Checkout 19

A Novel

De: Claire-Louise Bennett

Narrado por: Claire-Louise Bennett

A NEW YORK TIMES 10 BEST BOOKS OF THE YEAR AND A NEW YORKER "ESSENTIAL READ"

NAMED A BEST BOOK OF THE YEAR BY THE NEW YORKER AND VOGUE

“Bennett writes like no one else. She is a rare talent, and Checkout 19 is a masterful novel.” –Karl Ove Knausgaard

From the author of the “dazzling. . . . and daring” Pond (O magazine), the adventures of a young woman discovering her own genius, through the people she meets–and dreams up–along the way.

In a working-class town in a county west of London, a schoolgirl scribbles stories in the back pages of her exercise book, intoxicated by the first sparks of her imagination. As she grows, everything and everyone she encounters become fuel for a burning talent. The large Russian man in the ancient maroon car who careens around the grocery store where she works as a checkout clerk, and slips her a copy of Beyond Good and Evil. The growing heaps of other books in which she loses–and finds–herself. Even the derailing of a friendship, in a devastating violation. The thrill of learning to conjure characters and scenarios in her head is matched by the exhilaration of forging her own way in the world, the two kinds of ingenuity kindling to a brilliant conflagration.

Exceeding the extraordinary promise of Bennett’s mold-shattering debut, Checkout 19 is a radical affirmation of the power of the imagination and the magic escape those who master it open to us all.

©2022 Claire-Louise Bennett (P)2022 Penguin Audio

Reseñas de la Crítica

“Singular. . . The prized darkness at the center of the human mind, the place where whatever is really real about us resides, is what Checkout 19 dedicates itself to protecting.”—The New Yorker

“Wildly imaginative, unabashedly odd and mordantly funny . . . . This book-full-of-books is a gift and proof of a rare talent. . . . a volume to be consumed whole, on one long, strange trip. . . . [in which] the deep magic of writing is revealed.”—Los Angeles Times

“If you’ve had your fill of autofiction, thanks—don’t lose interest just yet. . . . The life Bennett describes is one blown open by imaginative writing … and by the transformative and transportive nature of reading.”—The New York Times

A few too many shards

I loved the innovative storytelling and the channeling of Anne Quinn or Virginia Woolf or Leonora Carrington in this piece. Super high marks for the attempt. And I'm sure part of my disappointment comes from missing cues I wish I were smart-enough or informed-enough to have recognized. I am sure its very clever for the bits I did recognize, I really enjoyed.

Bennett masterfully contrasts the brainy aspirations the narrator has formed from her imaginings and the things she has read on the page with the reality of her life at checkout-19. Despite this juxtaposition, In terms of eliciting an emotional response, this book did not do it. I felt nothing.

Although the pacing felt slow and the hiccuping style dragged on the story, I never found the book dreary or boring. There were spells when I was lost in the shattered fragments, not sure if I was in the narrator's imagination, in her reality, or in some story she had written. Despite losing the thread of the story, I remained engaged. This must be due to the repetition and poetic voice. Anyway, I did like this book. I found it very intriguing.

I think what she is doing is artful and clever. I'm not sure it is entirely successful.

I wish the story stayed with the exploration of her creativity and didn't get sidetracked into all the other aspects of her life. I feel the style lent itself very well to showing us how thoughts drift in, drift out, develop, grow, fade, vanish, become monstrous, turn into a tale, resolve. But when she was trying to tell the story of a women from a poor area of Brighton, I felt the style choice was in the way. Still, Kudos to Bennett for the attempt and for making it onto the NYTimes Best Books of 2022. I'm quite sure it deserved that ranking. I recommand any struggling fiction writer to read it. Butt keep an open mind.

Hmmm …

A strange story. Yes. That’s right. But beautiful writing. Once I sat back and stopped trying to follow every incongruous thread and simply let the words wash over me like poetry I enjoyed the experience a lot more.

Interesting

Very interesting and unusual book - I enjoyed it. Strange and varied it's worth a read

Exquisite.

A captivating voice. Did I enjoy it? Yes. Yes I did. I got the actual book from the library. I had taken out seven other books. Turns out I only wanted one. Only one at the time. Yes, this one was deliciously intriguing. Hard to imagine anyone reading it other than the author. Might have been difficult to get into it had I not heard her reading it. But I wanted to review parts esp. the interesting references to other authors and books.

Almost poetry

Beautifully written, put me right there, felt like poetry at times . Loved the off ramps and tangents

Fascinating

I loved this insightful story about how a writer’s mind works - the narration was incredible - I definitely want to read more of her writing.

Magical original cheeky limpid

Most astounding book I’ve read in years. Recommended by another great genius, Sebastian Barry. I am rereading it now!

NY Times bestseller?

I don’t think I’m smart enough or well-read enough to enjoy this strange book! Many books referenced. (Millions of books) Words, images, stories not linked to any plot-line that I could decipher. Except for Tarquin Superbus of course! Wonderful British presentation by the author!!

Smart woman comes of Age in Brittain

A book, a novel, stream of consciously, of a woman talking to herself. Brilliant! And beautifully read.

Alternatingly fascinating and frustrating

I'll begin by saying that I am confident that there are people who will love this book. The structure of the prose is interesting and often delightful, reminiscent of Virginia Woolf. I've seen some people describe the writing style as stream of consciousness, which is as good a description as any, I suppose, but I feel that that term suggests a level of internal logic to the long digressions (this thought naturally leads to that thought naturally leads to a third thought) that this book lacks. While there are passages that follow a natural flow of ideas, these are often disrupted by abrupt changes of topic that leave the reader temporarily disoriented. That is not necessarily a bad thing--in some ways it is even thrilling--but more often than not, these shifts left me feeling disconnected and disinvested.

My chief complaint is that I often found the narrator to be insufferable and rather juvenile. For example, the lengthy third chapter is organized entirely around a braggadocious list of all the books and authors the narrator has read--the sort of showing off that I might have done in my twenties. There is also a passage in which the narrator attributes mystic powers to the written word with a naive earnestness that recalls the melodrama of Dead Poets Society, a film which I admit enthralled me in my younger days and imbued me with just the sort of youthful intellectual snobbery that would have led me to brag about all the books and authors I had read. I recognize that my negative feelings about the narrator arise, in part, because I had difficulty identifying with the character, being separated from her both by gender and by age (although I rarely have difficulty at least sympathizing with female characters). But there were certainly moments that I felt I was supposed to instantly recognize as universal (or at least common) experiences--a la Proust's description of the flood of memories brought on by encountering a familiar taste or odor (e.g., the tea and madeleines)--that simply did not resonate with me. (Are there people who share the narrator's resentment of the last paragraph on right pages?)

Ultimately, I must conclude that this book is simply not for me, and that is perfectly all right. There will be people who see themselves in the narrator and understand the world and their own experiences better because of her observations.