Sublime, elegante, poético, profundo. These words describe a state of being, a quality that is rare and precious.

Something that is sublime has a grandeur and magnificence that takes our breath away. It elevates our spirits and makes us feel small in the face of its awesomeness.

The elegant is characterized by grace, refinement, and style. It is a thing of beauty that is pleasing to the eye and the senses.

The poetic is filled with the power of language, the ability to express emotions and ideas in a way that touches our hearts and souls.

And the profound is deep, meaningful, and significant. It makes us think, question, and explore the mysteries of life.

Together, these qualities create a sense of wonder and inspiration that enriches our lives and makes us better human beings.

I have always carried a vast ocean of knowledge within me. I am one of those people who, when left alone in a house, will径直 go to the bookshelves, pick up a volume and devour it insatiably. In this way, history penetrates into us.

She desires only the bright beauty, the theater of expressions. She wants the tiny and mysterious gaze between them, the narrowest visual ray, the differences between them placed side by side, like two pages glued together in a closed book.

Knowledge is like a precious treasure that enriches our souls. It allows us to explore different eras, cultures, and ideas. When we read, we embark on a journey of discovery, opening doors to new worlds and expanding our horizons.

The power of a gaze can be profound. It can convey emotions, intentions, and a depth of connection that words may sometimes fail to express. That tiny, mysterious gaze holds the potential to reveal the hidden essence of a relationship.

Just as two pages glued together in a closed book form a unique bond, the differences between people can bring them closer, creating a beautiful harmony when they are placed side by side.

A good winner indeed! I was truly captivated by the beautiful and poetic prose, as well as the fascinating lives of the four main characters.

Hana, a Canadian nurse with psychological scars, takes care of the English Patient, a terminally burnt man slowly dying in an abandoned villa in Florence.

Kip Singh, a courageous Indian sapper, risks his life every day to disarm booby traps. And then there's Carravaigo, a thumbless thief addicted to morphine and a friend of Hana's from Canada.

The story unfolds, revealing how the English Patient was burnt, saved by nomads, and the mystery that shrouds him. His tragic love affair, the archaeological expeditions in the Libyan desert, and the Herodotus book he saved from the fire all add depth to his character and have a profound influence on him and the others in the villa.

Although I haven't seen the film yet, I'm now extremely curious to do so and find out if it differs significantly from the book. I rate this book 4.5 out of 5. The ending, while satisfying, was a little too happy for my taste. The way Kip and Hana survived seemed almost implausible, and Kip's reaction to the atomic bombs felt a bit exaggerated. Nevertheless, it's still a worthy winner that has left a lasting impression on me.

Even though it was many years ago that I saw it, I truly wish I had read the book before watching the movie adaptation of The English Patient.

Most likely, it would have led to my despising the movie. However, having seen the movie first, my attention was drawn to certain aspects, and I failed to notice other elements until it was too late.

Note: The remainder of this review has been removed due to the alterations in Goodreads' policy and enforcement. You can find out the reason for my decision here.

In the meantime, you can access the complete review at Smorgasbook.

The English Patient, Michael Ondaatje

The English Patient is a remarkable 1992 novel penned by Michael Ondaatje, a Sri Lankan-born Canadian who wears many hats as a poet, fiction writer, essayist, novelist, editor, and filmmaker. The story unfolds during the Italian Campaign of World War II and revolves around four distinct individuals who find themselves brought together at an Italian villa. These four main characters include an unidentifiable burned man, the eponymous patient, presumed to be English, his Canadian Army nurse, a Sikh British Army sapper, and a Canadian thief.

The narrative takes place during the North African Campaign and focuses on the gradual revelations of the patient's actions prior to his injuries and the profound emotional effects these revelations have on the other characters. As the story progresses, we are drawn into a web of mystery and intrigue. The burned man's identity remains a secret until the end, due to the severity of his injuries and the psychological shock of the incident. The events of the story occur after the "English Patient" enters a monastery in Tuscany, Italy, and is hospitalized there. A young nurse takes on the responsibility of caring for the burned and injured pilot in that hospital.

The war is in full swing, and the nurse has to deal with countless patients. She tries to do her best for each one, thinking thoughts like "This one I will get right; his death will not be my fault." These words echo in her mind as she moves from one place to another during the war, from Arbinu, Angiari, Monterchi, to Florence, and a little further away to the coast of Pisa. Every day, these thoughts pass through her mind. She first meets the "English Patient" in the hospital in Pisa. He is a faceless man, his skin burned to a deep ebony color. All his papers have been burned in the fire. On the burned parts of his face and body, a mazew of jewels has been placed to make the protective cells of the skin stronger. A thick layer of "wool dugeon" has also been placed around his eyes. There is no sign on his face for anyone to recognize him.

I am right in the middle on this one and awarding it three stars. I truly appreciated the beautiful utilization of the English language and the charming descriptions. There were certain parts of the story that I really liked, for example, the chapters related to Kip. However, there were also parts where, despite my best efforts, I simply could not make any real sense of what was happening. Maybe there was actually nothing going on, I'm not sure. Additionally, I did not care for the love affair. It seemed to be extremely brief and it ended in a very harsh manner. And I have always preferred books where the ending provides a sense of closure. This particular one left me with a lot of unanswered questions, constantly asking myself "but what about.........?"

The cast of characters in The English Patient is presented in a very clear manner. However, I have come across reviews that describe them as being shell shocked. Are these characters truly mad? I am referring to the fictional personas within the story, not the reviewers. Do they consider themselves normal? Surely they do. I was aware from the start that I might not understand every sentence. But there is one particular part that left me completely mystified. It began with the phrase "Her foot pressed down harder onto the boy's neck...".

The book makes several references to other books and quite a few songs as well. I wonder why a specific song like La Marseillaise was chosen. It is very interesting. Was Madox perhaps influenced by the Russian classic Anna Karenina? His fate is tragic, of course. Even more so because he seemed healthy and righteous. But his role is relatively small. I am surprised by the significant role that Kip plays. In the movie (which I don't recall in great detail), he was just a minor character. In the book, he almost has equal importance as the English Patient. His part had to be large due to his role as a bomb disarming agent, a sapper. The vocabulary of this book is excellent. Words like schottische and pollard are very appropriate, relevant, and precise.

There are two types of books: those that provide clarity and illumination, and those that require more effort to understand. Did Hana love Almasy because of the contradiction in his character? Because he is elusive, not possessive at all, yet at the same time he has to admit that he lost the love of his life. He has a closed-off expression - I am speaking metaphorically, as his face has been severely burned - but still has the air of a man who has been in love. If, as readers, we could understand why Hana stayed in Florence to take care of the English Patient, we would have our own interpretation of the book. I just wish I could have witnessed his death. It would have provided some sense of closure.

12/26/17 audio reread

This book! Oh, this book, this book, this book! It tells such an unfortunate and unforgettable love story.

As I listened to the audio, I couldn't help but compare it to the print version. In my opinion, I have a stronger preference for the print version.

The reason is that the narrator of the audio didn't quite capture the essence and emotions of the story for me. Maybe it was the tone, the pacing, or something else.

However, that doesn't mean the story itself is any less captivating. The love story is still full of twists and turns, heartaches and joys.

Despite my slight disappointment with the audio, I will definitely be rereading this book in print to fully immerse myself in the beautiful and tragic world it creates.

The desert could not be claimed or owned. It was like a piece of cloth carried by the winds, never held down by stones, and given a hundred shifting names.

The same can be said of the characters in The English Patient. This is a beautiful, artfully crafted novel about the mapping of identity within borders. Set before and during World War Two, when borders were in continual flux and territorial conquest and possession were the name of the game. The narrative, like the abandoned villa where the characters take refuge and the fateful cave where the paintings of swimmers are discovered (even the desert/sea boundary has shifted over time), is a construction of haunting echoes. Ondaatje constantly brings the narrative back to memory, the most secret and perhaps defining element of self, thus continuously showing us how fluid the borders of self are. Nationality, another way of mapping identity, especially in wartime, is another prominent theme in the novel. Kip, an Indian sapper in the British army, straddles another drawn line. He has never felt fully accepted by the British as a whole, although he has two English friends with whom he is very close. Ondaatje once again shows us how history's borders are arbitrary and can be individually crossed. Nevertheless, he will always feel excluded, as if detained by customs. Love, not nationality, will give him his most vivid sense of self, ultimately undone by another impersonal act of history. The English Patient isn't English at all; he's a Hungarian count, and his nationality too will ultimately exclude him from his heart. He himself pastes and writes his own fragmented history into his battered copy of Herodotus' Histories. A contrast between the conventional narrative of history with its battles and leaders and shifting allegiances and personal history made up of secret epiphanies and tragedies of timing. Together with Hana, a young nurse mourning the death of her brother, and Caravaggio, a spy, thief, and morphine addict, Almasey, the so-called English patient, and Kip take refuge in the Tuscan villa, which becomes a kind of haven where they speak to each other's private selves and are thus able to draw up truer maps of their individual histories, until the outside world and its insistence on arbitrary, stifling demarcation lines once again intervenes.

It must also be said that Ondaatje's prose is as rhythmically captivating and inspired as that of Virginia Woolf or Don Delillo at their best.

The English Patient is a remarkable novel that weaves together multiple themes. It is a poet's novel and a post-colonial one, challenging modernist assumptions about narrative and meaning. The story unfolds in fragments, a pastiche of dense and lyrical writing. Set during WWII in Italy and the Libyan desert, it explores war, romance, adventure, race, and mystery. The English patient, a badly burned man, tells his tale of mapping the desert and a tragic love affair to Hana, a young nurse. Alongside them are Caravaggio, a thief with cut thumbs, and Kip, a damaged Sikh sapper. The book delves into the characters' traumas and their complex relationships. Memory and experience are distorted by morphine, adding to the dream-like quality. It's about reading the past, with various books being read and mentioned. The English Patient is a difficult but admirable book, filled with layers of ideas and poetry, and underlying post-colonialist rage. I had forgotten reading it, but it slowly came back as I discovered my own notes. I reread it to prepare for Ondaatje's Warlight, and I'm curious about In the Skin of a Lion, which delves deeper into the characters' pasts.

Overall, The English Patient is a captivating and thought-provoking work that leaves a lasting impression.

On the floating shelf of Books That Have Changed My Life, one will find The English Patient.

Michael Ondaatje repeats a line that truly captivates me. It appears on pages 112 and 113 of my edition: 'If he could just walk the seven yards across the Englishman's room and touch her he would be sane.' A few paragraphs later, he repeats it again: 'If he could walk across the room and touch her he would be sane.'

I firmly believe this is the only repeated line in the book. I have the urge to ask Ondaatje why. Why this particular moment? Why this specific line? But then again, I don't. Because I prefer to live in my belief that this line is the very soul of the book and of storytelling itself.

The word 'If' holds so much power. 'If he could just' and 'If he could just walk'.

What follows after the second iteration of the line is equally profound: 'But between them lay a treacherous and complex journey. It was a very wide world'.

You see? The entire essence of the book, its plot, themes, and everything that has the potential to change your life is right there on page 113. Just across the room, where the soft glow of candlelight shines on the face of a young woman with an old soul. Why can't you walk those seven yards? Why can't you touch her? What is the madness lurking within your soul, where did it originate from, and why do you resist being healed by that young woman with the candlelight in her eyes?

Goddammit. This book truly has a profound impact on me.

It is with a heavy heart that I'm writing this review.

I have long desired to read The English Patient. Given its Booker Prize win, my expectations were sky-high. Moreover, Ondaatje's roots trace back to my country, and I hold a certain loyalty towards the author. However, one must be honest, and I'll do my best to explain why I couldn't conform to the popular view.

Ondaatje's writing is exquisitely beautiful, almost poetic. That is his strength. And this is the reason I endured reading it. I read it simply to immerse myself in the beauty of his phrases, metaphors, and symbolism. Yet, the story eluded me. I failed to understand Ondaatje's intention. Nor did I care after the initial struggle. I was floundering in the darkness and lost interest halfway through. The微弱的启示之光 towards the end was insufficient to rouse me from my indifference.

The story alternated rapidly between the past and the present, between characters, and between thoughts and the narrative. As a result, I was unable to fully invest myself in either the characters or their stories. I enjoyed some of the backstories, but I can't say I cared much about the main story. It was dull and repetitive.

I didn't have much concern for the four occupants at the villa either. I even disliked the "English patient" until towards the end. I might have felt more of a connection with Hana had her character been more fully explored. But the author kept her distant and mysterious. I felt a bit of sympathy for Kip, but his action at the end seemed out of character. The only solid character was the desert, which constantly asserted its presence, symbolizing Ondaatje's concepts of no nations, liberty, and freedom.

Taking into account my reading experience, my overall conclusion on The English Patient is that perhaps it is the kind of story that is better suited for the screen than for the printed page.

More of my reviews can be found at http://piyangiejay.com/