“Was it love or wasn't it that she felt for Carol? And how absurd it was that she didn't even know. She had heard about girls falling in love, and she knew what kind of people they were and what they looked like. Neither she nor Carol looked like that. Yet the way she felt about Carol passed all the tests for love and fitted all the descriptions.”

First published in 1952, Highsmith's "The Price of Salt" was likely considered quite risque at its debut as it explores the intimate relationship between 19-year old Therese and the older Carol -- a wealthy woman with a young daughter who is going through a divorce (this book is also the basis for the movie "Carol," recently out in theaters).

If you're looking for a book that explores the depths of human relationships -- as well as their costs -- you've come to the right place. Emotions abound in the text as Therese and Carol sort out their feelings about life, friends, family, and each other.

Highsmith also makes the 1950s come alive -- cocktails, records, road trips, and fashion. But most profoundly Highsmith exposes the challenges Therese and Carol face from society.

“She had seen just now what she had only sensed before, that the whole world was ready to be their enemy, and suddenly what she and Carol had together seemed no longer love or anything happy but a monster between them, with each of them caught in a fist.”

While I enjoyed the entire book, the last couple of chapters were particularly satisfying. ( )

Intoxicating. Sophisticated. Does not lend itself well as an audiobook on the way to and from vacation with your mother. Beautiful. ( )

No idea why my bookshelves keep presenting me with lesbian stories but I found [a:Patricia Highsmith|7622|Patricia Highsmith|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1418715271p2/7622.jpg]'s Carol entrancing. I was certainly not prepared for 200 pages of sexual tension. But after reading [b:Little Tales of Misogyny|16080338|Little Tales of Misogyny|Patricia Highsmith|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1349962505l/16080338._SY75_.jpg|56519] I was prepared for something special.

That a boring old hetro like me should find such a tale so gripping, says a lot about the power of the book and, of course, about the excellence of Patricia Highsmith's writing.

The flash of recognition, confirmed by my lesbian neighbours, is intriguing.

...and Therese saw the glance linger on her for an instant, while in Therese there took place a shock a little like that she had known when she had seen Carol for the first time, and there was the same flash of interest in the woman's blue eyes that had been in her own, she knew, when she first saw Carol.

( )

read to pg 122 ( )

Ho una teoria personale: ogni donna, indipendentemente dall’orientamento sessuale, dovrebbe leggere tonnellate di romanzi con protagoniste donne lesbiche perché poche altre storie vi daranno un quadro altrettanto chiaro dell'oppressione patriarcale senza il bisogno di fare troppi spiegoni. Ovviamente, se leggerete i classici, preparate i fazzoletti perché le storie lesbo hanno il brutto vizio di finire in tragedia.

Si sa, alle donne mal si perdona di essere trasgressive (o di non venerare l’insicuro maschio alfa di turno)...

Carol ha dalla sua il pregio di essere impenitente: racconta una storia dove si è consapevoli dell’infelicità che schiaccia chi si è arresa alle convenzioni e dove si va avanti a testa alta, senza dimenticare la compassione per chi non ha avuto – o potuto avere – la stessa forza.

Carol Aird – che, sebbene non abbia ancora visto il film, mi sono immaginata tutto il tempo come la divina Cate Blachett – è un personaggio femminile di grande potenza: riesce a tener testa alla crudeltà e alla grettezza del marito e a prendere una strada che nessuna brava donnina di casa avrebbe mai preso, insegnando anche a noi che quella strada esiste e che possiamo percorrerla senza spezzarci. Anzi.

Therese Belivet, invece, mi ha suscitato sentimenti ambigui: da una parte ne ho amato il percorso di crescita che la porta dall’essere una giovane donna incerta a una giovane donna che prende in mano il suo futuro; dall’altra per gran parte del romanzo mi è sembrata così irresoluta e apatica da darmi quasi ai nervi.

Però devo ringraziarla per aver rotto quella statua della Madonna: l’ho trovato un gesto così liberatorio che quella scena è entrata di diritto tra le mie preferite della letteratura. Farà bene anche a voi leggerla: fidatevi. ( )