For me, this just wasn't compelling enough to finish.

The first thing that struck me about this book was the heart-stopping beauty of Marion, a central character near the beginning of the book. It's tough to get images that concrete in written words, but Irving handles it without strain. Its not just a physical description, its the way that the rest of the image is a bit darker, a bit fuzzier when Marion is in the picture, like Irving is using the depth of field in a photograph to highlight the subject, like her physical brilliance is so overwhelming that everything else is dimmed.

Looking back, though, that's really all that there was for me in this book. The post-Marion sections of the book are slushy and incongruous; where Irving was so careful not to create a caricature of beauty in the first part of the book, the later parts are almost nothing but caricature: The detective, the prostitute, the distant, womanizing father.

In all, this was object lesson in leaving well enough alone. Had the first third of the book been left to stand on its own, it would have been a sparse, elegant novel. With the weight of the rest of the book, it was much less.

Well this was disappointing, don't know why I had such high hopes on this as I've only given his books three stars at the moment. The story wasn't interestingly at all and the characters was terrible written. I had bought this and another one of his books on a flea market so might give him a 4th and last try

Puh was war das denn bitte für ein Buch? Ehrlicherweise habe ich es nur bis zum Schluss gelesen, weil es von John Irving ist. Sonst hätte ich es nach den ersten 50 Seiten abgebrochen. Aber ich habe bis zum Ende gehofft, dass es mich doch noch positiv überrascht. Es bleibt jedoch leider komplett farblos und ja einfach nichtssagend. Ich weiß einfach nicht, warum Irving dieses Buch geschrieben hat. Mit keiner der Personen bin ich warm geworden, die Geschichte schleppt sich von Kapitel zu Kapitel und selbst die Sprache ist unfassbar vulgär. Ich bin wirklich schockiert und enttäuscht... "Witwe für ein Jahr" reiht sich in meiner Liste der schlechtesten Bücher ganz vorne ein.

El día que me guste una novela de un escritor estadounidense montaré una fiesta. Mira que lo intento pero no hay manera. De todos modos, aún me quedan unos cuantos por probar así que a ver si me ilumina Dios de una vez por todas.

Onbenullige roman van groot schrijver. Onbenullige vrouwelijke personages. Een verteller die het steeds over de borsten van de hoofdpersoon heeft. Karakteristiek van Ruth: ze is een beroemd schrijver en ze merkt steeds op dat iedereen naar haar borsten kijkt. Gaaaaaaap.

I was very close to not finishing this book around page 350 (the first section wasn't so bad, but the middle really lagged). It was very long (very wordy) and to be honest, I didn't care much for Ruth or Eddie.

I am glad, however, that I continued reading because it got much better toward the end. I started liking Ruth only when she got married and became a mother. It changed something in her, I suppose.

Although this was not one of my favorite books by far, I did like the way John Irving could take something from the beginning of the story--such as Ruth as a child being afraid of a dress moving on a hanger, which I believe came from one of her father's childrens' books, and brought that back when she was waiting in the closet of the red room in Amsterdam. Just having witnessed a murder. His ability to bring back elements like that was nice. And he did it more than once.

This book, though, was exhausting in its amount of sex and all things related. And enough about how Ruth had great breasts. I get it. I got it after the first time they mentioned it.

Anyway, I don't know that I would recommend this book to anyone I know (in fact, I know I wouldn't) but the last 200 pages redeemed itself for me. But the ending tied itself up a little too neatly for me.

Und wieder ein Irving, der mir sehr gut gefallen hat.
Auch wenn diese Geschichte ab und an Längen hatte, so habe ich doch jede Seite, ach was sage ich, jede Zeile genossen. Ruth, Eddie, Ted, Marion, ja, sogar Hannah und Harry werden mir fehlen.
Und wie auf dem Klappentext steht: Man möchte, dass das Buch nie endet!
Bloß gut, ich hab noch viele Irving Romane vor mir und werde mir auch gleich den nächsten raussuchen und wieder in die Irving-Welt abtauchen!
Fangirl, durch und durch!

Di come arrivammo al giorno in cui Irving mi portò alle giostre.

Inutile negare che con John, io abbia passato innumerevoli momenti felici.

La nostra è una storia d’amore ultra decennale. Presi una cotta per lui, quando da adolescente lo incontrai in una libreria di un anonimo paesino di mare, e rimasi ore a sentirlo raccontare le storie di Homer Ne “Le regole della casa del sidro”.

Ma poi, come spesso accade nelle storie dei grandi amori, lo persi di vista. Lo rincontrai anni dopo, quando una mia amica me lo fece trovare il giorno del mio compleanno con “Preghiera per un amico”, pronto a raccontarmi le storie di una persona a lui carissima, Owen, che presto divenne il mio migliore amico. Ah, quanti pomeriggi insieme a Owen, quante emozioni, quanti pianti e sorrisi. Solo per avermelo fatto conoscere, ancora oggi non ho abbastanza parole per ringraziarlo.

Non ci sono mai stati periodi di maretta tra me e John, però come spesso accade alle coppie navigate, ci siamo lasciati prendere la mano dalla routine quotidiana e dalla monotonia dell’abitudine.

Ammetto di non essere esente da colpe: anche senza andare da un consulente familiare, sapevo benissimo che ci sono stati lunghi periodi in cui non gli ho dedicato abbastanza tempo. Anni in cui non ho avuto più la pazienza di ascoltarlo, mentre mi raccontava le sue cose. Io ero troppo impegnata a guardare altrove, a cercare persone più affascinanti, che mi sapessero raccontare storie come lui. E ne trovai parecchie, però non è certo una gran scoperta che il primo amore non si scorda mai.

Per fortuna, lui si è dimostrato più saggio di me.

Così l’anno scorso, mentre ero distratta da mille problemi, mi ha chiesto di accompagnarlo a visitare un altro suo caro amico d’infanzia, Garp. Ed è stata la scintilla che riattizza il focolare. Meraviglioso, come ai tempi di Owen.

Così, abbiamo ritrovato finalmente la giusta serenità per dedicarci del tempo, tralasciando le cose secondarie. Una seconda luna di miele. E ho scoperto lati di lui che non conoscevo. Mi ha raccontato ad esempio, di quando era giovane e bizzarro, e scriveva cose che per molti erano incomprensibili, come “Libertà per gli orsi”, e ieri ha voluto portarmi fuori a cena per farmi vedere una cosa.

Avevo già intuito che doveva essere una cosa interessante, da quando ho intravisto cosa c’era scritto sull’invito cartonato:“Vedova per un anno”. Un’altra donna si sarebbe spaventata, ma non io, che di John mi fido ciecamente.

E ho fatto bene. Pensavo mi portasse a cena in qualche ristorante alla moda, così, per ricordare i vecchi tempi tra luci soffuse e bicchieri di romanticismo. Invece mi ha portato alle giostre. Ma non erano giostre qualsiasi. C’era soltanto un’unica grandiosa ruota panoramica.

Per chi non sapesse cos’è, dovrebbe forse essere la giostra più tranquilla tra tutte. Perché come dice Wikipedia è una struttura circolare a cui sono attaccate svariate cabine. La velocità è talmente lumacosa che hai tutto il tempo di goderti il panorama mentre la ruota gira, e ti dà la possibilità di osservarlo per bene da diverse angolazioni.

Questo se si trattasse di una ruota normale. Ma potete immaginare la mia sorpresa, quando ho scoperto che la ruota su cui ho fatto un giro con John, poggiava sul perno dell’assenza. Assenza di affetti cari, assenza fisica, e dalle cabine si vedevano tutte le angolazioni possibili di questo vuoto. Un’esperienza paradossalmente piena zeppa di emozioni. E improvvisamente ho capito anche perché il mio amato John mi ci ha portato solo ora.

Non è una giostra per fidanzatini nell’estasi dell’innamoramento e della passione. Del resto lui mi aveva già conquistato con Owen quando i tempi erano giusti. Quando aveva bisogno di travolgermi e di togliermi il fiato. Adesso, ha voluto prendermi per mano e farmi guardare il passato. Non il mio, ma quello di altre persone, belle nonostante il dolore, affascinanti nonostante la normalità delle azioni e delle reazioni.

È una grande lezione con una tempistica eccezionale. Siamo quello che abbiamo vissuto. Ma in futuro saremo quello che possiamo ancora decidere di essere. Anche se ci vuole un’infinità di tempo per essere padroni di quelle decisioni. A volte ti tocca stare su una ruota panoramica per anni, prima di arrivare ad averne la consapevolezza. Ma il panorama non sarà mai sterile, qualunque cosa ci abbia stravolto la vita.

John Irvings website describes A Widow For One Year as " Richly comic, as well as deeply disturbing, A Widow for One Year is a multilayered love story of astonishing emotional force. Both ribald and erotic, it is also a brilliant novel about the passage of time and the relentlessness of grief." It all sounds so appealing to me so what a shame it is to discover that after reading all 668 pages my astonishing emotional responses were relief that I can now move on to something else, and disappointment that I clearly missed alot of what was great about it.

From early on I got the sense that I wasn't going to be enthralled by this book so should have let it go yet I have this ridiculous stubborn streak that prevents me from giving up once I've started. Spanning almost four decades it was something of a family saga yet I felt apathetic about most of the characters. It had a tongue-in-cheek feel about it yet what was referred to as ribald I didn't really find funny, (although I will admit the very last line in the book was cleverly done and made me smile). I could recognise the love story and the elements of grief but simply didn't feel them as I expected to.

Whilst I suspect I'll forget the plot and the characters in no time I fear the disappointment will linger longer. John Irving is a highly regarded author and I own many of his most famous titles. I'm sure I'll try him again but it might just take me a while to want to go there.

For John Irving fans, this book has everything you're looking for - quirky characters, imaginative storylines, bizarre coincidences, and memorable writing. The novel tells the story of the highly dysfunctional Cole family, who are all haunted by the deaths of the two teenage Cole boys. The lives and relationships of Ted, Marion and Ruth Cole are shaped by the grief resulting from that tragic accident. The book also uses the characters (who all pretty much turn out to be writers or storytellers) to deeply explore the autobiographical nature of fiction and the use of an author's imagination. I thought this was a little self-indulgent on Irving's part at first, but I was ultimately really impressed by how cleverly this theme was layered into the story and how thought-provoking these ideas turned out to be for me.

Honestly, I thought some of this book was just weird (and maybe a little creepy), like 39 year old Marion's affair with 16 year old Eddie O'Hare, as well as everyone's obsession with Ruth Cole's breasts. There is also just a lot in this book - a lot of characters, a lot of subplots, a lot of settings. And since all of the main characters are writers, there are a lot of stories within the story as the characters work on their novels. But Irving's imagination and wit was somehow able to pull it all together and deliver an enjoyable, although zany, reading experience.

The book did feel a little long at times with the multiple story lines and unusual twists, not to mention some lengthy digressions. Also, I didn't love the ending. It's a lovely ending, but it felt like a very tidy, bland wrap up compared the delightful chaos of the rest of the book. But again, somehow Irving gets me to overlook all of this as I'm thinking about how I should rate this book, because the cleverness of the themes and the well-crafted imaginative storytelling is so overpowering.

Overall, I thought this was a captivating and often humorous multi-layered story with lots of twists and turns. I find that I'm actually liking the book more and more post-reading as I'm processing the significance of all the characters and storylines. If you're a John Irving fan or are maybe looking for some unconventional fiction, this one is worth a read.

M'ha agradat molt la gestió del temps i dels personatges al llarg d'aquesta novel·la tripartita.