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Title | : | A Lover's Discourse: Fragments |
Author | : | Roland Barthes |
Book Format | : | Paperback |
Book Edition | : | Deluxe Edition |
Pages | : | Pages: 234 pages |
Published | : | 1979 by Hill and Wang (first published 1977) |
Categories | : | Philosophy. Nonfiction. Writing. Essays. Theory. Cultural. France |

Roland Barthes
Paperback | Pages: 234 pages Rating: 4.37 | 7073 Users | 518 Reviews
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A Lover's Discourse, at its 1978 publication, was revolutionary: Roland Barthes made unprecedented use of the tools of structuralism to explore the whimsical phenomenon of love. Rich with references ranging from Goethe's Werther to Winnicott, from Plato to Proust, from Baudelaire to Schubert, A Lover's Discourse artfully draws a portrait in which every reader will find echoes of themselves.Describe Books In Pursuance Of A Lover's Discourse: Fragments
Original Title: | Fragments d'un discours amoureux |
ISBN: | 0374521611 (ISBN13: 9780374521615) |
Edition Language: | English |
Literary Awards: | National Book Award Finalist for Translation (1979), Премія «Сковорода» (2007) |
Rating Of Books A Lover's Discourse: Fragments
Ratings: 4.37 From 7073 Users | 518 ReviewsWrite Up Of Books A Lover's Discourse: Fragments
Read full review on: https://thereadingarmchair.blogspot.c...A Lover's Discourse is a book that I recently read and I have to say that it was a stimulating read. Before I go into details though, I will tell you of how I became aware of its existence. As I was browsing my social media (I know, I know) I came upon this wonderful quote that described the way that I was feeling at the moment. The quote went like this:"Am I in love? -- yes, since I am waiting. The other one never waits. Sometimes IWhen Roland Barthes looks at the language of love it becomes something almost sinister. Whenever I say "I Love You," it gives me a couple of moments of serious thinking!
cacher / to hideA deliberative figure: the amorous subject wonders, not whether he should declare his love to the loved being (this is not a figure of avowal), but to what degree he should conceal the turbulences of his passion: his desires, his distresses; in short, his excesses (in Racinian language: his fureur).Yet to hide a passion totally (or even to hide, more simply, its excess) is inconceivable: not because the human subject is too weak, but because passion is in essence made to be seen:

Language is a skin: I rub my language against the other. It is as if words instead of fingers, or fingers at the tip of my words. My language trembles with desire. - This is a book you either read over a period of time, in spurts, in fragments as it is written, or you binge read in a couple of days, like I have. Each chapter is a definition, a philosophical tease, a shortened version of what could be a lecture or an erudite discussion on life and love; after all, Barthes made his living as
I had one friend in particular-- I'm sure most of us have-- who, somewhere around his fifth drink, was vulnerable to going into the "why don't girls liiiiiiike me?" bitchfest, and, if interested in someone, "why doesn't (X) liiiiiike me as much as I liiiiiiike her?""Well, sir," I would have said had I read this book by then. "Roland might be a good guy for you to talk to. He'll tell you that if you're the sort of person who prevaricates over things and worries about the meanings of their words,
The nerdiest book I reach for when falling in love or feeling heartbroken. A semiotic study of many moods and flavors of romantic love: "Jealousy"4. As a jealous man, I suffer four times over: because I am jealous, because I blame myself for being so, because I fear that my jealousy will wound the other, because I allow myself to be subject to a banality: I suffer from being excluded, from being aggressive, from being crazy, and from being common."The Uncertainty of Signs"whether he seeks to
If there is any such thing as a good headache, then Roland Barthes has been successful in giving me one. This was a heavy (no, not the weight of the book, just heavy going, but in grandiose way!), irrefutable, and intense read, where, with the recreation of the lover's fevered consciousness he goes about deconstructing love, to write maybe the the most detailed, painstaking anatomy of desire that we are ever likely to see. Simply put, these are his thoughts on love, in the form of short essays,
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