I knew when I set eyes on this book’s title that I was going to love it. It is so imperfectly perfect, so beautifully flawed, so darkly comforting for someone like me.There are many statements in On the Heights of Despair I don’t agree with. I found Cioran’s take on women and on the difference betwe...
A sad, haunting, melancholic book - a meditation on the totalitarian impulse of the lyrical. Some fabulous material in Part I. Part II (the author's personal diary) can be skipped. Even part I is a stump, as illness and death prevented its completion. But the final pages, completed by the author's ...
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