The Blue Guitar
A Literary Fiction, Abandoned, Irish Literature book. The fact is, whenever I made an overture to a woman, which...
From the Man Booker Prize-winning author of The Sea and Ancient Light, a new novel--at once trenchant, witty, and shattering--about the intricacies of artistic creation and theft, and about the ways in which we learn to possess one another, and to hold on to ourselves.Equally self-aggrandizing and self-deprecating, our narrator, Oliver Otway Orme, is a painter of some renown, and a petty thief who does not steal for profit and has never before been caught. But he's pushing fifty, feels like a hundred, and things have not...
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- Filetype: PDF
- Pages: 272 pages
- ISBN: / 0
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More About The Blue Guitar
Lots of water under that bridge, lets not drown ourselves in it. John Banville, The Blue Guitar // A married couple never seem so married as when viewed from the back seat of a motor car, talking quietly together in the front. Polly and Marcus might have been in their bedroom already, so soft and intimate their converse sounded to me, as I sat there alertly mute behind the backs of their heads John Banville, The Blue Guitar // Happy sadness, sad happiness, the story of my life and loves John Banville, The Blue Guitar //
The end of the affair...Olly Orme used to be a painter, but his muse has left him. He's still a thief though. He doesn't steal for money it's the thrill that attracts him. He feels it's essential that his thefts are noticed or they don't count as theft. Usually it's small things he steals a figurine, a tie-pin. But nine months ago,... My lovely friend Claire when I mention John Banville says, Oh that pretentious boor. Or words to that effect. However, having just finished The Blue Guitar, I want to re-read it immediately. Like a glorious meal or a sparkling conversation it is too lovely merely to stop enjoying.On the surface the novel reveals the story of a painter... Well, Banville has done it again. Yet another of his books that has enraptured me. Of course there is his brilliant writing, but I will not attempt to discuss this too much. I can only put myself to shame babbling away in decrepit prose trying to paint his godly ability his full control of every word he pins and pens down and his hand...
