josh

It feels ridiculous to even think I could pass judgement such a book yet, for the first read no less. Indeed TSZ feels just like rich honey. Jeers, poems, tricks. This book is a dance of words and ideas, a dance over the human condition. Never to be taken literally. Other times it feels more like a mirror, drawing you to affirm your own values and life. At the stillest hour, what do you have?

Some external readings of Nietzsche is definitely needed. Deleuze's analysis is excellent. This is definitely not a book for “everyone” off the bat. 

A masterful thriller. It seduces you into falling into the same mindset as the protagonist, looking for meanings within repeating patterns, until a serious turn marks a decided disgust that renders the story in a new, horror-full light.

A seemingly endless flow of allegations, encountering series, study on sign and signifiers, compulsions of the subject and object (aka cosmos). 

I was ready to give this book 3-3.5 but the profound darkness it evokes is no easy feat, and I progressed to learn to enjoy it further and further into the story. 

A very smooth and enjoyable read. I enjoyed the dramatic story and the diverse cast of characters. I loved the message of the book and the love of life it exudes. The will of Evelyn is inspiring. I did not see the right of life part coming; I thought Monique would be her daughter somehow.

Some parts at times feel like exposition of modern values, which I felt were out of place. The book itself demonstrates the values perfectly fine without having to spell it out. Other times I disliked the tone of the book. First person in past sense sometimes feels monotonous and lacking in sensuality. Some of the plot elements I have seen in other media, which weakened their impacts. At the end I would have really liked to cry, but found myself unable to draw forth the emotion. 

I would still wholeheartedly recommend this book. It was a very enjoyable and utterly beautiful journey. 

    An excellent book that ignited my appreciation for biographical works. Bakewell was able to give an enthralling presentation of the philosophies and lives of many thinkers. History has never been a subject my brain is willing to engage with, yet through this book I felt connected with so many lives that no longer walk this earth. While they had ceased to experience the bloom of life, the world around them had come to life in my mind, through their eyes and through the words of Sarah Bakewell.    Bakewell was not afraid of using the first personal pronoun and relating her own thoughts and experiences. Impressively, this did not impede the light of “neutrality” shone on the biographees. Everything was presented such that you are invited to judge for yourself whatever opinions they held. You also leave the book with a dozens more on your to-read list.    Unfortunately I do not find the same impartiality with regard to the presentation of Communism in this otherwise exceptional book. Meticulously placed quotation marks, superficial degradation of Marxism as a mere “ideology”, portrayal of the biographees' communist involvement as simple mistakes, etc. Maybe this is an invariable crust imposed on the author by a modern neoliberal view of the world, one that we will dig through one day as the people under her pen have.