Seemingly irregular representation of fellings, drawn to the ocean of worldy estetics, says a very sad poem today, in the modern world. A dark and grim and most of the time stupid wish, for a better swim trough the forgivness. During this heavy book, I was led by a wild tought that sounds like this, first thing you need to do, to be a very well spoken person is to read a lot of Balzack and Dostoyevski. And write it all down.
The Lily of the Valley is a very interesting book. Nonetheless one of the most uplifting novels in the past few years. Only one or two, titles, I can put beside one like this. Girl with golden eyes and La Rabouilleuse. I see this novel, just like every other historical novel. Uphill strougle represented in it’s own fashion. An older man traped in a story that goes on for years, about such care and devotion to his own wife, missters, other friends. Being that the man is occupied in writing, view changes on every turn. Road to the other, just to make a life worth living.
Where does he finds the will to conquer everything he touches is a mystery to me. Looking trough a scope of a everyday man, I came across some trades, and not a single rule. Watching that misty trance makes the stories intriguing. I don’t want to mention, where it goes. We all know the circumstance., civil society. On the other hand a lot of misery spreads rots across the land. Misfortune on break of the day, before we close our eyes. Numbering pages of falls profits, equals in simple mathemathics. A subject of work, has too many names. Not to go too far, with a obvius storyline, the most important is to know thy self. Be moderat.
I need to reread it but one scene from it literally stuck into my mind. I remember it blurred since i read book years ago but it was scene including horses and reunity of love. Idk what about it but I guess its the way it was written. Even saw it in my dreams couple of times wondering why its so familiar and known to me