Rating: 
Summary: A magnetic read you won't put down
Review: "Endless Love."This book belies its sappy name - which is also a pun, once you discover the staying power of the male protagonist. "Endless Libido" might have been more apropos. I read this four-hundred page book in two days; it's that good. What we have here is the classic crossed lovers scenario painted with twentieth century prose. The sexuality is graphic, lurid at times, but never prurient: comfortably, [naturally?] sacred and profane at the same time. The style is pure with clear magisterial "voice." Part of the novel's charm is the reverence with which the raunchiest encounters and juiciest passions are described. The author's first person narrative reads as conventional text directed to you, the reader; then, suddenly, the author-reader contract is violated as the protagonist slips into another true confession to his "endless" love. As you gradually allow yourself to participate in the customary conventions of a willing suspension of disbelief between author and reader, you continually remark the absolutely intense perspicacity and eye for detail of the "teenage author." The sustained subliminal effect of this (eye for sensual detail) is evocative of Oscar Wilde: you're fascinated, you identify, you quietly and vicariously revel. Fundamentally, this is a passion play, a book of torture, for the deepest of the pains of hell is the absence of the beloved, and the protagonist has his share of this living nightmare. Additionally, I didn't (nor do) care for the ending. If you've read the book, you likely know why. If you haven't, no matter. (I began having "1984" flashbacks reading the finale - and that is a very soulless affair, indeed.) "Characters develop," we hear tell. There's not much of that here. It doesn't matter, either. For what we have here is a valuable testament to the power of love. Typical fare:
"My imagination of disaster tormented me as if it were a separate, vicious self. I longed to stop thinking of consequences, just as we must do when we dive from high boards, leap on our skis down steep sunblind slopes, or play any of the other daredevil games we've invented as metaphors for love. (150) "Ann's grief was like what I had known of love: it increased itself; it wound its way to its very source. . . . This, now, was Ann as she really was: savage, helpless, eternal. . . . Her hold on me was contact at its most true and elemental: like two wolves huddling together in a blizzard, we grabbed each other and held on to life. (240-1) "Of course when you love someone it is a tireless passion to experience their pleasure, especially sexual pleasure. Of all the many perversions, the one I found myself most capable of succumbing to was voyeurism - as long as the object of my voyeurism was Jade. I never failed to be moved by her expressions of sexual pleasure. When we were first learning to make love and I had some trouble in controlling myself, she had to be careful to keep as quiet as possible. Even heavy breathing would speed my climax, not to even mention moans. Later in our life together, when we were making love three, four, and five times a night (for our passion grew with our prowess), Jade would sometimes become impatient for my final orgasm - which would come with more difficulty than hers, because of the natural differences between the genders - and to bring us safely home so we both might fall asleep she would feign groans of pleasure with her lips right next to my ear, or say my name. It wouldn't really take anything more than that." (313) This is a book with a good heart.
Rating:
Summary: A magnetic read you won't put down
Review: "Endless Love." This book belies its sappy name - which is also a pun, once you discover the staying power of the male protagonist. "Endless Libido" might have been more apropos. I read this four-hundred page book in two days; it's that good. What we have here is the classic crossed lovers scenario painted with twentieth century prose. The sexuality is graphic, lurid at times, but never prurient: comfortably, [naturally?] sacred and profane at the same time. The style is pure with clear magisterial "voice." Part of the novel's charm is the reverence with which the raunchiest encounters and juiciest passions are described. The author's first person narrative reads as conventional text directed to you, the reader; then, suddenly, the author-reader contract is violated as the protagonist slips into another true confession to his "endless" love. As you gradually allow yourself to participate in the customary conventions of a willing suspension of disbelief between author and reader, you continually remark the absolutely intense perspicacity and eye for detail of the "teenage author." The sustained subliminal effect of this (eye for sensual detail) is evocative of Oscar Wilde: you're fascinated, you identify, you quietly and vicariously revel. Fundamentally, this is a passion play, a book of torture, for the deepest of the pains of hell is the absence of the beloved, and the protagonist has his share of this living nightmare. Additionally, I didn't (nor do) care for the ending. If you've read the book, you likely know why. If you haven't, no matter. (I began having "1984" flashbacks reading the finale - and that is a very soulless affair, indeed.) "Characters develop," we hear tell. There's not much of that here. It doesn't matter, either. For what we have here is a valuable testament to the power of love. Typical fare:
"My imagination of disaster tormented me as if it were a separate, vicious self. I longed to stop thinking of consequences, just as we must do when we dive from high boards, leap on our skis down steep sunblind slopes, or play any of the other daredevil games we've invented as metaphors for love. (150) "Ann's grief was like what I had known of love: it increased itself; it wound its way to its very source. . . . This, now, was Ann as she really was: savage, helpless, eternal. . . . Her hold on me was contact at its most true and elemental: like two wolves huddling together in a blizzard, we grabbed each other and held on to life. (240-1) "Of course when you love someone it is a tireless passion to experience their pleasure, especially sexual pleasure. Of all the many perversions, the one I found myself most capable of succumbing to was voyeurism - as long as the object of my voyeurism was Jade. I never failed to be moved by her expressions of sexual pleasure. When we were first learning to make love and I had some trouble in controlling myself, she had to be careful to keep as quiet as possible. Even heavy breathing would speed my climax, not to even mention moans. Later in our life together, when we were making love three, four, and five times a night (for our passion grew with our prowess), Jade would sometimes become impatient for my final orgasm - which would come with more difficulty than hers, because of the natural differences between the genders - and to bring us safely home so we both might fall asleep she would feign groans of pleasure with her lips right next to my ear, or say my name. It wouldn't really take anything more than that." (313) This is a book with a good heart.
Rating: 
Summary: Not That Great
Review: I don't understand why so many people loved this novel so much. It is interesting until about the middle, then it starts to get more boring. The sex scenes are boring and unoriginal, and I don't see why David is supposed to be "innocent", when he is clearly disturbed.
Rating: 
Summary: haunting story of love gone wrong
Review: I first read Endless Love when it first came out in 1980, but probably would not have had I seen the unfortunate film adaptation first. That would have been a shame, as this book was truly unforgettable and has become one of my all time favorites. Had it not been for the badly made film, this book would still be in print and would have become a modern classic.
I have read it several times since it first was published, and am saddened to find it is no longer in print.
Spencer's writing is astonishing in its depth of feeling and the beauty of its prose. I am not a big fan of romances in general, but Endless Love is so honest in its depiction of a romantically obsessed young man that for this I make an exception. If you've ever been deeply in love, much of what is described will be painfully--and wonderfully--familiar. Trust me: this is no Harlequin romance. You will not find cliches or sappiness here. The few[physical] scenes, while explicit, are never trashy or shallow. In fact, they are necessary to truly bring to life the depth of David's feelings for his lover, Jade. These scenes are long and powerful. The type of love David experiences transforms the mundane to the poetic, the disgusting to the beautiful. ... So are David's scenes with Jade's wordly mother Ann. The emotions in these scenes are astonishing, powerful, and many-faceted. We get to know both characters intimately, and while we could fault them for their immorality and lack of good judgment, we realize they are desperate--and both desperately miserable. They can't help what they do, so we can forgive them, and sympathize with them. David is nearly constantly in tears or plotting to find the girl he can never forget. His misery is so intense it is almost a tangible thing. (Don't read this if you don't want to feel depressed). His traditional Jewish parents love him but do not understand him, or his obsession. Frightened and concerned about their only son, they they throw away Jade's letters "for his own good," which turns out to be the worst thing they could have done. Those letters were David's only tangible evidence of his shortlived life with Jade--and he literally falls to pieces there in front of their kitchen sink. The saddest thing is the disparity between David and Jade's lives after the fire, and after David is released from the hospital. Jade, evidently, was able to move on and create a life for herself; David cannot--will not--let go. David is part of her past, a teenage romance, and she could take or leave him; to David, Jade is his only reason for living. Yet he is not a stalker in the sense one normally associates with that term. He never becomes violent or abusive in his efforts to win her back; the violence is only to himself. He is his own worst enemy, and he never is able to realize that, and move on. Witnessing the slow disintegration of his mind and soul is a frightening and tragic thing. If you are able to get your hands on a copy of this book, grab it and read it! ... Spencer's writing style alone is reason enough to read Endless Love. I have read some of Spencer's other books, but this is by far my favorite.
Rating:
Summary: haunting story of love gone wrong
Review: I read a lot of books. I love to read, and my selections cover a wide spectrum - everything from Shakespeare to the much maligned Harlequin romances. But never, ever have I read anything that can compare with "Endless Love". The gorgeous prose hooks you in from the first sentence and doesn't let up until the last line, when you're holding the book with shaking hands, wondering how to let it go. Because this is one of those rare stories that *won't* let you go. The characters - David, Jade, and Ann in particular - take root and germinate inside you, never to leave again. David's description of falling in love and losing that love are part of the universal human experience. David merely got caught doing what a lot of us have done. Unable to let go of what others dismissed as a teenage romance, he clings to his memories of Jade and her family until the world views him as unhealthy. And maybe he is. But the reader is so convinced of the depths of his love for Jade, that being with her is the only way David will ever be happy, that we side with him, becoming his partner in crime. The 30+ page love scene some 200 or more pages into the book is a masterpiece. I've read countless sex scenes and *none* compare to this one. It borders on becoming an out of body experience. One feeling I was left with was that perception is everything in this story. David believed his relationship with Jade to be worth everything. Jade loved David, but essentially could live without him. They viewed their bond in very different ways. Take a chance on this modern classic. If you've ever been so much in love that rules no longer applied, you'll walk away from this book forever changed.
Rating:
Summary: outstanding, breathtaking, truly unique experience....
Review: I too thought this book was "my little secret!" How wonderful to hear from others who feel the same way. One of the few books that have truly broken my heart - I felt changed after I read it. My ideas on love, obsession, living, family, and madness - all were altered by Scott Spencers' suberb, unduplicable writing stye. The intensity of his emotional and physical descriptions, coming from the viewpoint of David, leave you breathless and yearing for more. A masterpiece novel - one of my all time favorites, 15 years after first reading it!!
Rating:
Summary: Special!
Review: I'm one of the three or four people on Earth who loved the movie. I confess to always being a big fan of Brooke Shields. She is just a year older than I, and even back in the very early 80's, I wanted to be like her. I'm proud to say that even 25+ years later, she's still an example I'd be happy to try to emulate. Anyway, I always loved the movie, and only recently bought and read the book. It is a wonderful book. Anyone who has been in love - THIS KIND of love - will understand exactly how David feels and his inmpulsiveness when it comes to wanting Jade to be with him at any cost. If you liked the movie, read the book. Even if you didn't like the movie, but you enjoy a good, honest, well-written NON-sappy book about a young couple in love, read the book. You won't regret it.
Rating:
Summary: It sucks you in
Review: I've been having a hard time getting into reading lately, but this book really engaged me. The writing is lyrical and psychological and hypnotic. I can't get over how good the prose is, which is usually the first reason I turn to a book, and not for plot. It's very descriptive, but hardly ever over descriptive, and it's easy to imagine the characters. Then there is the story that draws you in with a sense of suspense. The transition from part one to part two is strong, in particular. At that point, you can't help being glued to the book. I haven't read anything else by him, only looked over some stuff, but from what I've seen it doesn't seem to match the lyrical intensity of Endless Love.
Rating:
Summary: phenomenological
Review: one of the best novels i've ever read. i picked it up from the recommended books pile at the bookstore and in 2 minutes was hooked. in the first 10 pages, david, the hero tries to get back into his girlfriend jade's house by covertly starting a fire and then heroically putting it out. unfortunately, her hip family is tripping on acid, reacts slowly, and he accidentally burns down the house. what an opening! i didn't put the book down til i finished it. a top example of a phenomenological novel: the writer puts us into the head of an unfamiliar type of protagonist. the hero is sympathetic; i was totally behind him. go, david; get jade back! yet the hero is, from an outside perspective, a stalker!
Rating:
Summary: Vivid yet deep
Review: This book is much more complex than simply a love story--it's a novel swimming in social, political and literary themes that are brilliantly all tied to the very real emotions of a love affair. The way that David and Jade's respective parents represent the polarity of post-war rebellion--Jade's are emotional rebels while Davids are social--make the meaning of the character's love more than insular. In fact, whether Spencer did it subconsciously or not, I think that the primary purpose of the book is to show how obsessiveness is simply THE way that humans live now. David's constant rubbing against institution masquerading as his friend-- the hippie parole officer, the "progressive" psychiatrist--shows how we are simultaneously bound by the same systems that we like the think we broke free from, but at the same time given a taste of something much more satisfying. A great emotional reality that we find ourselves obsessively pursuing. This book is much more than a romance novel. The 30-page sex scene in the middle is proof of this. What Harlequin novel would portray the insecurities of the characters as they make love so vividly, would be so frank about their physical limitations and roughness. This is horrible, beautiful novel, which should be far more revered than it is.
| 
