Always sign me up for Annie Dillard. Her words are truly beautiful. Annie Dillard has a remarkable gift for using language in the most enchanting and captivating way.

When one reads her works, it's as if they are being transported into a world of vivid imagery and profound emotions.

Her descriptions are so detailed and precise that they paint a picture in the reader's mind that is both stunning and unforgettable.

Whether she is writing about nature, human experiences, or the mysteries of life, Annie Dillard's words have the power to touch the heart and inspire the soul.

She has a unique ability to find beauty in the simplest of things and to express complex ideas in a way that is accessible and engaging.

For those who appreciate the art of writing, Annie Dillard is a must-read. Her words are like a precious gem that shines brightly and leaves a lasting impression.

So, always sign me up for Annie Dillard, for her words are a source of inspiration and a joy to behold.

The Bohemian lifestyle on Cape Cod is vividly and compellingly described in Dillard's work. The characters she presents are indeed quite unusual, and they have the power to evoke a strong sense of empathy from the reader.

However, a number of reviews have raised valid complaints about the book. Some of the character traits seem rather unbelievable. For instance, Lou and Toby, a married couple, are depicted as never quarreling, which is highly unlikely in real life. Additionally, certain plot points lack realism. Take Deary, for example, who suddenly undergoes a transformation from a nomadic beachcomber to a savvy businesswoman without any plausible explanation. Moreover, a few of Dillard's metaphors come across as clumsy and confusing, detracting from the overall reading experience.

I would further argue that the character of Toby, who takes in and cares for her husband's lover in her dying days, is simply not believable to me. But then again, perhaps this is a quirk of the Cape Cod lifestyle that I am not familiar with.

Furthermore, some of the words Dillard uses, such as "albedo," "lagniappe," "fletching," and "skeg," seem to serve only to showcase her somewhat arrogant use of language. These words may add a touch of exoticism, but they can also alienate the reader and make the text seem overly pretentious.

Dense, tricky, and poetic - that's the nature of this work. So far, it has a certain allure. She quotes Robert Louis Stevenson, saying that 'Marriage is "a sort of friendship recognised by the police" '.

Well, I can envision readers having mixed feelings about this. Some might call it pretentious or pompous, as it delves into the big questions of love, life, and death. It employs sometimes obscure words. For me, anyway, I had to look up a few, like "alewife", and after doing so, I realized how fitting they were. The narrative flows, yet it jumps years and years, leaving out important stages. It directly quotes philosophers and thinkers, which disrupts the action.

However, I couldn't stop talking about it to my wife. We were sitting on a beach, appropriately so since the story is set in a beach house or shack in New England. I quoted the lush and accurate descriptions of the beach and sea, as well as her quotes about marriage. It does offer the satisfactions of a novel. The characters are superbly described, especially their ailments. It seems to breathe with you, or perhaps you breathe with it eventually, feeling delighted, scared, and constantly thinking about the beauty and harshness of life, especially death.

I could quote from it endlessly. But here's a sample (chosen at random): She shipwrecked on the sheets. She surfaced like a dynamited bass. She opened her eyes and discovered where on their bed she had fetched up.

This was truly a heavy burden for me.

Perhaps I simply lack the intellectual capacity to fully grasp the dense language or the profound thinking and philosophy within the book.

Although it is a relatively short book in terms of page count, it is by no means a quick read.

I also detest it when highly educated authors attempt to flaunt their intellect by peppering their narratives with quotes or having their characters spout quotations left and right, ranging from Tolstoy and Kafka to some ancient philosophers.

Moreover, I don't easily understand the meanings of words such as Pauciloquoys, Desideratum, Meemie, Quailing, and Ephemera.

The sentence construction also trips me up. For example, "They rented on the Maine Island they saw with Sooner Roy." What did they see? What did they rent - a mansion, a house, an apartment, a cabin, a shack, or a boat?

I ultimately gave up after finishing two-thirds of the book as neither the story nor the characters managed to captivate my interest.

It seems that this particular book is just not for me.

I'm a huge enthusiast of Annie Dillard's works. I first came across the recommendation of this book in a book by Joe Queenan, namely "One for the Books", and then it also appeared on a Boston Globe summer reading list. However, jumping between genres is a rather challenging task. And I don't think the non-fiction maestro Dillard makes a seamless transition to the novel.

First and foremost, the book spans the entire lifetimes of its main characters but is only a mere 216 pages (in paperback). This implies that Dillard leans more towards the "telling" mode rather than the "showing" mode. It also means that the plot is rather insignificant. Moreover, characterization, which is usually the saving grace in such books, is just average. There is a certain coolness about the young couple Maytree and Lou. And really, did we have to name the female lead "Lou"? It took me approximately 215 pages to get accustomed to that.

In the middle of the book, there is an odd time jump to the characters' last years before it reverts to its regular narrative. The reader, who is choking in the dust of the time machine, can only cough out "What the...?" before persevering.

At least we are treated to some beautiful Annie Dillard nature writing. In this case, her setting is Provincetown, MA, on the Cape right after the war. There are the ocean, the sand, and the stars. And it was beneficial to read this book in long sittings. Telling books don't fare as well in short intervals.

Overall, I'm glad I read it, even though I didn't fall in love with it.

Gorgeous. Transporting.

I've spent the past few days on a New England beach, walking along the sand dunes and deeply contemplating what it truly means to love.

The beauty of the beach is simply breathtaking. The soft sand beneath my feet, the gentle lapping of the waves, and the warm sun shining down all combine to create a magical atmosphere.

As I walk, my mind wanders, and I find myself reflecting on the many different aspects of love. Love can be passionate and intense, like a wildfire that consumes everything in its path. It can also be gentle and nurturing, like a warm embrace on a cold day.

I could fill a notebook with quotes about love, each one capturing a different essence of this powerful emotion. But perhaps the most important thing I've learned is that love is something that must be experienced to be truly understood.

It's not just about words or feelings; it's about actions and sacrifices. It's about being there for someone through thick and thin, and always putting their needs before your own.

As I continue my walk along the beach, I feel a sense of peace and contentment wash over me. I know that I still have a long way to go in understanding love, but for now, I'm just happy to be here, in this moment, experiencing its beauty and power.

I have always been a great admirer of Dillard's nonfiction works. So, when I came across this small fictional book published in 2007, I immediately snatched it up.

Describing this book is no easy task. It is elegant, evocative, quiet, and poetic. It's not the kind of book that keeps you on the edge of your seat, turning the pages frantically. However, sometimes that's just fine. This is definitely a book that demands to be read slowly and savored, as you need to soak up all the beautiful imagery it presents.

The plot centers around a young couple, the Maytrees. Dillard takes us through their courtship and the early days of their marriage, which is suddenly disrupted when Toby Maytree inexplicably leaves his wife Lou and their son Petie for another woman. Decades later, when that woman is on her deathbed, Toby, who has fallen and broken several bones and is unable to care for her himself, brings her back to Lou and Petie for nursing care. Lou's response forms the final quarter of the book.

I found it quite challenging to rate this book. I have a feeling that if I were to read it a second time, I might enjoy it even more. It's not a book for everyone, and while the very quiet plot may not overwhelm you, you should still read The Maytrees just to experience Dillard's remarkable language. Here's a random example: "As a boy, Pete noticed that old people like Reevadare Weaver and Cornelius Blue could horrifyingly persist in oldness for decade after decade, no end in sight, without shame. Old people were those who lacked the will to leave, or the tact to know, when their party was over. At thirty-two he had begun the rocketry recalibration of what constitutes old people--whose merry ranks he did not plan, in any case, to join. Drowning at sea was a likely option. Better, when the time came, was shooting himself. This was America."

No doubt that a significant part of my enjoyment of this novel stems from several factors. Firstly, it is Annie Dillard's last original work. Secondly, it is set in Provincetown, Massachusetts. And thirdly, I read the majority of it in a literalist manner while on vacation in P-town. Reading this beside a private pool, in the clean air of the bay, was truly a delight.

Old Cape Cod is beautiful, and the prose here is equally so. It is typical Dillard stuff, being gorgeous, lush, and tight all at once. Her descriptions of the natural world, whether in detail or in passing, remain as elegant as ever. The love between Toby and Lou Maytree, among other loves in the book, is truly one for the ages. It is not overdone; rather, it is born of friendship, admiration, and the beauty found in the ordinary. It would be perfect for a pristine little art film. Who needs that epic new take on Dune when you could have the dunes of the Cape, along with all the follies, maladies, tragedies, and triumphs that occur on them, transferred to the silver screen?

The dialogue is spare, and notably, there are no quote marks throughout. Even as the characters' internal monologues are long, vivid, and forgiving, both of themselves and others. I would like to think about myself and to myself in the way that some of these people do. It's a pity they're not real and never have been, but for just over 200 pages (my favorite length for any book, especially a novel), they came to life for me. I kept imagining that I saw them around that tiny oceanside hamlet. I continuously envisioned a film version of the book in my mind as I walked those blocks and visited the crab-tastic eateries, galleries, and shops. The only small disappointment for me was the conclusion on the last page, which had been hyped up by a reviewer or two. I read it several times, and perhaps I didn't fully understand it, but it had a bit less of a payoff than I had hoped for - perhaps just as any idyllic vacation must inevitably come to an end.

I couldn't bring myself to complete this novel.

Upon initially reading Dillard's prose, I found it to be overly laborious.

The main characters she created seemed too precious, lacking the ability to be related to on a deeper level and not fully embodying the essence of being human.

Moreover, their friends appeared to be more of an invention rather than real individuals.

However, I did have a certain liking for the passages that delved into the husband's literary life.

These sections provided a glimmer of interest and added a touch of authenticity to the overall narrative.

Despite this, the novel as a whole failed to capture my attention and hold my interest until the very end.

Perhaps with a different writing style or more developed characters, it could have been a more engaging read.

As it stands, I遗憾地 couldn't finish it.

Usually when I embark on reading Annie Dillard's works, I find myself constantly reaching for the dictionary. However, this time, I decided to let the unfamiliar words wash over and past me like gentle wavelets. Words like "catenary," "culch," and "anemometer" seem to dance off the pages. How on earth does she know so many words? Reading her feels like swimming in refreshingly bracing water.

Her prose is incredibly spare, often foregoing articles. I highly doubt there's a single adverb in the entire 216 pages. Yet, there are bright flashes of quirky, restrained humor that add a unique charm.

"The Maytrees" is a beautiful love story, with the main character being Lou Maytree. Midway through the book, after experiencing a devastating betrayal, the silent and thoughtful Lou rises to the occasion with enormous strength and discipline. She tends to her mind like a garden, ruthlessly pruning out any tiny shoots of resentment or blame before they can take root and grow. When the people who betrayed her return many years later to ask an unimaginable favor of her, she is able to do it with perfect large-hearted generosity.

But that's just the story. The true beauty lies in the telling of it: the author's matchless descriptions of place, view, sensation, and consciousness. There's something in Dillard's writing that I find a little cold and perhaps alien to my own world view. Nevertheless, I am in awe of her intelligence and skill, the time she takes to describe what she sees with total originality.

Dillard's writing is truly a remarkable blend of beauty and haunting, confusion and comfort.

As you embark on reading this book, it feels as if you are eavesdropping on the soft murmurs of the adults' conversation when it is long past your bedtime, yet you remain wide awake, snugly wrapped in your blankets.

The words seem to dance on the page, creating a vivid tapestry of emotions and images that both entrance and perplex.

You find yourself drawn into a world where the ordinary becomes extraordinary, and the familiar takes on a new and mysterious guise.

Dillard's prose has the power to transport you to a place where you can explore the depths of your own thoughts and feelings, while also experiencing the beauty and wonder of the world around you.

Whether you are seeking solace in the midst of chaos or simply looking for a captivating read, this book is sure to leave a lasting impression.

Dillard is indeed an amazing writer, and this work definitely doesn't deserve less than three stars. However, I couldn't help but notice a pattern. I thoroughly enjoyed the first two-thirds of each of her books, but then I was hit with a crushing disappointment in the final third.

I absolutely detested how obnoxious and unlikable Maytree was. It was truly a chore to follow him throughout the entire novel. On the other hand, I really liked Lou's character. I loved seeing how she started living for herself after Maytree left her. But then, for some inexplicable reason, she got back together with him in the end. Ugh!

If you're interested in reading something by Dillard, it would be better to explore her nonfiction works instead. Her nonfiction is often just as engaging and thought-provoking as her fiction, but without the let-down in the final third.