Justine is a captivating journey through the mazes of love and desire, set in the decadent and enchanting Alexandria of the pre-World War II period.

Justine, the first novel of Lawrence Durrell's acclaimed Alexandria Quartet, is a fascinating and ambitious work that invites readers to immerse themselves in the complexities of the emotional, intellectual, and sensual life of a cosmopolitan Alexandria. Although no exact date is mentioned, Durrell places the action in what appears to be the 1930s, in a vibrant and decadent city that not only serves as a backdrop but becomes a character in itself, filled with mystery, exoticism, and cultural and political tensions.

One of the central themes of the novel is love and desire, represented through relationships that are not only passionate but also obsessive and self-destructive. The narrator, a penniless young Irish teacher, is drawn into a world of complex relationships, where his lover Melissa, a sad Greek dancer, and the enigmatic Justine, a Jewish woman married to a Coptic millionaire named Nessim,占据中心位置. Throughout his experience, the narrator witnesses events that will test the limits of love, betrayal, and personal redemption. These relationships, complex and full of tension, are just one facet of a broader universe in which emotions, jealousy, and ambiguity play an essential role.

However, what makes Justine an exceptional work is not so much its plot but the way it is told. Durrell employs a narrative technique that allows memories to be presented in a free flow without a strict chronological order. This non-linear approach allows the story to be slowly constructed as the reader pieces together the past and the present. The structure of the novel presents moments that emerge and disappear like parts of a puzzle that the reader must complete. This style can be demanding. There is no formal structure sought, nor is the story intended to be easy to follow. Durrell also does not facilitate the immediate understanding of the multiple cultural and philosophical references that he weaves into his work. If the reader overlooks some subtle reference, so be it, but for those willing to commit, the reward is enormous. This lack of accessibility may discourage those who prefer more direct readings, but it also offers a deep reading experience where details and sensations come to life through Durrell's lyrical and poetic prose.

The introspective and melancholic voice of the narrator gives the novel a tone of constant self-examination. His subjective perspective highlights another of the great themes of the work: the impossibility of arriving at an objective truth in human relationships. Perception is malleable and is shaped by the emotions and desires of each individual, which makes reality elusive and ambiguous. The motives and actions of the characters, including those of the narrator himself, are shrouded in a haze of uncertainty that never completely dissipates.

Durrell's style is lush, with poetic descriptions that transport the reader to the landscapes and atmospheres of Alexandria. The city is presented as a place where the sensual and the decadent, even the miserable, are irresistibly intertwined, and each scene is charged with a visual beauty that highlights the emotions of the characters. The richness of the prose, although sometimes dense, allows the reader to fully immerse in this labyrinthine world. The slow rhythm of the narrative allows one to savor each detail, each intimate moment, and each poetic reflection, in a work that demands to be read with attention and enjoyment.

Throughout the novel, the narrator's evolutionary arc is constructed through reflection and introspection rather than through a linear progression of events. The focus is on his personal understanding of relationships and himself, rather than on a defined plot. Although the story itself may seem scattered, the emotional development of the narrator is the true engine of the work, leading him to a deeper understanding of the people around him, especially Justine, whose magnetism remains the center of his fascination.

Durrell also explores themes of power and manipulation in relationships, as well as the impact of cultural and religious differences on the lives of the characters. Justine, for example, is not only a woman desired but a figure who encapsulates the tensions of a city and an era where identities and loyalties, in all senses, are constantly in play.

The novel is undoubtedly a unique experience. The fragmented structure and the poetic language make Justine a reading that challenges the reader but also rewards him with a rich and complex vision of life in Alexandria and the inner struggles of its characters. Despite the initial apparent disorientation, each fragment, each memory, and each reflection is carefully designed to offer a kaleidoscopic image of reality.

In summary, Justine is not only the beginning of a tetralogy but a monumental work in itself, distinguished by its emotional depth, its stylistic boldness, and its ability to capture the most intimate shadows of human desire. With this novel, Lawrence Durrell created a narrative universe that challenges traditional expectations and invites the reader to enter a world as beautiful as it is disturbing.

I recommend Justine to readers who enjoy lyrical prose and the depth of complex themes related to love and identity. However, those who prefer linear and accessible plots may find the reading demanding and challenging.

1001 Libros que hay que leer antes de morir: N.º 160 de 1001

This book is a display of sensuality on all sides. I don't say this because of the sex, of which there is a great deal and which is much talked about, but because of how it is talked about, how it is theorized and constructed from it, how its delicious emanations permeate every scene and every idea, how philosophy is created from it. Alexandria, as the cosmopolitan and bohemian city it was before World War II, where diplomats, writers, refugees, swindlers, merchants, and musicians met in its crowded bazaars and cafes, stands as the perfect backdrop for constructing a love plot between the narrator and the incomprehensible Justine, who tries to exorcize an inner demon through, surprise, sex.

I can't say much more about the novel, except that if it weren't written this well, I would have given up on it at page fifty. And not because of prudishness, please, but because the story, as such, is almost nonexistent except in the last part, when it gains a lot of weight and hooks a little more. Of course, this is not a novel in which the story is the protagonist, as it is not for, for example, Javier Marías, who once the discreet plot thread is presented, lets it unfold without it really mattering much what we will find at the end of it: it doesn't matter getting to Ithaca, but what the journey brought - don't mess with me, if Durrell does it, I can also quote Cavafis. In my case, Justine has brought me numerous and imaginative ways of talking about the sexual act, its preludes, its knots and endings, with a precious language, because here one comes to make love, not to fuck. However, I haven't been able to extract much more from this novel, and I don't think I will continue with the rest of the quartet. My Spartan sensibility does not allow me to delve much further into the mysteries of Lawrence Durrell, of which I am sure a reader more accustomed to this type of literature will know how to enjoy and delight.

Just to finish, it amuses me to think about how that older brother, an aspiring writer so petulant and cantankerous that a young Gerald Durrell described in My Family and Other Animals could have become this Lawrence Durrell, so nymphomaniac.

I have been yearning to read the Alexandria Quartet for numerous years, and now appears to be an opportune moment.

The initial part of the Quartet centers around a striving writer, Darley. It retrospectively narrates the story of a fated love affair between Darley and Justine, the wife of an Egyptian Copt named Nessim. Set in Alexandria, it features a strong supporting cast of characters. There's Pombal, an official at the French consulate who resides with Darley. Capodistria, a Greek broker, Scobie, a transvestite, and Pursewarden, another novelist. Clea and Balthazar have their own novels as well.

The writing is exquisitely poetic and rich, enabling you to sense the shimmering heat of Alexandria along with its scents, colors, and sounds. The city is almost like another character, a city of dreams and lost horizons. The entire work is magical, erotic, and deeply influenced by Freud. The poetry of Cavafy at the end is particularly fitting.

The events are not presented in chronological order, yet there is coherence among them. The setting is in the 1930s. This is merely the first installment, and the tale is retold in the remaining parts of the Quartet. However, the imagery is as enchanting and dreamlike as the city. There is also a significant amount of symbolism, and Melissa, Darley's lover, has a central and sacrificial role. It is undoubtedly one of the most beautifully written books I have ever read. But I believe there is a longing and searching at its core that remains unresolved in this volume.

All of life is encapsulated here, and I simply can't wait for the next one.

Soluksuz okunur muydu bilmiyorum.

To be honest, it really gave me a hard time because of the wrong time for the right book.

Still, it was so beautiful that I couldn't bring myself to put it aside to read at another time.

I said I would finish it by reading little by little, and moreover, the long gaps I inserted in the process didn't cause the book to lose its effect at all.

It's an excellent introductory book, with hundreds of underlined sentences.

I don't think I have anything to add to the beautiful words that have been said.

This will be a pleasing read for those who have a penchant for language rather than a straightforward plot. The writing style is both luscious and strange, with a subject matter that leans slightly towards the decadent. It vividly reminded me of A Rebours by Joris-Karl Huysmans. And indeed, as the story progresses, near the end, a character is found reading A Rebours.

The unnamed narrator, who is a writer and teacher, resides in Alexandria, Egypt, prior to World War II. He engages in affairs with a woman named Melissa and a married woman named Justine. He also maintains friendships with a homosexual, Balthazar, Justine's husband, Nessim, and various members of the British diplomatic corps. Primarily, he ponders about love and sex, as well as the unique atmospherics of Alexandria. I've been informed that one must read the other three parts of the Alexandria Quartet to obtain the full and comprehensive picture. So, perhaps I will embark on that literary journey.

Durrell has a particular affinity for the word velvet. \\"Several times in the course of those long walks we took together, beside the sad velvet broth of the canal...\\" He employs a plethora of nice similes, such as: \\"A basket of quail burst open in the bazaar. They did not attempt to escape but spread out slowly like spilt honey. Easily recaptured.\\" The book is liberally sprinkled with such bons mots as \\"Most people lie and let life play upon them like the tepid discharges of a douche-bag.\\"

On the other hand, there is also a scene that I truly wish I could unread. In this scene, an exhausted camel, having fallen in the street, is brutally hacked to pieces by men armed with axes, in order to facilitate its easier transport to the slaughterhouse. Somehow, for me, this was even sadder than the incident where the diplomat's wife had her head cut off as she waited in the back of a car, by Bedouin women who coveted the gold in her teeth.

This book's unique narrative style is truly fascinating.

It has the power to evoke a sense of wandering, memory, or even dreaming within the reader.

Adorned with beautiful literary and poetic flashes, it creates a captivating atmosphere.

Although the story may lack clear articulation and consistency at times, it manages to effectively capture the ambiance of Alexandria in the 1930s.

The calm and monotonous rhythm, rather than detracting from the narrative, actually adds depth to it.

This historical backdrop serves as a rich canvas, painting a vivid picture of the era.

From a literary perspective, this book offers an exciting read, inviting readers to explore the nuances of its unique style and the captivating world it creates.

It challenges the reader's perception and engages their imagination, making it a memorable literary experience.

Outstanding - possibly the best writer I have read so far.

This writer's works are truly remarkable. The way they craft their stories, develop their characters, and paint vivid pictures with words is simply astonishing.

Every sentence seems to be carefully constructed, carrying a depth of meaning that draws the reader in and keeps them engaged from start to finish.

Their use of language is masterful, with a rich vocabulary and a unique writing style that sets them apart from others.

Whether it's a thrilling adventure, a heartwarming romance, or a thought-provoking mystery, this writer has the ability to transport the reader to another world and make them feel as if they are a part of the story.

I am truly in awe of their talent and can't wait to see what they come up with next.

Justine is the initial volume of the highly regarded The Alexandria Quartet, a renowned quartet from the 1950s penned by Lawrence Durell. The premise upon which it is based is that people and events appear distinct when regarded from different angles, perspectives, and periods of time. Although the four volumes center around the same characters, several narrators recount the story from diverse viewpoints and at different times. At the core of these tales is Alexandria, set just prior to World War II, which colors the entire work.

The novel commences intriguingly as we encounter an unnamed narrator residing on an unnamed island with a child he identifies as Melissa's. Through his narration, we come to know of his love for Justine as he begins to evoke the images of Alexandria and the expatriate circle to which he belonged, known as “The Cabal.” Melissa is almost a reverse-image of Justine, with one being strong and implacable and the other delicate and charitable. Then there is Nessim, the devoted and wealthy husband of Justine, yet aware of her infidelity. It is a wonderful cast of characters, and the beautiful prose is exquisite. I am eagerly looking forward to reading the next three volumes of The Alexandria Quartet.

“At night when the wind roars and the child sleeps quietly in its wooden cot by the echoing chimney-piece I light a lamp and walk about, thinking of my friends—of Justine and Nessim, of Melissa and Balthazar. I return link by link along the iron chains of memory to the city which we inhabited so briefly together: the city which used us as its flora-precipitated in us conflicts which were hers and which we mistook for our own: beloved Alexandria!”

“Alexandria. . . . . Justine and her city are alike in that they both have a strong flavor without having any real character.”

The first volume of the Alexandria Quartet, which has the fewest stars among the other volumes, tells the story of the relationships of people from different social classes.

The story is told from the perspective of a narrator whose name we don't know, and it describes his love relationship with a woman named Justine, who is the wife of Nessim, one of the wealthiest bankers in the city of Alexandria.

At first glance, the story doesn't have a particular complexity, but the book is not an easy one.

One of the attractive points of the book is the colorful presence of Alexandria as the city where the events take place. The descriptions of the city are very powerful.

It is said that the story gains strength and becomes more complex in the later volumes, but so far it has been attractive enough for me.

I first encountered Justine during my high school days.

I initially read it mainly for the allure of the sexual content.

At that time, I didn't think I gained much else from it other than it being a tragic love story set in the captivating city of Alexandria, Egypt.

Rereading it, however, was a complete revelation.

Durrell's writing is truly exquisite, yet in a rather desultory manner.

No matter what time of day it was, I could only manage to read about thirty pages before succumbing to a deep sleep.

But the characters!

Justine herself is a woman deeply mired in trouble, resolutely refusing to respond to psychoanalysis.

For some inexplicable reason, I found myself respecting that.

Clea is the sexless or perhaps lesbian guardian angel.

Balthazar is the mystic, and Melissa is the phthisic sacrificial lamb.

In their "possessive coupling(s)", as Joni Mitchell so aptly put it, they are passionate, somewhat frantic, and working out their personal histories and destinies.

One could argue that the story is melodramatic, but then again, so is life when we're not being ironic.

Perhaps it was precisely this melodrama that appealed to me as a teenager, much like how Twilight appeals to teens today.

Durrell is on par with Camus as a writer, delving as deeply into the ways of the heart as Camus did with the mind.

They are almost polar opposites, and yet they make a truly fine pair.

I love them both.

As in much great fiction, the city of Alexandria takes on the role of a character and is indeed blamed for a significant portion of what occurs.

Durrell描绘 its alleyways, shores, dwellings, and weather with such vividness that I longed to visit there.

In fact, Justine is the first volume of what became "The Alexandria Quartet."

That means three more opportunities to visit with these characters and that remarkable city.

One is supposed to read all four books in this work to get the full import of the story. However, I had to put down the bulky "Alexandria Quartet" after reading its first book, "Justine."

It was not due to a lack of interest, but rather because of the sheer weight of the prose and the somewhat stagnant story.

Written just before WWII, this book chronicles the bohemian lifestyle of a group of expatriates in Alexandria. There's the unnamed narrator, his dancer girlfriend Melissa, a prominent businessman Nessim, and his wife Justine, who was a rape victim and turned nymphomaniac. They are surrounded by a cast of minor characters like artists, spies, and pseudo philosophers. Everyone seems to be involved with everyone else, a sign of the times at the dawn of another war. The narrator is smitten by Justine and fears that the jealous Nessim, who is sleeping with Melissa to get back at him, might kill him during a duck hunt. Justine is completely self-absorbed, only caring about exploring her own appetites and destiny, not about the damage she causes.

The book is light on plot and heavy on description. Alexandria is vividly portrayed in its various aspects, being called "the city of incest" and "the city of anguished lovers," among other things. The story line jumps around as the narrator focuses only on intense set pieces, regardless of their chronological order.

Along the way, the narrator, a writer scraping by with day jobs, makes interesting observations about his vocation. He accredits authorial success to "tastings of sex buttoned up tight." He also says that after completing a novel, a writer is so exhausted that he may flirt with suicide, and this is the ideal state of mind to drift into directionless affairs, as he does with Melissa and Justine.

Nothing is really resolved in this novel, except that Justine suddenly vanishes after the tragic duck hunt, leaving her husband, lover, and admirers stranded. Later, she is seen working for a living, having lost her looks and shape, and ostensibly enlightened, becoming a normal human being.

I wonder why Durrell wrote this book. Was it to capture a formative period in his life? Was he the narrator? Was he trying to capture the essence of Alexandria, a melting pot of many cultures? In these aspects, he succeeds. But why the elaborate prose? Was he showing off his verbal dexterity? Maybe. Why repeat the story from four angles? Was it pretension, lack of confidence, or an attempt to provide depth and perspective? Perhaps readers in his generation had the patience and appreciated the novelty of this approach. But in today's time-constrained world, this treatment seems like over-writing. I suspect many readers will pick up one of the books in the quartet, get the story line and characters, and not explore further. They might skim the beautiful passages of prose, the descriptions of Alexandrian streets and Egyptian women, and the didactic philosophizing. Alas, when all that is taken away, there may not be much left of this book.

Due to my anal retentiveness and my unwavering insistence on finishing most everything I embark upon, I often find myself lacking in ambition when it comes to selecting really large books. "Justine" may not be that massive in itself, but it is merely the first volume in a 1,000-page tetralogy. And yet, it is truly spectacular.

It reads as a curious blend of "A Sheltering Sky" combined with the deeply internal character development characteristic of writers such as Woolf and Proust. Just as in "A Sheltering Sky," the most crucial character here isn't a person at all, but a place. Alexandria, along with the haunting presence of its patron saint and poet Constantine Cafavy, completely saturates the novel. The writing took me some time to acclimate to, given its highly experimental, lyric form. Initially, Durrell's style indeed appears histrionic and overly elaborate, like something embarrassing out of a soap opera. However, much like the city itself, it eventually begins to grow on you. Sometime during the second half, I came to perceive Durrell's prose not as lurid and overwrought, but almost epiphanic.

There is an epigram of Freud opening the novel that states, "I am accustoming myself to the idea of regarding every sexual act as a process in which four persons are involved. We shall have a lot to discuss about that." In a nutshell, this sums up much of the novel. The narrator, who remains unnamed throughout, befriends a tubercular Alexandrine prostitute named Melissa, but commences an affair with a woman named Justine, who is already married to the wealthy Coptic Christian Nessim. The attempt to conceal the affair and Nessim's growing suspicion and jealousy are what drive the novel forward. (It wasn't by chance that I employed the words "soap opera" earlier.) Durrell seems to desire for Alexandria to be as obscure and full of the "Other" as possible: he places several of the main characters in a philosophical-religious cabal, yet at the end, its influence and significance remain unrevealed.

What makes this novel truly remarkable is the language, the episodic leaps in time, the lush lyricism, and how Durrell so skillfully manages to intertwine all of this with both the city of Alexandria and the themes of passion, love, and jealousy. I'll leave you with just a few lines from the very end, simply to entice: "The cicadas are throbbing in the great plains, and the summer Mediterranean lies before me in all its magnetic blueness. Somewhere out there, beyond the mauve throbbing line of the horizon lies Africa, lies Alexandria, maintaining its tenuous hold on one's affections through memories which are already slowly fading into forgetfulness; memory of friends, of incidents long past. The slow unreality of time begins to grip them, blurring the outlines – so that sometimes I wonder whether these pages record the actions of real human beings or whether this is not simply the story of a few inanimate objects which precipitated drama around them – I mean a black pitch, a watch-key and a couple of dispossessed wedding-rings…"