Hélène Cixous is a Jewish-French, Algerian-born feminist well-known as one of the founders of poststructuralist feminist theory along with Luce Irigaray and Julia Kristeva. She is now a professor of English Literature at University of Paris VIII and chairs the Centre de Recherches en Etudes Féminines which she founded in 1974.
She has published numerous essays, playwrights, novels, poems, and literary criticism. Her academic works concern subjects of feminism, the human body, history, death, and theatre.
This book is like a personal purging of her own angst on paper. You can get a bit nauseous if you read too fast too long. Issues with the mother and things like that. But I love the pace and quick wit of it, and the many associations. You feel like youre actually listening to someones thoughts when you read a book like this. It takes an extraordinary writer to be able to capture all of those things that go through your head in some kind of rational order while maintaining the pace.
Very difficult. Maybe the Covid-19 atmosphere, and being an OLD reader of 79 years, isn't the best atmosphere and state of mind! Also, echoing another review, you just cannot sit down and read all the way through. BEST definitely in bites, possibly "snacks" but not full four-course (219pp) meal. There is NO dessert except the interesting style. Too depressing. Her style, which I'm trusting is perfectly and well-shown-off by the translator Jo Levy. I got a few writing ideas...not content but style ... from reading this. Images, staccato rhythm sometimes, I admit, I didn't read carefully the last half...just got tired, and was unable to find another book to pick up instead. WHAT I LIKED: Short declarative sentences • The use of second person (you, your, yours) along with first person. The POV is always personal, I guess you'd say first person, but it's as if Cixous addresses herself as another self. The book is a very strange love story, and I felt sorry for the man upon whom the character depended. Just a little sample..." His face. He had a black patch over one eye. I think it was the left eye. An old pain prevents me from going into details. Perhaps I only spoke to avoid looking him in the face. And yet I did look at him. Will you always be there? His correct tone, with no kindness in it: –– That's up to you. " ~ Linda Campbell Franklin
Partially read, the prose is fast-paced so I found it hard to stay in tune with it. Beautifully written. Cixous poetically expresses her inner turmoil; her wants, fears and anxieties.
wow okay this is a lot. so intense, violent, and yes, angsty. i'll be honest- i skim read the last 100 pages, not because i wasn't finding value in this, but because the intensity of the text, along with cixous' abstract allegorical writing, was just too much for me at this current time. which is saying a lot, because i love intense themes and abstract writing. maybe if my brain wasn't absolutely fried with school atm i would've fared better with this. still a 4-star read though; cixous so perfectly describes what it means to be a woman existing in the modern world, what it means to suffer as a woman, and whether existence and suffering are one and the same. guaranteed to cause an existential crisis, if you can figure out what the hell is going on.
i did not understand what was going on much of the time while i was reading this, but when i did understand, i feel like i understood deeply. the prose is of a style that necessitates thinking, so i could only read about 10 pages a day so i would have enough time to think on the text before moving forward. sometimes i would get it in a way that i couldn’t articulate and other times articulation is what got me to understanding it. i like any book that requires me to think some because it usually means i’m engaged with it the whole way through and never passively consuming it. that’s why i give it five stars, even though i don’t think i’d want to read it again. at least not for a while
Oof, had to DNF. Read about half of the book, could barely discern what was happening. TBF, it wasn't a traditional narrative; more of a stream-of-consciousness from within a dark dream, that sort of flits from idea to idea, person to person. All of this combined to make it a very challenging read. It was more a screed. It may have been layered, it may have a feminist bent to it, I just couldn't get past the writing to see it. Just not for me.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.