As always - suddenly I'm standing there without a book in the pocket. So naked. My current up to that point I have given more spontaneously, you really make someone happy. An addict needs
fabric, these are found in Frankfurt, while the book exhibition in a bookshop. Funny, as a bookseller to buy a book in a bookstore the other. This feeling is still really quite new. I discover this book, when painting on many book covers I have to take it. Why I do not know, but it captivated me from the start.
Until now, I still equal to the middle of reading and the second part the absence of open eyes (urgent sleep needs have pushed forward himself) then but in some tranches - piece by piece - to be read was forced to now so I can not say exactly what it is with the Lord Dasgupta, who came to me so suddenly between the reading finger.
The book reads just so beautiful there. Quiet, drifting further and further, we see the story of a man in the tenth decade of his life. A wealthy child in middle class circles of the early 20th Century. By the way we experience the history of Bulgaria (this reminds me a little of mazurka, the novel of Poland, which I read before about 100 years). Until the first half of the story is continuous, by this young man, who was driving again and the question aloud: "What is a failed life?", Here is one that is never followed his talent, and yet - there's no bitterness .
The second part represents a complete break, so brutal that I initially felt the need not read further. But the narrative form, with the language so well. After all. A completely different story is spreading, the presence, timeliness, immediacy. Why, then, Ulrich (the protagonist of the first part) suddenly turns up remains a mystery to me. I've probably not understood the meaning of the book. As if he would dream away in the second half. But in the end - and that keeps the novel together is the question: "What is a failed life?" Circumstances may excuse the impossibility of their own way? What about those who just want to survive?
Yes, but where I thought I had no words for this novel. Perhaps this explains it simply the East. And the people who live there. Maybe just living in a region that we do not know so well. Just life.