10 of 11 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Misunderstood, May 9, 2001
The first sequel to AEgypt, Love & Sleep chronicles lovelorn and adrift Pierce Moffett as he stands upon the cusp of a magical change in history. Simultaneously, we view the brief encounter between Giordano Bruno and John Dee at Mortlake in the late 16th century, Pierce's own childhood in the Cumberland mountains, and begin to see deeply into the lives of Pierce's two roses (Rose Ryder and Rosie Rasmussen). This book seems to have been unpopular with some Crowley fans, perhaps because it almost entirely lacks any sort of action, and is instead a lyrical, brooding meditation on change and age. It is also true that some of the Renaissance scenes are over-long, windy, and at times do not quite ring true. Further, it is a sequel, and what's more will have two more sequels of its own; the third book in the series, Daemonomania, is already out, but who knows when book 4 will appear? Although I would grant all these criticisms, it is Crowley's graceful prose that makes this book such an extraordinary achievement. AEgypt was a bit unfocused, seemingly unsure where it was going; Love & Sleep takes wing and soars. Crowley's ear for modern speech is exceptional, and he also manages to clutch us emotionally without ever dipping into maudlin or pathos. Furthermore, the way he weaves together oddities of Renaissance magical history and mythology with the modern world is breathtaking --- Bobby Shaftoe's werewolf father is hauntingly real, human, and deeply felt. For me, this is Crowley's best book since Little, Big, but it's certainly not for the quick reader. Love & Sleep requires a good deal of effort and time from the reader, and we must be prepared to surrender to the homely, slow pace of the prose.
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7 of 8 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Haunting, February 3, 2006
Volume two of Crowley's vast novel "Aegypt": I alternated between rapture and discomfort while reading this. The first third, relating some episodes from the main character's childhood, is exquisite by any standard; but the rest of the book suffers as a reading experience from jagged transitions and maddening enigmas. Great set-pieces and superb bits of writing are to be found in it--as well as a jaw-dropping shock for anyone the tiniest bit prudish--but the overall impression is that the book is adrift. There is no specific flow or flavor to "Love & Sleep" as a whole, like there is in "Aegypt"'s astonishingly great first volume.
These were my thoughts, reading it. I went on with reluctance to "Daemonomania", only to find it wonderful. In addition, it provided enough perspective on the events of "Love & Sleep" to make them wonderful for me in hindsight.
Here's the thing: this is not a "tetralogy". It is ALL ONE BOOK, one already somewhere between "War & Peace" and "Clarissa" in length. There are certain organic divisions within the book, but they don't always neatly match the cut-off points of the volumes. The latter two-thirds of "L&S" flow right into "Daemonomania", and most of the many mysteries introduced in it are developed to fullness in that volume.
The tone of "L&S" is purposely difficult: the characters are lost, their worlds fragmented. "Aegypt: The Solitudes" is something of a book of youth, of discovery and gathering power; "Love & Sleep" deals with setbacks, detours, bafflements. "Daemonomania" continues these but shows people gradually putting themselves together within the chaos, and discovering ways of coping with a reality that does not love them. The book ends with the foot finally back on the path, and knowing, finally, how to stay on it.
Crowley takes ridiculous artistic risks, especially in writing depression depressingly, but they all pay off: he deserves your trust and patience. This volume haunts me as much as the others of this amazing work. I expect it will reread exquisitely.
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3 of 3 people found the following review helpful:
4.0 out of 5 stars
Magical Mystery Tour, January 27, 2009
This review is from: Love & Sleep (Agypt Cycle) (Paperback)
I must say that these other reviews are not too terribly helpful to a prospective reader who has perhaps just heard of Crowley, wonders what all the to-do is about and has chanced across this webpage. This review is directed at such a reader, as indeed I myself am, still, having now finished three of Crowley's works.
Righto, the first thing to which one has to accustom oneself here is this notion, elaborated and elaborated upon herein with no end of abstruse patented Crowleyan hermetic lore, that probably everyone with any imagination has at one time had: What if, say, two seconds ago, the world as we now know it just came into being complete with a history etc., quite different from what it was two seconds ago? This is the simplest way I know to put this fixation of Crowley's (or of Pierce Moffett's). But, what if, also, and this is the catch, the driving force behind the entire Crowley enterprise, there might be some way to get back that other world before everything changed in.....name your date and time?
Here is Pierce's declaration upon the subject, at one point in the book:
"He had read to this conclusion once, and then he had pondered it for a long time before he saw what he had here, which was an explanation for the history of magic that answered every need, solved every historical crux, satisfied the skeptic and the ardent seeker both, and had only the one drawback of its complete absurdity."
And of course it is absurd, complete twaddle. Parts of this book truly make one want to tear one's hair out! So - I hear my hypothetical prospective reader asking - why do you bother, should I bother, reading Crowley? The answer, I should say, is that, despite the twaddle, Crowley's work is lovely, meditative and deeply hypnotic. It's just not quite like anything else to be found, though you search long.
Here, for instance, is a lovely passage on memory, rivalling that of the famous one of Saint Augustine:
"But isn't that what memory is always doing? Making bricks without straw, mortaring them in place one by one into a so-called past, a labyrinth actually, in which to hide a monster, or a monstrosity?"
And there are wistful reflections on his quest's futility, poignant as anything written:
"But if that moment of possibility was gone (was not anything but illusion now, and therefore had not ever been anything but illusion) then what was it that had come close to him in his sitting room as he looked out at the roses? What had brushed by him and touched his cheek?
Only the wind of its passage away."
I'm quite sure that many of us have had numinous moments like this, moments of enchantment, wonder, a sense of being between two worlds. This book plumbs the depths of those moments you very likely dismissed. I should hasten to add that much of this ends up concerning dreams, love and relations between the sexes. This is what makes Crowley magical and well worth the read - despite all the hermetic humbug.
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