The Sheltering Sky

I am a firm believer in the fact that when it comes to writing a book with unlikable characters, they must possess some kind of redeeming feature. There has to be something that makes the reader root for them. However, this particular book was充斥着terrible, racist, narcissistic, and incredibly boring characters. I simply couldn't bring myself to care about them or the existential crisis they were facing. The writing style was lackluster and uninteresting. I really had to struggle to finish reading this one.

I am awarding this book just one star because I can't think of anything positive that would persuade me to give it a higher rating. It failed to engage me on any level, and the characters were so unappealing that I had no investment in their story.

Perhaps if the author had given the characters some redeeming qualities or improved the writing, it might have been a more enjoyable read. But as it stands, this book is a disappointment.

Having seen the movie, which, of course, was uneven, I found myself in a state of hesitation when it came to reading this book.

I initially thought I just needed something I could casually flip through at the beach.

Moreover, there were quite a few rather negative reviews that it had received from my Goodreads friends, whose opinions I respect.

Well, in my very humble opinion (invho), this book is nearly flawless and is truly a work of near genius.

The overall conception is brilliant, the structure and composition are masterfully crafted, the depth of language is profound, and the intelligence it showcases is remarkable.

AND the depth of feeling that permeates every page is simply moving.

The development of characters and the progression of the plot are also nearly perfect.

I would, however, have suggested that the author handle the last 20 pages differently.

But aside from that, the rest of the book was just gorgeous, a literary gem that I thoroughly enjoyed.

This book is truly astonishing, although it drags a bit in the middle.

It begins almost like a screwball comedy, with a light-hearted and humorous tone. However, as the story progresses, it takes a much darker turn.

The author masterfully builds towards an ending that is both mesmerizing and terrifying, and completely unexpected.

The last 50 pages of this book are simply sublime. They are filled with cruelty and sadness, yet somehow, they feel exactly right.

The emotions and themes explored in these pages are so powerful that they will stay with you long after you have finished reading.

Overall, this is a book that is well worth reading, despite its slight flaw in the middle. It is a work of art that will leave you thinking and feeling long after you have turned the final page.

\n  Sensual Existentialism in the Sahara\n

4.5 stars



Someone once had said to her that the sky hides the night behind it, shelters the person beneath from the horror that lies above.

Port and Kit Moresby, a married couple with a physically and emotionally distant relationship, are traveling through northern Africa with their friend Tunner. Disgusted with post-WWII America and Europe, these "travellers" (Port is insistent on the difference from tourists) hope to discover meaning in the mystery of the Sahara.

Soon, a sort of love triangle begins to form (or perhaps a love rectangle, considering Port's nightly wanderings). The inscrutable desert quickly permeates the travellers' mood. It reveals the fragility of the bonds of marriage, friendship, and sanity, as the swirling dunes unwind these societal ties with their captivating magic. The descent leaves each person to their own meager resources, an internal struggle and a terrifying defeat.

Death is always on the way, but the fact that you don't know when it will arrive seems to take away from the finiteness of life. It's that terrible precision that we hate so much. But because we don't know, we get to think of life as an inexhaustible well.

The characters grapple with their connections to one another, fighting the urge to repair love while simultaneously having an equal urge to keep their distance. Truly separate, desolately alone, blind attempts at physical closeness punctuate the book, giving it a sensuality with an edge.

Now that he owned her completely, there was a new savageness, a kind of angry abandon in his manner. The bed was a wild sea, she lay at the mercy of its violence and chaos as the heavy waves toppled upon her from above. Why, at the height of the storm, did two drowning hands press themselves tighter and tighter about her throat? Tighter, until even the huge grey music of the sea was covered by a greater, darker noise - the roar of nothingness the spirit hears as it approaches the abyss and leans over.

This wouldn't be a complete review without using the descriptor 'hypnotic' when referring to Paul Bowles' writing. Although the plot isn't especially strong, the mood and atmosphere are all-encompassing and saturate every word, every buzzing fly, every bewildered expression, every stolen kiss. He whirls his readers around and pulls us helplessly along on this existential journey in the desert.

You're never humanity; you're only your own poor hopelessly isolated self.

A great writer is someone who has the ability to touch the hearts and minds of readers through their words. I have a deep love for all of his writings, as they are filled with profound insights and beautiful expressions. Among them, his short stories are truly outstanding. They are like precious gems that sparkle with unique charm and wisdom. Each short story is a masterpiece in its own right, carefully crafted and polished to perfection. The writer's mastery of language and storytelling is evident in every line, captivating the reader from the very beginning and leaving a lasting impression. He is indeed a master of his craft, and his works will continue to be cherished and studied for generations to come.

The coming of day holds the promise of a change. However, it is only when the day has fully dawned that the watcher realizes it might be the same day returning once again. It's the same day he has been living for a long time, over and over, still as blindingly bright and untarnished by time as ever. This thought-provoking description sets the tone for a story that delves deep into the human psyche.

Keeping a story like this at arm's length seems to be the best option for me at the moment. Otherwise, I might find myself falling down the rabbit hole of 'the meaning of life' and perhaps never emerging. If I had been seeking answers, I wouldn't have found them here anyway – at least not the kind of answers I would hope for. Instead, like the protagonists of this masterfully crafted novel, what I discovered was something bleak and terrifying.

The people in this story, with all their intellectual pretensions and philosophical discussions about the search for meaning, are actually quite damnable and shallow characters. I should have suspected this from the start. Port and Kit Moresby's marriage is in trouble, so they decide to take a trip to North Africa in the hope of mending the cracks in their relationship and perhaps finding the answers to life's big questions along the way. They also decide to bring their friend Tunner along. Well, that sounds like a recipe for disaster from the very beginning. Needing a third wheel to create a buffer when trying to sort out a marriage is not a good sign. It could easily lead to more problems.

There is a lot of self-reflection in this story, but with little or no regard for anyone outside the characters' own bubble. The poverty of the surroundings repels them, and they view the native people with suspicion and fear. They are outwardly rude and disrespectful to everyone else, yet they are so desperate to find meaning in their lives. It's almost like a crash course in the Existentialism of Self-Centered Persons. These are not the kind of characters one can easily feel sympathy for, no matter how hard one tries. I even began to compare this to W. Somerset Maugham's The Painted Veil, a book that, in hindsight, left me with a glimmer of hope for the redemption of a shallow life. But that didn't happen here, and perhaps that was the whole point. Sometimes, one really does have to pay the price for the way one lives.

The sky features prominently and thematically throughout the story, just as the title suggests. The blue sky, the blinding sun, and the stark whiteness of the architecture, made even more耀眼 by the unrelenting brilliance, constantly haunt the characters. What lies beyond the'sheltering sky'? What is it protecting them from? One can never run far enough to escape one's own inner turmoil.

Paul Bowles描绘城镇和沙漠的风景时，有着令人惊叹的意象，清晰而生动。读者被紧张的气氛、高度的警觉和日益加剧的心理恐惧所吸引。如果你没有被困在太阳和天空的强烈注视下，那么就只能走向内心，在那里一种幽闭恐惧症会紧紧抓住你。这部小说有一种超现实的感觉，尤其是在最后一部分。我承认，这也是作者让我有点困惑的地方。要解释原因就会涉及剧透，所以我就不多说了。鲍尔斯在营造氛围和将恐怖推向高潮方面表现出色。从那里开始，故事迅速走向孤立和疯狂。

“She sat there, frozen inside her skin, knowing all at once that she did not know anything – neither where nor what she was; there was a slight, impossible step that must be taken toward one side or the other before she could be back in focus.”

I found the third part of this book to be pure genius. What Kit endures after she abandons her husband Port to his death is truly unimaginable. However, Bowles portrays it with such remarkable vividness that you feel as if you are an integral part of the experience.

I have this intense infatuation with understanding what life is like in Northern Africa, particularly in Morocco. I'm extremely glad that I read this book, despite the fact that it was written so long ago.

It is precisely the kind of book that will withstand the test of time. It has a certain charm and depth that makes it relevant and engaging even in the present day. The story, the characters, and the setting all come together to create a truly unforgettable literary experience.

Katherine, Portman, and Tunner are seeking the meaning of life in the vastness of the desert. However, life catches up with them. It is a novel about the good or bad choices that make up our lives. A choice that has been labeled as "bad" has taken the form of a guilt that later materializes into fear and then into flight. We cannot escape from ourselves and the choices we have made at a certain point. Acceptance of what has been and what is gives us the strength to move forward.

“Before I was twenty, that is, I imagined that life was something that continuously gained momentum with each passing moment. That it became richer and deeper every year. You could learn more and more, become wiser and wiser, have more intuition, and move closer to the truth...”

He seemed to hesitate.

Port burst out laughing.

“And now you realize that it's not like that, right? It's more like the smoke of a cigarette. When you take the first puffs, it tastes wonderful and it never crosses your mind that it will end. Then you start to take it as it is, good or bad. And suddenly you discover that you've smoked it almost to the filter. Only then do you become aware of its bitter taste.”

*

“You know,” Port said, and his voice seemed unreal, as voices do after a long period of silence, “the sky here is very strange. I often have the sensation, when I look at it, that there is something solid up there that protects us from what is beyond.”

...

“You know something?” he said with great confidence. “I think we're both afraid of the same thing. And for the same reason. Neither of us has ever really managed to fully enter life. We hang on the outside, as good as we are, convinced that we will fall at the next blow.”

“A strange and hypnotic masterpiece,” says David Lodge about Tea in the Sahara, and I am inclined to say that it comes close to what I felt when reading it.