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What I Loved Siri Hustvedt 8601404259821 Books

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What I Loved Siri Hustvedt 8601404259821 Books

This is a story in three parts defined, in large measure, by various forms/stages of love and loss. It would tell too much to lay out the plot points of each part. The story is narrated by Leo, an art historian. Leo discovers a painting by Bill and the two become close friends...actually, those two words fail to encompass the deep connection and affection between the pair. Leo is married to Erica and there are two women in Bill's life, Lucille and Violet. These four characters and the families they form are the backbone of the story.

Although a few other key players do emerge, these four are all intensely/intimately connected and all are also, in various forms, artists. Art is, in fact, probably another main character and there are discussions about real artists and about fictional artistic works "by" the main characters. There's a good deal of discussion about art more broadly including the role of women & women's bodies* in art, the dichotomy of seeing & being seen, and the interplay between how art defines us & how we define art. Ultimately, however, while art matters deeply, this is a story about relationships and, more specifically, love. To use more paired descriptions, it is about what love does to us & what we do for it and also about what love cannot do & what love cannot save.

Overall -- I very much enjoyed the first two parts. I truly disliked the third part. this book is very literary and very concerned with what some might call "academic" matters. In truth, calling this book pretentious may understate the case; somehow, though, this didn't really turn me off, perhaps because it fit the characters. Overall, the language is quite beautiful. I'm torn between three-and-a-half and four stars and suppose this time I'm lucky many review sites don't allow for half-stars. The rating reflects the fact that my enjoyment of the language overall. Ultimately, it also reflect the fact that my interest in parts one & two overshadow my dislike for part three, especially since I've had a little time to remove myself from the immediacy of the concluding section.

Honestly, I can't tell you how long this one has been sitting on my "to read" shelf...well, I couldn't until I checked Amazon and saw I bought a used copy for a penny ($4 with shipping) on 12/7/11. I'm glad it finally surfaced. It calls for a reader who will admit to enjoying the literary and artistic. This reader is probably comfortable admitting to enjoying the pursuit of learning, a philosopher in the true sense of one who loves wisdom (and talking, or at least reading about it!)....okay, the ideal reader is used to hearing terms like "dork" and "nerd." It is, as I say above, pretentious and you need to accept that about the book and about the characters.

*Random Aside (more a personal experience given context by the book than a reaction to the text itself, though the word "reaction" is quite on point)...the review is done so feel free to stop, but leaving the rest (from my blog) for anyone who might be interested -- The book mentions women who used their bodies as art, "drawing" on their skin by scratching it lightly to make red marks appear. This caught the narrator off-guard a bit and sent me on a bit of a search. I remember many a doctor over the years running a dull edge along my skin and noticing that a red mark arose a few moments later. I can't recall any ever mentioning it though until this year when my dermatologist was looking at an intense allergic reaction. I didn't catch the word she used but offered to demonstrate on her own since she didn't want to irritate me further and as soon as she mentioned scratching her skin I responded by saying "and a red line appears."

Anyway, apparently the term is dermographism. Honestly, I don't know if there are degrees of severity, but it is nothing I've ever found really troublesome. But it surprised me to learn that only 4-5% of people have it. I knew it wasn't something that happened to everyone, but it was always my normal so I guess I assumed it was pretty common. It does explain a bit though....whenever something has been itching and I've inevitably given in and scratched. the area becomes very red and angry. Again, normal to me (and I assume anyone could irritate an already itchy area by scratching, but probably not to this extent) but sometimes concerned onlooker and I never understood why until I dug into it because of the book.

It is a really interesting condition and there are indeed people who've turned it into art. There are also a lot of people who go online looking for a cure (there isn't one though antihistamines can help) but it isn't something I feel any need to treat given other maladies. It has also made me think a lot about e we construct our concept of "normal" and how intensely personal that term truly is.


Tags : What I Loved [Siri Hustvedt] on Amazon.com. *FREE* shipping on qualifying offers. This is the story of two men who first become friends in 1970s New York, of the women in their lives, and of their sons,Siri Hustvedt,What I Loved,Hodder & Stoughton,0340682388,Modern fiction,Fiction

What I Loved Siri Hustvedt 8601404259821 Books Reviews

I bought this book offhandedly at the Oslo airport, thinking "It appears to be written by a Norwegian and it's been translated into English" (i.e., it was a pretty superficial choice from among limited options available, and of course even the reasons for my choice quickly turned out to be entirely wrong; I'd never heard of Siri Hustvedt, an American writing in English). I didn't put it down until I finished it on approach to Seattle-Tacoma airport. No sleep for me on that flight! Wow. I can't usefully add superlatives or insights to what the many other thoughtful and favorable reviewers have already written -- it is that good, and that provocative. But I am intrigued by a possibility unspoken in the book, and not mentioned by other reviews I've read (perhaps because this is difficult to mention without the need for a spoiler alerts) Is it just me, or does every other reader, too, wonder if the biological paternity of one of the children is other than what the narrator believes? It might explain a lot.
Without utilizing any literary tricks or implausible narrative twists, Siri Hustvedt has created, in her emotionally powerful and unforgettable "What I Loved", a novel that at its best captures the challenges and multiplicities of life. To reduce this book to any single descriptor- a romance, a thriller, a critique on the art world, an existential reflection on adulthood- would be doing a huge disservice to the rich and complex tapestry that Hustvedt has woven in this novel.
The novel focuses on young lovers Leo and Erica, art aficionadoes who befriend a rising young art star named Bill. As they each live their lives- marriage, children, tragedy- Leo provides the focal point around which all their successes and failures revolve. Bill's success in the art world brings praise and harsh criticism, allowing the author to comment on the fickle nature of the art world. Romance allows Hustvedt to write at her most poetic and eloquent. Unexpected loss allows her to write at her most gut wrenching. And just when the story seems to have settled onto a satisfying path, the narrative takes a natural but not expected turn, providing an element of suspense and anicipation that neatly manages to tie all the other ends together.
At this risk of reducing this book to an easy read that satisfies many readers, "What I Loved" manages to pack a lot into its 400 pages. Laughter, tears, contemplation, frustration- all of it written with style and intelligence. A definite must read.
I am always delighted to discover a book that makes me wonder how it is I hadn’t come across the author before, particularly where the book isn’t new and the author has been around for decades. I asked myself this repeatedly while reading What I Loved by Siri Hustvedt recently. (How have I missed her until now?) It’s a story about friendship, love, art, grief and deceit. But, while the plot is intriguing (indeed, the final third of the book is a page-turner), it’s the intelligence of What I Loved that impressed me. The narrator, Leo Hertzberg is a professor of art history and his close friend, Bill Weschler is an artist. Much of book is about art and I don’t think I have read another novel that so impeccably observes and describes art. I enjoyed What I Loved and will certainly read Hustvedt’s other works.
This is a story in three parts defined, in large measure, by various forms/stages of love and loss. It would tell too much to lay out the plot points of each part. The story is narrated by Leo, an art historian. Leo discovers a painting by Bill and the two become close friends...actually, those two words fail to encompass the deep connection and affection between the pair. Leo is married to Erica and there are two women in Bill's life, Lucille and Violet. These four characters and the families they form are the backbone of the story.

Although a few other key players do emerge, these four are all intensely/intimately connected and all are also, in various forms, artists. Art is, in fact, probably another main character and there are discussions about real artists and about fictional artistic works "by" the main characters. There's a good deal of discussion about art more broadly including the role of women & women's bodies* in art, the dichotomy of seeing & being seen, and the interplay between how art defines us & how we define art. Ultimately, however, while art matters deeply, this is a story about relationships and, more specifically, love. To use more paired descriptions, it is about what love does to us & what we do for it and also about what love cannot do & what love cannot save.

Overall -- I very much enjoyed the first two parts. I truly disliked the third part. this book is very literary and very concerned with what some might call "academic" matters. In truth, calling this book pretentious may understate the case; somehow, though, this didn't really turn me off, perhaps because it fit the characters. Overall, the language is quite beautiful. I'm torn between three-and-a-half and four stars and suppose this time I'm lucky many review sites don't allow for half-stars. The rating reflects the fact that my enjoyment of the language overall. Ultimately, it also reflect the fact that my interest in parts one & two overshadow my dislike for part three, especially since I've had a little time to remove myself from the immediacy of the concluding section.

Honestly, I can't tell you how long this one has been sitting on my "to read" shelf...well, I couldn't until I checked and saw I bought a used copy for a penny ($4 with shipping) on 12/7/11. I'm glad it finally surfaced. It calls for a reader who will admit to enjoying the literary and artistic. This reader is probably comfortable admitting to enjoying the pursuit of learning, a philosopher in the true sense of one who loves wisdom (and talking, or at least reading about it!)....okay, the ideal reader is used to hearing terms like "dork" and "nerd." It is, as I say above, pretentious and you need to accept that about the book and about the characters.

*Random Aside (more a personal experience given context by the book than a reaction to the text itself, though the word "reaction" is quite on point)...the review is done so feel free to stop, but leaving the rest (from my blog) for anyone who might be interested -- The book mentions women who used their bodies as art, "drawing" on their skin by scratching it lightly to make red marks appear. This caught the narrator off-guard a bit and sent me on a bit of a search. I remember many a doctor over the years running a dull edge along my skin and noticing that a red mark arose a few moments later. I can't recall any ever mentioning it though until this year when my dermatologist was looking at an intense allergic reaction. I didn't catch the word she used but offered to demonstrate on her own since she didn't want to irritate me further and as soon as she mentioned scratching her skin I responded by saying "and a red line appears."

Anyway, apparently the term is dermographism. Honestly, I don't know if there are degrees of severity, but it is nothing I've ever found really troublesome. But it surprised me to learn that only 4-5% of people have it. I knew it wasn't something that happened to everyone, but it was always my normal so I guess I assumed it was pretty common. It does explain a bit though....whenever something has been itching and I've inevitably given in and scratched. the area becomes very red and angry. Again, normal to me (and I assume anyone could irritate an already itchy area by scratching, but probably not to this extent) but sometimes concerned onlooker and I never understood why until I dug into it because of the book.

It is a really interesting condition and there are indeed people who've turned it into art. There are also a lot of people who go online looking for a cure (there isn't one though antihistamines can help) but it isn't something I feel any need to treat given other maladies. It has also made me think a lot about e we construct our concept of "normal" and how intensely personal that term truly is.