I always fear as if I haven't sufficiently grasped all the undercurrents and layers of a Banville novel enough to "review" it. I feel like I'm trying to "review" a classic painting, a work of art, without precisely understanding the chaotic yet beautiful nature of the composition. There are stories written for plot, and then there are stories written to inspire wonder. The latter is where I would place this novel. Banville is a writer's writer, in top literary form here.

A someone gave my this well-written book which I'm so sorry I read. A fifty-year-old white able-bodied actor goes through all this angst. Yes, there are tragedies and death, and yet I find him pathetic.

My heart. My nerves.

It is late, the light is going. My mind aches from so much futile remembering. What does it hope to signify, this chapter of family accidents? What is it I hope to retrieve? What is it I am trying to avoid? I see what was my life adrift behind me, going smaller and smaller with distance, like a city on an ice floe caught in a current, its twinkling lights, its palaces and spires and slums, all miraculously intact, all hopelessly beyond reach. Was it I who took an axe to the ice? What can I do now but stand on this crumbling promontory and watch the past as it dwindles? When I look ahead, I see nothing except empty morning, and no day, only dusk thickening into night, and, far off, something that is not to be made out, something vague, patient, binding. Is that the future, trying to speak to me here, among the shadows of the past? I do not want to hear what it might have to say.

Since watching Peaky Blinders, I kind of became obsessed with Cillian Murphy’s work. I dived down the Youtube rabbit hole, watching interviews and performance compilations, but what drove my curiosity the most was an article I read about Cillian’s favourite books. There are some great recommendations in there, Eclipse being one of my definite favourites. It’s a trip for sure, mixing different vibes - mystery, fantasy, and even ghost stories - but in a way that hits you right in the feels. It's about this guy, Alexander Cleave, who's had a pretty rough go of it. Imagine being haunted by your dead dad's ghost as a kid, and then fast forward to being fifty, coming back to your old house, and it's still Ghost Central. But now, there's even more spooky stuff going down.

Cleave used to be this big-shot actor, but he's hit rock bottom after freaking out on stage. He's back at his childhood home, trying to get his head straight, but instead of peace and quiet, he finds himself dealing with a whole new crew of ghosts. Plus, all these messed-up memories start popping up, forcing him to really look at his life - his tanked career, his shaky marriage, and the whole mess with his daughter he doesn't talk to much. Pretty much every page of this book is like a treasure hunt, making you forget the weird vibes you get from the plot. Banville’s sentences create vivid images that sucked me into the book and took me away. With sublime writing, this is one of those novels that’s really tough to put down.

Αν και ο τρόπος γραφής του συγγραφέα διακρίνεται από μια σπάνια λογοτεχνικότητα ο ρυθμός του βιβλίου ήταν εξαιρετικά αργός για μένα με αποτέλεσμα να καταφέρω να το φτάσω μέχρι τη μέση και να μη μπορέσω να το ολοκληρώσω.

Banville's writing is very lyrical, and one can enjoy the simplest of descriptions. Sometimes, however, the descriptions get in the way of the progress of the story. Any time I encounter writing in which paragraphs run longer than two pages, I begin to wonder if the paragraph is filled with description or advancing story. The best writing, I believe, should be an appropriate balance between the two.

This book was difficult to follow at times, though I've come to see that it is set up as a five-act drama, with each "act" containing specific aspects of the story/life of the narrator. Knowing this helps to put some focus in to the reading of the book. Though I suppose, with my theatre background, I should have been able to figure that out, there is nothing at the beginning of the book to indicate that the story is put together in five parts.

The title of the book is perhaps prophetic as this book seems to have been eclipsed by Banville's The Untouchable (which was published immediately before this), and his most recent, Man Booker Prize winning, The Sea.

Not recommended as a first foray into the books of John Banville.

czyta sie to jak postmodernistyczny dramat. czulam sie jakbym ogladala odkrywcza i gleboka sztuke wystawiana na scenie, gdzie probujesz przez caly spektakl przekonac siebie ze to jest nowatorskie i taka jest teraz sztuka i lubisz to, ale po dluzszym namysle dochodzisz do wniosku ze moze jednak jestes bucem i nie kupujesz tego. postaci przypadkowo wrzucane sa w akcje, sam narrator nie wie co tam robia i nie niosa ze soba zadnej misji, nie maja wplywy na fabule one po prostu przychodza, robia kolacje i wychodza xD. "The Sea" zaliczam do najlepszych przeczytanych powiesci tego roku jak nie w ogole top ksiazek, ale to jest katastrofa. mielismy chyba byc swiadkiem choroby (?) szalenstwa (?) narratora i najwidoczniej nie jest to moja bajka, nie lubie opisow tego ze ktos widzi duchy przez 50 stron a potem nagle mowi ze "heeej to jednak nie byly duchy, ale w sumie to nie wiem sam". szukalam podobnych motywow co w The Sea, bo w zalozeniu chyba powinny byc dosc podobne tzn motyw kryzysu psychicznego, tesknota za przeszloscia, smierc... ale bardzo brakowalo klimatu, czytajac to widzialam pusta scene i jeden rekwizyt i milion biegajacych postaci ktore krzycza swoje "prawdy objawione". nie znalazlam zadnego wartosciowego cytatu, a w Morzu znalazlam ich chyba z 20 i wszystkie byly moim zdaniem wybitne, kazdy z nich moglabhm sobie wydziarac. ta ksiazke jakby pisal ktos inny, ktos o wiele mniej uzdolniony... jedna z gorszych lektur jakie przyszlo mi czytac, okropny zawod i potwierdzenie ze underrated ksiazki sa underrated nie bez powodu xd

One doesn't read John Banville for the story but for the language. This is a densely layered construction exploring the themes of loss, memory, relationships and the ego in isolation. The story is secondary, almost irrelevant to most parts. The narrator searches his past and circumstance occasionally happens in the present rather than there being any sort of plot. Having so recently finished it I feel almost too close to be able to judge it with clear perspective. Slightly overlong for the effects it achieves, it is nonetheless an evocative, beautifully written first person narrative. I was very moved, the richness of the prose and Alex Cleave's articulate, pained, lost voice seeped into me from the page. To be read and reread, savouring its images and technique.

Books like this one shouldn't be read at airports or public places. I remember I was engrossed in a piece of beautiful writing from the book while at the airport and there was this guy who had this sudden urge to call everyone on his contact list and pour his heart and mind out, apparently forgetting to keep his voice low. I closed my book.

There are pages and there are sentences you would like to go over again and again, just to get a better understanding or probably to personify the beauty of the writing.

أنهيت قراءة ترجمة الرواية. الترجمة عبقرية،. يطبّق المترجم مفهوم فالتر بينيامين (مهمة المترجم)، الرجل فاهم لدوره ومهمته تمامًا، ولديه شجاعة على التعامل مع كافة المعضلات اللغوية (في اعتقادي) التي صادفها. . اللغة البطل الوحيد، لا درما ولا تصاعد أحداث بالمعنى المعروف، لا شيء يحدث، إلا أن القاريء يبقى دائمًا مأسورًا بأزمة البطل النفسية، مشهد الطائر النافق في البداية مذهل،
أتمنى ترجمة المزيد من أعمال بانفيل.

You could shuffle every sentence of this story and end up with something equally compelling. This read like lazy poetic phrases written in a notebook, cut out and strewn about the floor, then swept into a pile and pasted together into the shape of a book. After immensely enjoying The Sea, this was a major disappointment.

Segundo libro que leo de Banville, segundo libro que se centra en el recuerdo nostálgico del protagonista. Igual está muy bien escrito, más allá de la anécdota.