Lit I can't fucking finish Nausea by Sartre. I've gotten 20 pages in in 4 days, I finished The Metamorphosis in 1 day and I did the same with The Stranger. Is it okay if I drop the book and pick up something else more fun and then come back to it? I feel bad about dropping a book but this one is just fucking not fun.
It's not OK. I'm on page 250 of nicholas nickleby and still have 450 to go. I've been at this stage for months and read nothing in that time.
IT'S CALLED BEING A PATRICIAN
>>8169715
Just drop it already or at least stop posting about it
>>8169709
Holy shit that's slow, I struggle with Zarathustra alot tought, takes me 1 hour to read and understand 10 pages.
to be quite honest with you I hate Sartre's prose. It's so sterile.
>>8169709
It fluctuates between good parts and dry parts, but the dry parts are dry as fuck and the good parts aren't great, just good. If you skip the digressions where he goes on about historical events for the book he's writing you'll miss nothing.
>>8170062
Yeah that's the sense I get. I have no fucking clue why he's talking about a made up book within a book.
>>8169709
Sartre fucking sucks. Life is too short to read stuff that sucks. Move on.
>>8169709
nigga this book (Nausea) is so good, just keep slogging through and I swear you won't regret it.
>I was no longer in Bouville, I was nowhere, I was floating. I was not surprised, I knew it was the World, the naked World suddenly revealing itself, and I choked with rage at this gross, absurd being. You couldn't even wonder where all that sprang from, or how it was that a world came into existence, rather than nothingness. It didn't make sense, the World was everywhere, in front, behind. There had been nothing before it. Nothing. There had never been a moment in which it could not have existed. That was what worried me: of course there was no reason for this flowing larva to exist. But it was impossible for it not to exist. It was unthinkable: to imagine nothingness you had to be there already, in the midst of the World, eyes wide open and alive; nothingness was only an idea in my head, an existing idea floating in this immensity: this nothingness had not come before existence, it was an existence like any other and appeared after many others. I shouted "filth! what rotten filth!" and shook myself to get rid of this sticky filth, but it held fast and there was so much, tons and tons of existence, endless: I stifled at the depths of this immense weariness. And then suddenly the park emptied as through a great hole, the World disappeared as it had come, or else I woke up—in any case, I saw no more of it; nothing was left but the yellow earth around me, out of which dead branches rose upward.
is it okay? you dont need permission from anyone. but if you're 20 pages in, you don't know shit about the book (which is great by the way) and youre dropping it because of your own shortcomings. now post more emma you faget
>>8170128
What the fuck is that sentence fragment?
