| Title | : | Original Bliss |
| Author | : | |
| Rating | : | |
| ISBN | : | 0375702784 |
| ISBN-10 | : | 9780375702785 |
| Language | : | English |
| Format Type | : | Paperback |
| Number of Pages | : | 224 |
| Publication | : | First published January 1, 1997 |
Original Bliss Reviews
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There’s a bite-sized depression on the top edge of my copy of
Original Bliss.
According to the copyright page, the book was published in 1998, and while I’m not sure when I bought it, I’d guess it was at least fifteen years ago because the pages have yellowed, especially along the top edge, which makes the little depression stand out like a fresh bite out of an apple. If I was a quirky character in an Al Kennedy story, I might tell the author that I had attempted to eat her words. And it’s almost true. I have come to really savour her words, although when I first tried to read this book, I couldn’t get through the beginning story. That’s as big a mystery to me now as the bite-sized depression on the top edge. I know how it got there, of course, just not why.
A couple of years ago, and long after I’d dismissed this book as unreadable, placing it out of sight at the back of a shelf, a friend gave me a copy of
Day and I read it and was amazed that the writer of that excellent novel could be the same person who’d turned me off quite so definitively in Original Bliss. But I still didn’t search out OB to give it another chance. Instead I read a different selection of Kennedy’s stories,
Now That You're Back, and became a confirmed Al Kennedy fan. She manages to mix the ordinary with the weird, the sentimental with the brutal, and she does it all with perfect timing so that the reader soon learns to pay attention to all the small details of each story, certain they will lead somewhere very interesting in the end.
So, having enjoyed
Now That You're Back so much, I finally searched through my bookshelves for
Original Bliss, this time determined to give it a fair chance. And I did. The first story was brilliant. Why hadn’t I loved it the first time? It's true I wasn't a great reader of short stories back then, and certainly not a reader of stories that require a little patience, because Kennedy teases the reader quite a bit, doling out her story little and slow. I probably wasn’t a reader who paid huge attention to word choice either. And Al Kennedy needs for us to pay attention to the words she uses. They are all carefully chosen, everything is in service to the story, nothing is wasted.
As I read through the rest of the great stories in this collection, I noticed a whitish-grey stain the size of a thumb print on the top edge of the final quarter of the book’s pages. Those pages were inclined to clump together as if whatever had made the stain had been slightly sticky. An old food stain? I’d originally not got past the first pages, so there was little chance I’d spilled any food on it, and pale grey food? I don’t know of any.
Could it have been paint? I tried to remember if we’d used any grey paint in the room where the book had been stored, but no, and in any case, the book had been pushed to the back of the shelf, so that explanation was unlikely.
It was a mystery, and it bothered me a little as I read on, so I got a paper cutter and scooped out a wedge the size of the stain leaving a white depression on the yellowed pages. The stain was gone, but not quite forgotten. I had nearly reached the end of the book when I remembered something. The first-floor space where I keep most of my books has a large window opening out on the garden. In summertime, the window is often wide open. From time to time, a bird flies in but usually flies out again without panicking. I remembered the occasion a couple of years ago when a bird had flown in and couldn’t seem to find his way out again. He dashed at the ceiling and crashed into the walls, endangering himself as well as the paintwork. I eventually left the room in the hope that he’d calm down and find his way out before he knocked himself out. When I came back there was no sign of him and I was just about to close the window when he shot out from somewhere and whizzed passed my ear, off into the safety of the nearest tree. I wondered where he’d been hiding but then forgot all about him.
I'm thinking now that he’d been trembling in absolute terror at the back of the book shelf, and left proof of his anxious presence on the top edge of Original Bliss. Mystery solved.
Although I can't help thinking that Al Kennedy would take that whitish-grey stain and jestively suggest an entirely different explanation, something far less innocent... -
The content of this novella didn’t interest me too much, but Kennedy's wonderfully idiosyncratic prose kept my interest throughout. I love her verbs most of all, but also her nouns. Her dialogue is fun too, but sometimes lean toward the precious.
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I don't know when I've read a book of serious fiction where I've been both enchanted with the language and unable to put the book down. This short book I read in a little over a day and that a holiday as well where I was busily taken up with other things.
I'm currently trying not to by new hardbacks so I bypassed Kennedy's new novel, Paradise, for an older novel. It came just as I was packing to leave for my sister's for the holiday. It was small and seemed a likely thing to read on the weekend.
I loved the novel. It's a love story. Neither sentimental and trite nor unbelievable. With a fresh and interesting approach, completely original charaters and a strong plot (so many novels these days are weak on plot). The writing is distinct and absolutely precise. Here's a writer who's obviously thought about every word with some care, eschews phrases that fly around in the ether--in fact put every one together herself. (I get really bored with writers who just pull their language out of the air and aren't responsible for much creative in terms of language.) At the same time, Kennedy's writing is spare and clean. There's never too much detail because the detail she picks is so carefully chosen and presented that the reader is left with few doubts.
I'm not going to tell you the plot because part of the joy of the novel is that it's so improbable that such a plot would be so perfect (besides you can get some of that on Amazon if you want). I suppose I should tell you that if you don't like explicit sexual detail in what you read this one isn't for you, though Kennedy doesn't wallow in explicit detail--indeed she doesn't wallow in anything--is totally in control throughout. One will read a Kennedy novel in the future not because it's a plot one is interested in but because one will be curious to see how she will treat this new subject. -
Una raccolta che non parte benissimo, ma recupera con gli interessi (un monito a non mollare mai troppo presto un libro).
Rockaway e l'attrazione ★★
Animale ★★
I baffi di Groucho ★★★
Lontanissimi ★★★
L'amministrazione della giustizia ★★★★
Una breve conversazione riguardante la pioggia in America ★★★
L'uccello delle nevi ★★★★★
Rompere lo zucchero ★★★
Partito ★★★★★
Contatto ★★★★★
Stati di grazia ★★★★★
Cit. -
Wow! A love story like no other as my excursions into Scottish literature continue. A.L. Kennedy is daring to be sure. I was captivated by the tension in this novel between God and kink, with a strange compromise found in the end. The two main characters are unforgettable: one a repressed, abused, unhappy housewife mourning her loss of a sense of God; the other a self-help guru who also happens to be something of a compulsive pornography addict. Through all the feelings of disgust and shame, a tender albeit strange bond of love develops. "Original Bliss" makes as convincing a case as I have read in recent literature of the fact (at least this books seems to suggest that it is a "fact") that there is no single "correct" way for two people to love. I definitely want to read more of A.L. Kennedy, who stands squarely among those Scottish explorers into the dark recesses of life. She is still young, and apparently a big hit as a stand-up comic on the Glascow-Edinburgh comedy circuit (her books has its humorous moments, but I can't quite imagine her as a comic!), but she has already produced nine or so novels, and this is definitely not the last of her works I will read (stay tuned).
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Helen is an abused wife who believes that her beloved God has abandoned her. Edward is the male version of Oprah who obsessively masturbates. Sounds like a match made in heaven, right? It is, actually. Somehow, these two find solace in each other, and reading about how they battle their demons kept me up til 2 a.m. to finish the story.
It's a very quick read. The novel is only about 150-200 pages and I read it within 24 hours. The writing style is sharp and quick, like pulling off a Band-Aid. Very strange book, but I'm so glad I ran across it. -
Helen, you cant sleep beacuse you husband is a phyco, violent, asshole
Helen, there is no god.
Edward, you are afraid to love real flesh and bloood
Afraid you will be found out, you turn to pages of pornography to chase the
high you yearn.
I once read a quote a girl who pondered "can two damaged people make eachother whole"? She hoped they could. Well Helen and Edward I guess you got a chance.
Way out of my comfort zone but got it read. -
Sehr gut erzählte, spannende Liebesgeschichte.
In meinem Blog hatte ich bereits über die Verfilmung geschrieben, die ich vor ein paar Wochen gesehen hatte. Das Buch hat mir sehr gut gefallen, die Verfilmung finde ich, im Rückblick, kongenial, und fast, durch die irren Leistungen der Schauspieler Martina Gedeck und Ulrich Tukur, noch besser als das Buch. Kommt bei mir selten vor.
Die Hausfrau Helene Brindel kann schon seit einiger Zeit nicht mehr schlafen. Sie steht nachts auf, bereitet schon einmal das Frühstück für ihren Ehemann vor und schaut Fernsehen. In der Regel findet ihr Mann sie morgens schlafend auf dem Wohnzimmerteppich vor. Der Fernseher läuft immer noch. Die Fernbedienung liegt neben ihrer Hand.
Tagsüber putzt sie das ohnehin blitzblanke Haus. Sie kauft ein und bereitet aufwändige Mahlzeiten für sich und den Ehemann, die jener durchaus zu schätzen weiß, wenn er auch sonst eine unterschwellige Aggressivität ausstrahlt, die auf der Stelle begreifen lässt, warum Helene Brindel so wenig spricht. Denn ganz schnell kann ein falsches Wort, ausgesprochen oder verschwiegen, diesen Mann zum Ausrasten bringen.
Eines Tages, beim Putzen der Küchenlampe, hört sie im Radio die Stimme eines Wissenschaftler, Eduard E. Gluck, Gehirnforscher, der über die Möglichkeiten zum menschlichen Glück spricht, dass wir unendliche Kapazitäten besitzen, glücklich zu sein, dass wir diese Kapazitäten bewusst trainieren und leben lernen können.
Helene Brindel glaubte einst an Gott. Aber sie hat ihren Glauben verloren. Das ist für sie ein massives Problem. Diese Männerstimme macht ihr Hoffnung und so kontaktiert sie den Professor, trifft ihn am Rande eines Kongresses heimlich in Hamburg.
Mit diesem Treffen, das für sie die Hoffnung birgt, irgendwie zu ihrem oder einem anderen Glauben zurückfinden zu können, beginnt eine zarte, sehr berührende Liebesgeschichte von zwei Menschen, die an einer je eigenen Wand stehen und an ihrem Leben verzweifeln. Denn auch der Professor hat ein riesiges Problem... mehr dazu gerne unter
http://lobedentag.blogspot.de/2017/09... -
AL Kennedy came to my attention through a series of “philosophical” podcasts she recorded along with some other British writers. Amongst all their names, hers stood out as the only one unknown to me. On searching for her books, this one, Original Bliss, was the cheapest; a temptingly low price. The title, blurb and cover promised sex and I thought it might be something like Delta of Venus. No, it isn’t even close.
This collection takes its title from the novella but before we get to it, there are ten short stories all of which are supposed to be on the same theme. I managed to endure eight, skimming the last of these; the final two I couldn’t bring myself even to try. I didn’t like her style: frenetic, obtuse and far too much dialogue. I had an impression she was trying to prove something in using this style, trying too hard and, whatever it was she had to prove, doing it badly. Also, I didn’t find the stories that memorable, they were like feeble sketches of little consequence; what was their point?
On to the novella then and I feared the worst. However, here her style changed: it was fairly ordinary though lucid and better paced as if the extra space in a longer story suited her better. Okay, it was fairly readable but up to the moment of Gluck’s wild confession, I was getting fed up with the superficiality and silliness of the story. We’re then given this acute outpouring of pornographic terms, intending to shock us, I suppose. Well, slightly absurd, in hindsight, as the story develops. The only bit of sex is a short erotic episode which I thought she did well - maybe she could have done a Delta of Venus after all. However, I feel the novella is more to do with faith and guilt, and domestic abuse, so the cover image is all wrong and the blurb somewhat dishonest. All right, maybe Kennedy had nothing to do with these but she wrote the stories and I didn’t find them good or interesting enough. -
I have chosen to mention this book for several reasons.
1. I have it open on my bed.
2. Today I read A.L. Kennedy's blog in The Guardian and was struck by her disdain for marketing her own books. Let me do it for you, Alison, I need the practice.(See footnote).
3. We are always told that people don't buy short stories. Ahem! I bought these short stories. That proves something, doesn't it? I would rather read Original Bliss than all her other books put together. Or even just Everything You Need.
4. Any novella that begins with an Open University broadcast on the etiquette of masturbation deserves a mention at the very least.
My conclusion is that A.L. Kennedy is a very good writer who is a little odd. But then we're all a little odd, aren't we, Alison? See footnote.
Footnote: WHAT'S YOUR NAME? Oh, all right - it's Alison Louise and it's not a secret, never was - I just have a pen name and a real name. It also massively entertains a certain brand of person to be able to call me Alison with special emphasis as if we were the bestest pals in all the world. And it's nice to be able to please someone without trying - even if it's someone odd. For reasons unknown to me, many folk in the lovely world of comedy call me Al.
http://www.a-l-kennedy.co.uk/index.ph... -
I liked this and I didn't like it. Trying to write a review for this book has proved particularly difficult (this is my third attempt). Kennedy again proves adept at creating unique, damaged, and undeniably human characters. However, unlike Paradise (a later novel), the characters here were harder for me to get a grasp on. Particularly Helen Brindle. Perhaps it's my own difficulty in understanding how someone could be THAT devoted to their own faith.
I guess what matters is that I was drawn in after reading awhile (Kennedy tends to start out slowly and create a big build)..I didn't put the book down till I'd finished. It's just when I did finish I was left confused about how I felt about the whole story... -
Stati di stupore
racconti buffi, strani, poco incisivi ma insinuanti, di quelli che un po' strisciano alle spalle e ti colpiscono poi, magari mentre sei là che sbucci le cipolle te ne ricordi e ti dici: ah però...
tranne l'ultimo che invece non insinua nulla, semmai urla ad alta voce che la religione è un virus della comunicazione e che spesso le persone devono farsi male prima di accettare di amarsi...bello, ma tosto -
Every time I venture into A.L. Kennedy's territory I am astounded and deeply envious of her talent. Here is a writer who knows how to keep readers on tenterhooks, how to slowly reveal a character, & his or her deepest foibles. This is especially evident in the hugely satisfying novella, which bears the collection's name. In it, a seemingly ordinary housewife, who fears she has lost God (her "original bliss"), has in fact lost love: the ability to give and receive it. The cure nearly kills her.
"Rockaway and the Draw" is also beautifully drawn out -- who are these people and what are they doing -- as it takes us on a journey of longing for love and connection. This longing lies at the heart of all the stories, but it would be facile to say this is what they are about when there is so much more going on. Three other favourites: Groucho's Moustache, Breaking Sugar and Far Gone.
A few favourite phrases, all from "Original Bliss":
"SELF-HELP was, in itself, an unhelpful title --Mrs Brindle was unable to help herself, that was why she had bought so many books and found them so unsatisfactory." p. 158
Mrs Brindle reads in a books, The New Cybernetics: "The computer's admirable ability to store information and its rather more plodding efforts to draw conclusions from available facts are held up as the pinnacle of possible intelligence. Lack of flexibility and, above all, lack of emotional content in the storage and retrieval of information are regarded as essential. Already, in certain spheres, Reality and the hideously impoverished Virtual Reality are held to be completely interchangeable." p 161 -
This book was definitely not my cup of tea. I gave it just one star and did not get beyond the second story. The first thing that put me off was the foul language, it is not necessary and in my mind is ineloquent. At the end of the stories, I was left wondering just what they were supposed to be about.
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Stirred up some interesting conversation in my book club, but I found the characters and plot unappealing. Well-written.
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Bleak, beautiful, and painfully reverent.
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Stati di grazia è una raccolta di racconti, ma a fine lettura quello che ti rimarrà impresso sarà l’ultimo, Stati di grazia appunto che da il titolo a tutto il libro. È una sorta di romanzo breve, a cui sono stati affiancati altri racconti decisamente più corti. I primi possono essere accostabili a una specie di preparazione in vista al vero impegno di lettura, anche se è apprezzabile la scelta di non dare alle stampe un semplice racconto lungo. Non fraintendetemi, tutti i racconti sono degli ottimi racconti, narrati con una prosa gustosissima, ma quando si chiude l’ultima pagina e si guarda il volume con i segnalibro ormai appoggiato accanto e non più dentro, il ricordo è tutto per Edward E. Gluck ed Helen Brindle, nonché il signor Brindle, protagonisti dell’ultimo episodio che ti avvolge e ti immerge in ambienti differenti, con un respiro più ampio rispetto a tutti gli altri.
Il libro è come se fosse un mare che bagna una spiaggia priva di scogli, andando a lambire con le onde una spiaggia sabbiosa piena di ombrelloni. La lettura in questo caso è il tuffarsi in questo mare, lentamente, camminando via via sempre più verso il largo e lascandosi la terraferma alle spalle. All’inizio l’acqua è bassa, tocchi con estrema facilità e il mare ti arriva giustappunto a bagnarti gli stinchi; poi inizi ad allontanarti dalla riva e l’acqua ti arriva alla vita, non senti più freddo, sei pronto a tuffarti e bagnarti i capelli. Quando arrivi a leggere Stati di grazia sotto i tuoi piedi non c’è altro che acqua e acqua ancora acqua, non tocchi più e stai già nuotando tranquillamente senza paura in un mare limpido. -
Helen has lost God and punishes herself by staying in an abusive marriage, while Edward is trapped in his own bad habit of self-abuse. Both are looking for a savior in all the wrong places until they meet each other. A.L. Kennedy explores an unorthodox courtship between a battered woman and porn addicted man with heartbreaking honesty and humor. Helen and Edward's relationship is one that reminds us how important it is to have patience, acceptance, and forgiveness (both of the self and for others) when it comes to love. Even the most damaged among us can heal if there is someone who can give us what we need.
Kennedy's voice is wholly original as she punctuates minimalist language with shocking twists and surprises. She navigates between the introverted Helen and boisterous Edward with ease and believability, despite their overtly strong personalities. Themes of love, morality, abuse, and faith are handled in thought provoking ways that challenge any reader to question their own beliefs. Well worth a read for those who enjoy literature that is fearless in broaching taboo subjects. -
I picked this up as I have enjoyed A.L.Kennedy’s writing and this was another A.L.Kennedy so it seemed like a good plan......be warned a spoiler follows in the next paragraph but the very same spoiler is in the Amazon book description above.
While it’s not my normal cup of tea in a book I was prepared for the sexual encounters as they are clearly referenced in the blurb on the back. I was also prepared for those encounters to probably all have some sort of bleakness hanging over them as this is A.L.Kennedy after all in perhaps her bleakest writing period. However I really wished I had also initially read the Amazon blurb. Then I would have been prepared for the sudden and deeply unsettling domestic violence in the novella section of the book. I may even have been put off the idea of reading it at all if I had of known. However I am also sort of glad that I didn’t have the opportunity to take that path. As other reviewers say try not to let the subject deter you from experiencing this remarkable book. -
The less said about this book before reading, the better. I just know it's one of the only really convincing love stories I've read in a long time and that the ending made my cry like a baby for reasons that not even I can explain.
The main character is refreshingly witty and painstakingly complex, the sort of character sunk so deep into pain that I cannot imagine how hard it would be to write her and break her down. After meeting Edward, a self-help guru with a painful sexual addiction that brings him constant shame, a delicate and intricate relationship blossoms between them that crackles with the sort of kinship and understanding we all wish we could find in someone.
I'm shelving it as romance and nobody can tell me otherwise. Fight me. -
Una obra esperanzadora en un mundo atribulado por la información sexual cada diez pasos, un mundo mediatizado y bombardeado por falsos profetas y gurús de tercera que aprovechan la soledad que encierra a una humanidad que apunta hacia los suicidios colectivos, y además, un texto que rebasa con creces las relaciones amorosas, vistas desde la perspectiva de lo funcional, de lo práctico que es estar acompañado, de tener a alguien a tu lado de quien depender y para quien corresponder atenciones recibidas. [Guillermo Jiménez, Febrero 16, 2005]
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i wish i could give three and half stars. after a somewhat tedious 50 pages, the story finally begins to pick up and i finally started to care about the characters. from it's boring start it quickly segues into some very disturbing sexual content. there is violence in this book, but what i was so imperssed with, was kennedy's ability to turn some very despicable behavior on its head and to get me to like and root for these people. it's a very unlikely love story, but maybe that's why it was so satisfying in the end.
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I read
So I Am Glad: A Novel ages ago and remember it as odd and sweet and moving. After years of vaguely meaning to read another A.L. Kennedy I finally picked up this one, and had exactly the same reaction to it. It's sort of about God and domestic violence and porn addiction but it's actually about two people who don't believe they are deserving of love and what happens when they meet. And it's just lovely. -
I was thinking about how much I liked this novel the other day and how that fondness is akin to what I feel for the movie "Secretary." Both challenged my definitions of love and both had a deep tenderness for those who find that love in unconventional places. Kennedy is a fierce writer and not everyone's cup of tea -- I don't often recommend for that reason. But she's also brilliant and a remarkable technician, IMHO, and this is perhaps my favorite of the half dozen I've read.
