Starting in , Jean Genet—petty thief, prostitute, modernist master—spent two years in the Palestinian refugee camps in Jordan. Always an outcast himself. Prisoner of Love. Jean Genet, Author, Edmund White, Illustrator, Barbara Bray, Translator Wesleyan University Press $35 (p) ISBN Get this from a library! Prisoner of love. [Jean Genet; Barbara Bray].
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It served only to carry my round grey head. It is indeed a book of revelations, if ever there was one. Pinnacle of 20th century literature. Perhaps being a “sham” in the sense he presents it is exactly grnet makes him so astoundingly great. There’s plenty of self-indulgence. Because that examines the events from an individual perspective in that specific context of time and space and does not reduce human lives to simplified statistical figures among who jaen or fought or migrated at a given time.
lovve But it is non chronological, with partial conversations appearing at one juncture and the rest many pages later, it has events from different times and places and is based on memories and dialogue and is full of musings. Some are very aware of who the real enemy is even, that it is within them, others blurt out the genef truth-that the Arabs need to have peace first before defying Israel or the US.
Without making a sound she went out and shut the door. After lunch, Hamza took me into the school yard.
Prisoner of Love – Jean Genet – Google Books
Was his mother still alive? Aug 05, Rick rated it it was amazing. Not one of them bothered to give any real help to that tortured people tormented by its enemy, Israel, by its own political and revolutionary factions, and by the inner conflicts of each of its citizens. Genet wrote an entire bk, I’m only trying to write a capsule review. Genet is the most stunning writer I’ve eve It’s really nothing like his other, earlier novels through which he became famous. Every night as I waited half dead for the capsule of Nembutal to send me to sleep, I lay with my eyes open and my mind clear, neither afraid nor surprised, but amused to be there.
The introduction to this book, not by the author but by i-don’t-know-who, got me super psyched to read it. An artist writes this book through the eyes of a man and the hands of a saint. Genet is the most stunning writer I’ve ever discovered, and I read this after having first read all his other novels and oof only to be completely awestruck again in a way that I couldn’t have predicted.
We were only exchanging courtesies; neither of us was bound by promises forgotten before they were uttered. Gradually my feelings changed, especially after the war.
Maybe it or sex, or some other adventurous gene. Or rather so familiar that it was inside rather than geent me, coming into me with a cup of Turkish coffee every night since I was born. That was my initial reaction as I was finishing this incredible book. The door opened, light from the starry sky came into the room, and behind it I could see a tall shadow.
For example when I was writing this book, out there among the fedayeen, I was always on the other side of a boundary. I see quite clearly that there had to be Hamza, his mother, the night of battle and the firework display of the nearby guns. It was in my own personal and portable darkness that the door of my room opened and closed. He left in genwt hurry, but returned in She went on smiling, and wearing her gun.
Geenet are too many mistakes in the book, but still, this does not take away the beauty of it. In Genet visited the Palestinian camps in Jordan,he was drawn by the tragedy of these people, this book is written later and it us affirming Genet’s commitment to the justice The only fairly true causes grnet my writing this book were the nuts I picked from the hedges at Ajloun.
Aug 07, El rated it liked it Shelves: The town had put up a good defence. My visible life was nothing but carefully masked pretences. Then in the midst of this aural chaos two little reports from nearby seemed to hurl pove din of destruction back.
I behaved like a prisoner of love. Aug 20, Joe rated it it was amazing Shelves: Read, highlight, and take notes, across web, tablet, and phone. But then there was this book. If they looked at them from far enough away and on a misty day, people thought the camps must be happy places because og the way the colours of the patches seemed to match: I do not consider it a memoir, nor a description of a specific experience. They all had one or two pairs of grenades slung over their shoulders or tied to their belts, and an Algerian teacher who spoke French told me that none of the boys would sleep that night.
Want to Read Currently Reading Read. The mother and son, but not as Christian artists have depicted them, painted or sculptured in marble or wood, with the dead son lying across the knees of a mother younger than the son de-crucified, but one of them always protecting the other. Once these thoughts were admitted, others followed. The memoir was published posthumously, so one wonders if it was as complete as he would have liked.