Title | : | Am I a Redundant Human Being? (German and Austrian Literature Series) |
Author | : | |
Rating | : | |
ISBN | : | 1564785815 |
ISBN-10 | : | 9781564785817 |
Language | : | English |
Format Type | : | Paperback |
Number of Pages | : | 151 |
Publication | : | First published January 1, 2001 |
Am I a Redundant Human Being? (German and Austrian Literature Series) Reviews
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Found this book while browsing in the Dalkey Archive section of Dog Eared Books. What an incredible find. Modernism at its best.
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If you have to ask yourself the question, "Am I a Redundant Human Being?", the answer is "Yes", and please don't waste your time or mine writing 200 some pages of jibber jabber. K, thanks!
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A nicely constructed abyss.
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Poor Aloisia has no self-confidence, and is disgusted with her mediocrity. She becomes so disgusted with herself that she grovels for the attention and admiration and affection of those she considers extraordinary, or at least more interesting.
The female version of "No Longer Human" by Osamu Dazai. Like Yozo from "No Longer Human," she rants, psychologically rationalizing her insane self-hatred. It's neither endearing nor excruciating, as she admits it is pretzel logic.
In our age of midwits, self-made victims of the Dunning-Kreuger effect, this novel is kind of refreshing. Aloisia is not a model of mental health, but she understands, and depresses us with her limits: "I didn't use my ambition to demand more of myself than I was capable of giving--I simply used it to expect more of myself than I was capable of giving." -
The reasoning as to why I chose to buy this book is still perplexing to me to this day. On the back cover, the narrator describes herself as boring and self-obsessed. My mind assumed that was a sarcastic summation of what would ultimately turn into an interesting story. I was wrong.
Aloisa is a dull narcissist who accomplishes little to nothing due to the fact that she spends all day thinking about how little she has done. Even her fantasies are pretty dry, and it leaves the reader wondering: How did such a boring story ever get published? -
I'm kind of blown away by this book. It was written in 1931 but felt extremely modern at certain points. Really fluid translation. Absolutely perfect for readers of Ottessa Moshfegh and Halle Butler (I've heard this referred to as "millennial fiction" but this book shows me its more of a timeless mood)
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Yes. You are.
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Viennese Carrie Bradshaw from Hell. Memoir-haters, take note: the (fictional) narrator obsessively, onanistically (sometimes literally) reviews and analyzes the events of her life, before finally asking the reader whether she is "a completely redundant human being?" and yet raging against "something that was stronger than I was, that could consume and swallow me without a trace" (obscurity?).
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"how was your agonizing confessional story about a neurotic secretary in post-ww1 austria?"
"good, but a little short. and how was youre?"
"good, but, heh, It was a little short."
*they both start laughing* -
excellent novel by an unknown Austrian writer.
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The most vulnerable and masochistic evaluation of simple, ordinary life. I sighed in relief many times, finally knowing I wasn't the only one.
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The idea is brilliant. It's unusually dark though - might put you in a weird place.