Forum de FilmDeCulte

Oui.

150 pages proches de l'illisible, tellement qu'au-delà il y a juste Finnegans Wake

Tu sais que J R est composé à 99 % de dialogues, la plupart sans indication de qui parle, où, comment, etc. ?

Tous ces trucs sont bien plus faciles à lire que du Henry James dernière manière.

Henry James, c'est très clair, très construit. Une fois qu'on a pris l'habitude de ses phrases à rallonge qui se tortillent dans tous les sens, ça se lit sans trop de souffrance (mais James en général, ça me fatigue).
Alors que Finnegans wake...

Bah si tu trouves la lecture de The Golden Bowl et de The Wings of The Dove si facile, il n'y a pas de raison que Gaddis ne soit pas du gâteau pour toi, et un peu trop d'ailleurs.

Henry James! Le Tour d'écrou l'an dernier, c'était un des trucs les plus bizarres que j'avais jamais lus...

It must not be supposed that her ladyship's intermissions were not qualified by demonstrations of another order - triumphal entries and breathless pauses during which she seemed to take of everything in the room, from the state of the ceiling to that of her daughter's boot- toes, a survey that was rich in intentions. Sometimes she sat down and sometimes she surged about, but her atttitude wore equally in either case the grand air of the practical. She found so much to deplore that she left a great deal to expect, and bristled so with calculation that she seemed to scatter remedies and pledges. Her visits were as good as an outfit; her manner, as Mrs Wix once said, as good as a pair of curtains; but she was a person addicted to extremes - some- times barely speaking to her child and sometimes pressing this tender shoot to a bosom cut, as Mrs Wix had also observed, remarkably low. She was always in a fearful hurry, and the lower the bosom was cut the more it was to be gathered she was wanted elsewhere. She usually broke in alone, but sometimes Sir Claude was with her, and during all the earlier period there was nothing on which these appearances had had so delightful a bearing as on the way her ladyship was, as Mrs Wix expressed it, under the spell. "But isn't she under it!" Maisie used in thoughtful but familiar reference to exclaim after Sir Claude had swept mamma away in peals of natural laughter. Not even in the old days of the convulsed ladies had she heard mamma laugh so freely as in these moments of conjugal surrender, to the gaiety of which even a little girl could see she had at last a right - a little girl whose thoughtfulness was now all happy selfish meditation on good omens and future fun.