There are moments when it can be a good book. However, the intervals between each of these moments are long. Considering that the book only has 80 pages, these moments become extremely few. It's a pity, especially as a potentiating factor for Duras' prose full of modernisms. There is a very well achieved atmosphere that is in line with the condition of the character Anne. I believe that is the high point of the narrative, in the way the narrator manages to make Anne's psychological aspect come to life. But if, as Claude Roy says, quoted on the back cover, this is the best book of Marguerite Duras, then I can close the store.

Overall, the book has its闪光点, but its brevity and the long gaps between the good moments prevent it from reaching its full potential. It leaves the reader with a sense of unfulfilled promise, as if there was so much more that could have been explored. Despite this, the well-crafted atmosphere and the interesting portrayal of Anne's psychology make it still worth a read for fans of Duras' work.

However, if this is truly supposed to be her best book, one can't help but wonder what her other works might be like. Maybe they offer a more complete and satisfying reading experience. In any case, this book serves as a reminder of the complexity and artistry that Duras brought to her writing, even in a relatively short work.

Roland Barthes once proclaimed that the difference between traditional and modern writing lies notably in the speed of reading. This statement has never rung truer than when it comes to Marguerite Duras' "Moderato Cantabile". This short novel, of approximately a hundred pages, must be read slowly, word by word, and even then, one is not sure of having grasped everything.

It has nothing to do with the construction of the sentence or other linguistic issues. On the contrary, the sentence has the same beautiful cadence and its meaning the same clarity that Duras has accustomed us to. It is the plot that refuses to unfold, the characters who almost fail to reveal themselves, and the narrator who loses his function as an intermediary between the fictional world and the reader.

Yes, we are talking about a "new novel". However, when the new novel meets Marguerite Duras, there is surely more to it than that. For the refusal of narration, character, and plot hides possibilities (like in interactive books, to simplify a bit) that the reader feels obliged to search for and develop.

Inevitably, the adventure of reading becomes a hunt for suppositions, a challenge to interpretations, and, of course, a subconscious effort to transform the new and strange into the traditional and familiar. That is, to bring writing into the well-known zone of theme identification, structure discovery, and image interpretation.

Let's see. A child refuses to remember the meaning of the expression "moderato cantabile", to the exasperation of his piano teacher and the complacency of his mother. A sonatina is interrupted by a cry. A woman and a man reconstruct a passionate crime by making it personal. A meal celebrates the boldness of the senses. What is it really about? Some have said - the grayness of bourgeois life (brr! - what a crudeness), some have said - love and death, some have said - don't look at the couple, look at the child, and the meal, and the wine and pay attention to the encounter and death.

For my part, I say that perhaps it is about the false reassurance of a life lived moderato cantabile until a sensational event disturbs it, and of people who superimpose their lives on the tragedies of others without really understanding them, and of the suffocation of social conventions and the escape to mediocre reality. And of the struggle, lost in advance, with the ephemeral.

As Chauvin said, "Time passes, you are more and more behind."

So many different views on such a small novel, but which incites the reader without alienating him, not even the least prepared one, to give himself to the uncertain pleasures of a new writing. For (and this is the case with all true masterpieces), even in these mysteries of reading, he always finds his own path to follow at will, in order to adapt it to his horizon of expectation.

Valha-me a paciência santa!

But what the hell was this? It was the first book I read by the author and I have to say that I didn't understand her purpose. Here is a brief summary: There is a murder in the café downstairs from the house where Anne Desbaresdes' son has piano lessons (the boy doesn't want to learn but is obliged); the boy spends almost the whole book asking if his mother already knows why the woman who was killed screamed like that; Anne starts going to the café to drink a few glasses of wine and meanwhile starts a disjointed conversation with a man, Chauvin, who is usually sitting there (who from the conversation seems more like a "creepy stalker" than anything else I know). This becomes a routine. The boy plays on the sidewalk while the mother has some strange conversations with Chauvin and drinks some glasses of wine. Ah, it goes without saying that she ends up drunk. In the end, she exchanges a kiss with the gentleman and that's it.

I didn't like the book, there's nothing to like, at least for me there isn't. Maybe others will love the book and draw great conclusions that I don't draw. I was about to give up reading it, however, I still hoped that it could have some logic and even get better. Oh, so innocent. Anyway, I didn't like it, nor can I like everything, right?

AH! Just because it had a bad start, a less happy book, it doesn't mean that I will never read another book by Mrs. Duras again. On the contrary. I will read those that arouse my interest. Maybe I'll be lucky.

Is it true that words never betray what a person wishes to express through them?

This is a profound question that makes us stop and think. Words are the building blocks of communication, and we rely on them to convey our thoughts, feelings, and ideas. However, there are times when words may not accurately capture the full essence of what we want to say.

Sometimes, the meaning we intend may be lost in translation or misinterpreted by the listener or reader. Context also plays a crucial role in determining the true meaning of words. A word that may have one meaning in one situation could have a completely different meaning in another.

Moreover, our emotions and personal biases can influence the way we use and understand words. We may choose certain words to convey a particular message, but the recipient may perceive it differently based on their own experiences and perspectives.

In conclusion, while words are a powerful tool for communication, they are not infallible. We must be careful in how we use them and be open to the possibility of miscommunication. By being aware of these potential pitfalls, we can strive to communicate more effectively and ensure that our words truly express what we mean.

Page 130

Having developed a profound interest in the work of Marguerite Duras after devouring 'The Lover' and 'Hiroshima mon amour', I decided to give this captivating novella a try. And I was not let down. It is a book that defies easy categorization in terms of genre, and I'm not entirely certain I fully grasped its essence. What I do know is that I was completely engrossed and couldn't tear myself away until the very end. The story initially seems rather straightforward. A woman, Anne Desbaresdes, takes her young son for piano lessons every Friday. On one particular Friday, shortly after the piano lesson concludes, she hears a scream from the café beneath the piano teacher's apartment. A crowd has assembled, and a man is sitting on the floor of the café, beside a woman he has killed. Now, this might sound like the stuff of a mystery thriller, and to some extent, it is. But it delves deeper into the themes of passion, possession, obsession, and existence, perhaps with a touch of existentialism thrown in. I refrain from providing more details as it's a short book, and I could potentially reveal everything. Since writing this review, I have delved into quite a bit of her work, and I would say this ranks among my top three Duras books so far. It's an atmospheric and fascinating read that leaves a lasting impression.

Vacker novell! Jag tror verkligen att man ska läsa boken två gånger. Tyvärr var det min sambo som lånade den, och hon ska ta med den till Berlin där hon åker på en filmfestival imorgon. Så jag måste sätta betyg nu och sen gå till biblioteket och låna en annan bok, kanske en killbok. Kanske köper jag också en whisky. Jag tänker ställa om dygnet, sluta raka mig och bara äta pizza. Det kommer att vara väldigt avslappnat. Hon kommer hem på måndag igen, och då får jag fräscha till mig själv. Jag ser fram emot att kunna läsa boken igen när hon kommer tillbaka.

Short and condensed, with a kind of desperation, in a woman's attempt to understand the "crime of passion" she witnesses one evening. Together with a man at the café where it happens, she tries to relate what might have happened, in an internalized way between them, as if the thoughts form a kind of circular narrative, and in fact it is the two who are involved in the murder (a possible reading). Duras is a master at making the story uncertain, at writing out uncertain and strange situations and conversations, which bring to mind the theater. What is shown/happening is some form of poetic representation of what is happening, rather than what is actually taking place, while of course it is that, it is what is actually written out. It may sound strange, perhaps I'm reading it in a clumsy way, but that's how I experience it. Sparingly, but still so much beneath the surface, just like typical Norén plays, or Bergman films, I imagine.

This woman, her mind in turmoil, struggles to make sense of the violent scene she has just witnessed. The man beside her seems equally affected, yet there is an unspoken connection between them. As they try to piece together the events, the story becomes a web of uncertainties. Duras' writing style adds to this ambiguity, making the reader question what is real and what is imagined. The setting of the café, with its ordinary exterior, hides the chaos and drama that has unfolded within. It's as if the walls themselves are witnesses to the crime, holding the secrets of what truly happened.

The woman's internal struggle is palpable, and the man's presence only serves to heighten the tension. Their conversations are filled with pauses and unspoken thoughts, as if they are both afraid to say too much. And yet, there is a sense of inevitability about their connection, as if they are both drawn into a story that they cannot escape. Duras' ability to create such a complex and mysterious narrative is truly remarkable, leaving the reader with more questions than answers.

If you happened to pick up this book because you devoured The Lover and were completely enamored with it, or perhaps you read Hiroshima, Mon Amour and were left astounded by its beauty and power - please, I beg you, just turn around and walk away.

Because Moderato Cantabile is nothing more than a fancy sounding name for a disappointingly vapid novella. It's a work that will make you deeply regret not knowing when to call it quits while the going was still good.

You'll find yourself plodding through its pages, hoping for some glimmer of the magic that you experienced in those other masterpieces. But alas, it never materializes. The story lacks depth, the characters are one-dimensional, and the writing fails to engage or inspire.

So save yourself the time and frustration. Put this book back on the shelf and seek out something that will truly satisfy your literary cravings.

The first time I read this writing style.

It was an unimportant and daily dialogue, extremely simple, between a woman and a man, and most of their meetings took place in a coffee shop.

The creation of this eternal love and the end of this strange and admirable story.

Warm regards, Mrs. Douras.

This simple dialogue seems to unfold a beautiful and ordinary love story. In the coffee shop, the man and the woman exchange their daily thoughts and feelings. Their conversations may not be earth-shattering, but they are filled with a kind of tenderness and warmth.

As the story progresses, we can sense the growth and deepening of their relationship.

Their love is not a passionate and intense one, but a quiet and lasting one.

It is like a gentle breeze that blows through our hearts, leaving a beautiful and unforgettable impression.

Mrs. Douras' warm regards add a touch of humanity and kindness to the story, making us feel that this is not just a fictional tale, but a real and touching story of love.

Dear friends, the main theme of this story is unrequited love... But this time, it is a kind of affection that is manifested through repetition within the two parties and suddenly disappears like a gust of wind in the middle of a storm and goes away... Doubts and a lot of suspicion do not allow the affection to reach a conclusion and love to occur between the two parties, and that excitement and enthusiasm remain incomplete without being realized... I don't know whether this can be called love or not.

The story is about a wealthy woman named . Every Friday, Madam Dubard takes her handicapped and helpless child to the piano teaching class of . But the poor child has no interest in the piano and piano teaching and always returns home dissatisfied. Interestingly, Madame Zebrow also feels a kind of emptiness and boredom in the presence of piano teaching.

Near Madam Dubard's house, there is a bar and a café where Madam Dubard sometimes goes and drinks red wine... One Friday, Madam Dubard is outside the café when she hears that a woman has been killed in a bloody incident. They tell her that the man who loved this woman killed her in this way.

Madam Dubard goes to the café, orders red wine, and gets drunk. Suddenly, a voice calls her name from behind... Madam turns around and sees a young man named . Showan was an employee of Madam's husband's trading company, but her husband fired him and he was dismissed.

Showan sits beside Madam and describes a bitter and romantic story for her... After that day, except for Fridays, Madam and Showan go to that café every day, drink, get drunk, and talk... Little by little, over time, these meetings and drunkenness turn into affection between the two, until.............................................. Dear friends, it is better for you to read this story yourself and find out the ending.

I hope this review has been sufficient and useful for getting to know this book.

Moderato Interessante
Review of the Calder Publications english translation (2018) of the French language original (1958)

I assume that this was some form of existentialist pondering on the futility of things. However, it failed to hold my interest. The short novella, which can probably be read in just a few hours, took me several days to finish. The premise in the synopsis initially made it sound fascinating. But as the mother continuously returns to the bar-cafe of the incident to listen to a local tell her what are likely fabricated stories about the murderous couple, it begins to have an unrealistic haze. Meanwhile, her son plays on the street outside without supervision. On Fridays, the son and mother go to his piano lesson, where he stubbornly refuses to understand the meaning of the musical instruction "moderato cantabile" (moderately, as if singing), despite playing the piano quite well. You suspect that it is all building up to something, but in the end, it just fizzles out.

I read Moderato Cantabile as part of my 2020 subscription to the Parisian independent bookstore's Year of Reading Lost Treasures. This subscription offers an excellent variety of curated choices, many of which are new to me. It has been an interesting journey exploring these lesser-known works, but unfortunately, Moderato Cantabile did not quite live up to my expectations.

Kao što je svaka knjiga Margaret Diras, ova je također čudna.

No, ipak mi se jako svidjela. Dajem joj 5⭐️ iz neobjašnjivih razloga.

Možda je to samo zato što mi je, iako bila dosta nejasna u nekim dijelovima, ipak bila bliska.

Kao da je ona nekako upisana u moje misli i osećanja.

Njeno pisanje je malo nezavršeno, ali to samo dodaje njezinoj atmosferi.

Čitajući je, osjećam se kao da sam u nekoj čudnoj, ali očajničko atraktivnoj svijesti.

Možda je to i taj "je nešto što ne mogu riješiti", ali me to ipak ne smeta.

Zato je ova knjiga jedna od onih koje ću sigurno ponovno pročitati.