · Rating 5 out of 5]

مسئله‌ی تغییر عقیده همیشه برام دغدغه بوده. خصوصاً اینکه بعد از تغییر عقیده چه نسبتی با خود قبلی و عقیده‌ی قبلی می‌تونم برقرار کنم و جامعه چه نسبت‌هایی می‌تونه با تغییر عقیده‌‌ی یه فرد / یه جمع برقرار کنه.
به محض اینکه چاپ شد و تو پیشخان یه کتابفروشی دیدم خریدمش. عنوان، نویسنده، مترجم، نشر و همه‌چیز برام هیجان‌انگیز و وسوسه‌کننده بود.
جولین بارنز در این مجموعه‌جستار در مورد تغییر عقیده صحبت می‌کنه. جستارها به‌ترتیب درباره‌ی خاطرات، کلمات، سیاست و زمانه.
نثر و طرز فکر بارنز از چند جهت برام بسیار دوست‌داشتنی و جذابه. سهل و ممتنع می‌نویسه، انسجام فکری و کلامی خاص انگلیسی رو داره و شوخی‌هاش زیرپوستی و غلونشده و اما بی‌نهایت بامزه‌ن.
کلاً کتاب رو دوست داشتم و جستار موردعلاقه‌م جستار سیاسته. جدا از حرف‌های مهمی که می‌زنه، کلی باهاش خندیدم. بعضی‌جاها با صدای بلند.

[Oleh Bilinkevych · Rating 4 out of 5]

Шкода діда, на старість хапанув рак :(

[Monica · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a short book that reads like an older man’s musings on life. He doesn’t present anything new or groundbreaking- it’s not that kind of book. I think the topics he mentions are things that most older people think about, but rarely put into words. This might be why it was such an enjoyable read for me. It doesn’t hurt that the author has an eloquence with words that seems to be in short supply these days.

[emily · Rating 3 out of 5]

‘I believe deeply in words, in their ability to represent thought, define truth and create beauty. I’m equally aware that words are constantly used for the opposite purposes: to obfuscate truth, misrepresent thought, lie, slander and provoke hatred. I also think of words as being mobile, slippery, metamorphic.’

‘We change our minds about many things, from matters of mere taste – the colours we prefer, the clothes we wear – to aesthetic matters – the music, the books we like – to adherence to social groups – the football team or political party we support – to the highest verities – the person we love, the God we revere, the significance or insignificance of our place in the seemingly empty or mysteriously full universe. We make these decisions – or these decisions make us – constantly, though they are often camouflaged by the momentousness of the acts that provoke them. Love, parenthood, the death of those close to us: such matters reorient our lives, and often make us change our minds. Is it merely that the facts have changed? No, it’s more that areas of fact and feeling hitherto unknown to us have suddenly become clear, that the emotional landscape has altered. And in a great swirl of emotion, our minds change. So I think, on the whole, I have become a Picabian rather than a Keynesian.’

‘Nowadays, I would admire a writer who falls silent because he or she has nothing more to say; in my youth, I was less forgiving.’

‘I don’t regret my decades of failing to appreciate Forster. Rereading would be a dull and complacent business if it always resulted in a simple confirmation of what you had previously thought. And the pleasure of being proved wrong can be a genuine pleasure. But as you may imagine, this experience has made me reconsider some other speedy judgements of my youth. Who else might I have to change my mind about? Hmm. Anthony Powell? Saul Bellow? Iris Murdoch?’

‘And then there was that other Forsterian dictum: ‘If I had to choose between betraying my country and betraying my friend, I hope I should have the guts to betray my country.’ This may sound fine in theoretical, high-minded Bloomsburyite discussions, in which the personal life is held of greater value than the public life. But try telling that to, for instance, the families of those betrayed by Kim Philby. How many deaths was he responsible for? Forty or fifty, perhaps. Rather more consequential than just doing the dirty on a chum. But there was a final, and barely sensible – but to me very powerful – reason for cold-shouldering Forster.’

‘We may admit to two or three major shifts in our lifetime – which we would have to be blind not to see – but on the whole prefer to believe that we are consistent human beings rather than seaweed tossed around by the tides. We believe – we have to believe, otherwise we would be lost – in the integrity of the personality; also in the continuity of our lives making narrative sense. We don’t like to think we have lost the plot.’

“For example: ‘You’re only as old as you feel.’ I’ve never thought there was much truth in that. It seems in part a wilful denial of death; also, an invitation to embarrassing skittishness. I think, as a sceptical realist, that you are precisely as old as your driving licence and passport insist you are, and that you shouldn’t pretend otherwise. Then there’s ‘You’re only as old as you look.’ George Orwell ruefully laid it down that, ‘At fifty, everyone has the face he deserves.’ He himself didn’t live to find out whether or not this applied to him – . ’

‘Love is often seen as an experience in which the normal rules of the universe no longer apply. The poet Louis MacNeice famously wrote: ‘Time was away and somewhere else.’ Physical laws, from gravity to entropy, seem to be suspended without our even noticing, and the world is reduced to a reflection in the lover’s eye – On the one hand, yes, we want time to stand still, to be ‘away and somewhere else’ – and we want that moment to last forever. This might be ascribed to our poetic side. But we also have a prose side. And it is this prose side which wants time to roll on in its usual way, if not indeed faster, because it is only time that will confirm this love to be real and substantial rather than a passing delusion. The suspension of time might identify love, but the active presence of time is necessary to verify it. So we want both an eternal now, and an urgent future. A vivid present, but also a looking forward to the time when we can begin to look back.’

Note : rounded down to three because (felt greedy and) I wanted 'more' than this slim collection of essays.

[Ief Stuyvaert · Rating 3 out of 5]

Weinig Aha, behalve dan misschien in het stukje over Simenon, in de Beschouwing over Boeken.

Maar misschien denk ik daar morgen anders over.

Ben ik van gedachten veranderd.

[Deea · Rating 5 out of 5]

Excellent. It put me in the mood to read more Barnes soon.

[Dunja · Rating 5 out of 5]

tooo deda 🫶🏻

[Isabel · Rating 5 out of 5]

Este livro é um refúgio. Nele deixa de se ouvir o ruído cansativo das tantas vozes dominantes, aquelas cheias de certezas, dogmas e falsas indignações, apostadas em nos colonizarem as ideias, a independência de pensamento e a inteligência. Julian Barnes é um excelente observador do mundo e proporciona-nos nestes seus pensamentos “em voz alta” momentos de serenidade, lucidez, humor e sensibilidade. Ele escreve para descobrir o que pensa e não para confirmar o que já sabe. O resultado é um livro simples, bem-humorado e profundo que reflete sobre aspetos diversos da experiência humana, como arte, literatura, política, memória… e onde Barnes nos convida a construir as nossas certezas sem deixar de reconhecer o valor da dúvida e da curiosidade, ou seja, procurar compreender, sabendo que a compreensão é sempre provisória.
A escrita é muito elegante, o seu pensamento também. Um pequeno refúgio...

[Camelia Rose · Rating 4 out of 5]

A collection of 5 essays. I enjoy Julian Barnes writing, this one is no exception.


“I now agree that memory, a single person’s memory, uncorroborated and unsubstantiated by other evidence, is a feeble guide to the past. I think. More strongly, than I used to, that we constantly reinvent our lives, retelling them – usually – to our own advantage. I believe that the operation of memory is closer to an act of the imagination than it is to the clean and reliably detailed recuperation of the event in our past. I think that sometimes we remember as true things which never even happened in the first place; that we may grossly embellish an original incident out of all recognition; that we may cannibalise someone else’s memory, and change not just the endings of the stories of our lives, but also their middles and beginnings. I think that memory, over time, changes, and, indeed, changes our mind.”

[Marcus Hobson · Rating 4 out of 5]

A quiet seeming man emerges as rather feisty. That is my interpretation of what I have just read.

Changing my Mind is a short book containing five short essays. Their titles – Memories, Words, Politics, Books Age and Time – describe exactly what they are about. I do enjoy an essay where I learn something new or am given some information that I never knew before. The overall them of changing my mind is well represented in the thoughts about our memories, how we use certain words, books or rather authors that we once thought we hated, and the way we might vacillate between political parties.
I am a great admirer of Julian Barnes. A quick trip to the bookshelves reveals that I own twenty of his books. I like the novels but also the non-fiction such as The Man in the Red Coat and its romp through the Belle Epoque. So I was very happy to take this short journey, and I have to confess to being richly rewarded. Some of this will only work for the English, in particular the chapter on Politics which is completely English facing and will mean almost nothing to the rest of the world. My description of Barnes as feisty comes after reading this chapter in which he sets out his own notions for what is needed from a political party. I am with him all the way. The newspapers and the bankers would never agree, but I think he talks a lot of sense.
Elsewhere there are some real gems. This is some of the wisdom about memory:

I now agree that memory, a single person’s memory, uncorroborated and unsubstantiated by other evidence, is a feeble guide to the past. I think. More strongly, than I used to, that we constantly reinvent our lives, retelling them – usually – to our own advantage. I believe that the operation of memory is closer to an act of the imagination than it is to the clean and reliably detailed recuperation of the event in our past. I think that sometimes we remember as true things which never even happened in the first place; that we may grossly embellish an original incident out of all recognition; that we may cannibalise someone else’s memory, and change not just the endings of the stories of our lives, but also their middles and beginnings. I think that memory, over time, changes, and, indeed, changes our mind.

In the chapter on words we learn that Barnes in his first job after university spent three years as an editorial assistant on a supplement to the Oxford English Dictionary “researching the history of certain words and phrases between B and G, trying to find their earliest use, writing etymologies, pronunciations and definitions.”
He goes on to talk about his entry and exit from that world:

If I went in as an unthinking conservative prescriptivist, I came out as a liberal descriptivist. I no longer believed in some Golden Age of language, some platonic matching of word and thing. Nor did I accept the myth of linguistic decline – that once upon a time language was employed by people who always knew their wrist from their elbow, until the barbarians came through the gates bringing misuse, inaccuracy, vulgarisation. I came to believe instead that language was – and is – often approximate, that words mean only what we generally agree that they mean, and that the English language has always been in a state of tumultuous motion – and all the better for it.

He goes on to say a little more about the English language:

The English language is – has always been – a mongrel beast: that is partly where its vigour, energy and suppleness come from. Its porosity to the languages and dialects of other English speaking countries acts as a regular blood transfusion. Any writer born into the English language is very lucky: not just for all the many potential readers out there, but for the very words he or she is given to play – to play seriously – with.

The ten page chapter on books is equally interesting, with observations such as “I don’t think you are a more intelligent reader at sixty-five than at twenty-five: just a more subtle one, and better able to make comparisons with other books and other writers, set against the extra knowledge of extra life.” The chapter focuses mainly on E. M. Forster and how Barnes shifted from childhood hatred to middle age admiration. But just before that is a more interesting set of short observations about Georges Simenon, who for some reason I had assumed only wrote the Maigret detective novels. It seems he was convinced that he should have won the Nobel Prize. Barnes talked about this with Anita Brookner and it turns out that while there were some seventy-five Maigret novels, there were around two hundred romans durs, literally ‘hard novels’.

And began to discover a new, deeper, darker Simenon, one in which the world is not discovered and explained to you by a companionable detective, but put there unmediated, in front of you, without judgement, in all its bleakness and moral ambiguity. And I discovered a great writer, one lauded by Faulkner, Gide, Colette, Francoise Mauriac, Muriel Spark, T.S. Eliot, Somerset Maugham, John Le Carré and many others.

I am reminded that there was a brilliant French movie in the 1980s called ‘Monsieur Hire’ directed by Patrice Leconte who became one of my favourite directors. I remember now that it was based on a story by Simenon. It is always good to learn from your reading.

[Christina · Rating 4 out of 5]

I've yet to read heaps of Julian Barnes' nonfiction, but what I've read so far is thought provoking. While they write about very different subject matter, in many ways his writing reminds me of Rebecca Solnit, or Susan Neiman. Like Solnit, he has a knack for connecting things that don't seem related on the surface. What seemed like a tangent proves to be part of the bigger picture he is painting for us, and absolutely necessary to the composition. In Levels of Life, he started off talking about the early days of ballooning, and some of the larger-than-life aeronauts, before connecting it to grief. Like Neiman, he often makes points that seem obvious on hindsight, but weren't until he makes them. The publisher saw fit to quote one on the back cover copy.

"We always believe that changing our mind is an improvement, bringing a greater truthfulness to our dealings with the world and other people. It puts an end to vacillation, uncertainty, weak-mindedness. It seems to make us stronger and more mature. Well, we would think that, wouldn't we?"

Each short chapter looks at how we, in general, and Barnes, in particular, go about changing our minds on a subject: memories, words, politics, books, and time.

Do we change our minds when the facts change, as economist John Maynard Keynes put it? Or is more that our thoughts can change direction because our heads are round, as Dadaist Francis Picabia put it? Is it a sign the world is going to hell when words' meanings shift, like when we now say 'literally,' to mean what used to be 'figuratively?' When our politics change, is it more a matter of us holding the course while the parties and politicians vacillate around us, as most of us believe? Or are our strong opinions only weakly held? Does age make one a more intelligent reader with improved taste, or just more experienced with more books and more life? How does our view of time, as a lived-in phenomenon, change as we age and have more behind us than coming up?

Although this was brand new to me when I found it in my local library's catalog, it was originally an essay broadcast over five episodes for the BBC Radio 3 series, The Essay, back in 2016. There's been some updates and edits for the print version, especially in the "Politics" chapter, where Barnes has, yes, changed his mind in some ways over the years. As Barnes might say, apropos. But then, we would think that, wouldn't we?

[Marc Buelens · Rating 3 out of 5]

mijmeringen over geheugen (dat krijg je als schrijvers ouder worden), boeken lezen, stemmen op een politieke partij; het begint schitterend, met bijvoorbeeld op pagina 19: the war against cliché sounds well, a bit of a cliché, gevolgd door het dieptepunt waar hij uitlegt op welke partij hij (niet) gestemd heeft, maar ook daar natuurlijk briljante uitsmijters. Hij bleef altijd dezelfde, maakte hij zichzelf wijs, het waren de partijen die opschoven in de verkeerde richting. Het beste hoofdstuk is over boeken (her)lezen. Dat zou zo in het boek van De Wachter kunnen staan. Barnes veralgemeent moeiteloos van een exclusieve ervaring naar de fundamenten van ons wankel bestaan. Ideaal boekje om met een leesclub vol bejaarde lezers te bespreken.

[Erik Snel · Rating 5 out of 5]

Natuurlijk is dit een ouwelullenboek, het gaat immers over veranderende meningen en oordelen ten aanzien van vroegere, maar wat schrijft Barnes toch heerlijk. Helder, grappig, interessant. En toch ook wel belangrijk. Zijn visie op consistent oordelen is prikkelend ambivalent. Bij je mening blijven lijkt sterk, maar heeft meer met een pose naar de buitenwereld toe te maken dan met de eigen werkelijkheid. Het vergt lef om meningen te herzien en in verschillende werelden (van boeken tot politiek) laat hij zien wat de winst is om onbevooroordeeld te proberen een nieuw oordeel te vormen. maar ook zijn lijst van nooit herziene meningen - "Mrs Thatcher, er bestaat wel degelijk zoiets als een samenleving" - is smullen. Ik hoop dat hij nog veel van dit soort essays gaat schrijven.

[Sesili · Rating 3 out of 5]

Barns solidan.

[Sara Alaee · Rating 2 out of 5]

The book consists of a collection of five very short essays on topics of memory, words, politics, books and aging in which Barnes explores his personal experiences of changing his beliefs.

When discussing memory, he expresses concern that our memories are often distorted and may be products of imagination than accurate records of the past. In the chapter on words, Barnes shows that words are not rigid laws but flexible tools that can both convey truth and mislead. In his political essay, he points out that his own positions have not necessarily changed; rather, the political “center” has shifted over time. In the section on books, Barnes talks about writers he once viewed negatively but has come to understand more deeply as time has passed. And finally, he takes a philosophical look at aging and time, reflecting on how our view of ourselves and the world changes as we grow older.

All in all, not a bad book. But not deep either obviously as it is too short.

[Gerard de Bruin · Rating 4 out of 5]

Beautiful as always

[José Francisco · Rating 5 out of 5]

À medida que cresço, consigo identificar alguns temas em que mudei de opinião (ou, quiçá, em que “a minha mente me mudou” – p. 13) e indicar os motivos para que tal tenha ocorrido. Noutros temas, acredito que mantenho a mesma opinião há vários anos. A mudança nem sempre é sinal de incoerência e é nessa dicotomia que o excelente livro de Julian Barnes se inicia. Fazendo apelo à memória, o autor lembra que Keynes dizia que “Quando os factos mudam, eu mudo de opinião” (p. 9) e, por sua vez, Francis Picabia afirmava que “As nossas cabeças são redondas para que as nossas ideias mudem de direção” (p. 10). É possível que ambos tenhamos, nalguns momentos da nossa vida ou da reflexão que fazemos, momentos de Keynes e momentos de Picabia. Além disso, vemos que, tantas vezes, somos traídos pela nossa memória (isto é particularmente evidente quando, atentando no passado, retemos o bom) e, noutros casos, a nossa paisagem emocional (p. 17) muda e, com ela, a nossa mente.

Além da memória, o autor aborda as palavras que – também elas – mudam. Principalmente para falantes de língua inglesa (com alguns aspetos que são transponíveis para a língua portuguesa) este capítulo é muito interessante, v.g., com a exemplificação do significado de “to dicimate” [dizimar] que mudou aos nossos dias: já não usamos a palavra com o significado de “eliminar um em cada dez”; trata-se, antes, de “massacrar”. E este é, também, não podemos esquecer, um propósito de alguns: “ofuscar a verdade, distorcer o pensamento, mentir, caluniar, provocar ódio” (p. 32). Apesar disso, sabemos que as palavras não vivem numa redoma fechada e, numa língua viva, estão em formação constante e, com elas, o nosso pensamento e capacidade e possibilidade de mudança.

Entrando, depois, em aspetos concretos e práticos, o capítulo da política é deveras interessantíssimo, pois, como o autor comenta, já votou em seis partidos distintos, “mas não [se vê] como alguém que tem mudado de opinião” (p. 60). A explicação é simples: “Os partidos políticos é que mudaram, guinando para aqui e para ali, esquivando-se à cata de votos” (p. 60). Naquilo que é o arquétipo desta posição, Barnes indica: «A senhora Thatcher, quando lhe perguntaram uma vez qual tinha sido o seu maior êxito, declarou letalmente: “Tony Blair”» (p. 67).

Apesar disso, é possível mudar de ideias e o autor exemplifica com a ideia de que, em princípio, há uns anos, jovens tenderiam a votar à esquerda e, à medida que enriqueceriam, “arrastariam os pés para a direita” (p. 61), designadamente para proteção do seu património.

Ainda no campo prático, entramos no mundo da literatura, onde os livros e autores de que gostamos vão mudando, incluindo quando decidimos relê-los, já que a leitura é um dos prazeres e necessidades da juventude, ao passo que reler o é para a velhice (p. 81).

Por fim, o autor reflete sobre o tempo e o mundo, sabendo que o primeiro é essencial para a mudança. Aí há passagens extraordinárias como: «Vivemos dentro do tempo: cerca-nos e prende-nos; assinala o nosso começo e o nosso fim; data os nossos momentos de eleição e os nossos dias mais negros; referimo-nos a ele… o tempo todo» (p. 108). E, por fim, comparando o tempo enquanto crianças e adultos, creio que todos mudaremos de ideias: “a idade adulta não é tão sólida nem imperturbável como vista de fora” (p. 113).

Pessoalmente, apreciei bastante este pequeno livro, com tantas reflexões úteis, algumas das quais, confesso, em que me revi particularmente.

[Richard Cho · Rating 5 out of 5]

I believe that, out of all living authors, Julian Barnes is the only one whose every new book I propel myself to read within a few days of its publication. Such love-affair has begun since I read his novel "The Sense of an Ending," and his other novel "The Flaubert's Parrot" confirmed my faith in him. His other novels are great too; I really liked his latest novel "Elizabeth Finch." I sometimes mull over: why do I like Barnes's writing so much? Or rather, why do I like the way he tells a story so much? I once wrote a review of his non-fiction/fiction book called "The Man in the Red Coat" for the publication Los Angeles Review of Books. This was the highlight of my reviewer years.

Barnes is a romantic the kind of which it's hard to find these days. Earlier this year, I was listening to an audiobook version of his novel "The Sense of an Ending," and the way the now old narrator reflecting upon his younger years made my eyes misty. No author conveys the sad sense of time passing better than Barnes. He pinpoints what we are truly longing after when we reminisce on our past.

This new book is his long essay, on the topic of, yes, changing one's mind. He begins by complicating the not-so-clear binary between "I" and "mind" when one says "I changed my mind."

Throughout life, yes, there were occasions that he changed his mind on certain things, but as witty as he is, he complicates what that truly means. It could just well be that, as he gets older and "wiser," he saw things more clearly.

All our opinions are founded upon our subjective perception and even more subjective biases, of which all of us harbor. We are all biased beings. Sometimes, an event or a person shines a light on things hitherto hidden to us, and we perceive things anew, our biases shifting a bit. Then we say, "I changed my mind."

Therefore, it is important to give benefit of a doubt to others' opinions, if we are to remain sane and forge ahead as a community/country. Yes, their opinions may differ from ours, but they may change their minds. And so may we.

-------------------

This 'I' we feel so confident about isn't something beyond and separate from the mind, controlling it, but rather something inside the mind, and arising from it.

Love, parenthood, the death of those close to us: such matters reorient our lives, and often make us change our minds. Is it merely that the facts have changed? No, it's more that areas of fact and feeling hitherto unknown to us have suddenly become clear, that the emotional landscape has altered.

'to decimate' = to kill 1/10 of the enemies. It's not "to destroy completely," as we understand and use it these days.

Georges Simenon
Ford Madox Ford
E.M. Forster

And the pleasure of being proved wrong can be a genuine pleasure.

And it is this prose side which wants time to roll on in its usual way, if not indeed faster, because it is only time that will confirm this love to be real and substantial rather than a passing delusion. The suspension of time might identify love, but the active presence of time is necessary to verify it.

[Maria João (A Biblioteca da João) · Rating 4 out of 5]

Esta foi a minha estreia com o escritor Julian Barnes e, confesso, ia um pouco a medo da escrita que iria encontrar. Fui agradavelmente surpreendida, por uma narrativa simples e directa, com um toque de humor inesperado e imensos exemplos a retratar as ideias apresentadas.

Julian Barnes defende, neste pequeno livro de não ficção, que é legítimo mudar de ideias. Dividido em cinco capítulos, aborda este ideia de cinco perspectivas diferentes, todas elas interessantes e que deixam o leitor a pensar.

A memória, o quanto ela nos pode induzir em erros, por omissões ou confusões com a realidade, fazendo-nos criar certezas por vezes assentes em memórias falsas. As palavras (o meu capítulo preferido) e o seu sentido. A forma com a palavra evolui ao longo dos tempos, acabando por representar uma ideia oposta à da sua origem. A política, e o quanto as ideias políticas podem divergir, quer no eleitor, quer nos próprios partidos, dependendo de quem os lidera. Os livros e o quanto o passar do tempo e a experiência individual condicionam a leitura. E, por fim, a idade e o tempo. Porque de facto, a idade trás consigo conhecimento e sabedoria, que se pode traduzir numa mudança de ideias.

Gostei muito desta leitura, muito mais do que estava a pensar inicialmente. Agradável de ler, curiosa no conteúdo e um ponto de partida para reflexão sobre este tema de mudar de ideias!

E deixou-me cheia de vontade de ler um romance do autor!

Opinião mais detalhada em video:
https://abibliotecadajoao.blogspot.co...

[Esteban ⚯͛ · Rating 3 out of 5]

He cambiado muchas veces de opinión, y estoy tranquilo. Últimamente, bastante, de hecho. Si no lo hubiera hecho, debería preocuparme ❤️‍🩹

Un enfoque sobre los cambios de opinión basándose en temáticas como los recuerdos, las palabras, la política, los libros, la edad o el tiempo. Se lee bastante rápido. No me ha cambiado la vida, no será mi lectura TOP de 2026, pero me ha hecho reflexionar un par de veces. Y no es poco.