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Divine Comedy
The Divine Comedy is a fugue and a black comedy. In delicious and bawdy detail, an unnamed narrator offers snapshots into the lives and loves of an astonishing cast of philanderers and fuckups while along the way, the evidence amasses for a comic, cosmic conspiracy. Craig Raine's second novel, The Divine Comedy , is a voyeuristic meditation on sex and insecurity, God and the nature of the human body—its capacity for pleasure and pain, its desires, disappointments, and its many mortifying betrayals.
- GenresFiction
192 pages, Hardcover
First published June 1, 2012
2 people are currently reading
24 people want to read
About the author
Craig Raine
82 books46 followersPoet and critic Craig Raine was born on 3 December 1944 in Bishop Auckland, England, and read English at Exeter College, Oxford.
He lectured at Exeter College (1971-2), Lincoln College, Oxford, (1974-5), and Christ Church, Oxford, (1976-9), and was books editor for New Review (1977-8), editor of Quarto (1979-80), and poetry editor at the New Statesman (1981). Reviews and articles from this period are collected in Haydn and the Valve Trumpet (1990). He became poetry editor at the London publishers Faber and Faber in 1981, and became a fellow of New College, Oxford, in 1991. He gained a Cholmondeley Award in 1983 and the Sunday Times Writer of the Year Award in 1998. He is founder and editor of the literary magazine Areté.
His poetry collections include the acclaimed The Onion, Memory (1978), A Martian Sends a Postcard Home (1979), A Free Translation (1981), Rich (1984) and History: The Home Movie (1994), an epic poem that celebrates the history of his own family and that of his wife. His libretto The Electrification of the Soviet Union (1986) is based on The Last Summer, a novella by Boris Pasternak. Collected Poems 1978-1999 was published in 1999. A new long poem A la recherche du temps perdu, an elegy to a former lover, and a collection of his reviews and essays, entitled In Defence of T. S. Eliot, were both published in 2000. Another collection of essays, More Dynamite, appeared in 2013.
Craig Raine lives in Oxford. His latest books are How Snow Falls (2010), a new poetry collection; and two novels, Heartbreak (2010), and The Divine Comedy (2012).
He lectured at Exeter College (1971-2), Lincoln College, Oxford, (1974-5), and Christ Church, Oxford, (1976-9), and was books editor for New Review (1977-8), editor of Quarto (1979-80), and poetry editor at the New Statesman (1981). Reviews and articles from this period are collected in Haydn and the Valve Trumpet (1990). He became poetry editor at the London publishers Faber and Faber in 1981, and became a fellow of New College, Oxford, in 1991. He gained a Cholmondeley Award in 1983 and the Sunday Times Writer of the Year Award in 1998. He is founder and editor of the literary magazine Areté.
His poetry collections include the acclaimed The Onion, Memory (1978), A Martian Sends a Postcard Home (1979), A Free Translation (1981), Rich (1984) and History: The Home Movie (1994), an epic poem that celebrates the history of his own family and that of his wife. His libretto The Electrification of the Soviet Union (1986) is based on The Last Summer, a novella by Boris Pasternak. Collected Poems 1978-1999 was published in 1999. A new long poem A la recherche du temps perdu, an elegy to a former lover, and a collection of his reviews and essays, entitled In Defence of T. S. Eliot, were both published in 2000. Another collection of essays, More Dynamite, appeared in 2013.
Craig Raine lives in Oxford. His latest books are How Snow Falls (2010), a new poetry collection; and two novels, Heartbreak (2010), and The Divine Comedy (2012).
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Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews
March 10, 2012
If I had to describe The Divine Comedy by Craig Raine in one word, it would be “unflinching”. The cover depicts a close up of a male face, in hyper-real, high definition close up, and this is a sign of things to come. The Divine Comedy is a challenging novel from an author best known as a poet. Its structure is unusual – there is a plot, though this unfolds only periodically and probably occupies less than half of the text. The remainder is a series of digressions, reflections and anecdotes which expand on the events in the novel, providing interpretation and commentary on them. It is almost as if the plot is incidental, and the core of the book is the observations of the author on the events he has created and is narrating.
In the acknowledgements, Craig Raine thanks Milan Kundera for inventing this kind of novel. Perhaps in homage, most of the plot is set in Eastern Europe. We follow a cast of characters as they deal with their relationships and illnesses. The main preoccupations of the book are sex and disease, and a bright, focused narrative light is shone on both. There is no sentimentality on display – we are animals and events are depicted in unflinching close up detail. This is not a novel for the fainthearted or weak stomached, either in terms of intellectual content or descriptive detail.
In particular, there is a great deal of reflection on the penis in all of its states. The male characters are greatly concerned with the size of their appendages, and there are many digressions about the penis’s of various literary figures and minor celebrities (ex-formula one racing drive Eddie Irvine sticks in my memory). Characters, both male and female, are continually afflicted by diseases effecting the sexual organs or sexual performance. While sex is at the centre of most people’s lives, it is rather ridiculous when looked at close up. Someone must be playing a joke on us (and hence, presumably, the title). The continual discussion of the penis is initially amusing, and throughout this book there are many moments which will cause a chuckle, but ultimately it becomes a little wearisome. However, I suspect that this is part of the point.
In addition to its challenging content and style, the vocabulary and language of The Divine Comedy are likely to stretch many readers. There are some fantastic descriptive moments, as you might expect from a poet – “her black eyelashes were wet calligraphy” – but Craig Raine also delights in using a wide range of uncommon words. Aporia, tantulus and synecdoche all cropped up in one paragraph, for instance. So if you are the sort of reader who likes to understand everything you are reading, you may wish to keep a dictionary at hand unless you have an extensive vocabulary.
Did I enjoy this book? Yes, I did, and I would recommend it to others. It is a book I will remember, both for its amusing moments and its overall structure. It contains some very funny anecdotes. However, I think it will appeal mainly to habitual readers of literary fiction who are not easily offended or shocked, or those looking to challenge themselves.
In the acknowledgements, Craig Raine thanks Milan Kundera for inventing this kind of novel. Perhaps in homage, most of the plot is set in Eastern Europe. We follow a cast of characters as they deal with their relationships and illnesses. The main preoccupations of the book are sex and disease, and a bright, focused narrative light is shone on both. There is no sentimentality on display – we are animals and events are depicted in unflinching close up detail. This is not a novel for the fainthearted or weak stomached, either in terms of intellectual content or descriptive detail.
In particular, there is a great deal of reflection on the penis in all of its states. The male characters are greatly concerned with the size of their appendages, and there are many digressions about the penis’s of various literary figures and minor celebrities (ex-formula one racing drive Eddie Irvine sticks in my memory). Characters, both male and female, are continually afflicted by diseases effecting the sexual organs or sexual performance. While sex is at the centre of most people’s lives, it is rather ridiculous when looked at close up. Someone must be playing a joke on us (and hence, presumably, the title). The continual discussion of the penis is initially amusing, and throughout this book there are many moments which will cause a chuckle, but ultimately it becomes a little wearisome. However, I suspect that this is part of the point.
In addition to its challenging content and style, the vocabulary and language of The Divine Comedy are likely to stretch many readers. There are some fantastic descriptive moments, as you might expect from a poet – “her black eyelashes were wet calligraphy” – but Craig Raine also delights in using a wide range of uncommon words. Aporia, tantulus and synecdoche all cropped up in one paragraph, for instance. So if you are the sort of reader who likes to understand everything you are reading, you may wish to keep a dictionary at hand unless you have an extensive vocabulary.
Did I enjoy this book? Yes, I did, and I would recommend it to others. It is a book I will remember, both for its amusing moments and its overall structure. It contains some very funny anecdotes. However, I think it will appeal mainly to habitual readers of literary fiction who are not easily offended or shocked, or those looking to challenge themselves.
August 14, 2020
Although ostensibly presented as a novel, The Divine Comedy is not your common garden piece of fiction.
There is a indeed some sort of story, threaded through the book, that focuses on the relationships of two couples. A mere device, however, for there is much else besides.
The book is a collection of recollections and ruminations that owe more to the scrapbook and the memoir than the novel. As if the reader were invited by Raine to partake in a well-oiled dinner party during which a voluble raconteur would digress and reminisce freely, from literary gossip to pathology. These were to me the more entertaining, interesting, and yes, informative moments in the book.
On page 171, Raine informs us that "[...] good writing is bound to give offence - by saying inconveniently unconventional things, by disagreeing. And therefore will often seem disagreeable."
This is quite possibly the mission-statement for Raine's present effort. Some readers may certainly feel inclined to ascribe to Raine an aspiration to "good writing" as defined by him. While the prose is wittily poetic (Raines is best known as a poet, as I discovered) yet conversational, that fluent language is harnessed to describe rather earthy matters.
Penises, vaginas, their woes and tribulations feature predominantly and unflinchingly throughout. Raine has not qualms with being explicit but somehow he manages to avoid vulgarity and pruriency, and his openness adds up to something that is rather fresh and engaging.
The divine comedy of the title is I think to be understood as a god-given curse whereby sexuality and its feeble and ridiculous instruments take such a central and dominating place in people's myopic lives. A glib and pessimistic diagnosis on the human condition that is delivered with a smile and more than one pirouette.
This unorthodox text will by no means be to everyone's taste, some will indeed find this "disagreeable", but those who dare let Raine be their guide and embark on that journey will, I think, find it rewarding.
There is a indeed some sort of story, threaded through the book, that focuses on the relationships of two couples. A mere device, however, for there is much else besides.
The book is a collection of recollections and ruminations that owe more to the scrapbook and the memoir than the novel. As if the reader were invited by Raine to partake in a well-oiled dinner party during which a voluble raconteur would digress and reminisce freely, from literary gossip to pathology. These were to me the more entertaining, interesting, and yes, informative moments in the book.
On page 171, Raine informs us that "[...] good writing is bound to give offence - by saying inconveniently unconventional things, by disagreeing. And therefore will often seem disagreeable."
This is quite possibly the mission-statement for Raine's present effort. Some readers may certainly feel inclined to ascribe to Raine an aspiration to "good writing" as defined by him. While the prose is wittily poetic (Raines is best known as a poet, as I discovered) yet conversational, that fluent language is harnessed to describe rather earthy matters.
Penises, vaginas, their woes and tribulations feature predominantly and unflinchingly throughout. Raine has not qualms with being explicit but somehow he manages to avoid vulgarity and pruriency, and his openness adds up to something that is rather fresh and engaging.
The divine comedy of the title is I think to be understood as a god-given curse whereby sexuality and its feeble and ridiculous instruments take such a central and dominating place in people's myopic lives. A glib and pessimistic diagnosis on the human condition that is delivered with a smile and more than one pirouette.
This unorthodox text will by no means be to everyone's taste, some will indeed find this "disagreeable", but those who dare let Raine be their guide and embark on that journey will, I think, find it rewarding.
Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews