Sweet Days of Discipline
Reviews
me aburrió y por momentos me perdí. el tipo de escritura es bonito, pero demasiado poético para mi gusto, siento que la escritora se enfocó más en adornar la escritura que darle cuerpo a la trama, porque no logré empatizar con ningún personaje (especialmente con la protagonista y su obsesión enfermiza hacia frédérique) y no me pude introducir de lleno en la historia. aparte que sentí como que nunca pasaba nada.
this one goes out to the girls idolized and idolizing.....being a teenager is hard but cool girls make it more interesting. This is what it's like to be young and stifled and lost, yet still nostalgic for the time when possibilities were endless. the world seems smaller and sadder the older you get, but the ways we contextualize ourselves in our youth stay with us forever. "childhood is ancient." very very special little book!
Only wish it was longer. Boarding school peeps, it's a must read.
I didn't enjoy this book. The timeline was extremely blurry, the narrator is a terrible person, and there was nothing in the narrative nor plot that pulled me into the story. I'm glad it was as short as it was, because man I had to push myself to get through it. I do not reccomend this story.
I sped through Sweet Days of Discipline and honestly, I didn’t love it. I’m not sure if reading it all in one sprint made me like it less? I just... didn’t get it? It’s set at a boarding school. The protagonist becomes fixated on a new student and is obsessed with conquering her. But, not much happens? Not a lot of plot, not a lot of character development, IMO. It just wasn’t a favorite or that enjoyable to me personally, as I like either really strong plot or really strong characters, and it’s rare that I love a book without either. Some reviews say it’s beautifully written but I found it sparse and lacking detail in a way that was a jarring and confusing.
my niche: cruel little girls with unsettling and staccato prose. what else could a dummy dumb dumb like me want?
Highlights
... We were fetishists.
The French mistress looked like a sad man, especially in the light, near the window, behind the teacher's desk. She asked me questions. I didn't answer. She had short, grey wavy hair, hands like a priest's, pressed together. Behind her austere gaze it was as if she were trying to beg almost, there was a never-to-be-satisfied supplication, a purity even, the purity of a loser, a mixture of fleeting desperation and stubbornness. They hang on, this kind. They teach right to the end, on their deathbeds. They read a penultimate poem.
[...] from the very first day I always felt, despite a certain inferiority on my part in comparison with her, that before becoming close we would have to go through certain phases. Like in a battle.
[...] I remember our conversations as always being surrounded by freshness.
My term of comparison for what I was doing was force. I must conquer her, she must admire me.
Paradigm shift, manifestation
Frederique told me I was an aesthete. It was a new word for me, but it immediately made sense.
Paradigm shift
It's common knowledge that a new leader will hate the predecessor's favourites. A boarding school is like a harem.
I looked over to the window, and the window returned my expression and had me dozing off.
Response from a mirror or a window
At school - though, I think it goes without saying - she was top in everything.
Paradigm shift
This book appears on the shelf On kindle
This book appears on the shelf Philosophy history and life
This book appears on the shelf Authors of colour
