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The God of Small Things: A Novel af…
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The God of Small Things: A Novel (original 1997; udgave 2008)

af Arundhati Roy

MedlemmerAnmeldelserPopularitetGennemsnitlig vurderingOmtaler
17,214320207 (3.88)622
For en varm, humoristisk og fremsynet indisk familie ændres hele livsindholdet i løbet af få timer, da en engelsk kusine ankommer til det lille samfund i 1960'ernes politiske og alligevel sansemættede atmosfære.
Medlem:hbrealey
Titel:The God of Small Things: A Novel
Forfattere:Arundhati Roy
Info:Random House Trade Paperbacks (2008), Edition: Reprint, Paperback, 352 pages
Samlinger:Dit bibliotek
Vurdering:
Nøgleord:Ingen

Detaljer om værket

De små tings gud : roman af Arundhati Roy (1997)

Asia (65)
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» Se også 622 omtaler

Engelsk (286)  Spansk (7)  Tysk (6)  Hollandsk (5)  Fransk (5)  Italiensk (5)  Portugisisk (Brasilien) (1)  Catalansk (1)  Finsk (1)  Portugisisk (Portugal) (1)  Svensk (1)  Hebræisk (1)  Alle sprog (320)
Viser 1-5 af 320 (næste | vis alle)
Almost a 4 star book, but the disjointed time line was distracting and frankly confusing. Hard to figure out *when* things were happening and was this before or after the action we just read about. ( )
  curious_squid | Apr 5, 2021 |
The writing in this book is absolutely gorgeous. It's one of those that I read and am awed that anyone could string words together in such an amazing way.

I wanted to love the story as much as I loved the writing, but I think this one wasn't for me. I found the story to be quite desolate, most of the adults were horrible, and the kids were victims. The bit of incest at the end didn't improve my opinion of the story. ( )
  ssperson | Apr 3, 2021 |
It's interesting that Roy said in an interview that she'd never read Rushdie when compared to him. In retrospect that makes sense. I'd been struggling with "The Moors Last Sigh" when a friend from India gave me this book. I didn't pick it up for a few months and then fell into it, doing little else for days while I read it. At first I found that hard to believe, because she plays with language in ways that I thought Rushdie did, but later I could see that the way he works language is radically different than how she did -- and I think I read a critique somewhere offering evidence of that that I can't remember now.

This was a gorgeous book. I wept for a long time after reading it. I find it interesting that Roy said she doubted she would write another novel. She's a fascinating person, dedicated to the sorts of thinking about the world that I only give lip service to. She's amazing. Still, I'd love a second book, but I don't think she will. She's moved on to something different. ( )
  wickenden | Mar 8, 2021 |
It took me over two hundred pages for me to get into this 349-page book, but in the end, after I’d described her writing style to a friend by referencing Homer, I decided this book would probably stick with me for a long time. She writes with short sentences, occasionally resorting to single words and pointed paragraphs. Each character comes with an epithet or two (hence the comparison to Homer), “Elvis-pelvis” and “twin ambassadors,” for example. Paragraphs end in repetitive words or sounds. Meaningful phrases pop up again and again, gaining layers of significance with each occurrence: “a viable, die-able age” appears in a few spots when the victim’s young age feels neither viable nor “die-able” to the reader. By the third occurrence, the tragedy of such an un-viable and untimely death weighs heavily on the plot, on the other characters, and on the atmosphere of the book. The contrast – the lighthearted style describing tragedy – doubles the darkness. Once the reader has processed the death of such a young person, she then recognizes the cutesy phrase and, subsequently, the inappropriateness of the childish language in light of the dark events. Roy almost belittles the tragedy so that the reader then defensively thinks of just how tragic and painful it really was. Roy has brought the reader into the story that much more deeply, which I found necessary because her choppy, un-chronological style– even beyond the flash-forward vignettes – challenged me. The details finally lined up and the 1960s story (as opposed to the twenty years later plot line) became clear right as each character’s world fell to pieces: the young American cousin dies, the untouchable laborer dies, and the main family separates both physically and, in even more drastic ways, emotionally. With the plot being so hard to catch on to, the characters become the focus – trying to determine how their 1960s personalities result in their adult neuroses. As each tragic event in their past unfolds, unifying personality traits and their causes crop up, adding depth to the characters where the plot feels extraordinarily thin. By the end, when the plot has filled out and thickened, the characters’ personalities feel whole, as does the story. The reader just really, really has to work for it, has to endure a whole lot of tragedy and a whole lot of questions, on the way there. An intensely rewarding read, but one that I felt could have been put down and left down for the first three-hundred or so pages. ( )
  revatait | Feb 21, 2021 |
11,62 ( )
  MRMP | Jan 9, 2021 |
Viser 1-5 af 320 (næste | vis alle)
If Ms. Roy is sometimes overzealous in foreshadowing her characters' fate, resorting on occasion to darkly portentous clues, she proves remarkably adept at infusing her story with the inexorable momentum of tragedy. She writes near the beginning of the novel that in India, personal despair ''could never be desperate enough,'' that ''it was never important enough'' because ''worse things had happened'' and ''kept happening.'' Yet as rendered in this remarkable novel, the ''relative smallness'' of her characters' misfortunes remains both heartbreaking and indelible.
 

» Tilføj andre forfattere (21 mulige)

Forfatter navnRolleHvilken slags forfatterVærk?Status
Roy, Arundhatiprimær forfatteralle udgaverbekræftet
Jonkheer, ChristienOversættermedforfatternogle udgaverbekræftet
Lundborg, GunillaOversættermedforfatternogle udgaverbekræftet

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Never again will a single story be told as though it's the only one.

John Berger
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For Mary Roy, who grew me up. Who taught me to say "excuse me" before interrupting her in Public. Who loved me enough to let me go.

For LKC, who, like me, survived.
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May in Ayemenem is a hot, brooding month.
Maj je v Ajemenemu vroč, morast mesec.
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"D'you know what happens when you hurt people? When you hurt people, they begin to love you less. That's what careless words do. They make people love you a little less."
"Just ignore her," Ammu said. "She's just trying to attract attention."

Ammu too was wrong. Rahel was trying to not attract the attention that she deserved.
Rahel looked around her and saw that she was in a Play. But she had only a small part.
She was just the landscape. A flower perhaps. Or a tree.
A face in the crowd. A Townspeople.
Heaven opened and the water hammered down, reviving the reluctant old well, greenmossing the pigless pigsty, carpet bombing still, tea-coloured puddles the way memory bombs still, tea-coloured minds.
Rahel drifted into marriage like a passenger drifts towards an unoccupied chair in an airport lounge. With a Sitting Down sense.
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For en varm, humoristisk og fremsynet indisk familie ændres hele livsindholdet i løbet af få timer, da en engelsk kusine ankommer til det lille samfund i 1960'ernes politiske og alligevel sansemættede atmosfære.

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