I've been meaning to read this book ever since the Malkovich-Winger film (never seen it) came out. I rescued an original hardback copy (minus the dust cover) somewhere and started last night. It reminds me a bit of Hemingway and that Antonioni film "The Passenger."

I confess to feeling left out mentally when the author goes into his frequent (though usually brief - thankfully) - spiritual/intellectual/psychic digressions. Otherwise, the writing is fine, though with the feeling of being from another world, a past world. Good God - almost a hundred years ago now...

I'm finally getting back into the swing of the reading thing after a two-week sickness hiatus. I picked up the thread again last night as Kit and Port and the unwanted Tunner wander around northern Algeria looking for some substance for their own lives and their marriage (Kit and Port). Things are picking up and the writing is excellent as the author describes the stark contrasts between N. African filth and transcendence.

Port makes a mistake - he accuses the wrong person of theft. Now he's getting sick and doesn't seem to notice. Programmed for disaster. Kit? A rootless waif...

This continues to be a dreary, depressing book as Kit and, especially Port begin to circle the drain. I think she survives and he does not. He's sick already, likely made so (possibly) by the Arab he falsely accused of stealing his passport. The beautifully written book, especially the descriptions of both the natural and human environments of North Africa.

- I have NO idea why or how those underlined blue words came into being. Never happened before!

Port is now near death and Kit will soon be at the mercy of some scary N. African people. I know this (I think) from reading a film review many years ago. Still dreary, but redeemed by the writing. Very effective...

Finished last night with this relentlessly gloomy book. The dominant color scheme seems to be whatever shows in moonlight. The writing IS special, however, though the point of it all is a muddle to me. Something about what happens when cluelessly drifting people deliberately cut themselves off from their home culture and environment and wind up in a not-so-cuddly place. Then the planet can come to seem very dangerous and hostile, as indeed N. Africa came to be for our two travelers. The story was reminiscent of an even creepier and nastier story from Bowles, also set in N. Africa, in which a boorish Westerner gets kidnapped by some VERY NASTY caravan people and is subjected to some REALLY horrible treatment. Like Kit, he lost his mind, though I suppose there was a chance that Kit might regain her sanity in time. She wasn't really abused anyway, and more or less embraced her role as sex slave. Not sure what that was all about either.

So... I suppose the whole thing was a bit dated. The plot reminded me a bit of that strange Cornel Wilde movie "The Naked Prey," also set in NW Africa (I think). I also found a suggestion of "Blood Meridian"...

- 3.5* rounds down to 3*

The Sheltering Sky, with its rather unappealing Greek title Τσάι στη Σαχάρα, has truly left me with a complex mix of emotions. Throughout the entire reading process, the word that constantly flickered in my mind was detachment. The main characters, who are not particularly likable, seem to be detached from one another. And, interestingly enough, the reader also feels a sense of detachment from them. Their personalities, along with their most personal and deeply hidden thoughts, are presented to the reader as if in a shadowplay, observed from a distance. As a result, it never feels close enough to truly establish a connection.

Of course, this is deliberately crafted in such a way and is an essential part of the book's nature. However, it's important to note that this style may not resonate with everyone. After the middle of the story, it takes a turn towards the darker and more obscure aspects of the human mind. I must admit that Bowles has done an outstanding job in depicting the guilt and the ultimate self-punishment that stems from the aforementioned detachment.

The funny thing is that the more I write about this novel, the more I come to appreciate the genius within it. Nevertheless, the fact remains that while reading it, it often felt like I was reading about something that I didn't really have a genuine interest in. Despite this, I still believe it's a book that I would recommend to most people.

This is yet another book that has been sitting unread on my shelf, gathering dust.

I might have delved into it earlier if I had known that the storytelling would involve some juicy cat-fighting and those nasty, conniving, covert backstabbing, self-destructing characters!!

I truly loved the book, and yet, at the same time, I had an aversion to the characters.

I couldn't help but laugh at symbolic sentences like, "The dining room was unfriendly and formal to a degree which is acceptable only when the service is impeccable; this was not the case here. I'd break out in laughter as I thought, 'It WAS OUR RICH AMERICANS-- the central characters - who were UNFRIENDLY', and the dining room itself was perfectly fine!!!

Oh, this book is really good - juicy good! I also call 'East of Eden' juicy good, and it's one of my favorite books! So, what I'm trying to say is that I LIKED THIS BOOK, despite how disturbing, dark, and depressing it is. It's like the Sahara itself, dreary and dismal.

The introduction by Tobias Wolff in the 65th anniversary paperback is excellent. It provided me with a great framework about the illusion of free will and how it relates to the novel that Paul Bowles wrote.

I never expected there to be so much drama!!!

I haven't been to North Africa, but I have been to India. Back in the early 70s, I traveled for much the same reasons as these Americans did in this book - to get away from AMERICA and all that it stood for. I later realized that I was not only leaving the country to'see the world' (which I did), but I was also running from myself. However, in time, I learned the big lesson that there is no place to run. There is no sacred or'magical' place on this planet that can allow you to escape yourself.

This is a FANTASTIC book - complex, with much to contemplate and examine. It's heartbreaking and disturbing, yet passionate and loving, often chaotic and crazy.

However, as great as it was, and as much as I related to it from my own travel experiences in the early 70s, I'm guessing that if Paul Bowles wrote this book today, in 2017, a few things would be different.

Gorgeous writing!!!

This book is not intended for those experiencing an existential crisis. It presents a captivating and desolate account of the journey of a young American couple across North Africa.

They embark on this adventure without a plan or a schedule, deliberately avoiding being mistaken for tourists. As the author writes, “Whereas the tourist generally hurries back home at the end of a few weeks or months, the traveler belonging no more to one place than to the next, moves slowly over periods of years, from one part of the earth to another. Indeed, he would have found it difficult to tell, among the many places he had lived, precisely where it was he had felt most at home.”

In the initial pages, I was rather irritated by both characters. Their contempt for ordinary tourists and their snobbish demeanor, all while constantly desiring drinks and cigars – of American or European brands, of course – grated on me. However, as I delved deeper into the book, my feelings towards them began to change. I started to pity them. They are two lost souls, using travel in a futile attempt to find meaning in life and overcome the fear of death – and clearly failing.

The book contains profound and poignant quotes such as, “How fragile we are under the sheltering sky. Behind the sheltering sky is a vast dark universe, and we're just so small.” and “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. Yet everything happens a certain number of times, and a very small number, really.”

Despite its bleakness, the book is also beautiful. It offers a hidden advice to live in the present and savor the moment, as stated in the line, “One never took the time to savour the details; one said: another day, but always with the hidden knowledge that each day was unique and fatal, that there never would be a return, another time.”

Overall, this book is a thought-provoking exploration of life, death, and the human condition.

What despicable characters.

The book tells of three Americans (a husband and wife plus a friend of the couple) who go to Africa to spend some time as "travellers and not tourists" (as the husband likes to specify). They seem like three rich and spoiled Westerners, without a shred of moral values. I won't go into details to avoid spoilers, but despite their adventures, none of the three managed to arouse in me a bit of compassion or empathy. They are of a disarming baseness. Not only them, but also two other Westerners (a mother and son) that we meet on a couple of occasions. Their philosophical elucubrations on life, death and love are flat and banal; nothing profound, original or appreciable.

I can't understand what the author wanted to communicate. The lack of values of human beings? Or perhaps only of Westerners? Did he want to express his opinions on life and death? Maybe the central theme is love, dealt with through the marital crisis of the Americans? Two egocentrics who don't meet each other to solve their problems?

Unfortunately, I didn't understand it, so I wasn't even able to appreciate the story. Some beautiful descriptions of the desert or the villages, but nothing more.

A disappointment.

I had come across this book being lauded as one of the finest novels about travel, and my eagerness to read it knew no bounds. The setting of the Sahara had intrigued me deeply, and I was curious to discover the much-praised prose that the book was said to possess.

Three distant and wealthy individuals - a young couple (whose marriage is blatantly on the verge of collapse) and their so-called friend (whom neither of them particularly likes) - make the decision to embark on a journey in Northern Africa. World War II has just concluded, and it appears that none of them truly know what to do with their lives. The husband is overcome by wanderlust, the wife is neurotic, and the friend is an oaf. They encounter characters who are almost interesting, but nothing ever materializes from these encounters. Eventually, the exotic locations and hints of a plot are set aside in favor of barren lands and disease, and the book descends into emotional numbness and existential ponderings. Bowles does present some nice turns of phrase and a couple of great moments of philosophy during these existential sections, but it simply wasn't sufficient to make me ultimately enjoy the book.

Adding to the frustration is the fact that, after a tragedy befalls our characters, the entire book takes a detour that feels unrealistic and borders on being a cliché. Bowles expends so much effort in illustrating his characters' mindsets during the first part of the novel that their sudden post-trauma shift seems completely contrary to everything he initially established. I understand that a person can experience a mental breakdown during difficult times, but the wife's journey during the last third of the book was more like a bad Laura Gemser movie than true "literature".

In the end, I will remember this book as one in which bad things happened to people I didn't like in desolate and fly-infested places, interrupted by rare moments of good writing.

The hot tea gave her a bit of strength. She drank it all and remained there for a while, listening to the wind.

The warm liquid coursed through her body, invigorating her tired spirit. As she sat there, the gentle breeze blew, whispering secrets through the trees. The sound of the wind was both soothing and mysterious, as if it was carrying tales from faraway places.

She closed her eyes and let herself be carried away by the moment, forgetting for a while the troubles that had burdened her. The tea and the wind combined to create a peaceful atmosphere, allowing her to find a moment of tranquility in the chaos of her life.

She knew that soon she would have to face the world again, but for now, she was content to simply listen to the wind and let the warmth of the tea soak into her bones.

The Sheltering Sky is Paul Bowles' first novel, and it is an extremely impressive debut. It tells the story of a young couple who are attempting to resolve their marital issues. However, their problems become infinitely more complicated during an epic voyage.

This novel is a great (and relatively fast) read, and it is very entertaining. The story is engaging and keeps the reader hooked from beginning to end.

But don't just take my word for it. When the novel came out, it was reviewed by Tennessee Williams, who had a lot of praise for it. You can read his review here.

If you're looking for a good novel that will keep you entertained and engaged, then The Sheltering Sky is definitely worth checking out. It's a great example of Paul Bowles' writing talent and is sure to leave a lasting impression on you.

Numbnut tourists, longing to break free from the tedium of a bourgeois marriage in the immediate post-World War II era, explore all the harsh realities that the desert has to offer.

We enter a different narrative mode when the story begins with the husband awakening to reflect on an "infinite sadness at the core of his consciousness" (3) or again on "a sense of infinite sadness and repose" (127). Regarding the sky as a "gateway to repose" (245), he thinks "it's a solid thing up there, protecting us from what's behind" (100) - the'sheltering sky' of the title. He desires to "Reach out, pierce the fine fabric of the sheltering sky, take repose" (245).

When quarreling with his spouse during their trip to the Sahara, his remedy is to wander among the locals, taking a "perverse pleasure" in walking among a "forbidden element" (16), and ultimately hiring a sex worker in the most unsavory place. This is part of his theory of travel. He differentiates between a tourist and a traveler, stating that the former hurries home after a short time, while the latter moves slowly, over years, from one part of the earth to another. The war also left its mark, and he is surprised to find a café with only Arabs, thinking the war had changed everything. The war's effect may have been to draw the old colonial spheres into the post-war liberal order, which ushers in a Heideggerian one-dimensionality.

The husband initially believes that "suffering is equally divided among all men" (15), but later his belief changes. The desert seems to have transformed him from an egalitarian naïf to a worldly ubermensch. His nihilism is evident in his journal and his thoughts about Europe. The wife, on the other hand, is a semiurgical nihilist, similar to the protagonists of Generation X. She dislikes dreams and relies on mystical omens. Their respective nihilisms are based on their lack of a regular life and their economic independence.

The insertion of a third person into their marriage creates a classical situation. The wife has an affair and eventually escapes into the open desert alone, only to be taken by other travelers and subjected to an "increasingly proprietary attitude" (288). The husband develops a colonialist's proprietary attitude, and the novel highlights the problem of post-war "colonial government." The Sahara is not only a physical landscape but also a moral one, with its "famous silence" (209) and the power to absolve. In confrontation with the desert, all philosophic systems crumble. For its survivors, the desert becomes the default condition of the entire world.

This novel is recommended for those who are filled with the sadness of deracinated things, those subject to the meaningless hegemony of the involuntary, and readers who gaze into the abyss of yesterday.

In this captivating novel, a husband, wife, and a somewhat ambiguous friend of theirs embark on a journey around North Africa. Set in the 1940s, it is essential to understand the context of the sometimes awkward and semi-racist descriptions of the "natives." One can choose to either give the characters some leeway in light of the era or view them as they are.

Nevertheless, the book effectively portrays arrogant and neurotic Americans thrust into a hostile and alien world.

A great deal of turmoil unfolds. Initially, one might assume that they are merely observing the breakdown of a marriage or the intricacies of relationships. However, these issues pale in comparison to the perils that surround the travelers. It is almost as if one envisioned the worst possible scenarios that could occur while in a foreign land, and then they all came to pass. The story plays out much like a nightmare, making it a compelling read as we witness the downward spirals of all the main characters.

It keeps the reader on the edge of their seat, eager to discover what will happen next and how the characters will ultimately fare in this dangerous and unfamiliar environment.

Every once in a while, you come across a book that is truly beyond 5 stars.

For me, such an occurrence is not that common. However, this particular book is one of those rare gems.

The last time I rated a book in this way was "The Road" by Cormac McCarthy.

This book is a captivating blend of mystery, intrigue, darkness, danger, exceptionality, and love.

It is a story that demands to be read again soon, in order to fully absorb all of its beauty.

It has left a deep and lasting impression on me, one that I will not soon forget.

I am eager to embark on this rereading journey and discover even more of the hidden treasures within its pages.

It is a book that I highly recommend to anyone who is looking for a truly unforgettable reading experience.

“(…) They made the fatal mistake of vaguely considering time as if it didn't exist. One year was the same as the next. Finally, everything would come.” Hahaha, I added this last part.

Time, life, the fleetingness of life, the lack of respect for days, minutes, every instant. That, I believe, is the message of the book. Every instant is unique, every company too. No one is completely in control of their destiny; in just a moment, everything changes.

“And it occurred to him that a walk in the countryside was a kind of epitome of the passage through life. One never took the time to savor the details; one said: another day will be, but always with the secret conviction that each day was unique and definitive, that there would never be another time, another return.”

The vicissitudes of these Western explorers in the Saharan Africa give good faith of how everything can be disrupted in a sigh, without prior notice. I liked that radical change of register in the narration and the powerful message that Bowles only hints at.

“One must not think about what has ended - the words comforted her, although she didn't remember what it was that had ended - Women always think about what has ended, not about what is beginning. Here we say: life is like a cliff. When you climb, never look back, it's bad.”

There is a lot of existentialism and contained suffering.

I handled an edition in which the translator is Aurora Bernardez, the wife of Julio Cortázar and translator of Paul Bowles, magnificent; I caught some small porteño turns that I loved and I found myself halfway through the story looking for the name of the translator.