Anna is one sick and sad woman, I grant you that, and how did the author put it. No violence, pain or perversion, just passionate, lustful, intense sex between consenting adults. She loves her husband, three children, and being a homemaker, or hausfrau. I have no flippin' clue. Anna is an American woman in Switzerland, with a somewhat aloof and at times cruel Swiss husband and three children. Unlike many readers I do not dislike Anna.
I typically read books about very strong women, those who overcome society's roadblocks and restrictions, who make their own way in the world. A brilliant novel this — although very uncomfortable reading at times, at the heart of it is an amazingly drawn character, Anna, who I absolutely detested. The protagonist is a 37-year-old woman who engages in a series of affairs; as unlikable main characters go, the titular hausfrau housewife , Anna, is up there. And you know what, I really did like this aspect of it. Do characters have to justify their personalities? And so it goes, her life circling the drain slowly - lazily at first, then swirling quicker and quicker, moving towards what you fear may be an inevitable conclusion.
To some degree, we are all a mass of contradictions but Anna takes it to extremes. She felt totally disconnected and out of her own depth. This clever device serves to emphasize Anna's growing isolation, the rigid structure and unforgiving cages that she finds herself in. Your characterization of what you didn't like was one of a kind. Her life before her marriage is never discussed in her therapy sessions.
If that's the way Essbaum thinks that psychotherapy is conducted, then anyone could be a psychotherapist without even any training or education. Life can be a glorious journey and my heart goes out to all the Anna's out there who feel otherwise. But whether it is going to warm your hearth or burn down your house, you can never tell. And burn and burn and burn. The book then deteriorates back to its previous suckiness level.
In a grave tone he informs me I must study my reflexive verbs. She and how she handled or did not handle things, irritated me. This was well written without a doubt and most of my friends here seemed to have loved it. In fact Mary was probably the only person I met in this story that I had a soft spot for.
Alas, it did not happen. But it also seemed a bit more like a male's writing. Tensions escalate, and her lies start to spin out of control. The whole dynamic between Husband and Wife is fascinating — they seem permanently at odds yet often terribly together. The narrative is poorly organized, with expository flashbacks rudely interrupting present-day occurrences throughout.
Essbaum's book will never be nominated for a , but the descriptions are graphic to the point of gratuitous at times, and sometimes crude. Anna's husband is a huge asshole. Reading about lustful-passionate-raw-intimate-sex between a man and a woman is bound to stimulate aspects of eros! Where the wind blew, she went. Let me tell you another completely hackneyed thing about the book: Anna's German lessons. She is depressed, lonely, bored, detached, aimless, hopeless, with occasional forays into guilty, apprehensive, and obsessed.
? Unfortunately, the characterization is cardboard, and as such, makes it hard to connect with anyone. The erotic extravaganza became stale and bland. She has no ambitions for a career, no hobbies, no real friends, no one she can really talk with. She'd entered into her life in the middle of its story.