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456 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2012
Mon ultime luxe est de proférer des horreurs. Ceux qui apprécient prennent cela pour de la sagesse, les autres pour de la sénilité.
Seules deux choses sont infinies, Adèle. L'univers et la stupidité de l'homme. Et encore, je ne suis pas certain de l'infinité de l'univers !
Like cooking pots! So they have different infinities?Grannec does provide end-notes, but they are often denser than the passage being annotated. There are 9 notes through page 150; in the remaining 300 pages, there are 55 more. This is because the novel gradually steers away from the personal story of Kurt and Adele, and becomes a kind of intellectual history of Princeton in the mid-century. This contrasts with the developing relationship between Adele and Anna on her visits to the home. There is at least some spice to these scenes, though here again I wonder if the language (at least in the translation by Willard Wood) does not also sometimes go over the top. Here is Adele questioning Anna about her sex life:
Wrong! They have the same cardinality. I'll spare you the proof. Georg Cantor proved it with the help of a bijective function in the first case and using a diagonal argument in the second.
You think that orgasms didn't exist before 1960? That the sexual revolution, as they call it, invented a woman's pleasure? [...] When was the last time you had pleasure?The old lady is right: Anna Roth is indeed in sexual retreat. We are meant to see her story as a kind of counterpoint to that of the Gödels, in which her association with the dying woman encourages a thaw is her own life. But Anna never fully comes into focus as a character, and her back-story (including a failed relationship with another brilliant mathematician) is unclear. With a pathologically recessive man as the main subject of the novel, we do not need another character who cannot fully occupy her three dimensions. But at least we have the marvelously extroverted Adele, plus a lot of interesting historical facts. [4.5 stars for the first 150 pages, 2.5 stars for the rest]
I should tell you about the last time I got bonked to give you some spice in your sexual retirement? Don't hold your breath.
"There are such pretty words for it in every language: mélancolie, spleen, the blues, saudade. The international hymn of sadness."