Beautiful writing but not very interesting characters or events. ( )

Het moet meer dan 50 jaar geleden zijn dat ik dit boek voor het eerst las, in het Engels. Nu beluisterde ik het in het Nederlands & ik vond het nog steeds erg goed, geestig, scherp. Sommige scènes stonden in mijn geheugen gegrift, zoals hoofdpersoon Dennis Stone die zijn onwillige geblesseerde geliefde Anne ridderlijk omhoog wil dragen maar al snel jammerlijk struikelt, of de drie anorexe zusters die in een geheim vertrek elke dag uitvoerig plegen te eten. Er is niet zozeer een intrige, maar het boek is eerder een zedenschets, omlijst door de aankomst van de jonge ambitieuze gretige dichter van een bundel, Dennis, door wiens ogen de lezer vaak kijkt, en zijn gedesillusioneerd, enigszins halfslachtig vertrek uit het landhuis Crome. Dat het tot op zekere hoogte Bloomsbury parodieert is nu eigenlijk minder interessant. Bij de vorige lezing identificeerde ik mij vanzelf meer met Dennis, nu keek ik geamuseerder en meewariger naar hem. Gastheer Henry Wimbush leest boeiende verhalen voor uit de geschiedenis van het huis, zijn vrouw Priscilla (Ottoline?) dweept met een psychologie-kwakzalver, de al bijna 30-jarige getalenteerde woest aantrekkelijke schilder Gombaud flirt met prickteaser Anne, de jonge, serieuze, moderne Mary wil vooral haar seksualiteit op correcte wijze beleven en wordt verleid door Ivor, een 25-jarige bloedmooie alleskunner (die ik na 50 jaar nog steeds uit jaloezie onuitstaanbaar vond), die al snel weer naar het volgende landhuis trekt, de dove Jenny leeft in haar eigen wereld leeft en kan sarcastisch schetsen en ook drummen, de mysterieuze mister Scogan, een oude vriend van Henry, is de welbespraakte en docerende buitenstaander, geen bright young thing maar een realistische of gedesillusioneerde, ironische, filosofisch aangelegde observator die voortdurend zijn uitvoerige commentaren op alles aan de soms onwillige luisteraars opdringt. In deze stem horen we al Brave New World aankondigen, veel van zijn observaties zijn profetisch (ook BNW vond ik bij herlezing heel goed geconserveerd). Deze personen voeren verschillende scènes op: wandelen in het maanlicht, gesprekken na het diner, het verplicht organiseren van de dorpskermis, bezoek aan het atelier enzovoorts. Alles zo fris en puntig geschreven (en vertaald) dat dit boek na 100 jaar nog steeds niet verouderd is. ( )

I went into this book expecting for it to either a bore or a completely captivating story, but it was neither. I definitely was not expecting to become as sad as I did when the book ended, even right up to the last page I was not expecting to be so saddened. For that reason and many others I believe this has to be one of the best books of such length I have ever read. ( )

I was in my 20's when i last read this, somewhere between 25 and 30 years ago, and i still think it's a very good book.

There is, however, a problem with this book: Aldous was very clearly a product of Victorian England and his use of words really reflect this, especially in his early writing, and there are the very occasional racial words/comments used -- which i counted twice.

It's a very awkward place to find oneself, caught between two cultures.   By my standards the use of such language is completely unacceptable, yet, having read a few Victorian books and also post Victorian books, like this, written by those who were educated by Victorians, it is clear that the use of such language was, very much, the standard of the day.

Do we now throw the babies out with the bath water?   Admittedly, by contemporary standards, the bathwater we are dealing with is now considered untreated sewage, but in it's day it was considered fit for drinking.   I certainly don't feel that Aldous was, in anyway, being racist and derogatory, but simply using the words and cliches of his day.

As to the rest of the book it is very clearly a satire and critique of England in the early 1920's and it's very clear that Aldous was not supporting of many views expressed in this book, but laying bare the thinking and ideas of his day.   If you are interested you can read much more about this on it's Wiki page.

The interesting thing for me is that just over 5 years ago i spent 3 years living at one of England's great houses and its huge estate, including parklands, shrubberies, woods, Italian gardens, ponds, lakes, etc., and it certainly made reading about Crome a whole different experience.   Sadly, to be honest, the upper classes, and their sycophants, haven't really changed much from the attitudes and behaviour satirised and parodied within Crome Yellow.

This book is also, very much, the forerunner to Brave New World, and i would suggest a must read for fans of that book. ( )

Chrome Yellow by Aldous Huxley was his debut novel and was originally published in 1921. Although a social satire of it’s time, I am afraid that this book hasn’t held up well as it seemed exceedingly dated to me. Unfortunately my take away from the book was that it was quite dull and largely pointless.

The story follows Denis Stone, a young aspiring writer, as he goes to stay at a country house called Crome. Denis appears to be suffering from a case of puppy love, but the object of his desire seems to find him too young and is amused by his attentions. The other guests are a varied group of eccentrics and are apparently thinly disguised portraits of Huxley’s acquaintances in real life. Other than some historical lectures and a few religious sermons not a lot happens. I was crying out for a murder and a visit from Hercule Poirot to liven things up!

As I mention above, Crome Yellow is the author’s debut novel and seemed to me a loosely disguised critique of various cardboard characters and their ability to pontificate about life, culture, philosophy, etc. without really saying very much at all. ( )