bizzarly profound.food for thought:"The Hopi, an Indian tribe, have a language as sophisticated as ours, but no tenses for the past, present and future. The division does not exist. What does this say about time?Matter, that thing the most solid and well-known, which you are holding in your hands and which makes up your body, is now known to be mostly empty space. Empty space and points of light. What does this say about the reality of the world"(frontispiece)?"Truth to tell, I could have snapped her spine like a fish-bone. Had I done so, perhaps I could have changed our fate, for fate may hang on any moment and at any moment be changed. I should have killed her and found us a different story"(7)."I have met a number of people who, anxious to be free of the burdens of their gender, have dressed themselves men as women and women as men...I decided to coninue as a woman for a time and took a job on a fish stall. I noticed that women have a private language. A language not dependent on the constructions of men but structured by signs and expressions, and that uses ordinary words as code-words meaning something other"(28-30)."We were all nomads once, and crossed the deserts and the seas on tracks that could not be detected, but were clear to those who knew the way. Since settling down and rooting like trees, but without the ability to make use of the wind to scatter our seed, we have found only infection and discontent"(43)."The Story of the Twelve Dancing Princesses"(47-61).Princess 5:"You may have heard of Rapunzel. Against the wishes of her family, who can best be described by their passion for collecting miniature dolls, she went to live in a tower with an older woman. Her family were so incensed by her refusal to marry the prince next door that they vilified the couple, calling one a witch and the other a little girl. Not content with names, they ceaselessly tried to break into the tower, so much so that the happy pair had to seal up any entrance that was not on a level with the sky. The lover got in by climbing up Rapunzel's hair, and Rapunzel got in by nailing a wig to the floor and shinning up the tresses flung out of the window. Both of them could have used a ladder, but they were in love.One day the prince, who had always liked to borrow his mother's frocks, dressed up as Rapunzel's lover and dragged himself into the tower. Once inside he tied her up and waited for the wicked witch to arrive. The moment she leaped through the window, bringing their dinner for the evening, the prince hit her over the head and threw her out again. Then he carried Rapunzel down the rope he had brought with him and forced her to watch while he blinded her broken lover in a field of thorns.After that they lived happily ever after, of course.As for me, my body healed, though my eyes never did, and eventually I was found by my sisters, who had come in their various ways to live on this estate.My own husband?Oh well, the first time I kissed him he turned into a frog.There he is, just by your foot. His name's Anton"(52)."But what can save a species of love?..He shook his head and assured me that nothing was proof against love. Not even the slightest amourette could be forestalled by an amulet"(78)."Time has no meaning, space and place have no meaning, on this journey. All times can be inhabited, all places visited. In a single day the mind can make a millpond of the oceans. Some people who have never crossed the land they were born on have travelled all over the world. The journey is not linear, it is always back and forth, denying the calendar, the wrinkles and lines of the body. The self is not contained in any moment or any place, but it is only in the intersection of moment and place that the self might, for a moment, be seen vanishing through a door, which disappears at once"(87)."Thinking about time is to acknowledge two contradictory certainties: that our outward lives are governed by the seasons and the clock; that our inward lives are governed by something much less regular-imaginative impulse cutting through the dictates of daily time, and leaving us free to ignore the boundaries of here and now and pass like lightning along the coil of pure time, that is, the circle of the universe and whatever it does or does not contain"(99)."I have set off and found that there is no end to even the simplest journey of the mind. I begin, and straight away a hundred alternative routes present themselves. I choose one, no sooner begin, than a hundred more appear. Every time I try to narrow down my intent I expand it, and yet those straits and canals still lead me to the open sea, and then I realize how vast it all is, this matter of the mind. I am confounded by the shining water and the size of the world"(115)."When I was a girl I heard my mother and father copulating. I heard my father's steady grunts and my mother's silence. Later my mother told me that men take pleasure and women give it. She told me in a matter-of-fact way, in the same tone of voice she used to tell me how to feed the dogs or make bread"(121)."I had sex with a man once: in out in out. A soundtrack of grunts and a big sigh at the end.He said, 'Did you come?'Of course I didn't come, haven't you read Master's and Johnson?And then he fell asleep and his breathing was in out in out"(145)."Fortunata's Story"(150-154).
This book is a conundrum to me. It is beautifully written. It is more prose poem than novel. Calling this a novel did it a great disservice in my mind.Passages and passages of powerful, beautiful imagery. In terms of exploration of the nature of love, relationships, self and time, this book earns 5 stars.In terms of actually pulling all of those things into a cohesive and assessable story or book, it falls short. I often had the feeling this book grew out of an series of writing exercises. In some parts of the work, it is very tight, frames well and there are a number of "tricks" which seem to work well, only to be abandoned.I also think that the addition of the last quarter of this book, does it a great disservice. I could have been happy without the "Sometime Later" section. Ending the book on page 124, I think does actually tie together a number of the loose ends, not neatly, but then there is nothing neat and tidy about this book, not in style, execution, exploration or point of view.But the final passages on pages 123, 124 really, I think answer alot of the linger questions - for both narrators. For me - it brought me to place of peace and place to think and acceptance.I think the "Sometime Later" section works. It does not work at the end of this book, even though some of the ladies in my book club felt it did work. It feels contrived and it feels like it is self consciously connected dots which refused to be connected in other sections of the book.I think the "Something Later" section, if it has to stay, would work better in the beginning. Start there and work backwards. I think it would help the reader form a story and I think it propels the plot alot better. It also I think, fits with the playing with time and exploring the realities of time and space.All in all I am glad I stuck with this book and saw it through to the end. Had this not been the book club selection, I doubt I would have. I am glad I did and I am going to read some of her other works, if only to experience her beautiful use of language and poetic imagery.A word to the wise, this book is not shy about sex, violence and her brand of feminism is radical, typical perhaps of the time period, but her point of view may not be widely shared.
Do You like book Sexing The Cherry (1998)?
I loved this book. At the level of plot, we read about a gigantic woman who finds a small boy, Jordan, on the banks of the Thames in London in the 17th century. She raises this boy and watches him grow to develop a passion for boats, sailing, and exploring, knowing that she will lose him to his passions, and knowing that he will lose his heart to a woman who will not return his love. At the core of this novel, though, are metaphysical and philosophical explorations--both for us as readers, and a
—Austen
I really wanted to enjoy this book and whilst I appreciate that it is written very well in a literary sense, it did not appeal to me at all. The relentless misandry made it quite a boring read, despite its short length. I could see flashes of brilliance in this book (the dancing princesses, the character of dog-woman), however none of it was fleshed out to any sort of degree to make me want to read on. All in all a difficult 140 pages to trawl through. I can't help thinking that if it were a little longer and the relentless male bashing toned down I'd have enjoyed it more, but then that wasn't probably the authors aim.
—Jayde
Date 15 January 23rd JanuaryTime 19:00 – 20.15Location : The BoxExcerpt from interview with P BryantDetective Munch : Thing is, my literary friend, you got no proof.PB : Proof?Det Munch : Anyone can invent an identity and claim to have read like a zillion books and then post up fake reviews. Anyone. I could pay 15 year olds to do it. PB : Well, so what? That’s the internet for you. Who cares?Det Pembleton : Who cares? Did you hear that John? Who cares? We care. Let me explain a little. This Goodreads thing, it used to be nothing much, a few book geeks with no social life, who gave a tinker’s damn one way or the other. But now, now’s different.Det Munch : Now you have like 20 million people on this site. Now it’s big. Now you get mentions in Fortune magazine. You know Fortune? That’s like when rich people notice. Have you heard of rich people? Yeah. When they notice, it’s important.Det Pembleton : So we see that you reviewed this Jeanette Winterson novel here, er, “Sexing The Cherry”, and awarded it a whole two stars, I mean, come on buddy, where’s your proof that you even read this damn thing? PB : It was years ago. There’s no proof. You just have to take my word.Det Munch : As a man of honour?PB : Well, er, I probably wouldn’t quite use those words.Det Munch : Well, let’s see if we can figure this thing out. May I direct your attention to these three mug shots. Take your time. Tell us which one is Jeanette Winterson.He takes photos of Jeanette Winterson, Sara Waters and Ellen Degeneres and spreads them on the table.PB : Er – this doesn’t prove anything.Det Pembleton : Not in itself. Let’s say it’s an…indicator.PB stabs blindly at the photo of Ellen Degenares.Det Pembleton : Did you see that, Detective Munch? The interviewee has indicated the photo of Ellen Degeneres who is an American television personality and not an English novelist. Det Munch : I did see that, Frank. I take that to be … indicative.PB : Anyhow, how did I get here? You guys, you’re Baltimore murder cops. I seen you in that show.Det Munch : We’re on secondment. You’re right, this fake reviewing crime isn’t murder - except in the sense of murdering a writer’s reputation with fake reviews and fake ratings and general fake fakery. You do realise that your fake reviews get Google hits? This is not some nerdy game. This is real life. PB : The last thing I remember I was at home – I heard a hissing noise… it was a kind of gas… coming through my front door keyhole…and I woke up here. I’ve read about this… this is called extraordinary rendition…Det Pembleton : Well, could be extraordinary to you, but not to us. Come on, let’s quit the amusing back and forth – did you really read this novel?PB : Yes! Years ago!Det Munch : And what did you think of it?PB : It was weird and phantasmagorical!Det Munch: Much like her other one The Passion which you also “read” ?PB: Yes – no – yes. Different. But similar. Oh, I don’t know.Det Pembleton : John, let’s leave Mr Bryant to think things over for a minute or so.They leave The Box and join the Goodreads editorial staff who have been observing the interview through the two way mirror. Det Pembleton : He’ll break. They all do, eventually.
—Paul Bryant
