Synopses & Reviews
In these fourteen essays Andre Aciman, one of the most poignant stylists of his generation, dissects the experience of loss, moving from his forced departure from Alexandria as a teenager, though his brief stay in Europe and finally to the home he's made (and half invented) on Manhattan's Upper West Side.
André Aciman was born in Alexandria; raised in Egypt, Italy, and France; and educated at Harvard. A frequent contributor to The New Yorker, The New York Review of Books, and The New Republic, he is the author of Out of Egypt. He teaches literature at Bard and lives in Manhattan.
A New York Times Notable Book
In these fourteen essays André Aciman, one of the most poignant stylists of his generation, dissects the experience of loss, moving from his forced departure from Alexandria as a teenager, though his brief stay in Europe and finally to the home he has made (and half invented) on Manhattan's Upper West Side.
"Over and over in the course of these linked essays Aciman shows himself wanting to be elsewhere . . . You don't need to have lost an Alexandria to understand what he does with place and time and memory. After all, we are all exiles in a wayfrom our own childhoods, our own pasts, if nothing else. It is that remembered aspect of ourselves, that shadowy other life, that Andre Aciman's new book so piercingly addresses."Wendy Lesser, The New York Times Book Review
"André Aciman is the prince of nostalgia."Susan Salter Reynolds, Los Angeles Times Book Review
"The incomplete and unstable state of nostalgia is what Aciman tries to fix in this beautiful memoir. He lives in his mind. But sharing that mind is a rare privilege."Barbara Fisher, The Boston Sunday Globe
"One feels that if Proust had not existed Mr. Aciman would have invented him."Richard Bernstein, The New York Times
"Aciman is merely reminding us of what we already know deep down; Memory, in the end, is an act of imagination . . . Sometimes . . . the world meets our expectations, and sometimesnot often, but on a few special occasionswe receive more than we ever imagined."Jon Tribble, Chicago Tribune
"Astute . . . lyrical . . . agile . . . Each piece here develops a facet of Aciman's paradoxical philosophy of home and exile, in which the art if remembering the lost homeland becomes 'the ultimate homecoming.'"Michael Upchurch, The Seattle Times
"A carefully wrought collection of very personal with universal theme-home, place, deracination . . . This is writing (and thinking) at its finest. Aciman sees all, past and present, from a substantial distance. Being from neither here nor there has its advantages."Michael J. Agovino, Time Out New York
Review
"Over and over in the course of these linked essays Aciman shows himself wanting to be elsewhere . . . You don't need to have lost an Alexandria to understand what he does with place and time and memory. After all, we are all exiles in a way-from our own childhoods, our own pasts, if nothing else. It is that remembered aspect of ourselves, that shadowy other life, that Andre Aciman's new book so piercingly addresses."--Wendy Lesser,
NYTBR"The incomplete and unstable state of nostalgia is what Aciman tries to fix in this beautiful memoir. He lives in his mind. But sharing that mind is a rare privilege."--Barbara Fisher, The Boston Sunday Globe
"One feels that if Proust had not existed Mr Aciman would have invented him."--Richard Bernstein, The New York Times
Synopsis
From the highly acclaimed author of Out of Egypt and Call Me by Your Name, a series of linked essays on memory by "the poet of disappointed love--and of the city" (New York Times Book Review).
In these fourteen essays Andre Aciman, one of the most poignant stylists of his generation, dissects the experience of loss, moving from his forced departure from Alexandria as a teenager, though his brief stay in Europe and finally to the home he's made (and half invented) on Manhattan's Upper West Side.
From False Papers We remember not because we have something we wish to go back to, nor because memories are all we have. We remember because memory is our most intimate, most familiar gesture. Most people are convinced I love Alexandria. In truth, I love remembering Alexandria. For it is not Alexandria that is beautiful. Remembering is beautiful.
Synopsis
In these fourteen essays Andre Aciman, one of the most poignant stylists of his generation, dissects the experience of loss, moving from his forced departure from Alexandria as a teenager, though his brief stay in Europe and finally to the home he's made (and half invented) on Manhattan's Upper West Side.
About the Author
A regular contributor to
The New Yorker,
The New York Review of Books, and
The New Republic,
Andre Aciman was born in Alexandria; raised in Egypt, Italy, and France; and educated at Harvard. He teaches literature at Bard and lives in Manhattan.