What do you think?
Rate this book
London Observed
Published in America as The Real Thing: Stories and Sketches.
Across eighteen short stories, Lessing dissects London and its inhabitants with the power for truth and compassion to be expected of the Nobel Prize for Literature 2007.
'During that first year in England, I had a vision of London I cannot recall now … it was a nightmare city that I lived in for a year. Then, one evening, walking across the park, the light welded buildings, trees and scarlet buses into something familiar and beautiful, and I knew myself to be at home.'
Lessing’s vision of London – a place of nightmares and wonder – underpins this brilliantly multifaceted collection of stories about the city, seen from a cafe table, a hospital bed, the back seat of a taxi, a hospital casualty department; seen, as always, unflinchingly, and compellingly depicted.
Across eighteen short stories, Lessing dissects London and its inhabitants with the power for truth and compassion to be expected of the Nobel Prize for Literature 2007.
'During that first year in England, I had a vision of London I cannot recall now … it was a nightmare city that I lived in for a year. Then, one evening, walking across the park, the light welded buildings, trees and scarlet buses into something familiar and beautiful, and I knew myself to be at home.'
Lessing’s vision of London – a place of nightmares and wonder – underpins this brilliantly multifaceted collection of stories about the city, seen from a cafe table, a hospital bed, the back seat of a taxi, a hospital casualty department; seen, as always, unflinchingly, and compellingly depicted.
214 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1991
54 people are currently reading
499 people want to read
About the author
Doris Lessing
474 books3,179 followersDoris Lessing was born into a colonial family. both of her parents were British: her father, who had been crippled in World War I, was a clerk in the Imperial Bank of Persia; her mother had been a nurse. In 1925, lured by the promise of getting rich through maize farming, the family moved to the British colony in Southern Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe). Like other women writers from southern African who did not graduate from high school (such as Olive Schreiner and Nadine Gordimer), Lessing made herself into a self-educated intellectual.
In 1937 she moved to Salisbury, where she worked as a telephone operator for a year. At nineteen, she married Frank Wisdom, and later had two children. A few years later, feeling trapped in a persona that she feared would destroy her, she left her family, remaining in Salisbury. Soon she was drawn to the like-minded members of the Left Book Club, a group of Communists "who read everything, and who did not think it remarkable to read." Gottfried Lessing was a central member of the group; shortly after she joined, they married and had a son.
During the postwar years, Lessing became increasingly disillusioned with the Communist movement, which she left altogether in 1954. By 1949, Lessing had moved to London with her young son. That year, she also published her first novel, The Grass Is Singing, and began her career as a professional writer.
In June 1995 she received an Honorary Degree from Harvard University. Also in 1995, she visited South Africa to see her daughter and grandchildren, and to promote her autobiography. It was her first visit since being forcibly removed in 1956 for her political views. Ironically, she is welcomed now as a writer acclaimed for the very topics for which she was banished 40 years ago.
In 2001 she was awarded the Prince of Asturias Prize in Literature, one of Spain's most important distinctions, for her brilliant literary works in defense of freedom and Third World causes. She also received the David Cohen British Literature Prize.
She was on the shortlist for the first Man Booker International Prize in 2005. In 2007 she was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature.
(Extracted from the pamphlet: A Reader's Guide to The Golden Notebook & Under My Skin, HarperPerennial, 1995. Full text available on www.dorislessing.org).
In 1937 she moved to Salisbury, where she worked as a telephone operator for a year. At nineteen, she married Frank Wisdom, and later had two children. A few years later, feeling trapped in a persona that she feared would destroy her, she left her family, remaining in Salisbury. Soon she was drawn to the like-minded members of the Left Book Club, a group of Communists "who read everything, and who did not think it remarkable to read." Gottfried Lessing was a central member of the group; shortly after she joined, they married and had a son.
During the postwar years, Lessing became increasingly disillusioned with the Communist movement, which she left altogether in 1954. By 1949, Lessing had moved to London with her young son. That year, she also published her first novel, The Grass Is Singing, and began her career as a professional writer.
In June 1995 she received an Honorary Degree from Harvard University. Also in 1995, she visited South Africa to see her daughter and grandchildren, and to promote her autobiography. It was her first visit since being forcibly removed in 1956 for her political views. Ironically, she is welcomed now as a writer acclaimed for the very topics for which she was banished 40 years ago.
In 2001 she was awarded the Prince of Asturias Prize in Literature, one of Spain's most important distinctions, for her brilliant literary works in defense of freedom and Third World causes. She also received the David Cohen British Literature Prize.
She was on the shortlist for the first Man Booker International Prize in 2005. In 2007 she was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature.
(Extracted from the pamphlet: A Reader's Guide to The Golden Notebook & Under My Skin, HarperPerennial, 1995. Full text available on www.dorislessing.org).
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 69 reviews
November 13, 2023
Eighteen short stories about the lives of people living in London. The stories explore the relationships of men and women with an emphasis on the courage, endurance and determination of women.
Debbie and Julie starts with the resilience of a young woman having a baby by herself and the ensuring it is safe. Sparrows is an anthropomorphic story of a baby sparrow leaving the nest and becoming independent with a woman feeding it thinking of her daughter.
The Pit where an elderly woman meets her remarried husband who wants to have an affair with her with his new wife’s knowledge. She realizes although she wants to it would eventually be disastrous and escapes. The Real Thing shows for me the reality of divorced couples trying to remain friends for the children’s sake. Jody an American woman realizes if she marries Henry his ex wife will always be part of their lives.
All the stories were snapshots of life in London in the late 1980s with good characterizations and the facade we build around relationships.
Debbie and Julie starts with the resilience of a young woman having a baby by herself and the ensuring it is safe. Sparrows is an anthropomorphic story of a baby sparrow leaving the nest and becoming independent with a woman feeding it thinking of her daughter.
The Pit where an elderly woman meets her remarried husband who wants to have an affair with her with his new wife’s knowledge. She realizes although she wants to it would eventually be disastrous and escapes. The Real Thing shows for me the reality of divorced couples trying to remain friends for the children’s sake. Jody an American woman realizes if she marries Henry his ex wife will always be part of their lives.
All the stories were snapshots of life in London in the late 1980s with good characterizations and the facade we build around relationships.
June 24, 2017
I bailed on this book. It was depression by and not at all what I want to read about London. This is the dirty, gritty London. Not for this girl.
September 15, 2023
Niente di straordinario, anzi questi racconti (salvo il primo, che è molto particolare) si leggono e subito si dimenticano. Ma il vero soggetto del libro è l'amore che nutre l'autrice per Londra e per il quartiere dove vive, Hampstead, e quello si ricorda, con simpatia.
December 12, 2016
https://chronicbibliophilia.wordpress...
The short stories collected in Doris Lessing’s “The Real Thing” are stories of dismay and despair. Lessing’s writing is exquisite, full of intimate detail and vibrance that overcomes one of short fiction’s greatest challenges – fleshing out character in short shrift. Each character’s failings and foibles are heartrending and yet easy to identify with, familiar. These are the heartaches of everyday life.
“An elderly man stood with his face to the wire of the bird enclosure. Everything about him was yellowish and dry, like a fungus on an old log, but even his back was full of the vitality of indignation. In the enclosure live flamingos and demoiselle cranes, but he was looking at a fowl, a chicken, a rooster like a sunset in the act of exploding, all iridescent black, gold and scarlet, a resplendent cock who sat on a shiny log raising its wings and crowing, a triumphal shout. ‘You shut up,’ threatened the man through the wire.”
Lessing’s fully-fleshed, recognizable characters make reading her stories like being a fly on the wall at the darkest of cocktail parties. Her writing is also eerily timeless. Despite providing details that could date her work and which could trap a lesser writer into a small window of relevance, Lessing’s underlying themes, as well as her social commentary, are surprisingly resonant 30 years after publication. For example, it seems Lessing saw Brexit coming decades ahead of time:
“Is that what people mean when they complain the Underground is so untidy? It is the xenophobia of the British again? Rather, the older generations of the British. Is what I enjoy about London, its variety, its populations from everywhere in the world, its transitoriness – for sometimes London can give you the same feeling as when you stand to watch cloud shadows chase across a plain – exactly what they so hate?”
All told, “The Real Thing” is exactly that – a bite-sized taste of a writer with masterful wit, acute detail, and enduring commentary.
The short stories collected in Doris Lessing’s “The Real Thing” are stories of dismay and despair. Lessing’s writing is exquisite, full of intimate detail and vibrance that overcomes one of short fiction’s greatest challenges – fleshing out character in short shrift. Each character’s failings and foibles are heartrending and yet easy to identify with, familiar. These are the heartaches of everyday life.
“An elderly man stood with his face to the wire of the bird enclosure. Everything about him was yellowish and dry, like a fungus on an old log, but even his back was full of the vitality of indignation. In the enclosure live flamingos and demoiselle cranes, but he was looking at a fowl, a chicken, a rooster like a sunset in the act of exploding, all iridescent black, gold and scarlet, a resplendent cock who sat on a shiny log raising its wings and crowing, a triumphal shout. ‘You shut up,’ threatened the man through the wire.”
Lessing’s fully-fleshed, recognizable characters make reading her stories like being a fly on the wall at the darkest of cocktail parties. Her writing is also eerily timeless. Despite providing details that could date her work and which could trap a lesser writer into a small window of relevance, Lessing’s underlying themes, as well as her social commentary, are surprisingly resonant 30 years after publication. For example, it seems Lessing saw Brexit coming decades ahead of time:
“Is that what people mean when they complain the Underground is so untidy? It is the xenophobia of the British again? Rather, the older generations of the British. Is what I enjoy about London, its variety, its populations from everywhere in the world, its transitoriness – for sometimes London can give you the same feeling as when you stand to watch cloud shadows chase across a plain – exactly what they so hate?”
All told, “The Real Thing” is exactly that – a bite-sized taste of a writer with masterful wit, acute detail, and enduring commentary.
August 2, 2010
I'm very sad to say that this was a big disappointment. I guess I had too high expectations but then again, who can blame me? It's a London-based (one of my big passions) book containing short stories written by a well-known contemporary female Nobel Prize winner. Why yes, I was excited.
The first story, 'Debbie and Julie', and the story 'In Defence Of The Underground' are the only stories that I actually enjoyed and the only reason why I'm giving this two stars instead of one. The main reason being the imagery of the first one (a young girl giving birth underneath a shelter with the company of a homeless and hungry dog, on a cold rainy London night) and the description and the praise of the London underground in the latter.
I found the rest to be to boring and simple - kind of like listening to mindless chatter on a family reunion or sitting through a tiring lecture. Sure, there was drama, some stories even had a twist, some even made me smile (especially the one at the Casualty department in a hospital because oh, how I've seen that scene so many, many times) and Lessing sure knows her way around beautiful language but it wasn't enough. It didn't deliver. I wanted more. I wanted it to be as if each story in this book was a passionately written love letter to London and its streets, people, bridges, shops, umbrellas, and all that comes with it. Perhaps however this is what Lessing saw. Or perhaps I didn't read it to carefully or maybe I'm just being hopelessly romantic.
If you're a people person who likes to observe people in cities; then you will like this. If you want a book where you can feel yourself roaming around the streets in London and observe the buildings around you; then this is not for you.
The first story, 'Debbie and Julie', and the story 'In Defence Of The Underground' are the only stories that I actually enjoyed and the only reason why I'm giving this two stars instead of one. The main reason being the imagery of the first one (a young girl giving birth underneath a shelter with the company of a homeless and hungry dog, on a cold rainy London night) and the description and the praise of the London underground in the latter.
I found the rest to be to boring and simple - kind of like listening to mindless chatter on a family reunion or sitting through a tiring lecture. Sure, there was drama, some stories even had a twist, some even made me smile (especially the one at the Casualty department in a hospital because oh, how I've seen that scene so many, many times) and Lessing sure knows her way around beautiful language but it wasn't enough. It didn't deliver. I wanted more. I wanted it to be as if each story in this book was a passionately written love letter to London and its streets, people, bridges, shops, umbrellas, and all that comes with it. Perhaps however this is what Lessing saw. Or perhaps I didn't read it to carefully or maybe I'm just being hopelessly romantic.
If you're a people person who likes to observe people in cities; then you will like this. If you want a book where you can feel yourself roaming around the streets in London and observe the buildings around you; then this is not for you.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
February 22, 2012
Io amo Londra. Amo tutto ciò che parla di Londra, che è impregnato dei suoi odori e dei suoi sapori, che ne tesse le lodi in maniera incondizionata, che fa rivivere in me le mille facce e i mille imprevedibili risvolti di una città e dei suoi deliziosi abitanti.
Ergo, il mio cuore piange convulsamente nel realizzare che ho appena associato un giudizio terribilmente negativo (ovvero due, miserrime stelline) al nome di tale città.
Doris Lessing ed io non siamo decisamente partite con il piede giusto. Avevo deciso, in un periodo della mia vita tremendamente triste e affannoso, di ritrovare quel po' di giusto sollievo di cui avevo bisogno nelle pagine di un libro che parlasse di un mio grande amore, di una mia storica passione, di un libro che mi regalasse brio e felicità, che mi desse l'ultima spinta, quella indispensabile, per convincermi a gettarmi a capofitto tra la folla schiamazzante di Picadilly Circus, tra gli umidi ciuffi d'erba di Hyde Park, tra gli stands di Portobello Market.
E invece no. Le mie speranze sono andate a farsi benedire, tutte quante, ben disposte in file ordinate e rispettose, il capo chino, l'aria vagamente rassegnata, un groppo in gola e un mostro fatto di rabbia e indignazione che si agitava nel loro stomaco, pronto ad esplodere, ma mai davvero troppo carico per farlo.
Ho rimuginato più e più giorni su questo libello, su questa carrellata di racconti che con Londra avevano ben poco a che vedere, ho tentato di guardare la vicenda sotto altri punti di vista, senza mai riuscire, tuttavia, ad assumere un atteggiamento che non fosse così estremista, così terribilmente radicale.
Perché, è bene spiattellare subito la verità, così, nella sua essenza nuda e cruda, questi Racconti Londinesi non hanno assolutamente niente a che fare con la città alla quale vorrebbero ispirarsi, e né Londra ha nulla a che vedere con loro.
Qualche vaga allusione, qualche piatto riferimento alle bellezze della metropolitana e all'erba bagnata di Kenwood, non compensano affatto il senso di insoddisfazione che ho ricavato da dieci, lunghissimi giorni trascorsi in compagnia di questo libro (ehi, nel frattempo sono comunque riuscita a infilarci Jonathan Coe e Elisabetta I, mica male, no?).
Sono certa che gli obiettivi cui mirava Doris Lessing non avrebbero dovuto fruttare questa sensazione di delusione che, stando a recensioni intraviste qua e là per la rete, avrebbe fatto di molte altre persone vittime tristi e avvilite. Il che mi porta alla lampante conclusione che in questi Racconti ci sia davvero qualcosa di sbagliato, qualcosa che non ha funzionato come avrebbe dovuto, o che ha funzionato nel modo previsto e progettato da Doris Lessing, non soddisfacendo, tuttavia, le aspettative di un considerevole numero di lettori.
Ed è Londra ciò che manca. Avrei accettato (ma certamente non amato) una sua presenza puramente decorativa, come un elemento posto sul fondale di un palcoscenico, silenzioso, quasi inavvertibile, eppure presente. E invece ho detestato la sua assenza; mi sono intestardita, sono andata alla ricerca di una sua ombra, per poi ritrovarmi a stringere tra le mani un inconsistente cumulo d'aria, un nulla di fatto.
Avevo bisogno che Doris permeasse la mia stanza di quell'umido olezzo che aleggia perennemente nelle strade londinesi, che aprisse la finestra di Leicester Square e che vi ci si affacciasse briosa, invitandomi ad unirmi a lei, che percorresse le strade acciottolate di Covent Garden, si accoccolasse tra gli spettatori del solito gioco di prestigio e si facesse catturare dalla magia degli artisti di strada, che scivolasse all'interno di una capsula della London Eye e scalasse il grigiore dei cieli londinesi, che galleggiasse tra un ponte e l'altro del Tamigi, che indugiasse in prossimità del Traitor's Gate, fantasticando sulla leggendaria figura di Anna Bolena e su quella testa che, incorniciata da lunghi capelli corvini, più volte rotolò sul prato della Torre di Londra.
Queste e tante altre erano le tenere illusioni che nutrivano il mio cuore prima di immergermi nella lettura, queste erano le mie aspettative, queste erano le mie speranze che, ahimè, Doris ha voluto disilludere.
Ma, dopotutto, pittori, poeti e romanzieri di ogni tempo e di ogni dove hanno tentato di immortalare quel non so che di fascinoso e misterioso che avvolge Londra in una stretta quasi soffocante, alle volte nelle vibranti linee di un dipinto, altre nelle fluide parole della prosa... e, probabilmente, facendo fiasco il più delle volte.
Londra è troppo grande per noi, per la nostra mente, e il nostro piccolo mondo non riuscirà mai ad afferrare e ad accogliere tutta la sua incredibile vastità.
Ergo, il mio cuore piange convulsamente nel realizzare che ho appena associato un giudizio terribilmente negativo (ovvero due, miserrime stelline) al nome di tale città.
Doris Lessing ed io non siamo decisamente partite con il piede giusto. Avevo deciso, in un periodo della mia vita tremendamente triste e affannoso, di ritrovare quel po' di giusto sollievo di cui avevo bisogno nelle pagine di un libro che parlasse di un mio grande amore, di una mia storica passione, di un libro che mi regalasse brio e felicità, che mi desse l'ultima spinta, quella indispensabile, per convincermi a gettarmi a capofitto tra la folla schiamazzante di Picadilly Circus, tra gli umidi ciuffi d'erba di Hyde Park, tra gli stands di Portobello Market.
E invece no. Le mie speranze sono andate a farsi benedire, tutte quante, ben disposte in file ordinate e rispettose, il capo chino, l'aria vagamente rassegnata, un groppo in gola e un mostro fatto di rabbia e indignazione che si agitava nel loro stomaco, pronto ad esplodere, ma mai davvero troppo carico per farlo.
Ho rimuginato più e più giorni su questo libello, su questa carrellata di racconti che con Londra avevano ben poco a che vedere, ho tentato di guardare la vicenda sotto altri punti di vista, senza mai riuscire, tuttavia, ad assumere un atteggiamento che non fosse così estremista, così terribilmente radicale.
Perché, è bene spiattellare subito la verità, così, nella sua essenza nuda e cruda, questi Racconti Londinesi non hanno assolutamente niente a che fare con la città alla quale vorrebbero ispirarsi, e né Londra ha nulla a che vedere con loro.
Qualche vaga allusione, qualche piatto riferimento alle bellezze della metropolitana e all'erba bagnata di Kenwood, non compensano affatto il senso di insoddisfazione che ho ricavato da dieci, lunghissimi giorni trascorsi in compagnia di questo libro (ehi, nel frattempo sono comunque riuscita a infilarci Jonathan Coe e Elisabetta I, mica male, no?).
Sono certa che gli obiettivi cui mirava Doris Lessing non avrebbero dovuto fruttare questa sensazione di delusione che, stando a recensioni intraviste qua e là per la rete, avrebbe fatto di molte altre persone vittime tristi e avvilite. Il che mi porta alla lampante conclusione che in questi Racconti ci sia davvero qualcosa di sbagliato, qualcosa che non ha funzionato come avrebbe dovuto, o che ha funzionato nel modo previsto e progettato da Doris Lessing, non soddisfacendo, tuttavia, le aspettative di un considerevole numero di lettori.
Ed è Londra ciò che manca. Avrei accettato (ma certamente non amato) una sua presenza puramente decorativa, come un elemento posto sul fondale di un palcoscenico, silenzioso, quasi inavvertibile, eppure presente. E invece ho detestato la sua assenza; mi sono intestardita, sono andata alla ricerca di una sua ombra, per poi ritrovarmi a stringere tra le mani un inconsistente cumulo d'aria, un nulla di fatto.
Avevo bisogno che Doris permeasse la mia stanza di quell'umido olezzo che aleggia perennemente nelle strade londinesi, che aprisse la finestra di Leicester Square e che vi ci si affacciasse briosa, invitandomi ad unirmi a lei, che percorresse le strade acciottolate di Covent Garden, si accoccolasse tra gli spettatori del solito gioco di prestigio e si facesse catturare dalla magia degli artisti di strada, che scivolasse all'interno di una capsula della London Eye e scalasse il grigiore dei cieli londinesi, che galleggiasse tra un ponte e l'altro del Tamigi, che indugiasse in prossimità del Traitor's Gate, fantasticando sulla leggendaria figura di Anna Bolena e su quella testa che, incorniciata da lunghi capelli corvini, più volte rotolò sul prato della Torre di Londra.
Queste e tante altre erano le tenere illusioni che nutrivano il mio cuore prima di immergermi nella lettura, queste erano le mie aspettative, queste erano le mie speranze che, ahimè, Doris ha voluto disilludere.
Ma, dopotutto, pittori, poeti e romanzieri di ogni tempo e di ogni dove hanno tentato di immortalare quel non so che di fascinoso e misterioso che avvolge Londra in una stretta quasi soffocante, alle volte nelle vibranti linee di un dipinto, altre nelle fluide parole della prosa... e, probabilmente, facendo fiasco il più delle volte.
Londra è troppo grande per noi, per la nostra mente, e il nostro piccolo mondo non riuscirà mai ad afferrare e ad accogliere tutta la sua incredibile vastità.
December 31, 2015
An interesting collection of short stories, mostly focusing on the experiences of women and their growth and emotions. Some of the stories resonated with me more than others -- the unwed teen mother, the older spinster in the "womb ward", the divorced woman who faced being drawn back into a relationship with her remarried ex-husband. Most of these women pay some sort of price for their decisions to be independent and individual, rather than a part of the go-along-to-get-along world that we live in. But none of those are unrealistic. The one story that stands out, though, is the woman in the small car facing off with the man in the van in a street too narrow for them to pass, neither giving way, and forcing miles of traffic to back up and maneuver and reroute around them. Sometimes the price paid for asserting one's independence is paid more heavily by others.
October 11, 2022
It’s taken almost 2 months for me to ready 214 pages. I was… so bored. Never wanted to pick the book up. Maybe a story or two held my interest, but the rest (especially the “sketches”) probably could have stayed drafts. Lessing won the Nobel prize fifteen years ago, and I’ll definitely try one of her more well-known works, but this was not for me.
December 18, 2025
ya bi sg benimde mi kocam exiyle beni aldatsin
September 7, 2022
C'est avec ce recueil de nouvelles, lu en version originale (anglais), que j'ai découvert la fiction de Doris Lessing. Le livre aux pages jaunis se trouvait dans ma bibliothèque par je ne sais quel moyen puisque je n'ai aucun souvenir d'avoir acheté ce livre. Et pourtant, en voici un qui valait vraiment la peine d'être lu.
On m'avait dit que les fictions de Doris Lessing étaient intéressantes. Je venais de lire quelques 2 000 pages d'autobiographie plus ou moins avouée et plus ou moins convaincante.
Ce recueil commence avec "Debbie and Julie" une histoire "coup de poing" qui m'a tout de suite happée. Les nouvelles ne sont pas toutes de cette intensité mais elles sont bien écrites et nous transportent dans l'univers de différents personnages féminins aux prises avec des situations parfois scabreuses comme celui de la nouvelle qui porte de titre du recueil, "The real thing". Cette lecture m'a réconciliée avec l'auteure.
On m'avait dit que les fictions de Doris Lessing étaient intéressantes. Je venais de lire quelques 2 000 pages d'autobiographie plus ou moins avouée et plus ou moins convaincante.
Ce recueil commence avec "Debbie and Julie" une histoire "coup de poing" qui m'a tout de suite happée. Les nouvelles ne sont pas toutes de cette intensité mais elles sont bien écrites et nous transportent dans l'univers de différents personnages féminins aux prises avec des situations parfois scabreuses comme celui de la nouvelle qui porte de titre du recueil, "The real thing". Cette lecture m'a réconciliée avec l'auteure.
August 4, 2015
I was hoping for a slightly more cohesive set of texts. I love Dubliners and other such collections that come together to be something greater than the sum of their parts, that construct narrative juxtapositions, frissons, coincidental overlapping, etc. Not much of that here. Seemed rather merely random texts collected out of Lessing's notebooks that all happened to either focus on or merely happen in London having to do with various types of Londoners. The characters might be the best linking motif of the texts--the collection certainly does better than, say, Woody Allen's presentation of New York City in that wealthy, middle-class, and poor, White, East Indian, and African, young and old, men and women, are all included.
That said, expectations aside, the stories/sketches are, aesthetically-speaking, up and down: a couple were really great, many good, and a few I could have lived without--but none really bad. This was my first Lessing (just happened to find it in a thrift store for cheap) and I will certainly read more--been wanting to read The Golden Notebook for some time.
My favorite here was the offbeat, non-narrative "In Defense of the Tube." I'm working on a similar story for San Francisco right now called "22", about the 22 Fillmore bus as its path slashes a very interesting cross-section of this city, sections that are historically important and personally relevant as well. So, thanks for the inspiration, Doris!
That said, expectations aside, the stories/sketches are, aesthetically-speaking, up and down: a couple were really great, many good, and a few I could have lived without--but none really bad. This was my first Lessing (just happened to find it in a thrift store for cheap) and I will certainly read more--been wanting to read The Golden Notebook for some time.
My favorite here was the offbeat, non-narrative "In Defense of the Tube." I'm working on a similar story for San Francisco right now called "22", about the 22 Fillmore bus as its path slashes a very interesting cross-section of this city, sections that are historically important and personally relevant as well. So, thanks for the inspiration, Doris!
July 12, 2018
After months of meaning to, I finally sat down and read some Lessing. Captivating prose and multi-faceted characters abound, but what I really loved were the stories themselves, which explore moments in life that are quiet, disastrous, or subterranean, all the time spent calculating for the unknown, building up understanding from almost nothing. My favorite in this collection - which is well organized and propels itself forward - is “The Pit,” which almost entirely consists of the narrator’s imaginings of the future as she tells herself a story about her ex-husband’s new wife. There is nothing solid about the story, it is all conjecture, but it feels terribly real, and it’s a creative leap I don’t often see but tend to love when I do.
Occasional moments of gore and instances of narrative risk-taking are balanced by intense realism and practicality. I believed in the stories, even when their events dared me not to. The technical work of the writing, even in stories I didn’t love, left me awed. Next time I’m in a bookstore, I’ll be on the lookout for more of Lessing’s work.
Occasional moments of gore and instances of narrative risk-taking are balanced by intense realism and practicality. I believed in the stories, even when their events dared me not to. The technical work of the writing, even in stories I didn’t love, left me awed. Next time I’m in a bookstore, I’ll be on the lookout for more of Lessing’s work.
March 1, 2023
More than four stars really but not close enough to five.
The author’s style is unusual — not quite conversational but not quite literary either. I can’t decide if I like it or not. It is like she, the narrator, is there with her characters and either not playing a part or just a minor one. It’s not an omniscient point of view, and in some stories she asks questions that neither we, the readers, nor she, the author, knows the answers to.
What I do like about these stories, very much, is how observant they are of things seldom written about. Meeting at restaurants or outdoors, traveling in the underground, and especially, navigating the minefield of post-divorce relationships. It’s unusual but necessary that we, as cultural beings, take notice of these things.
The author’s style is unusual — not quite conversational but not quite literary either. I can’t decide if I like it or not. It is like she, the narrator, is there with her characters and either not playing a part or just a minor one. It’s not an omniscient point of view, and in some stories she asks questions that neither we, the readers, nor she, the author, knows the answers to.
What I do like about these stories, very much, is how observant they are of things seldom written about. Meeting at restaurants or outdoors, traveling in the underground, and especially, navigating the minefield of post-divorce relationships. It’s unusual but necessary that we, as cultural beings, take notice of these things.
November 27, 2020
I never read much collection of short stories and I have never read anything by Doris Lessing. I quite enjoyed it. "Debbie and Julie", the first story, blew my mind: it was perfect. I adored this with every bit of my soul and I would happily read an entire book about these girls. So, I was a bit disappointed when none of the stories that followed were as good. However, "Womb Ward", "What Price the Truth?" and "Among the Roses" were also very special. But I don't think the other were memorable.
Doris Lessing's writing is brilliant. I particularly enjoyed her dialogues and how she wrote orality. I will, for sure, read more from her.
Doris Lessing's writing is brilliant. I particularly enjoyed her dialogues and how she wrote orality. I will, for sure, read more from her.
January 2, 2021
"Racconti londinesi" di Doris Lessing
In treno, nelle sale d'attesa, bevendo un caffè al tavolino di un bar, i racconti sono una benedizione.
I "Racconti londinesi" sono diciotto racconti ambientati nei parchi, nei caffè, nella metropolitana, nelle strade di una metropoli dove tutto sembra uguale e dove in realtà tutto è profondamente diverso, complicato, difficile. La scrittura è elegante, apparentemente distaccata nell'intento di fotografare un universo di incontri e scontri, rapporti tormentati, comportamenti sociali e molto altro.
In treno, nelle sale d'attesa, bevendo un caffè al tavolino di un bar, i racconti sono una benedizione.
I "Racconti londinesi" sono diciotto racconti ambientati nei parchi, nei caffè, nella metropolitana, nelle strade di una metropoli dove tutto sembra uguale e dove in realtà tutto è profondamente diverso, complicato, difficile. La scrittura è elegante, apparentemente distaccata nell'intento di fotografare un universo di incontri e scontri, rapporti tormentati, comportamenti sociali e molto altro.
January 9, 2023
4⭐️ Closely observed scenes, rich with detail, taut dialog. Many are about the complexity of relationships between men and women, married, betrothed, divorced. Several are scathing portrayals of women who thrive on manipulation and deception. Others tell how a woman comes to dispel illusions and find strength to flee demeaning entanglements. The detached tone of the stories, their pace and voice, are consistently similar, with little poetry or warmth.
December 30, 2024
Me lo hanno regalato proprio perché due anni fa ho cominciato a scrivere brevi racconti....e mi è piaciuto, anche se non mi ha travolta, come a volte certi libri fanno con me!
Sono 18 racconti che si fanno leggere ,ma dopo due o tre ho sentito il bisogno di continuare un altro libro più avvincente..
Poi, pian piano, sera dopo sera, interruzione dopo interruzione,sono riuscita a godere di tutti e 13!
Per girls che vivono nella magica eclettica Londra... è consigliato!
Sono 18 racconti che si fanno leggere ,ma dopo due o tre ho sentito il bisogno di continuare un altro libro più avvincente..
Poi, pian piano, sera dopo sera, interruzione dopo interruzione,sono riuscita a godere di tutti e 13!
Per girls che vivono nella magica eclettica Londra... è consigliato!
November 15, 2020
A fly-on-the-wall collection of stories about the armour lives of Londoners. Lessing depicts characters from a variety of backgrounds generously and with a sharp eye. Some stories I preferred more than others, but loved this collection in creating a fragmented, detailed depiction of the multitude of people living their lives, connected by one city.
March 28, 2017
Read D.H.S.S only. A very short and simple story depicting the reality of begging in the streets of England.
February 6, 2019
I have this fantasy about London, highteen movies and dramas were what made me have such fantasies- elegant, graceful and beautiful London which is why I was drawn to this book. Never had I imagined that 18 short stories about London would be so depressing and dark. You know those black and white pictures with miserable looking people and melancholy vibes? That’s what I saw throughout the whole book, the author Doris Lessing sketches out traces and images of the people of London, he portrays their everyday life in a serene tone.
It felt like the setting "London" wasn’t what really mattered in the story because it could have been any other country’s name and still have the same story. It wouldn’t even be strange to say “Seoul Observed” or “Tokyo Observed” because it could be a story of anybody in any city, we don’t really have so different daily lives. Those trivial moments in your daily life when you know that your life is going on just as it always had, but you’re comfortable with the calmness edged inside your life – This book was all about those moments. There wasn’t a really special, extraordinary, exciting event, but I still didn’t find it boring.
Well okay, not most of the stories were calm, some stories were so sad and depressing, but still that’s the way life can be sometimes, you just have to endure it and let it go. Let bygones be bygones. There was a story of a student who bore a child by mistake and ran away from home, a story of a man who particularly liked the subway, a woman comforting another woman who cried in sorrow on the first night of her separation from her husband in a maternity ward, a story of adultery, a couple who sat in a cafe and had small talk, a story of two sisters talking about embarrassing crap in a public area. From beginning to end, it had the same mood and tone, if I were to compare it with music, I would say it was like a symphony that went on and on without sudden dramatical changes, yet somehow multifaceted, sad, calm and familiar.
If anybody’s looking for a light read, this wouldn’t be what you’re looking for. Because it makes you feel heavy, just blue with no specific reason, the writing style resonates sorrow. Some stories just made me heartbroken to see people suffering, worrying, accept their defeat with resignation. One of the most moodiest books I’ve ever read, but still I recommend it because one’s life cannot always be full of bright sunshine, you get into various situations and have to deal with them. Also, since we cannot avoid having relationships (we are not the only ones in this huge huge world we live in), we must face the consequences and happenings in human relationships.
It felt like the setting "London" wasn’t what really mattered in the story because it could have been any other country’s name and still have the same story. It wouldn’t even be strange to say “Seoul Observed” or “Tokyo Observed” because it could be a story of anybody in any city, we don’t really have so different daily lives. Those trivial moments in your daily life when you know that your life is going on just as it always had, but you’re comfortable with the calmness edged inside your life – This book was all about those moments. There wasn’t a really special, extraordinary, exciting event, but I still didn’t find it boring.
Well okay, not most of the stories were calm, some stories were so sad and depressing, but still that’s the way life can be sometimes, you just have to endure it and let it go. Let bygones be bygones. There was a story of a student who bore a child by mistake and ran away from home, a story of a man who particularly liked the subway, a woman comforting another woman who cried in sorrow on the first night of her separation from her husband in a maternity ward, a story of adultery, a couple who sat in a cafe and had small talk, a story of two sisters talking about embarrassing crap in a public area. From beginning to end, it had the same mood and tone, if I were to compare it with music, I would say it was like a symphony that went on and on without sudden dramatical changes, yet somehow multifaceted, sad, calm and familiar.
If anybody’s looking for a light read, this wouldn’t be what you’re looking for. Because it makes you feel heavy, just blue with no specific reason, the writing style resonates sorrow. Some stories just made me heartbroken to see people suffering, worrying, accept their defeat with resignation. One of the most moodiest books I’ve ever read, but still I recommend it because one’s life cannot always be full of bright sunshine, you get into various situations and have to deal with them. Also, since we cannot avoid having relationships (we are not the only ones in this huge huge world we live in), we must face the consequences and happenings in human relationships.
June 18, 2023
I enjoyed this essay and story collection, varied and free-floating observations, from a perceptive observer of human relations. Of the 18 pieces, some are substantial others slight but still with engaging elements. In a couple ('The Pit' and 'The Real Thing') I was reminded of her near-contemporary Iris Murdoch - I think the enjoyment of describing webs of intrigue in relationships, and a sense of shady pasts.
Whilst Lessing is perhaps more of a descriptive realist, Murdoch has more narrative edge. To an extent they gravitate to similar milieus, privileged and bohemian, though Lessing carries to an extent an intellectual left perspective, less apparent in Murdoch.
Overall I found this a worthwhile, mostly enjoyable, but short of essential read.
Whilst Lessing is perhaps more of a descriptive realist, Murdoch has more narrative edge. To an extent they gravitate to similar milieus, privileged and bohemian, though Lessing carries to an extent an intellectual left perspective, less apparent in Murdoch.
Overall I found this a worthwhile, mostly enjoyable, but short of essential read.
July 13, 2020
Una colección de unos veinte cuentos: los más cortos de cinco páginas, el más largo de cuarenta. Historias de parejas separadas que se reencuentran, de mujeres que sufren en silencio, de hombres que idealizan (es decir, no comprenden) a las mujeres. Por momentos parecen viñetas, tienen algo cinematográfico. Algunos cuentos más largos ofrecen mayor introspección en los personajes. La incapacidad/dificultad de los ingleses para expresar sus sentimientos es un tópico común. Me gustó mucho un cuento, "Pabellón de mujeres", sobre la noche que pasa una mujer en un hospital y el modo en que sus miedos terminan por revelar el caracter de sus acompañantes.
July 20, 2025
I love Lessing's writing but this one was not a favourite. In part because I don't like short stories, and I mistakenly thought that I'd enjoy hers as an exception. In part because some of these stories are descriptive of things I really don't care about in a book. The description of the park, the birds, the plants. I enjoyed those that focus on the personalities of the characters, of their doings, the first and the last, for example, and many in between. This is a collection that celebrates London, Englishness, in its beauty but mostly in its ugliness, very à la Lessing. Brutal honesty, I'd call it.
Read
October 23, 2025i’m by no means done with this book nor have i even got a copy on it. although i read two short stories by Lessing for a course i’m taking, and i’m amazed.
no wonder she got a nobel prize. as we were discussing “England vs England” in class i almost teared up. maybe i’m just pmsing.
once i get my hands on this book, i’ll breeze through it, i know. and you might argue it’s not very ethical to write a review on a book you haven’t finished, but god i could tell by just the two stories i’ve read how good Lessing is.
no wonder she got a nobel prize. as we were discussing “England vs England” in class i almost teared up. maybe i’m just pmsing.
once i get my hands on this book, i’ll breeze through it, i know. and you might argue it’s not very ethical to write a review on a book you haven’t finished, but god i could tell by just the two stories i’ve read how good Lessing is.
September 9, 2020
All of Doris Lessing's stories are interesting, but many are also intense beyond belief and still fiction. Her characters are real and facing a wide variety of challenges, some more disturbing than others but all plausible. Reading her writing in short stories reminds me of how much I've always liked her story telling in novels.
July 11, 2022
This book is almost 30 years old and I found it when I was helping cull my mothers extensive collection of books. I always think I’m going to like short stories but so often it seems there are a few gems but most are not that great. That was the case with this boon. It took me quite some time to get through them all.
April 11, 2022
Alcuni, soprattutto gli ultimi due e quello ospedaliero, sono superlativi per come scavano nelle contraddizioni dell'umanità. Altri sono più un piacevole chiacchiericcio interiore ispirato alla città, alla vivacità dei suoi abitanti, a quello che si vede, si sente, si deduce al tavolino di un bar.
December 22, 2017
Definitely a book for people watchers. Some sketches better than others, as expected. Sometimes you can tell the exact moment DL has gotten the work out of the way and begins to play.
April 11, 2019
I love Doris Lessing, but these felt pretty rote.
Read
July 17, 2019Collection of short stories. Doris Lessing just won the Nobel Prize for Literature so I thought I would read this.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 69 reviews