Transparent Things revolves around the four visits of the hero sullen, gawky Hugh Person to Switzerland .As a young publisher, Hugh is sent to interview R., falls in love with Armande on the way, wrests her, aftermultiple humiliations, from a grinning Scandinavian and returns to NY with his bride Eight years later following a murder, a period of madness and a brief imprisonment Hugh makes a lone sentimental journey to wheedle out his past The several strands of dream, memory, and time are set off against the literary theorizing of R and, centrally, against the world of observable objects Martin Amis...
|Title||:||Transparent Things (Vintage International)|
|Format Type||:||Kindle Edition|
|Publisher||:||Vintage Auflage Vintage Intl 23 Oktober 1989|
|Number of Pages||:||126 Seiten|
|File Size||:||689 KB|
|Status||:||Available For Download|
|Last checked||:||21 Minutes ago!|
Transparent Things (Vintage International) Reviews
Hugh Person, an editor for a book publisher, lost in love. But there are things that remind him. Yes, many things. Nabokov's prose and relationships of present and past is wonderful to read. His words skim like a rock over the water which creates an emotional gestalt. Like all of Nabokov's novels, his characters are uniquely naieve, obsessive and guilty; which you just have to love. This book runs at 120 pages, and is one of his earlier works. I would reccomend this to those that already enjoy Nabokov and his words of wonder.
While Vladimir Nabokov is perhaps metafiction's most important literary lion, he is far from its founder. However, with his penultimate novel, TRANSPARENT THINGS, he actually takes transcends metafiction, quite literally removing it from this world and placing it firmly in the next. To put it bluntly (and putting aside all questions of quality), TT is an incomparable work. Although barely 100 pages, TT is one of the world's very most complex works of literature. To speak of the plot is deceiving since the perspective from and the manner in which the cynosure (viz., Hugh Person)'s tale is told -- and how he eventually relates to the teller(s)/telling -- is what the text is "about"; and comprehending this is no easy feat. While I personally don't consider John Updike a great mind, I don't think he can be derided for admitting that he was completely baffled by TT. (Incidentally, he still professed to admire and enjoy it.) This was, in fact, the general reaction to this book, a reaction which so frustrated Nabokov that he was prompted to break with his general reluctance to explicate his own work (an explication which he was obviously quite annoyed (and baffled to have) to give, as the confusion on the his readers' collective part was not due to any insufficiency in the book). (I hesitate to divulge where this interview can be found, but if you read the book and are similarly perplexed, any decent compendium on Nabokovian criticism will contain it, as there is VERY little that has been written on TT.) What can hardly be debated is the singular narrative approach Nabokov employs -- nay, creates! This novelty alone puts the reader in a place (s)he has never been and so a form or degree of literary vertigo is to be expected. As with all Nabokov, no matter the complexity and subtextual goings-on, the plot and character development of TT is not slighted -- and it is perhaps this Nabokovian trait which often allows even those who realize that they are perhaps missing the bulk of Nabokov's artisanship to still appreciate his art. Personally, I have neither enjoyed nor admired a work of art any more profoundly than I do this one.
nor a good starting point. While stylistically very much in keeping with works such as Lolita and Pale Fire (lyrical, smooth, entertaining, moving. A passage describing a pencil stub found in a hotel desk sticks in my memory. Nabokov gives it more life in a long paragraph than other authors can bestow upon a human character in a hundred pages), Transparent Things seems to trade the clever warmth of the earlier novels for a more experimental cleverness which gives the book the cooler feel of a puzzle box or jigsaw puzzle.While its comparatively inaccessible structure is off-putting, what I found most bothersome about Transparent Things was my inability to relate Nabokov's fragmented narration to the story being told. The text feels like a camera with a macro lens following Person through his life, picking up this object here, this scene there, all in magnified detail, but to an end that escapes me.One of Nabokov's greatest strengths is the multilayered nature of his novels. He is one of the exceptionally rare authors who allows a reader to take away exactly what they bring in. But this is not a one-sided trait, by which he crafts a text that runs infinitely deep and from which only the exceptionally scholarly are able to extract every last allusion and nuance from the text. It also means that over this depth there is a simple story that any reader can follow. In Transparent Things, this gift of Nabokov's seems employed in reverse, in that what is in essence a very simple story lies not on the surface, but is occluded by a layer of decidedly opaque murk.Perhaps this is the point of the novel--that things are not transparent, that every object does not present its story as simply as a novel does, but rather gives us hard, solid surfaces. However, an author such as Nabokov wastes his talent in making such a point. There are enough inscrutable surfaces in the world, but not enough books like Pale Fire, which offer, like cut diamond, varying degrees of transparency, depending on a viewer's angle.Save this one for later.
Nothing that Nabokov writes is "transparent." He always is referencing at least two things if not a whole plethora of images and metaphors at once with each line. In this novel, a late one, Nabokov has developed his inimical and sublime writing style. His sentences are virtual perfection. His illustrations are so real and yet so imaginary.In addition, the story line is very complex. The protagonist is traveling through Europe in a repetition of a trip long gone by. Many things do not come about as he would want them. Each time, for Nabokov's own particular reasons. Sexuality and the lack there of is tantamount to the story. Yet what makes the telling so particularly `Nabokov' is the manner in which he switches from temporal event to temporal event without necessarily giving any indication to the reader that we have come "unstuck in time."While the book is a rather short 104 pages, the complexity that is built into the story will hold all serious readers of literature in rapt attention. The story moves quickly and it is necessary for the reader to slow down the pace of the reading to make sure that the implications are properly conveyed and absorbed. It truly is a highly recommended example of Nabokov's true literary genius.
This book was in perfect condition, just as promised. I have never been as happy with the quality of a book as I was this one
It's not superb, but it works. It is an older edition, and I haven't even opened it yet. It's for class, and I'm kind of Nabokoved out.
With nary a page wasted nor too many, Nabokov dissects the life of one Hugh Person--a life otherwise unworthy of particular note except for what Person does one night...in his sleep.In just over 100 pages Nabokov has crafted a surprisingly rich and evocative psychological thriller that is also high literary art. The stunning use of language and narrative technique is every bit as enjoyable and challenging as the story itself. Nabokov is a prose stylist with very few peers and that makes this novelette something quite special.The story of Hugh Person, murderer, starts off without much hint of what is to come. Indeed, it takes a while, even in such a short work, to figure out what Nabokov is up to in telling the life-story of such an unspectacular person-age. But Hugh will fall rather hopelessly in love on a business trip to Europe with a woman as complicated as he is "simple." Working as an editor/proofreader to a great--if eccentric and notoriously difficult--author Hugh, who seems doomed to mediocrity in his own life, is not only out of his league, but out of his orbit in the company of Armande. She has him wrapped around her little toe, almost literally, and this sort of obsessive relationship can never end well. In fact, its always only a matter of how badly such connections end.This one ends just about as badly as it gets.Nabokov is a joy to read--if you love the sensual and intellectual possibilities inherent in language when utilized by a virtuoso. Transparent Things is minimalist Nabokov--allusive and elusive. --but no less challenging than anything else he's written. A late novel, but a great one, it's often overlooked when looking at Nabokov's oeuvre--it shouldnt be!