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Laurence Viallet (Traducteur)
EAN : 9782714441836
444 pages
Belfond (03/05/2006)
4.23/5   15 notes
Résumé :
La suite des aventures de James ou comment, après une cure de désintoxication et trois mois de prison, le plus difficile commence.
Que lire après Mon ami LeonardVoir plus
Critiques, Analyses et Avis (1) Ajouter une critique
What a fucking genius... and I am not used to be vulgar in another language unless it's called for.

Here as a freaking awesome compliment. Read plenty of reviews stating the lack of standard litterature "prose" and well, it does not matter, I don't care, have to make my own judgement, cannot be so bad, so bought it, and read it happily, simple and effective, speaking directly to the mind without even thinking of WTF this could be understood or the most frequent nightmare, especially for french authors I've read, listening to themselves while writing.

I ate this book from cover to cover, and lived this life as if I was part of it, a beautiful fiction in a reality so much intertwinned and most of all, not much thinkings, many actions, even when not doing, jsut a style that compells the whole story to major heigths. The perfect sequel to "a million little pieces".

Lien : http://souslesportes.blogspo..
Commenter  J’apprécie          40

Citations et extraits (1) Ajouter une citation
And well, a trailer from this book going through the highlights I fully enjoyed:

I sit and I take the pain and I ignore the pain and I forget the pain because I want to learn some form of control . I believe that pain and suffering are different things. Pain is the feeling. Suffering is the effect that pain inflicts. If one can endure pain, one can live without suffering. If one can learn to withstand pain, one can withstand anything. If one can learn to control pain , one can learn to control oneself.

My life is a simple routine.

Sometimes I talk to the paintings, to the figures in the paintings. I ask a farmer how’s the weather, I ask a singer what’s the song, I ask a baby what’s your name, I ask a young woman why are you crying? I stand in front of Vincent’s self-portrait. Vincent who knew pain and failure, who knew self-doubt and insanity, who cut off his ear, who shot himself. I know Vincent well. I have nothing to say to him.

I celebrate April Fools’ Day. The one day a year when we are reminded what we are for the other three hundred and sixty-four. Happy Fools’ Day, motherfucker, happy April Fools’ Day.

Pretend to be something, be convincing, and people will treat you differently, as if you actually are what you are pretending to be. It’s a game, embarrassing and fake, but it is a means to an end here, so I play the game, and I quickly learn that I play it pretty well.

There it is, that mean and wondrous wench. The best place and worst place in America, a place where dreams come true, where people are destroyed, a place that doesn’t care about the past and is a vision of the future, where capitalism is displayed in all of its glory and horror, where everything and anything can be bought, sold, traded or stolen.

What I want is to be next to her, to hold her , to be inside of her, to devour her, to disappear within her, to become part of her somehow, to become part of her.

I just had a great meal. I’m in love. I know I’m going to wake up tomorrow. I’m a lucky man. A lucky man. Lucky motherfucky.

And he also violated one of the primary rules of a tough guy. What’s that? Never show your gun, just empty it.

I shouldn’t have run away from my loss, I should have known it would run with me.

a second of freedom was worth more than a lifetime of bondage.

He says France is like a beautiful woman who knows she’s beautiful, some people will love her beauty and arrogance, some people will hate it.

what’s the meaning of life, Leonard? He laughs, says that’s an easy one, my son, it’s whatever you want it to be.

Because love hurts sometimes, and it hurts more if you know it’s not going to work out. How do you know it wasn’t going to work out? Look at me. It wasn’t going to work out.

If you’re gonna cry, cry because of all the good times we had, and all the laughs, and all the fun shit we did, and cry because those memories make you happy.

Commenter  J’apprécie          30

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Numéro Quatre

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