I HATED THIS BOOK!
I was so disappointed, since it was recommended to me by two different friends whose tastes I respect. It made me think: am I missing something here?

There were a few sections that I really enjoyed - Yann Martel's descriptions are always so colourful - but as a whole, I just found the book sloppy and confusing. Parts of it just outright annoyed me. Maybe it's because I don't think [spoilers removed]. I got to the end and flipped through the last few pages, thinking "is this really it?!" Apparently I looked disgusted and confused, because a fellow bus rider commented "bad book?".

Not one I'd recommend, but maybe I just didn't "get it".o

Such a brutal ending to this book with beautiful language. I am always impacted by Yann Martel's books. This book slightly reminded me of Crime and Punishment: life is brutal and meaningless without love. Love is the only thing that can save us. This is what the book was about to me.
The harsh tones of life, rape, hurt, violence, lack of meaning, blood money, traveling...where is God? Is there a God? Each sex as man and woman (main character is a boy that becomes a girl.) experiences the cruel realities and hurt as both sex. Love is the only thing that redeems both 'He' and the 'She'.
There are only two chapters.
The whole book is told in one chapter. The last chapter we find the main character is thirty years old, a man and 5 feet seven inches tall. I saw this as a metaphor for Jesus. Jesus walked the earth as a man and becomes the son of God at the age of thirty. Yann Martel is always exploring atrocities by humanity in his writing in all books that I have read by him. Only love and the imagination has been enough to lift all characters in his novels out of the dark and scary world that can exist as evil at the hand of a human being. Each sex will become a victim or the prey. LOVE is the only redeemer for both. And the last short chapter represented to me a new light, an new beginning as one whole person. Not for the faint of heart. A deep and graphic read with strong, sexual content. A complex novel with several layers, beautiful language and a deep exploration of 'what is the true meaning of life?'

I'm not exactly sure what to say. I questioned myself many times whilst reading this - is finishing this a waste of my time? I can't exactly tell you why I did finish... I think I just wanted to know if it got better or if anything would redeem it for me. No. the effects of the gender swap plot twist sat very uncomfortably with me. I can't help but attribute that discomfort to feeling something like, well, that Martel has appropriated the female experience. FULL ON appropriation. Why does this bother me so much when I think it's perfectly fine for a male author to write a female character? I think it's the fact that this is an autobiography/fiction work. He's describing in detail things that are uniquely an embodied female experience as if it's his own. Such as periods, having sex, being raped and what it is like to walk as vulnerably as a female in this ridiculously patriarchal world (that turns away from make violence against women rather than stamping it out as the abomination it is). Anyway, these are things that a cis male can only theoretically understand. So to describe them in such vivid, embodied detail implies ownership of those experiences and that feels like a patriarchal invasion to me funnily enough.

181 for ever

Narrative really endows a nice atmosphere of confidence. Was most amused by description of dog hobbling down stairs

The best book I've read this year, reminding me I should have checked out more of his stories and a lot sooner too.

Totally confusing but really capturing!
What actually happened with him? What then happened with her???

"I no longer believe in eye fish in fact, but still do in metaphor. In the passion of an embrace, when breath, the wind, is at its loudest and skin at its saltiest, I still nearly think that I could stop things and hear, feel, the rolling of the sea. I am still nearly convinced that, when my love and I kiss, we will be blessed with the sight of angelfish and sea-horses rising to the surface of our eyes, these fish being the surest proof of our love. In spite of everything, I still profoundly believe that love is something oceanic."

"The clear liquid in our eyes is seawater and therefore there are fish in our eyes, seawater being the natural medium of fish. Since blue and green are the colours of the richest seawater, blue and green eyes are the fishiest. Dark eyes are somewhat less fecund and albino eyes are nearly fishless, sadly so. But the quantity of fish in an eye means nothing. A single tigerfish can be as beautiful, as powerful, as an entire school of seafaring tuna. That science has never observed ocular fish does nothing to refute my theory; on the contrary, it emphasizes the key hypothesis, which is: love is the food of eye fish and only love will bring them out. So to look closely into someone’s eyes with cold, empirical interest is like the rude tap-tap of a finger on an aquarium, which only makes the fish flee."

"This pain, the pain of unrequited love, occurred at such regular intervals during my childhood and adolescence that I don’t care to write about it. It was a terrible and continuous pain and there was no deflecting it, only bearing it. When my parents prepared spaghetti, I always noticed the one noodle left behind in the strainer, forsaken, forgotten, while its companions lay intertwined in each others’ arms, hot and steaming, in the large bowl at the centre of the table. When love was pain, I felt like that noodle. I never ate pasta without beforehand going to the strainer in the sink. I would look upon this bereft noodle, curled upon itself in search of comfort, and I would bring it love by eating it tenderly."

"When disrespect is a climate and a system, it becomes contagious."

"Memory is a glue: it attaches you to everything, even to what you don’t like."

"He was a touch pudgy, but in a pleasant way; his belly looked as if it were the centre of something, the proper context for a navel, rather than an excess."

"My childless aunt — and she exuded childlessness, like her husband — was a conventional woman. Her life had flowed like cement: it had been changeable only when it was fresh, for once it had set, she had set."

One of the weirdest books that I've ever read!

One of the best autobiographical/fiction works I've read.The process of metamorphosis from genders and gender roles is so well captured in the book,it profoundly touches the subtle and intricate details of being.Every paragraph ends with a bang of philosophy,that you actually keep the book down and stare at the wall. It's also one of the few books which describes sex so delicately yet so passionately.One of those books which stays with you, which claws into your soul.

jakbym to oceniala majac 16 lat kiedy pierwszy raz czytalam te ksiazke dalabym 5/5 i loved it probably because i wanted to be edgy. przy reread nie podobala mi sie tak bardzo no matter how the author tries there's no way i can separate his maleness from his main character. also it centers around sex a lot i pare opisow made me uncomfy¿ ale czyta sie ogolnie super pewnie kwestia tlumaczenia

Blimey. About 8 or 9 years ago I read The Life of Pi which I thought was brilliant. Brilliantly written, brilliant storytelling and even now I think it's one of the best books I've ever read.

This is Martel's first novel and it's written in the first person as a sort of autobiography. I don't want to say much more than that as it's a journey through a life that is sometimes sad, sometimes happy and sometimes painful.

The writing is brilliant, and the layout is peculiar in places, almost like a cross between literature and art.

It's very modern and very philosophical. And more than that, I can't say.

Książka zaczyna się całkiem nieźle, choć już z początku niektóre opisy są po prostu odrażające np. opisy torturowanych zwierząt. Momentami powieść jest po prostu nudna.
Spodziewałam się, że powieść ta da mi do myślenia, skłoni do głębszych refleksji. Jednak nic takiego nie otrzymałam. Dość ciężko się ją czyta i na pewno nie jest to lektura dla wszystkich.

Nie rozumiem dlaczego narrator w połowie książki zmienia się w kobietę, a następnie znowu w mężczyznę. Zachwyty miesiączką i innymi przemianami w organizmie kobiet i mężczyzn po portu odrzucają i sprawiają, że chce się odłożyć tę książkę. Z trudem dotarłam do końca.

This was a strange book that I almost gave up on in some spots. Glad though that I didn't! Certainly not a comfortable read and certainly not everyone's cup of tea, so to speak.
I found it a rather fascinating look at the manner in which we reach adulthood with all the brilliant and devastating moments along the journey.
Martel uses symbolism to speak to the issues of death and grieving, sexuality, cultural differences with imagination and a unique perspective.
I loved the way he incorporated different language conversations into the story, as well as pages where there just no words to express what The main character was feeling! He left spaces for you to fill in with your own imagination what you thought this person must be feeling! Little spaces to feed your compassion with!