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A Mad Desire to Dance
From Elie Wiesel, a recipient of the Nobel Peace Prize and one of our fiercest moral voices, a provocative and deeply thoughtful new novel about a life shaped by the worst horrors of the twentieth century and one man’s attempt to reclaim happiness.
Doriel, a European expatriate living in New York, suffers from a profound sense of desperation and loss. His mother, a member of the Resistance, survived World War II only to die in an accident, together with his father, soon after. Doriel was a child during the war, and his knowledge of the Holocaust is largely limited to what he finds in movies, newsreels, and books—but it is enough. Doriel’s parents and their secrets haunt him, leaving him filled with longing but unable to experience the most basic joys in life. He plunges into an intense study of Judaism, but instead of finding solace, he comes to believe that he is possessed by a dybbuk.
Surrounded by ghosts, spurred on by demons, Doriel finally turns to Dr. Thérèse Goldschmidt, a psychoanalyst who finds herself particularly intrigued by her patient. The two enter into an uneasy relationship based on of dreams, histories, and secrets. Despite Doriel’s initial resistance, Dr. Goldschmidt helps to bring him to a crossroads—and to a shocking denouement.
In Doriel’s journey into the darkest regions of the soul, Elie Wiesel has written one of his most profoundly moving works of fiction, grounded always by his unparalleled moral compass.
Doriel, a European expatriate living in New York, suffers from a profound sense of desperation and loss. His mother, a member of the Resistance, survived World War II only to die in an accident, together with his father, soon after. Doriel was a child during the war, and his knowledge of the Holocaust is largely limited to what he finds in movies, newsreels, and books—but it is enough. Doriel’s parents and their secrets haunt him, leaving him filled with longing but unable to experience the most basic joys in life. He plunges into an intense study of Judaism, but instead of finding solace, he comes to believe that he is possessed by a dybbuk.
Surrounded by ghosts, spurred on by demons, Doriel finally turns to Dr. Thérèse Goldschmidt, a psychoanalyst who finds herself particularly intrigued by her patient. The two enter into an uneasy relationship based on of dreams, histories, and secrets. Despite Doriel’s initial resistance, Dr. Goldschmidt helps to bring him to a crossroads—and to a shocking denouement.
In Doriel’s journey into the darkest regions of the soul, Elie Wiesel has written one of his most profoundly moving works of fiction, grounded always by his unparalleled moral compass.
288 pages, Hardcover
First published February 17, 2006
80 people are currently reading
2085 people want to read
About the author
Elie Wiesel
271 books4,491 followersEliezer "Elie" Wiesel was a Romanian-born American writer, professor, political activist, Nobel laureate, and Holocaust survivor. He authored 57 books, written mostly in French and English, including Night, a work based on his experiences as a Jewish prisoner in the Auschwitz and Buchenwald concentration camps.
In his political activities Wiesel became a regular speaker on the subject of the Holocaust and remained a strong defender of human rights during his lifetime. He also advocated for many other causes like the state of Israel and against Hamas and victims of oppression including Soviet and Ethiopian Jews, the apartheid in South Africa, the Bosnian genocide, Sudan, the Kurds and the Armenian genocide, Argentina's Desaparecidos or Nicaragua's Miskito people.
He was a professor of the humanities at Boston University, which created the Elie Wiesel Center for Jewish Studies in his honor. He was involved with Jewish causes and human rights causes and helped establish the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington, D.C.
Wiesel was awarded various prestigious awards including the Nobel Peace Prize in 1986. He was a founding board member of the New York Human Rights Foundation and remained active in it throughout his life.
In his political activities Wiesel became a regular speaker on the subject of the Holocaust and remained a strong defender of human rights during his lifetime. He also advocated for many other causes like the state of Israel and against Hamas and victims of oppression including Soviet and Ethiopian Jews, the apartheid in South Africa, the Bosnian genocide, Sudan, the Kurds and the Armenian genocide, Argentina's Desaparecidos or Nicaragua's Miskito people.
He was a professor of the humanities at Boston University, which created the Elie Wiesel Center for Jewish Studies in his honor. He was involved with Jewish causes and human rights causes and helped establish the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington, D.C.
Wiesel was awarded various prestigious awards including the Nobel Peace Prize in 1986. He was a founding board member of the New York Human Rights Foundation and remained active in it throughout his life.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 174 reviews
December 19, 2011
Rating: 3.5* of five
Like any other Wiesel book, this is well worth reading. Don't be put off by the philosophy-student-at-2am first 50pp. Chapter 3, starting on p51, begins a different phase of the book and it's a much less claustrophobic experience after that.
Wiesel is justly famous for the memoir "Night". He's not a novelist, frankly, and a less talented writer would have turned this same story into the literary equivalent of waterboarding. Things like, "At times, in an involuntary and unpredictable way, everything spins around and becomes dislocated in my mind. At the slightest little thing, and often for no apparent reason, I weep without shedding tears and I roar with laughter. I'm lonely, terribly lonely, though a crowd surrounds me and hems me in{,}" are...well...clunky, to put it kindly. (That is from p140, the beginning of chapter 12.)
But...and here's the thing...there are passages that soar and look down at us, seeing sharp edges and stark corners where we see fuzz, mist, and shadows: "Against a world invaded by madness, should we use the faith of our ancestors, or our own madness?" (p110) And this is a simple throwaway line in a long dialogue paragraph!
I can almost forgive the non-novel-ness of the book for moments like that. I recommend the book to readers of Robert Pirsig's philosophical maunderings as a corrective, and to readers of Wiesel's own memoir as an act of solidarity with a man whose world contains so much that he can't keep it in, gotta let it out (to quote Stephen Georgiou/Cat Stevens).
Like any other Wiesel book, this is well worth reading. Don't be put off by the philosophy-student-at-2am first 50pp. Chapter 3, starting on p51, begins a different phase of the book and it's a much less claustrophobic experience after that.
Wiesel is justly famous for the memoir "Night". He's not a novelist, frankly, and a less talented writer would have turned this same story into the literary equivalent of waterboarding. Things like, "At times, in an involuntary and unpredictable way, everything spins around and becomes dislocated in my mind. At the slightest little thing, and often for no apparent reason, I weep without shedding tears and I roar with laughter. I'm lonely, terribly lonely, though a crowd surrounds me and hems me in{,}" are...well...clunky, to put it kindly. (That is from p140, the beginning of chapter 12.)
But...and here's the thing...there are passages that soar and look down at us, seeing sharp edges and stark corners where we see fuzz, mist, and shadows: "Against a world invaded by madness, should we use the faith of our ancestors, or our own madness?" (p110) And this is a simple throwaway line in a long dialogue paragraph!
I can almost forgive the non-novel-ness of the book for moments like that. I recommend the book to readers of Robert Pirsig's philosophical maunderings as a corrective, and to readers of Wiesel's own memoir as an act of solidarity with a man whose world contains so much that he can't keep it in, gotta let it out (to quote Stephen Georgiou/Cat Stevens).
December 8, 2012
A Mad Desire to Dance by Elie Wiesel is one of those "I know I should really like this, but I don't" novels. You know the kind. It just hangs out on the book shelf, the great name of its author exuding an ethereal glow, biding its time until its dark powers of persuasion ensnare you. Wiesel had garnered my attention through his memior Night. While I had no misconceptions about A Mad Desire to Dance being a totally different work and fiction at that, I had no way of knowing that I had perhaps selected one of Wiesel's weaker works -- every writer's bound to have at least one.
Doriel is an aging Jewish man who, as a child, survived World War II by hiding in the Polish countryside with his father while his mother worked in a clandestine Jewish underground resistence. His brother and sister dead by the end of the war, his mother and father killed in a car accident after liberation, Doriel is left an orphan haunted by the ghosts of their memories. This haunting perpels him into a belief that he is mad, perhaps possessed by a dybbuk. He feels incapable of experiencing true happiness. In search of a cure, or at the very least an understanding of his madness, Doriel turns to psychoanalyst Dr. Thérèse Goldschmidt for help.
I have had very little experience with this therapist-patient narrative style in my prior reading. Certainly there were characters I've read who have interacted with a therapist, occasionally for extended periods of a novel. Here (as well as The Visible Man by Chuck Klosterman which I read previously this year) the whole of the novel is a back and forth between therapist and patient. Initially, it is a saving grace for A Mad Desire to Dance. Ultimately I found the same irksome flaws as I had with The Visible Man -- flaws which I am wondering are inherent to this sort of narrative approach.
A Mad Desire to Dance was very nearly unreadable for the first fifty or so pages. Doriel's opening monologue of madness is a hot mess of incoherent rambling. It is successful in conveying the general idea that "this man is crazy" but affords very little more than an impression of what is happening. Reading the opening chapters feels like a concerted effort. A bit like listening to the overly intoxicated, overly educated drunk at the end of the bar -- if you can just work out what's being said, you're certain there's something life-altering amid the jumble of words.
Thankfully, Dr. Goldschmidt enters the mix by occasionally breaking the rambling wall of text with excerpts from her personal notes. Though she does not negate Doriel's mad ramblings, Goldschmidt acts as a rudder guiding the ship adrift into somewhat of a steady current of thought. She, however, is rather useless in providing insight.
I wonder how these therapists are capable of discerning insights from reviewing their notes. As was my previous experience with Klosterman's narration via therapist notes, epiphanies are veiled behind vague references which leave the reader to infer what exactly the therapist is beginning to understand. There's a grinding halt to the immersion of the story as you're yanked out of the text to flip back several pages hoping to ferret out the revelation the therapist had seen but you had missed. And though it may leave the reader feeling a bit obtuse, there are clear moments of missed opportunities that leave you screaming at the oblivious therapist passing by a perfect line of inquiry without so much as a glance.
For instance, Doriel clearly states that the source of his independent wealth should not be questioned. In his private asides, though, he states that Goldschmidt should be asking about this. As the reader, you're thinking, "She should be asking him about this." And as you come to the book's pesky conclusion, it's clear, she should have asked about it. The only reason she had not, as my experience with real life therapists leads me to believe any therapist worth their salt would have asked about it, is the restriction Wiesel had placed upon her. Any significant questions and answers regarding the source of Doriel's wealth would have brought about a swift resolution to their counseling and ultimately the story as Wiesel had set about telling it. This results in a disjointed and somewhat dissatisfying conclusion.
This, I feel, is a significant draw back to the therapist-patient narrative style. The narrative style demands that progress be dulled and delayed in order to allow protracted story-telling. It demands a therapist who provides vague insights and misses obvious lines of questioning. For the therapist to be truly forth-coming and honed into curing their patient means a speedy resolution to that line of narration. Had Goldschmidt pressed on key issues, the novel could have been cut a hundred pages of ramblings about imagined romances with women Doriel had only known for a few fleeting moments.
The inclusion of a dybbuk seems an entirely wasted plot device. If the synopsis blurbs which mention it have drawn you here given recent Hollywood buzz, then do not bother. The concept is only ever mentioned a handful of times and never longer than a few sentences. It is not a major factor and never developed beyond a snippet in Doriel's whole-of-text ramblings.
To the point of these ramblings, they necessitate a "TL;DR" summary which is sadly lacking from Goldschmidt's editorial comments. While the quality of Wiesel's writing shines and the prose is beautiful, it's just -- it's just a wall of text. Doriel rambles like no other primary character I have ever read. Thankfully, his stories are much improved as his counseling progresses. He focuses more clearly on his topic and his discussion become fluid by the end. It takes some endurance to reach that point.
However, it was the topics that Doriel refused to expound upon that I most wanted to hear. This is an Elie Wiesel novel after all. Doriel, though, had no experience of the Holocaust or the work camps. He hid with his father and siblings in the Polish countryside. Even then, you would expect Wiesel to expound upon that period of Doriel's life -- that perhaps some root to his madness could be found there. This is not the case. Doriel's discussions follow his life after the war and moving to America; they have very little insight into the life of a post-Holocaust Jew. There does exist some very interesting commentary on the opposition to forming a Jewish state within the Jewish community. Again, this is very briefly discussed. I would say that Michael Chabon does a better job of expressing Jewish identity in The Yiddish Policemen's Union compared to what Wiesel offers in A Mad Desire to Dance.
Too intent on proving the madness of Doriel through incoherent ramblings, too restricted by its therapist-patient narrative -- A Mad Desire to Dance is quite simply a novel that I could have liked but just cannot bring myself to it. The topics that you want to hear discussed are locked by a mad man whose therapist refuses to find the key. This very setup provides for a lackluster resolution which could have come a hundred pages earlier. The prose is beautiful. The story buried within is engaging. Had Wiesel delivered it differently, I have no doubt I could have loved it.
Doriel is an aging Jewish man who, as a child, survived World War II by hiding in the Polish countryside with his father while his mother worked in a clandestine Jewish underground resistence. His brother and sister dead by the end of the war, his mother and father killed in a car accident after liberation, Doriel is left an orphan haunted by the ghosts of their memories. This haunting perpels him into a belief that he is mad, perhaps possessed by a dybbuk. He feels incapable of experiencing true happiness. In search of a cure, or at the very least an understanding of his madness, Doriel turns to psychoanalyst Dr. Thérèse Goldschmidt for help.
I have had very little experience with this therapist-patient narrative style in my prior reading. Certainly there were characters I've read who have interacted with a therapist, occasionally for extended periods of a novel. Here (as well as The Visible Man by Chuck Klosterman which I read previously this year) the whole of the novel is a back and forth between therapist and patient. Initially, it is a saving grace for A Mad Desire to Dance. Ultimately I found the same irksome flaws as I had with The Visible Man -- flaws which I am wondering are inherent to this sort of narrative approach.
A Mad Desire to Dance was very nearly unreadable for the first fifty or so pages. Doriel's opening monologue of madness is a hot mess of incoherent rambling. It is successful in conveying the general idea that "this man is crazy" but affords very little more than an impression of what is happening. Reading the opening chapters feels like a concerted effort. A bit like listening to the overly intoxicated, overly educated drunk at the end of the bar -- if you can just work out what's being said, you're certain there's something life-altering amid the jumble of words.
Thankfully, Dr. Goldschmidt enters the mix by occasionally breaking the rambling wall of text with excerpts from her personal notes. Though she does not negate Doriel's mad ramblings, Goldschmidt acts as a rudder guiding the ship adrift into somewhat of a steady current of thought. She, however, is rather useless in providing insight.
I wonder how these therapists are capable of discerning insights from reviewing their notes. As was my previous experience with Klosterman's narration via therapist notes, epiphanies are veiled behind vague references which leave the reader to infer what exactly the therapist is beginning to understand. There's a grinding halt to the immersion of the story as you're yanked out of the text to flip back several pages hoping to ferret out the revelation the therapist had seen but you had missed. And though it may leave the reader feeling a bit obtuse, there are clear moments of missed opportunities that leave you screaming at the oblivious therapist passing by a perfect line of inquiry without so much as a glance.
For instance, Doriel clearly states that the source of his independent wealth should not be questioned. In his private asides, though, he states that Goldschmidt should be asking about this. As the reader, you're thinking, "She should be asking him about this." And as you come to the book's pesky conclusion, it's clear, she should have asked about it. The only reason she had not, as my experience with real life therapists leads me to believe any therapist worth their salt would have asked about it, is the restriction Wiesel had placed upon her. Any significant questions and answers regarding the source of Doriel's wealth would have brought about a swift resolution to their counseling and ultimately the story as Wiesel had set about telling it. This results in a disjointed and somewhat dissatisfying conclusion.
This, I feel, is a significant draw back to the therapist-patient narrative style. The narrative style demands that progress be dulled and delayed in order to allow protracted story-telling. It demands a therapist who provides vague insights and misses obvious lines of questioning. For the therapist to be truly forth-coming and honed into curing their patient means a speedy resolution to that line of narration. Had Goldschmidt pressed on key issues, the novel could have been cut a hundred pages of ramblings about imagined romances with women Doriel had only known for a few fleeting moments.
The inclusion of a dybbuk seems an entirely wasted plot device. If the synopsis blurbs which mention it have drawn you here given recent Hollywood buzz, then do not bother. The concept is only ever mentioned a handful of times and never longer than a few sentences. It is not a major factor and never developed beyond a snippet in Doriel's whole-of-text ramblings.
To the point of these ramblings, they necessitate a "TL;DR" summary which is sadly lacking from Goldschmidt's editorial comments. While the quality of Wiesel's writing shines and the prose is beautiful, it's just -- it's just a wall of text. Doriel rambles like no other primary character I have ever read. Thankfully, his stories are much improved as his counseling progresses. He focuses more clearly on his topic and his discussion become fluid by the end. It takes some endurance to reach that point.
However, it was the topics that Doriel refused to expound upon that I most wanted to hear. This is an Elie Wiesel novel after all. Doriel, though, had no experience of the Holocaust or the work camps. He hid with his father and siblings in the Polish countryside. Even then, you would expect Wiesel to expound upon that period of Doriel's life -- that perhaps some root to his madness could be found there. This is not the case. Doriel's discussions follow his life after the war and moving to America; they have very little insight into the life of a post-Holocaust Jew. There does exist some very interesting commentary on the opposition to forming a Jewish state within the Jewish community. Again, this is very briefly discussed. I would say that Michael Chabon does a better job of expressing Jewish identity in The Yiddish Policemen's Union compared to what Wiesel offers in A Mad Desire to Dance.
Too intent on proving the madness of Doriel through incoherent ramblings, too restricted by its therapist-patient narrative -- A Mad Desire to Dance is quite simply a novel that I could have liked but just cannot bring myself to it. The topics that you want to hear discussed are locked by a mad man whose therapist refuses to find the key. This very setup provides for a lackluster resolution which could have come a hundred pages earlier. The prose is beautiful. The story buried within is engaging. Had Wiesel delivered it differently, I have no doubt I could have loved it.
March 3, 2013
I made a drastic decision with this one: I stopped reading and tossed it aside.
Now, that's something I usually don't do. Even if I don't like a novel, I seem to find the stamina to push through.
I just couldn't go on with this one. There's nothing that appeals to me. At. All.
During my read I hit a wall, three times. I paused my reading, and read another book, just to get going again.
Today I returned to the book for a fourth time. Determined to push it to end.
After some 20 pages, every joy I find in reading was slowly withering.
After 25 pages I was questioning the very act of reading itself. (I'm a literary historian. My whole life revolves around reading, so you can only guess my state of mind when I start to doubt the virtues of reading)
After 30 pages, I was ready to sell my soul to the devil if I just never had to read another book again.
After 35 pages, I decided to leave A Mad Desire to Dance for ever. It was either that, or stabbing my eyes out.
I chose the first, and I'm off to rekindle my love for literature.
You might have figured it out by now, but this one is really not my cup of tea. We meet with the protagonist and his quest for mental health. He's off to a therapist, and is going to tell his story. Well... More or less. Fragments of texts are told devoid of any chronology. Madness is thematized throughout the novel, even in its form. Yes, very cute and clever and all, but it doesn't really make up for an engaging read.
Even the therapist herself is entering the discourse of madness. Yes, really cute. Really Clever. Not a great story.
So, all in all, I must say, this book is very cute and very clever. But in the end, it makes up for nothing.
The self-absorbed characters and the self-absorbed text repelled me on every level. There's nothing, absolutely nothing, in this book that appeals to me.
If you'd like to read a book about jewishness, in a therapeutical setting, go and read Philip Roth's 'Portnoy's Complaint'. I beg of you, run away from this one before it sucks every joie de lire out of you.
Now, that's something I usually don't do. Even if I don't like a novel, I seem to find the stamina to push through.
I just couldn't go on with this one. There's nothing that appeals to me. At. All.
During my read I hit a wall, three times. I paused my reading, and read another book, just to get going again.
Today I returned to the book for a fourth time. Determined to push it to end.
After some 20 pages, every joy I find in reading was slowly withering.
After 25 pages I was questioning the very act of reading itself. (I'm a literary historian. My whole life revolves around reading, so you can only guess my state of mind when I start to doubt the virtues of reading)
After 30 pages, I was ready to sell my soul to the devil if I just never had to read another book again.
After 35 pages, I decided to leave A Mad Desire to Dance for ever. It was either that, or stabbing my eyes out.
I chose the first, and I'm off to rekindle my love for literature.
You might have figured it out by now, but this one is really not my cup of tea. We meet with the protagonist and his quest for mental health. He's off to a therapist, and is going to tell his story. Well... More or less. Fragments of texts are told devoid of any chronology. Madness is thematized throughout the novel, even in its form. Yes, very cute and clever and all, but it doesn't really make up for an engaging read.
Even the therapist herself is entering the discourse of madness. Yes, really cute. Really Clever. Not a great story.
So, all in all, I must say, this book is very cute and very clever. But in the end, it makes up for nothing.
The self-absorbed characters and the self-absorbed text repelled me on every level. There's nothing, absolutely nothing, in this book that appeals to me.
If you'd like to read a book about jewishness, in a therapeutical setting, go and read Philip Roth's 'Portnoy's Complaint'. I beg of you, run away from this one before it sucks every joie de lire out of you.
February 17, 2011
That was one weird book. The story of a self-proclaimed "madman", told mostly through his rambling stream-of-conscious therapy sessions, I had no idea what was going on for the first 100 pages or so, and even once I started to understand the plot, I found it hard to figure out the chronology as it skipped around so much. There was also way to much about his inner struggle with his Jewish faith, as I, as a non-Jew, had no idea what he was talking about. In the end, I found some chapters that were lucid, straight-forward storytelling very engaging and interesting and enjoyable, but in the grand scheme of the entire book it was too much of a word-vomit and not enough rational storytelling for me to get into it. It was a struggle to get through, and I'm sure most people put it down before it starts to make some semblance of sense (and perhaps they made the right choice in abandoning it!)
March 14, 2017
This book follows the psychoanalysis of a Jewish survivor of World War II Poland whose family was killed in the war and who is convinced he is mad. While the analyst finds him a troubling patient because he resists letting her explore his memories, he also is so lucid that it's hard for him to seem really insane to the analyst despite his troubled mind. I found it an interesting journey through the main character's memory and the ending was very hopeful and shows that a lot of the time, one's problems stem from one's own psyche. I find it deeply heartening that Elie Wiesel, who managed to live through such a horrible experience and live so long afterwards, touched many people with his hopeful writing.
February 7, 2013
Ok so I was expecting something different than what I got. What I got was yet ANOTHER going on and on about how a mother's avocation should have been been her vocation and how that screwed up her son. I know that is NOT what this book was about. I would be better off with a book written about Doriel's mother as that is subject matter, I am interested in. The women of the Resistance. And Dr. Thérèse Goldschmidt was slightly annoying in constantly thinking her patient was falling for her, really? The ending was sweet, but still I don't understand the title or the last line of the book in relation to the rest of the book...
October 28, 2009
I've spent an hour or so trying to figure out how the review for this book should go.
My rating is not based on the literary quality of the book. It's based on how the book made me feel. While parts were thought-provoking, the majority of the book dragged my spirits down so low that just reading it put me in a perpetually bad mood.
The only redeeming parts of the book were from the therapist's point of view, but even then the feeling of helplessness and waste was overwhelming.
It's not an easy read and I pretty much forced my way through it.
My rating is not based on the literary quality of the book. It's based on how the book made me feel. While parts were thought-provoking, the majority of the book dragged my spirits down so low that just reading it put me in a perpetually bad mood.
The only redeeming parts of the book were from the therapist's point of view, but even then the feeling of helplessness and waste was overwhelming.
It's not an easy read and I pretty much forced my way through it.
March 3, 2025
good read needs half stars.
but this book was good. it took me a bit to get into because its very scatterbrained but i believe thats part of its charm, being in the mind of your main character. i enjoyed how full circle it came at the end and felt like i learned a lot about judaism passively
but this book was good. it took me a bit to get into because its very scatterbrained but i believe thats part of its charm, being in the mind of your main character. i enjoyed how full circle it came at the end and felt like i learned a lot about judaism passively
July 27, 2010
I had a hard time with this book. I listened to the audio book while working on projects around the house. I feel that if I had started reading the book, I would never have finished it.
The story deals with some very deep and troubling issues. This fact together with a discontinuous time-line and a narrator who is a professed madman made this a difficult story. The story is based around the relationship that develops between the narrator (currently in his 60's)and his therapist. I found the relationship between them and the counterpoint of the therapist notes and the revelations of her life to add a necessary balance to the story. For a section of the story I felt a connection to the main character, but that did not sustain through the end of the book. By the end I felt lost and overwhelmed by the story. I do not recommend this book even though I feel the book is well written. This is my first read of Wiesel's and I do plan on exploring his other works.
The story deals with some very deep and troubling issues. This fact together with a discontinuous time-line and a narrator who is a professed madman made this a difficult story. The story is based around the relationship that develops between the narrator (currently in his 60's)and his therapist. I found the relationship between them and the counterpoint of the therapist notes and the revelations of her life to add a necessary balance to the story. For a section of the story I felt a connection to the main character, but that did not sustain through the end of the book. By the end I felt lost and overwhelmed by the story. I do not recommend this book even though I feel the book is well written. This is my first read of Wiesel's and I do plan on exploring his other works.
March 28, 2019
Usually, I want answers. I want books with characters who ask so many questions and struggle to find something they didn't have before. Maybe they need closure, or they need happiness, or they need a cure.
This book asked so many questions. This book IS questions. It's one man asking questions that drive him to question his own existence and his own sanity. Sometimes, it's the written account of his therapist asking him questions, but really it's her asking herself questions about herself, not even about him.
This book starts as a kind of slow, dizzying turn. Then it picks up speed. It gets faster and faster, and as a reader, I stand in some kind of turmoil and hope to grasp something here and there. At the very last minute, it all comes together into some sort of wild dance. I saw where some steps were choreographed, others improvised. I saw connections to ideas of memory. This book is about the son of Holocaust survivors. In some ways, he himself is a survivor. But his own guilt and the generational trauma is too much to bear. He cannot love, because he feels like he doesn't deserve it.
But the plot follows no chronology. It's vignettes, and I never know if they're true or not. The narrator is telling a story, but he knows he has an audience.
This book left me questions, but questions that make me better.
This book asked so many questions. This book IS questions. It's one man asking questions that drive him to question his own existence and his own sanity. Sometimes, it's the written account of his therapist asking him questions, but really it's her asking herself questions about herself, not even about him.
This book starts as a kind of slow, dizzying turn. Then it picks up speed. It gets faster and faster, and as a reader, I stand in some kind of turmoil and hope to grasp something here and there. At the very last minute, it all comes together into some sort of wild dance. I saw where some steps were choreographed, others improvised. I saw connections to ideas of memory. This book is about the son of Holocaust survivors. In some ways, he himself is a survivor. But his own guilt and the generational trauma is too much to bear. He cannot love, because he feels like he doesn't deserve it.
But the plot follows no chronology. It's vignettes, and I never know if they're true or not. The narrator is telling a story, but he knows he has an audience.
This book left me questions, but questions that make me better.
July 17, 2018
I took some time and read some reviews of this book online after I finished and I walked away feeling like everyone missed the thrust of the entire book. The NYT review called it aphoristic and simplistic. I'm always interested when the entire novel gets ignored in favor of the aphoristic and simplistic views of one character, like the character is the font of truth. Most plotting is about character interactions and in this book there is nothing simplistic or aphoristic about those interactions which range from the most horrific human events (the Holocaust and WWII) to the most pedestrian (therapy and rejection). In order to deal with life, madness becomes an option. What does it say about or existence that madness just might make life better?
April 1, 2019
When I first started this, I was frustrated because it felt more like reading a philosophical text than a novel. After reading for a while, I realized that this is how I was supposed to feel--this is how Doriel feels all the time; he's frustrated, stuck in his head, philosophically wondering why he has survived and what his purpose is. I found it interesting that at times, the reader serves as the analyst, as Doriel is often speaking directly to "you", the reader. However, I was a little stumped by the end. I suspected a relationship would relieve Doriel of his thoughts, but I never suspected that it would be someone so drastically different in age and that he would have a child.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
May 7, 2019
I like the way Elie Wiesel writes and goes deep with his questions. I think he speaks through Doriel, in some way. How much he suffered to express the pain and sorrow in a calm voice? Also, Dr. Thérèse seems to be he, Elie. Both are voices of the same man, one is afraid and haunt while the other inquire and scrutinize.
The novel include some other small stories about ephemeral characters that decelerate the whole story and contribute in nothing. The madness isn't rude nor illogical, just oppressive and quiet. The end is unexpected.
The novel include some other small stories about ephemeral characters that decelerate the whole story and contribute in nothing. The madness isn't rude nor illogical, just oppressive and quiet. The end is unexpected.
July 25, 2021
už dlouho jsem si chtěla přečíst Noc od Wiesela, ale pak jsem narazila na tenhle titul v knihkupectví. Zaujala mě psychoterapeutická rovina příběhu, která ale ve finále spíš zklamala - bylo poznat, že autor o průběhu terapie moc neví a zápisy ze sezení staví na kýčových motivech freudiánské analýzy, které ani k povaze problému pacienta moc nepasovaly
ale možná jsem to celý jen nepochopila
ale možná jsem to celý jen nepochopila
July 20, 2021
1.5/5.
February 8, 2021
Really like the psychological journey
May 1, 2009
"...if surprises didn't exist, life would be nothing more than a bad novel about mediocrity." (p. 37)
Elie Wiesel does a great job taking you through the inter-workings of Doriel's (the main character) mind. Readers then have the pleasure of seeing Doriel through the eyes of his psychiatrist, Therese Goldschmidt, as she follows along on this journey in an effort to cure Doriel of his self proclaimed "madness." All the while, I, as the reader, found myself on a journey through my mind and past on my own journey to self discovery.
This is just one of those books that you have to read for yourself in order to truly understand, which I recommend highly to anyone interested in reading a great piece of literature.
Elie Wiesel does a great job taking you through the inter-workings of Doriel's (the main character) mind. Readers then have the pleasure of seeing Doriel through the eyes of his psychiatrist, Therese Goldschmidt, as she follows along on this journey in an effort to cure Doriel of his self proclaimed "madness." All the while, I, as the reader, found myself on a journey through my mind and past on my own journey to self discovery.
This is just one of those books that you have to read for yourself in order to truly understand, which I recommend highly to anyone interested in reading a great piece of literature.
January 22, 2010
I had hoped for more, after all that soul searching. I did not find this book profound or uplifting, but tiring and discouraging- demoralizing. The first 100 pages were so hard to get through, afterward it became easier, but the author seemed to go in circles. Most of the time I had no idea what he was trying to say or where he was going. I had a hard time feeling any connection with the main character- despite all the tragedy he lived through, I never felt emotionally connected.
June 18, 2017
داستان در نل خوب بود. ابتدای کتاب واقعا سخت جلو میره و حوصله سر بر هست. اونقدر که دوست داری بزاریش کنار و دیگه سراغش نری. مخصوصا روند فوق خطی داستان و دیالوگ های بین دیمون ها و بقیه اشخاص داستان. نمیدونم چرا ولی انتظار داشتم بهتر بشه داستان در آخرش، واسه همین ادامه دادم تا آخرش، و درست حدس زده بودم. در آخر خیلی بهتر شد و به خوندنش می ارزید. انتهاش خوب بود و هیجان جالبی داشت.
Every human being is unique but his or her stories aren't.
Every human being is unique but his or her stories aren't.
December 24, 2009
a little odd...have put it down for now but would like to finish it--will give it one more chance, since I love Elie Wiesel so much.
ok...had to put this book down. Way to depressing. I can understand how Doriel's life had led him tot his point, but real life has enough sadness, so I don't need to get this kind of depression from a novel. LOVE Wiesel but not this book.
ok...had to put this book down. Way to depressing. I can understand how Doriel's life had led him tot his point, but real life has enough sadness, so I don't need to get this kind of depression from a novel. LOVE Wiesel but not this book.
March 29, 2011
I don't know if I should actually give this a rating since I did not actually finish the book... I barely started it. But I just can NOT wade through it, and after I realized that I had skimmed 50 pages without absorbing much, I put the book down. I'm sure the book is very good for some people, but I am just not one of them.
May 6, 2009
Sorry Wiesel, I just couldn't stick with it. I'm sure it's lovely...somehow, but the first 1/8th was a little painful. Get into it. Give me something! The jacket promises a surprising Dénouement, but I needed a little more sense in the exposition.
May 16, 2018
This book is beautiful. I felt as if every line should be deeply reflected upon, and stored away. This book will inspire you and empower you to find beauty, forgiveness and meaning in even the darkest times.
Read
April 27, 2011Absolutely horrible. On page 17 and I can't even continue. How is he a Nobel prize winning author?
December 27, 2018
When a novelist writes Nathanish characters in multiple novels, one wonders if they are writing characters at least somewhat like themselves as well. At this point of reading books by Elie Wiesel, I have an idea that all of his novels are going to include some commentary about Jewish religious thinkers, some sort of person who is tormented by the past in some dramatic way and in which writing is involved. Knowing this, there is still a great deal to enjoy about such a novel, even if Wiesel has a particular wheelhouse as a writer. If you don't enjoy reflections on the Holocaust and the damage it wrought, you're probably not going to be a fan. If you don't appreciate deeply religious meditations, struggles with mental health and the repercussions of traumatic events, and the way that wounded souls have a hard time finding intimacy, you're probably not going to appreciate these novels very much. But if you do relate to these things, whether from compassion on others or painful personal experience, these novels remind us of the characteristic way that wounded people seek healing and to tell their story through writing, and that is something worth cheering on even for an odd novel like this one.
The title of this novel does not make sense until one gets to the very end of the novel, so if you read books in the way I do, from start to finish, this novel is going to take a long time to make sense. In a way, though, that is a very good thing, as this novel is mostly about the relationship between a tormented soul who seeks therapy for his demons (literally speaking, he thinks himself possessed by a dybbuk) and a not particularly competent therapist, and the protagonist, named Dariel, the lone survivor of a family wrecked by World War II, finds his sanity threatened by the burden of secrets from his parents and a religious background that strikes even this reader as overly strict. Through the course of his own neurotic ramblings and the notes of his secularist therapist, the book makes its way to a surprising conclusion that allows Dariel to come to terms with the past and to choose intimacy and life rather than isolation and sterility and death. And that choice is made in a way that seems particularly Nathanish, which makes this book a very bittersweet one.
There are a few very worthwhile matters that this novel wrestles with. To what extent does a therapist need to better understand what is going on with a patient rather than to hold on to their own (almost always mistaken) theories and mindsets about psychology? To what extent do people have to make sense of what is going on and wrestle with the tragedy and absurdity of this existence? What influences people to choose life over death, blessing over cursing, a wife and a family over solitude and isolation? Perhaps not everyone has a personal understanding of the sort of difficulties that are faced even by the children of those who have suffered horrors, but as there are many people who can relate to the sort of secrets and traumas are discussed and alluded to in this book, the protagonist of the story is certainly one that can be identified with. The ending of the book is certainly surprising, but it makes sense within a certain logic, in that the happiness of the protagonist only required that despair over isolation be replaced with a willingness to extend himself to someone he could intuitively sense would have some understanding of where he has been, and his stepping out is rewarded by a beneficent authorial providence. May we all hope for the same in our own lives.
The title of this novel does not make sense until one gets to the very end of the novel, so if you read books in the way I do, from start to finish, this novel is going to take a long time to make sense. In a way, though, that is a very good thing, as this novel is mostly about the relationship between a tormented soul who seeks therapy for his demons (literally speaking, he thinks himself possessed by a dybbuk) and a not particularly competent therapist, and the protagonist, named Dariel, the lone survivor of a family wrecked by World War II, finds his sanity threatened by the burden of secrets from his parents and a religious background that strikes even this reader as overly strict. Through the course of his own neurotic ramblings and the notes of his secularist therapist, the book makes its way to a surprising conclusion that allows Dariel to come to terms with the past and to choose intimacy and life rather than isolation and sterility and death. And that choice is made in a way that seems particularly Nathanish, which makes this book a very bittersweet one.
There are a few very worthwhile matters that this novel wrestles with. To what extent does a therapist need to better understand what is going on with a patient rather than to hold on to their own (almost always mistaken) theories and mindsets about psychology? To what extent do people have to make sense of what is going on and wrestle with the tragedy and absurdity of this existence? What influences people to choose life over death, blessing over cursing, a wife and a family over solitude and isolation? Perhaps not everyone has a personal understanding of the sort of difficulties that are faced even by the children of those who have suffered horrors, but as there are many people who can relate to the sort of secrets and traumas are discussed and alluded to in this book, the protagonist of the story is certainly one that can be identified with. The ending of the book is certainly surprising, but it makes sense within a certain logic, in that the happiness of the protagonist only required that despair over isolation be replaced with a willingness to extend himself to someone he could intuitively sense would have some understanding of where he has been, and his stepping out is rewarded by a beneficent authorial providence. May we all hope for the same in our own lives.
February 13, 2023
Well, I finished it. That was my first thought as I closed the book, A Mad Desire to Dance by Elie Wiesel. I did feel like I had come out of a bit of a mad world, but I had absolutely no desire to dance. Not that I ever do any other time. According to the cover of the book:
From Elie Wiesel, a recipient of the Nobel Peace Prize and one of our fiercest moral voices, a provocative and deeply thoughtful new novel about a life shaped by the worst horrors of the twentieth century and one man's attempt to reclaim happiness.
Provocative and deeply thoughtful? Reading that again makes me wonder if we were reading the same book. I found while reading this that I could have wrote the entire story myself, here's my version:
Once upon a time a man thought he was mad, crazy, deranged, demented, disturbed, unbalanced. So he went to see a therapist. He talked to the doctor, and talked and talked, mostly nonsense. She wrote down everything he said. The end.
Now I've ruined the entire book for you. Sorry about that. It is kind of hard to give the plot away, especially since I can't seem to find one. Sitting and talking isn't a plot to me. But not only do I get to hear this guy talk endlessly, I get to hear him say things like this:
You'll ask: Is a madman who knows he's mad really mad? (I never thought to ask such a thing.)
Or: In a mad world, isn't the madman who is aware of his madness the only sane person? (If you say so.)
And now for some more enjoyable moments from the book:
And what if I am my own ghost, and as such immortal? But isn't being immortal no longer being? But then which one of us is mad, my ghost or me? And who will help me understand when I am truly ill: Is it when I know that I am or when I don't know?
I wonder if I am supposed to know what our mad guy is talking about. Because I don't, I almost never have any idea what he is talking about and the therapist isn't helping. She's making it worse, this is from her notes:
"Do you like to eat?" I ask.
"The bark more than the tree," he responds.
"Do you like to drink?"
"The tree is thirsty and I swallow the rain."
"And then what? What happens next?"
"Time pursues the words; the words fall to their knees."
"Who is your enemy?"
"The face of the faceless person has stolen mine."
"What do you hate?"
"Two times three equals a baby's smile."
"Do you like to read?"
"Oh, the vagabond who winks at me is nuts."
"What about painting, are you interested in it?"
"With my finger I am the clouds and I become a cloud."
"And the rain, do you like it?"
"The angel that is tracking me down is black and dazzling."
"And the devil, what does he look like?"
"Finally two times seven equals fourteen."
"That's correct. How did you get that?"
"It's so simple, Doctor. Three times Sunday and four times Tuesday equals fourteen."
I realized typing all that over again how much I hated this book. The line from the book that spoke the most to me was this:
The fact is, I wasted my life, Doctor.
And I wasted hours I could have been reading something else reading this book. I can tell you one thing for sure, if you decide to read this book you will have to like it better than I did. On to the next book.
From Elie Wiesel, a recipient of the Nobel Peace Prize and one of our fiercest moral voices, a provocative and deeply thoughtful new novel about a life shaped by the worst horrors of the twentieth century and one man's attempt to reclaim happiness.
Provocative and deeply thoughtful? Reading that again makes me wonder if we were reading the same book. I found while reading this that I could have wrote the entire story myself, here's my version:
Once upon a time a man thought he was mad, crazy, deranged, demented, disturbed, unbalanced. So he went to see a therapist. He talked to the doctor, and talked and talked, mostly nonsense. She wrote down everything he said. The end.
Now I've ruined the entire book for you. Sorry about that. It is kind of hard to give the plot away, especially since I can't seem to find one. Sitting and talking isn't a plot to me. But not only do I get to hear this guy talk endlessly, I get to hear him say things like this:
You'll ask: Is a madman who knows he's mad really mad? (I never thought to ask such a thing.)
Or: In a mad world, isn't the madman who is aware of his madness the only sane person? (If you say so.)
And now for some more enjoyable moments from the book:
And what if I am my own ghost, and as such immortal? But isn't being immortal no longer being? But then which one of us is mad, my ghost or me? And who will help me understand when I am truly ill: Is it when I know that I am or when I don't know?
I wonder if I am supposed to know what our mad guy is talking about. Because I don't, I almost never have any idea what he is talking about and the therapist isn't helping. She's making it worse, this is from her notes:
"Do you like to eat?" I ask.
"The bark more than the tree," he responds.
"Do you like to drink?"
"The tree is thirsty and I swallow the rain."
"And then what? What happens next?"
"Time pursues the words; the words fall to their knees."
"Who is your enemy?"
"The face of the faceless person has stolen mine."
"What do you hate?"
"Two times three equals a baby's smile."
"Do you like to read?"
"Oh, the vagabond who winks at me is nuts."
"What about painting, are you interested in it?"
"With my finger I am the clouds and I become a cloud."
"And the rain, do you like it?"
"The angel that is tracking me down is black and dazzling."
"And the devil, what does he look like?"
"Finally two times seven equals fourteen."
"That's correct. How did you get that?"
"It's so simple, Doctor. Three times Sunday and four times Tuesday equals fourteen."
I realized typing all that over again how much I hated this book. The line from the book that spoke the most to me was this:
The fact is, I wasted my life, Doctor.
And I wasted hours I could have been reading something else reading this book. I can tell you one thing for sure, if you decide to read this book you will have to like it better than I did. On to the next book.
June 22, 2017
I first listened to this novel from a CD set; however, I had a difficult time understanding what happened when and who was talking. Then I read it from a borrowed paperback, and I liked it much, much better.
The story is a typical Elie Wiesel work, coming from his heart so distraught from having endured so much. Throughout the plot, until the end chapters, the main character Doriel Waldman looks back at his life as he relates them to his therapist, Dr. Thérèse Goldschmidt. The ending is happy, possibly to show that some relief, if not a cure, took place, but talking about the exact actions in the story would be giving out the plot.
The story, however, is extremely complex, dealing with all kinds of mental infirmities; for example, At one point, Doriel feels he has the dybbuk (a nasty mythological spirit) in him. The story is told with complete disregard to chronology, thus my problem with the spoken version of it.
As a character, Doriel is an eccentric in his sixties who thinks he is going mad. He is plagued with the past, the war, the Holocaust, and his personal family issues. He is constantly referring to philosophy and religion, playing word and mind games, and being control-crazy while holding back some of his memories as he talks to Thérèse, although he has an overabundance of memories that disturb him. At some places in the book, I felt for his immensely patient therapist, who--I guess--was using a Freudian psychoanalytic type of therapy.
As dark as the plot is, there are gems in the storytelling that can serve as wonderful quotes, such as: “You'll ask: Is a madman who knows he's mad really mad? Or "In a mad world, isn't the madman who is aware of his madness the only sane person?” and “In this ambiguous universe, full of pitfalls and boasts, strength lies in the act of creating one's own lucidity and mastering one's own truth. The person who loves, who creates or re-creates if only for a split second, has already won a victory over the absurdity of fate."
This novel shocks and impresses the reader emotionally, and both at the same time, while he or she sees Doriel’s and his therapist’s lives emerge and disentangle through an intricate narrative and an unexpected ending.
The story is a typical Elie Wiesel work, coming from his heart so distraught from having endured so much. Throughout the plot, until the end chapters, the main character Doriel Waldman looks back at his life as he relates them to his therapist, Dr. Thérèse Goldschmidt. The ending is happy, possibly to show that some relief, if not a cure, took place, but talking about the exact actions in the story would be giving out the plot.
The story, however, is extremely complex, dealing with all kinds of mental infirmities; for example, At one point, Doriel feels he has the dybbuk (a nasty mythological spirit) in him. The story is told with complete disregard to chronology, thus my problem with the spoken version of it.
As a character, Doriel is an eccentric in his sixties who thinks he is going mad. He is plagued with the past, the war, the Holocaust, and his personal family issues. He is constantly referring to philosophy and religion, playing word and mind games, and being control-crazy while holding back some of his memories as he talks to Thérèse, although he has an overabundance of memories that disturb him. At some places in the book, I felt for his immensely patient therapist, who--I guess--was using a Freudian psychoanalytic type of therapy.
As dark as the plot is, there are gems in the storytelling that can serve as wonderful quotes, such as: “You'll ask: Is a madman who knows he's mad really mad? Or "In a mad world, isn't the madman who is aware of his madness the only sane person?” and “In this ambiguous universe, full of pitfalls and boasts, strength lies in the act of creating one's own lucidity and mastering one's own truth. The person who loves, who creates or re-creates if only for a split second, has already won a victory over the absurdity of fate."
This novel shocks and impresses the reader emotionally, and both at the same time, while he or she sees Doriel’s and his therapist’s lives emerge and disentangle through an intricate narrative and an unexpected ending.
January 7, 2025
DNF- page 77 / 25%
I wanted to keep pushing due to liking the premise, however it was mostly only talking about the philosophy of madness and not at all about his parents during WWII, his parents secrets, or him “plunging into an intense study of Judaism”. I would still love to know if it every truly does delve into those topics and if so how long for, but I just personally couldn’t push through to get to that part when it didn’t seem close at all and the same questions about madness have been repeatedly the only focus.
I read another review that it gets better after chapter 3 and while that is true it still had moments where it got lost again to nonsense. I may just be too dumb for this book, but I feel as though it’s just meandering around a bunch of different points and topics of discussion without ever really hitting one. Unless that topic is the philosophy of madness in which case that has been throughly questioned and discussed, but not what I thought the book was about.
Therefore if you are thinking about reading it go into it knowing that it’s very intellectual and the topic most discussed is the philosophy of insanity and that the holocaust plot that was promised in the synopsis is not at all within the first 25%. I think if you go into it knowing and liking that then you will enjoy the book.
I wanted to keep pushing due to liking the premise, however it was mostly only talking about the philosophy of madness and not at all about his parents during WWII, his parents secrets, or him “plunging into an intense study of Judaism”. I would still love to know if it every truly does delve into those topics and if so how long for, but I just personally couldn’t push through to get to that part when it didn’t seem close at all and the same questions about madness have been repeatedly the only focus.
I read another review that it gets better after chapter 3 and while that is true it still had moments where it got lost again to nonsense. I may just be too dumb for this book, but I feel as though it’s just meandering around a bunch of different points and topics of discussion without ever really hitting one. Unless that topic is the philosophy of madness in which case that has been throughly questioned and discussed, but not what I thought the book was about.
Therefore if you are thinking about reading it go into it knowing that it’s very intellectual and the topic most discussed is the philosophy of insanity and that the holocaust plot that was promised in the synopsis is not at all within the first 25%. I think if you go into it knowing and liking that then you will enjoy the book.
October 17, 2019
Really enjoyed this book. If you are looking for a reiteration of Night, you will have to reassess your expectations. Though originally written (I believe) in French in 20th c., I find something inherently 19th c. Russian (especially Dostoevskian) in its psychological complexity. It falls more closely into the category of Notes from the Underground, The Bell Jar, or The Yellow Wallpaper. It is a riveting narrative about trauma, madness, psychoanalysis, and mental illness in a post-WWII, post-Holocaust landscape from the perspective of a Jewish survivor. Complete with all the frustrations, ugliness, and confusion that feels authentic to someone who has dealt the trauma of that era. Though the applications to mental illness and depression couldn’t be a more relevant to a time or generation than ours. Luckily counseling and medication have come a long way. There are so many parallels to today with struggles around sexual experience (afraid or hesitant of one’s sexuality especially for those coming from a deeply religious background), depression, and anxiety. The story unfolds over time with sophistication and elegance. I was sucked in quick and deep. Highly recommend. Not a light read, but well worth it.
December 30, 2023
Here is the tale of an old man rotting away; here is the wreckage of his life; here is the love that he ran from. Will he (or his therapist) find it? A tale that, through the eyes of an elderly Jewish expatriate recounting his past, takes us through the evolution of the Jewish diaspora and the questions they ask themselves. Is it right to bring life into the world after the almighty allows millions of children to be slaughtered?
I picked this book up at random and found it suddenly, powerfully, applying to current events. One theme is the emergence of a cohesive Jewish identity after World War II. Evidence of its strength is in how deeply its (intra-religious) factions disagree with one another on the legitimacy of Israel.
Historical context aside, the story is confusing and disjointed. This book requires patience. The ending leaves an unsatisfying taste in the mouth, but the prose is intriguing and sometimes rich.
“Oh, if I could only become a cloud set on fire by the sun, a torrent that knocks down powerful armies in its path.” (p. 9)
I picked this book up at random and found it suddenly, powerfully, applying to current events. One theme is the emergence of a cohesive Jewish identity after World War II. Evidence of its strength is in how deeply its (intra-religious) factions disagree with one another on the legitimacy of Israel.
Historical context aside, the story is confusing and disjointed. This book requires patience. The ending leaves an unsatisfying taste in the mouth, but the prose is intriguing and sometimes rich.
“Oh, if I could only become a cloud set on fire by the sun, a torrent that knocks down powerful armies in its path.” (p. 9)
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