This is the book that made me dream of running away to Cairo in the 1940s and having an affair with one of the displaced European aristocracy.

The only thing that's currently preventing this is the human race's inability to perfect the art of time travel. Curses! But once that small hurdle has been removed, I'll be off.

This book appealed to me on many levels.

Deserts and far flung foreign travel - tick.

Hidden subterranean archaeology - tick.

Enigmatic European aristocracy - tick.

Spell binding tale of fate conspiring to separate two people - tick.

The cosmic gulf of death lessened by the yearning of true love - tick.

Independent of the other elements listed above, the whole true love, star crossed lovers spiel usually has me running for the hills with a copy of Die Hard on Blu-ray under one arm and a copy of anything by Wilbur Smith under the other. I'm eager to replace the saccharine sweet taste of a lovey-dovey bleurgh fest with the taste of man sweat, hard liquor and tobacco.

But this book had the opposite effect. I can only conclude that the flawed, desperate character of Count Ladislaus de Almasys and his doomed love affair have cancelled out the saccharine by the very fact that the affair is doomed. Doom is the clincher. It's anything but the prescribed happy ending. That he and his lover are separated in the most permanent and heart-rending of ways is the point upon which the story pivots. If this really was a happy ever after tale, I'd have loved it a lot less.

Almasys' story binds the other key characters together. Hana, his nurse, Kip, the Sapper, and Caravaggio, the mercurial thief, all wish to know and understand the mysterious burned man in a way that can no longer be discerned simply by looking at him. The person he was and his wealth have been swept away in the flames of World War II. He is representative of the ruin in all of their lives. All in all, it's a beautiful tragedy.

The English Patient, which I completed last night, has truly made me reflect on my approach to book reviews. In one aspect, this novel had a profound impact on me with its vivid imagery, powerful writing style, and thematically rich narrative. However, there were numerous instances where I almost abandoned the book due to its overly flowery and almost poetic language, along with the constant references to a text that was completely foreign to me.

The ending, in my opinion, was excellent and it helped me to view the preceding pages in a new light. But the question remains: does this make up for the parts that seemed to take an eternity to read? How does one reconcile such conflicting emotions towards a book like The English Patient?

For many Goodreadians, the starred-review is of utmost importance. But I find myself wondering how to rate a novel that I had mixed feelings about. Normally, I would settle for a comfortable three stars, indicating that it was more good than bad. However, this arbitrary rating fails to capture the moments when Ondaatje's writing truly shines, such as when Caravaggio is first introduced and the headlights of the car create a memorable scene. It also doesn't account for the way he masterfully plays with light throughout the book.

On the other hand, I can't ignore the mid-book section set in Cairo that was initially confusing to me. I even had to turn to the internet for clarification. While I understand that some books require multiple readings to fully comprehend, it was still a bit frustrating. Additionally, I need to consider the role of my professional life in my reading experience. With limited time to read, I often found myself feeling lukewarm towards the book.

Despite all of this, I believe that I am better for having read The English Patient. Even though my feelings are somewhat in the middle, I know that this book will stay with me for a long time. It's not the first book I've read this year that has had this effect on me. I may not fully understand all of the nuances of the novel, but I appreciate a book that challenges me and makes me think. I'm also becoming more comfortable with not having a complete understanding of a book when I write my review. The initial impression that a book makes is still valuable.

In conclusion, The English Patient is a complex and thought-provoking novel that had its highs and lows for me. Sometimes it was great, sometimes it was boring, and sometimes it felt pretentious. But overall, I felt a sense of accomplishment for having read it. I'm looking forward to reading more of Ondaatje's work, starting with Warlight, which I picked up after finding it at a discounted price on the day the 2018 Booker long list was announced. Stay tuned for my further thoughts on Ondaatje and check out my first encounter with his writing.

"Die already." This short and rather harsh phrase may seem simple on the surface, but it can carry a lot of weight and meaning. It could be an expression of frustration, anger, or even a wish for someone or something to just cease to exist.

Perhaps it is said in the heat of the moment, when emotions are running high and patience has worn thin. It might be directed at a person who has been causing trouble or at a situation that seems impossible to resolve.

However, using such language is not appropriate in most situations. It can be hurtful and offensive, and may only serve to escalate the problem rather than solve it. Instead, it is important to communicate in a more respectful and constructive way, even when we are feeling angry or frustrated.

We should strive to find better ways to express our emotions and deal with difficult situations, rather than resorting to such harsh and unkind words. After all, kindness and understanding go a long way in building healthy relationships and resolving conflicts.

I just want you to know. I don't miss you yet.

"You will," she says. pg 158

In only 302 pages of story text, I got completely sucked into this epic heartache story. The movie promo book cover had a review from Time stating "A rare and spellbinding web of dreams"—I truly believe that's the perfect way to describe this book.

Michael Ondaatje wrote a poetic and lyrical story that beautifully combines nature and emotion. His words painted vivid pictures in my mind, invoking strong feelings as I read.

He walked out of the cave, out of the flare of firelight, down through the darkness and into the desert full of moon. pg 249

He crafted a dreamlike story with several characters that revolve around the chaos and confusion during war. The story showcases human nature in its most stripped away form: raw emotion and human connectedness as life moves us into an uncertain future. Lastly, the prose was light-handed, skillfully keeping the story mimic the tones of sadness & trauma, kindled romance, and longing nostalgia.

After reading this, I pulled up clips from the movie on YouTube and they confirmed exactly what I had envisioned in my head: organic character development, beautiful cinematography, and a haunting soundtrack to accompany.

This is the only book to ever bring a tear to my eye. It became my new favorite about halfway through. I can say for certain that I will reread this again in the future. Highly recommended! Thanks!!

The English Patient Kindle Version

By Michael Ondaatje

Four Stars

As I perused other reviews of this book, I discovered that they were a diverse bunch. The readers either adored it or loathed it. Overall, I found it to be an outstanding read, yet I would recommend it with a caveat: allow the story to unfold before abandoning it. The beginning was rather challenging to follow as it jumped around somewhat, but eventually, I was able to perceive the beauty and ingenuity of the writing.

The story centers around four damaged individuals who converge near Florence, Italy, at the conclusion of WW II, in the remnants of a bombed-out Italian villa. The characters include Hana, an exhausted nurse who remained behind to tend to a severely burned, unidentified man, the English patient; Caravaggio, “the maimed thief”; and Kip, the cautious Sikh “sapper” or engineer. All of them are attempting to solve the mystery of the burned man. The author traces the intersection of the lives of these four with captivating and beautiful tales of passion, betrayal, and rescue, illuminating the book like flashes of heat lightning.

A significant portion of the book discloses the English patient's past as a desert explorer. The author dedicated extensive research to the Royal Geographical Society's documentation on desert exploration in the 1930s to recreate storms, the locations of oases, hidden wells, and charted navigation. Ondaatje wrote about his character's love for the desert,描绘了他在那里如鱼得水的情景以及他对同伴探险家的热爱。 If you are like me, the deserts of Africa are intimidating places, but the author has sparked a newfound interest. Did you know that if you stand still in a sandstorm, you may be buried and potentially lost due to disorientation, unable to “swim out”?

Another point of interest for me is Kip's task of defusing unexploded bombs. Once again, the author did his research, describing techniques, temperament, and the Sikh's inherent mechanical abilities and intelligence, adding a great deal of authenticity to the novel.

Finally, there is the revelation of the explosion of the atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki near the end of the book, and the devastating emotional impact on Kip when he learned of it. He was aware that it was a white President instantaneously destroying the lives of millions of brown people, Orientals, Indians, etc., and that the bomb would not be used against whites. This revelation has had an emotional impact on me as the author describes it in the book.

«The English Patient» is a vivid portrayal and a snapshot of the era of World War II. It weaves a complex web of love and jealousy set against the backdrop of nations engaged in power games, espionage, and counter-espionage, all culminating in the dropping of bombs, one after another. Hiroshima and Nagasaki. One can understand the revolt of Kip, that admirable Hindu sapper who amputated and dismantled the limbs of evil.

The writing is truly beautiful, but the structure of the book made it very difficult for me to read. I had to go back and forth through the pages, some to better understand and others to delight in again and again, like the descriptions of the desert.

Four main characters are isolated in an Italian villa, stripped of their identities, unable to imitate anything except what they were, with no other defense but to seek the truth in others.

I never saw the movie and only now read the book, which is much more than what I have written about it. «The English Patient» is one of the stories of my sister's life: I recognized her in it, but I also got to know her better.

As is often said: tell me what you read, and I will tell you who you are.

«We are collective stories, collective books. We are not slaves nor monogamous in our tastes or experiences. I only wished to walk on such a land where there are no maps.»

I am truly amazed that this particular work was ever perused by more than a thousand individuals. It stands as too poetically inclined for the mainstream audience, its structure too fragmented for effortless consumption, and its sensuality too pronounced for those who prioritize the plot as the most crucial aspect of a novel. Nevertheless, it remains firmly among my top three favorite novels precisely because of its poetic charm, fragmented nature, and sensuality.

This time around, I made the decision to read it aloud, and an entirely new dimension of sensuality erupted within my reading experience. Actually savoring those words and the worlds they create on my tongue, laboriously making my way through the English Patient's narrative, allowing Kip's Lahore English to spill over my teeth, taking on Carravagio's voice as my own, and striving to capture Hana for myself (I have the advantage of being predominantly Canadian and not having to modify my accent for the latter two) significantly enhanced the sensuality of the book. And it wasn't merely because the sounds were echoing in my mind. I could physically feel the words filling my lungs, or searing my throat, or traversing my airways in diverse ways. So, speaking the words on the page, those already inherently sensual words, made the sensuality palpable for me.

To experience a book in these alternative ways as I read and listen to it is as close as I come to a sacred encounter. Words are my spiritual haven. Michael Ondaatje is my guiding priest. The English Patient is one of my most cherished scriptures.

Don't even bother discussing with me the abomination that is the film adaptation.

The English Patient is truly one of the novels that I detest the most throughout my entire reading experience. Michael Ondaatje's writing style is like having a delicate and almost transparent skein continuously tossed onto your face and then yanked away. It is so fleeting and lacking in substance that it becomes extremely irritating. Moreover, the dialogue in this novel is simply atrocious. The way Ondaatje portrays the speech of people in the 1940s is completely inaccurate. In 1992, this novel won the Booker Prize, which, for some inexplicable reason, was shared with Barry Unsworth's Sacred Hunger. I have not had the opportunity to read Sacred Hunger, but based on the one novel by Unsworth that I have read, Morality Play, which was written with precision, well-thought-out, and highly engaging, I am confident in stating that, without even reading it, there is no way Sacred Hunger could be on the same level as the literary mess that The English Patient is.

One of my very favorites is this amazing thing.

It is not only beautiful, with its charming appearance that can catch anyone's eye at first sight.

But it is also intelligent, possessing a kind of wisdom that makes it stand out from the rest.

However, there is a side to it that is heartbreaking.

Sometimes, it shows a vulnerability that makes you want to protect it at all costs.

It can bring so much joy and wonder, yet at the same time, it can also cause a deep sense of sadness.

This favorite of mine is truly a complex and captivating thing that has a special place in my heart.

Whether it's its beauty, intelligence, or the heartbreaking moments, it all combines to make it an unforgettable part of my life.

I cherish it and will always remember the impact it has had on me.

I remember when the movie "The English Patient" was playing in theaters years ago. Although I saw snippets, I never watched it. So, I came into Michael Ondaatje's story only knowing it was about a romance. After reading his book, I see it as a more anti-war story with some romance. If and when I see the movie, I will come back and comment.

I will not go into too much detail about the story because there is a progression of events unfolding as we learn who the English Patient really is. Through flashbacks of the characters, we are able to come closer to the truth. Saying too much will spoil it for you. Looking this novel up on the internet, it is classified as mostly romantic. But to me, even though there is a romance between a mysterious man and a married woman, this romance does not seem true. It appears to be a self-centered and selfish love, which I found trying. The scene when the man paints his dying mistress' face was strange. Or did I understand that wrong? These two characters are very unlikable in my opinion, and my interest in them was limited. However, I was interested in the other three characters: Hana, Kip, and Caravaggio. They keep the story engaging. The kind of subtle romance/friendship between the young nurse and the sapper kept me wondering.

The war and my thoughts regarding this book. I found the book mostly focused on Kip and the defusing of mines/bombs and Hana's experiences as a nurse. Both stories were poignant, and there were many actual facts mixed in with the fictionalized story. For example, Kip's boss, Lord Suffolk, was an actual gentleman who died while defusing a bomb with his other helpers.

Kip has a feeling of anger and needs to go back to his country after hearing about the bombing of Japan. At first, I thought he was being extreme, but thinking about it, I can understand his anger, although I do not agree. In my opinion, decisions made at times can always be criticized later, but Truman did what he thought was best, and the Japanese were determined. I am glad I did not have to make this decision, but I truly feel that the bombing had nothing to do with color. If the atom bomb had been available earlier, the Germans might have had such a thing happen to them. You may certainly disagree.

The story in short: A nurse stays behind with a terribly burned patient who refuses to say much about himself to anybody.

My last comment is regarding the use of a four-letter word regarding sex, which I found rather distasteful, and a scene early on with a young boy. I enjoyed this story, but it was not as I expected and not a favorite. Yet, there are many gems of ideas that made it well worth my time!

All I wanted was a world without maps. The sadness is closer to hatred, and we must protect our hearts from it. But every night, I was tearing my heart apart just to wake up with a whole heart again. This is what our four heroes endured in a 1990s romantic war tragedy. It touches the hearts and confronts the awards with a human and global narrative.


“There are betrayals in war that are childlike compared with our human betrayals during peace. The new lovers enter the habits of the other. Things are smashed, revealed in a new light. This is done with nervous or tender sentences, although the heart is an organ of fire.”

The concept of a world without maps is an interesting one. It implies a sense of freedom and adventure, where one can explore without the constraints of pre-determined paths. However, the reality is that maps are essential for navigation and understanding our surroundings. In a similar vein, the idea of protecting our hearts from sadness and hatred is a noble one. But in a world full of betrayals and disappointments, it can be difficult to keep our hearts intact. The four heroes in the 1990s romantic war tragedy faced many challenges and betrayals, yet they still managed to find love and hope in the midst of chaos. Their story is a powerful reminder that even in the darkest of times, there is always a glimmer of light.

Alrighty, this is indeed an extremely unconventional way to commence a book review. However, the 1996 film directed by Anthony Mingella and featuring Ralph Fiennes, Juliette Binoche, and Kristin Scott Thomas is a cinematic masterpiece that bagged 9 Oscars and still remains one of my all-time favorites. Strangely enough, I had never read the book until this very morning. Ever since its publication in 1992, The English Patient has been adored by many. It is now available in thirty-eight languages and has received the highly coveted "Golden Booker Prize" in 2018 to commemorate the award's 50th anniversary. As I have observed from reading numerous outstanding reviews on Goodreads and other places on the internet, this book is rather polarizing.

Although I agree with my fellow reviewers that the narrative has a certain choppiness as it alternates between the present characters and the burned man's past, I adored it for two very specific reasons. Firstly, the profound reflections on the devastating impact of WWII on the individual characters. Each of these characters finds themselves in a state of limbo, and I was completely engrossed in uncovering where they would all ultimately end up. Secondly, the passionate love story between Almasy and Katharine Clifton. If Robert Redford in Out of Africa made every woman yearn to have her hair washed by her lover, then Michael Ondaatje's Almasy (and Ralph Fiennes by association) probably makes us question why more men are not captivated by our suprasternal (jugular) notch.

I am truly glad that I did not overlook this book! Now, of course, I have an intense desire to watch the movie all over again!