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De gyllene frukterna
Nathalie Sarraute (1900-1999) räknas till den franska nya romanens förgrundsfigurer, men liknar egentligen inte någon annan författare från samma tid. Hon eftersträvade, med sina egna ord, en litterär text "lika anonym som blod", för att kunna skriva fram "det osagda". För De gyllene frukterna tilldelades hon det prestigefyllda Prix international de littérature 1963.
Lorenz von Numers översättning från sextiotalet har här reviderats av Nova Gullberg Zetterstrand och Henrik Petersen. Med ett förord av författaren och kritikern Laura Lindstedt.
Lorenz von Numers översättning från sextiotalet har här reviderats av Nova Gullberg Zetterstrand och Henrik Petersen. Med ett förord av författaren och kritikern Laura Lindstedt.
149 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1963
23 people are currently reading
829 people want to read
About the author
Nathalie Sarraute
76 books225 followersNathalie Sarraute (July 18, 1900 in Ivanovo, Russia – October 19, 1999 in Paris, France) was a lawyer and a French writer of Russian-Jewish origin.
Sarraute was born Natalia/Natacha Tcherniak in Ivanovo (then known as Ivanovo-Voznesensk), 300 km north-east of Moscow in 1900 (although she frequently referred to the year of her birth as 1902, a date still cited in select reference works), and, following the divorce of her parents, spent her childhood shuttled between France and Russia. In 1909 she moved to Paris with her father. Sarraute studied law and literature at the prestigious Sorbonne, having a particular fondness for 20th century literature and the works of Marcel Proust and Virginia Woolf, who greatly affected her conception of the novel, then later studied history at Oxford and sociology in Berlin, before passing the French bar exam (1926-1941) and becoming a lawyer.
In 1925, she married Raymond Sarraute, a fellow lawyer, with whom she would have three daughters. In 1932 she wrote her first book, Tropismes, a series of brief sketches and memories that set the tone for her entire oeuvre. The novel was first published in 1939, although the impact of World War II stunted its popularity. In 1941, Sarraute, who was Jewish, was released from her work as a lawyer as a result of Nazi law. During this time, she went into hiding and made arrangements to divorce her husband in an effort to protect him (although they would eventually stay together).
Nathalie Sarraute dies when she was ninety-nine years old. Her daughter, the journalist Claude Sarraute, was married to French Academician Jean-François Revel.
From Wikipedia
Sarraute was born Natalia/Natacha Tcherniak in Ivanovo (then known as Ivanovo-Voznesensk), 300 km north-east of Moscow in 1900 (although she frequently referred to the year of her birth as 1902, a date still cited in select reference works), and, following the divorce of her parents, spent her childhood shuttled between France and Russia. In 1909 she moved to Paris with her father. Sarraute studied law and literature at the prestigious Sorbonne, having a particular fondness for 20th century literature and the works of Marcel Proust and Virginia Woolf, who greatly affected her conception of the novel, then later studied history at Oxford and sociology in Berlin, before passing the French bar exam (1926-1941) and becoming a lawyer.
In 1925, she married Raymond Sarraute, a fellow lawyer, with whom she would have three daughters. In 1932 she wrote her first book, Tropismes, a series of brief sketches and memories that set the tone for her entire oeuvre. The novel was first published in 1939, although the impact of World War II stunted its popularity. In 1941, Sarraute, who was Jewish, was released from her work as a lawyer as a result of Nazi law. During this time, she went into hiding and made arrangements to divorce her husband in an effort to protect him (although they would eventually stay together).
Nathalie Sarraute dies when she was ninety-nine years old. Her daughter, the journalist Claude Sarraute, was married to French Academician Jean-François Revel.
From Wikipedia
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 59 reviews
July 17, 2020
Have you ever sit outside cafe on a busy street while people just passing along with different speed and only thing you register is snippets of their conversations without beginning or end. Sometimes a few sentences, sometimes just word. Also visually sometimes you see only a stand alone gesture, or a fragment of a face or the colour of a dress. I once was thinking of doing a study. Just sit like that for a whole day, record those things like a stream and see what come out at the end. But I never came around to do it.
Sarraute way of writing this novel has reminded me about it. I felt being dropped right into the middle of ongoing conversation conducted by a set of the voices. A new set would start while the previous one would fade from our ear. Only difference between what I described earlier and this book is that all of these people discuss the common topic. They all talk about “Golden fruits”. You won’t figure out how many characters are there and barely get who they are. Only thing important is what they say. It is a wonderfully disorienting way of writing that sucks you in and does not let you drop off the bus so to speak.
“Golden fruits” they talk about is a book. The title is unavoidably symbolic. It might be a kind of book which appears soft and pleasant. But when one starts reading it he might “cut his teeth” over the hardness of a metal. Never mind it is gold.
In the novel Sarraute examines a new book as a phenomena. More strictly how a book moves from total obscurity to a sudden hype. How this situation shapes the prevailing opinions. How many people react on the utterances of the perceived authorities and how difficult to be in decent. Sarraute also made me think why it is so often at some stage the discussion about a book moves into discussion of the personal life of the author. She is so effective in showing that the real life of the book could only start when the hype is over.
Wonderful gentle satire, very relevant and intelligently metafictional. The fact that I read the book called “Golden fruits” more that 60 years since it has first appeared has proved her point.
Sarraute way of writing this novel has reminded me about it. I felt being dropped right into the middle of ongoing conversation conducted by a set of the voices. A new set would start while the previous one would fade from our ear. Only difference between what I described earlier and this book is that all of these people discuss the common topic. They all talk about “Golden fruits”. You won’t figure out how many characters are there and barely get who they are. Only thing important is what they say. It is a wonderfully disorienting way of writing that sucks you in and does not let you drop off the bus so to speak.
“Golden fruits” they talk about is a book. The title is unavoidably symbolic. It might be a kind of book which appears soft and pleasant. But when one starts reading it he might “cut his teeth” over the hardness of a metal. Never mind it is gold.
In the novel Sarraute examines a new book as a phenomena. More strictly how a book moves from total obscurity to a sudden hype. How this situation shapes the prevailing opinions. How many people react on the utterances of the perceived authorities and how difficult to be in decent. Sarraute also made me think why it is so often at some stage the discussion about a book moves into discussion of the personal life of the author. She is so effective in showing that the real life of the book could only start when the hype is over.
Wonderful gentle satire, very relevant and intelligently metafictional. The fact that I read the book called “Golden fruits” more that 60 years since it has first appeared has proved her point.
January 6, 2022
رواية غريبة كُتبت بأسلوب غامض وغير معتاد وصعب نوعاً ما؛ حوار مُجتزأ بلا نقطة بداية أو نهاية، ممتد على طول الصفحات، يدور بين شخصيات غير محددة المعالم، حول رواية بعنوان " ثمار الذهب "، يبدأ غير مفهوماً وينتهي كذلك .. يُستشف منه اختلاف الناس في تقييمهم للأمور والطريقة التي يكونون بها آرائهم، والمؤثرات التي تقف وراء هذه الآراء، والدوافع وراء إخفاءها أو التصريح بها، هذا ما التقتطه منها بالمختصر.
لا أستطيع إخفاء أنني قد أعجبت بها لشيء لا أعرف ماهيّته، لكني بالتأكيد لم أفهمها.
لا أستطيع إخفاء أنني قد أعجبت بها لشيء لا أعرف ماهيّته، لكني بالتأكيد لم أفهمها.
January 10, 2021
Štai taip ir atsitiko, kad knygas, kurios iš esmės buvo tuščios, kiekvienas stengėsi kuo nors pripildyti...Patys jautriausi, patys protingiausi žmonės krovė į jas — ir kaip dosniai! — visus savo turtus... nedidelėje jų apimtyje įžvelgdavo subtilų žavesį... Jų neaiškume atskleisdavo dievai žino kokią prasmę... o paskui tos knygos tarsi subliukšdavo ... sunku buvo atlaikyti tokį svorį... jos grįždavo į savo pirminį būvį, susitraukdavo į tai, kas buvo iš tikrųjų: tuščios... neaiškios... prastos... banalios... aogailėtinos...
May 25, 2014
Until February of this year, Les Fruits d’Or felt to me like Duras’ Le Ravissement de Lol V Stein. Twice did I start with both books, only to find myself quickly dropping them and moving to a more familiar book. This time, though, I came prepared; quite prepared actually.
By chance, I stumbled upon Alain Robbe-Grillet’s Preface A Une Vie d’Ecrivain, freely available on ubu.com. I was vaguely familiar with Robbe-Grillet and his Nouveau Roman phenomenon but until I heard him defending himself and his Nouveau Roman and expounding on his thoughts on literature and writing, the Nouveau Roman and the shift in modern literature would still have remained intangible to me.
In those 21 audio clips, Robbe-Grillet sounds fiercely anti-Balzacien but he justifies himself: Europe was demolished after World War 2, it had to be rebuilt again, therefore, the Europeans had the chance of starting afresh; in literature, this meant a rejection of the classical structure of the novel: plot, characters, environment, but most notably the certitude of the omnipresent narrator, and the truthfulness of the dialogue.
Robbe-Grillet -it felt to me- believed he had a mission to compile and push forward the efforts and works of the Nouveaux Romanciers into a school (ironically, a very structuralist endeavor from someone like him) that should have its legitimate place in Literature and Cinema. I don’t think the other Romanciers (Sarraute, Simon, Butor, Pinget) saw the Nouveau Roman as he did; at least Sarraute didn’t but it seemed they all agreed to step out of the dualist form/content of literature, to get rid of perspectives, therefore of characters, to neutralize psychology and to pay a closer attention to the relationship of time/space and to explore non-linear action (if one could label what happens in these books as action)
I anticipated that I would start Les Fruits d’Or once I would be done with those clips, and therefore, I classify the above as my planned literary fortification against what Nathalie Sarraute might throw at me. But there is another aspect of my literary education which I would like to dwell upon; it is not planned -indeed cannot be planned- but it’s an accumulation of experiences and knowledge and I believe other readers will identify with it.
The past 2-3 years have forged in me a somewhat global understanding of modern art, of modern literature, cinema and music. Indeed things have changed a lot, though one could choose to disregard this transformation and maintain an attachment to ancient words or lines or sounds packaged in 21st century form. Much of modern art still eludes me, but I am beginning to appreciate the possibility of experimentation and I feel that, gradually, I’m able to make some sense out of it.
One is struck by the immense change that gradually came over Western Art strolling in a museum from room to room and coming in contact with the shocking, the strange, the objects, the details, the vague, the eerie… The familiarity of human shapes and figures, of landscapes well-defined within a known time and space, the meaning in the painting -if only a recognizable beginning and end- are no longer available to us.
Bit by bit, I no longer rejected discontinuity in a work of art; indeed, if I myself no longer recognize a continuous stream of events in my life, I cannot ask for it from the artist.
I assume that this all started with the death of God which I do not qualify as blasphemous; instead, I consider it liberated imagination, triggered questions, and opened possibilities. It behooves the modern thinker to answer such inquiries in an absence of meaning/structure, though I wonder if one can do more than doubting, or focusing on the fleeting, or finding certainty in repetition – a repetition of events, a mirroring of faces – as if modernity dealt a blow to the linear progression of History as a whole and focused on the micro-event magnified to provide substance to the thinker.
I suppose out of all of this humor emerged; of a different form, no doubt. It’s the humor of the cynics, perhaps, but it’s humor. Liberated from God, independent of a linear progression of time, yet facing the certainty of a linear progression of time, and therefore age, the modern artist revels in the absurdity of the minutiae and dresses juxtaposition in a some comical robe: Kafka, Bunuel, Robbe-Grillet, Sarraute…
It is through the gate of modern humor that I decided to tackle Les Fruits d’Or. The first half of it is immensely funny. Because this is Sarraute writing, I don’t know when or where the dialogue is taking place and how many people are there in the book. At times it feels only 1 or 2, at times a gathering of invitees, and at others an infinity of generations…
Still, I assumed that this is a Parisian literary salon where invitees got together for some reason. Eminent among them are two art critics (maybe 3). Because I read it in French, I was able to spot (among the invitees) a man and a woman dialoguing in the opening pages: the woman was surprised at the indifference with which the man handed over a postal card of a Courbet painting of a dog’s head to his female companion, triggering a consternation on the face of the critic.
Because the woman found such an affront too harsh on the critic, she lends him a helping hand and asks him: “And, Les Fruits d’Or, how did you find it?”This last sentence is repeated infinitely throughout the book because [Sarraute's] Les Fruits d’Or is this question and the implications this question triggers.
The woman is surprised by the reply of the critic: “Les Fruits d’Or, I found it to be good”. This scenario which could have ended in the first two pages, is repeated in various shapes and forms many times, sometimes recounted in its entirety, at others, fragments of it are thrown in paragraphs where the fictitious Les Fruits d’Or is being defended or ridiculed.
In non-conventional, yet very humorous, dialogues and “actions”, we get a glimpse of the pretentious conformity that people in literary salons slip into in the presence of “eminent critics”.
Personally, this conformity wouldn’t have made much sense to me, had it not been for serendipity and Youtube. Recently, INA (Institut National de l’Audiovisuel) released its video archives on Youtube, and searching for Robbe-Grillet, I found an episode from a Bernard Pivot show. The invitee was Robbe-Grillet against a threesome of conventional critics and I found it to be a gem: the reaction of the critics and their derision against Robbe-Grillet’s book when Pivot gave a a brief synopsis of it to the guest, and asks him: “Did I get it right?” “And Robbe-Grillet replies: “Yes, this is one way of looking at it”.
Of course Sarraute could not have been referring to that, because the book came decades before that episode, but it clearly demonstrates the attacks Les Nouveaux Romanciers were enduring from critics who, apparently (and as Robbe-Grillet fiercely declares it in that show, “They have not even read Joyce or Kafka or Faulkner”) had no idea of what those writers were writing, and who refused to admit of writers who did not maintain the Balzacienne vein.
But back to the book. Within the frame of this affected elegy and praise, there comes a simple-minded reader who challenges the eminent critics and their backup choruses to demonstrate to this ignorant -book in hand- where the genius lies of the fictitious Les Fruits d’Or lies. This unfolds funny episodes where the critic attempts to elude the challenge by ruse rather than reason, such as when the critic makes use of his divine right to confer a literary quality to an otherwise banal work of art by announcing that it was done on purpose, with the express knowledge and planning of the writer.
The book could be read as both: in the first of half of it, it is an attack on the critics of classic literature, which Sarraute refers to as: “this well-built, properly-oiled, old machine, untouchable and well-preserved”. It is also a reflection on the collective hallucination that accompanies the release of a work of art by an established artist and the wave of synchronized chorus from laypeople and critics alike that uplifts that work to the level of glorious masterpieces.
Conscious of but disregarding the classical focus on content, the writing is one of the most charming in French literature. (And here I go, impersonating any character from Les Fruits d’Or – and I knew I would fall into that trap) She utilizes this classic French writing habit of successive adjectives or descriptive words to make fun of the classical critics themselves.
Sarraute -if I shouldn’t assume that she is intelligent – shows her support to Le Nouveau Roman – even if without adhering to it – through the posing of a very literary question towards the end of the book when the woman asks: “Le sujet… quelle importance? Simple pretexte.” [What is the importance of the subject? it's only a pretext]
This has always been the position of the Nouveaux Romanciers regarding content and subject, and they take this from Flaubert who considered that Madame Bovary without the writing, without the form, would not be Madame Bovary, or it would be anybody’s Madame Bovary.
The reviewed book joins this stream of thought. In this book where nothing happens, somehow 160 pages are filled on the premise that someone is surprised that another liked a particular book. It’s amazing when I think of it in retrospect. Indeed, the subject completely disappears to reveal the excessiveness of the writer’s imagination, another typical position adopted by the Nouveaux Romanciers. (The films of Robbe-Grillet and Bunuel, thought not an adherent of the Nouveau Roman, reflect this subordination of content to style)
I waited no less than 5 years to read this book -I think I added it to my Currently Reading list on Goodreads ever since I opened the account- and now I rank it among my favorite books of all time.
By chance, I stumbled upon Alain Robbe-Grillet’s Preface A Une Vie d’Ecrivain, freely available on ubu.com. I was vaguely familiar with Robbe-Grillet and his Nouveau Roman phenomenon but until I heard him defending himself and his Nouveau Roman and expounding on his thoughts on literature and writing, the Nouveau Roman and the shift in modern literature would still have remained intangible to me.
In those 21 audio clips, Robbe-Grillet sounds fiercely anti-Balzacien but he justifies himself: Europe was demolished after World War 2, it had to be rebuilt again, therefore, the Europeans had the chance of starting afresh; in literature, this meant a rejection of the classical structure of the novel: plot, characters, environment, but most notably the certitude of the omnipresent narrator, and the truthfulness of the dialogue.
Robbe-Grillet -it felt to me- believed he had a mission to compile and push forward the efforts and works of the Nouveaux Romanciers into a school (ironically, a very structuralist endeavor from someone like him) that should have its legitimate place in Literature and Cinema. I don’t think the other Romanciers (Sarraute, Simon, Butor, Pinget) saw the Nouveau Roman as he did; at least Sarraute didn’t but it seemed they all agreed to step out of the dualist form/content of literature, to get rid of perspectives, therefore of characters, to neutralize psychology and to pay a closer attention to the relationship of time/space and to explore non-linear action (if one could label what happens in these books as action)
I anticipated that I would start Les Fruits d’Or once I would be done with those clips, and therefore, I classify the above as my planned literary fortification against what Nathalie Sarraute might throw at me. But there is another aspect of my literary education which I would like to dwell upon; it is not planned -indeed cannot be planned- but it’s an accumulation of experiences and knowledge and I believe other readers will identify with it.
The past 2-3 years have forged in me a somewhat global understanding of modern art, of modern literature, cinema and music. Indeed things have changed a lot, though one could choose to disregard this transformation and maintain an attachment to ancient words or lines or sounds packaged in 21st century form. Much of modern art still eludes me, but I am beginning to appreciate the possibility of experimentation and I feel that, gradually, I’m able to make some sense out of it.
One is struck by the immense change that gradually came over Western Art strolling in a museum from room to room and coming in contact with the shocking, the strange, the objects, the details, the vague, the eerie… The familiarity of human shapes and figures, of landscapes well-defined within a known time and space, the meaning in the painting -if only a recognizable beginning and end- are no longer available to us.
Bit by bit, I no longer rejected discontinuity in a work of art; indeed, if I myself no longer recognize a continuous stream of events in my life, I cannot ask for it from the artist.
I assume that this all started with the death of God which I do not qualify as blasphemous; instead, I consider it liberated imagination, triggered questions, and opened possibilities. It behooves the modern thinker to answer such inquiries in an absence of meaning/structure, though I wonder if one can do more than doubting, or focusing on the fleeting, or finding certainty in repetition – a repetition of events, a mirroring of faces – as if modernity dealt a blow to the linear progression of History as a whole and focused on the micro-event magnified to provide substance to the thinker.
I suppose out of all of this humor emerged; of a different form, no doubt. It’s the humor of the cynics, perhaps, but it’s humor. Liberated from God, independent of a linear progression of time, yet facing the certainty of a linear progression of time, and therefore age, the modern artist revels in the absurdity of the minutiae and dresses juxtaposition in a some comical robe: Kafka, Bunuel, Robbe-Grillet, Sarraute…
It is through the gate of modern humor that I decided to tackle Les Fruits d’Or. The first half of it is immensely funny. Because this is Sarraute writing, I don’t know when or where the dialogue is taking place and how many people are there in the book. At times it feels only 1 or 2, at times a gathering of invitees, and at others an infinity of generations…
Still, I assumed that this is a Parisian literary salon where invitees got together for some reason. Eminent among them are two art critics (maybe 3). Because I read it in French, I was able to spot (among the invitees) a man and a woman dialoguing in the opening pages: the woman was surprised at the indifference with which the man handed over a postal card of a Courbet painting of a dog’s head to his female companion, triggering a consternation on the face of the critic.
Because the woman found such an affront too harsh on the critic, she lends him a helping hand and asks him: “And, Les Fruits d’Or, how did you find it?”This last sentence is repeated infinitely throughout the book because [Sarraute's] Les Fruits d’Or is this question and the implications this question triggers.
The woman is surprised by the reply of the critic: “Les Fruits d’Or, I found it to be good”. This scenario which could have ended in the first two pages, is repeated in various shapes and forms many times, sometimes recounted in its entirety, at others, fragments of it are thrown in paragraphs where the fictitious Les Fruits d’Or is being defended or ridiculed.
In non-conventional, yet very humorous, dialogues and “actions”, we get a glimpse of the pretentious conformity that people in literary salons slip into in the presence of “eminent critics”.
Personally, this conformity wouldn’t have made much sense to me, had it not been for serendipity and Youtube. Recently, INA (Institut National de l’Audiovisuel) released its video archives on Youtube, and searching for Robbe-Grillet, I found an episode from a Bernard Pivot show. The invitee was Robbe-Grillet against a threesome of conventional critics and I found it to be a gem: the reaction of the critics and their derision against Robbe-Grillet’s book when Pivot gave a a brief synopsis of it to the guest, and asks him: “Did I get it right?” “And Robbe-Grillet replies: “Yes, this is one way of looking at it”.
Of course Sarraute could not have been referring to that, because the book came decades before that episode, but it clearly demonstrates the attacks Les Nouveaux Romanciers were enduring from critics who, apparently (and as Robbe-Grillet fiercely declares it in that show, “They have not even read Joyce or Kafka or Faulkner”) had no idea of what those writers were writing, and who refused to admit of writers who did not maintain the Balzacienne vein.
But back to the book. Within the frame of this affected elegy and praise, there comes a simple-minded reader who challenges the eminent critics and their backup choruses to demonstrate to this ignorant -book in hand- where the genius lies of the fictitious Les Fruits d’Or lies. This unfolds funny episodes where the critic attempts to elude the challenge by ruse rather than reason, such as when the critic makes use of his divine right to confer a literary quality to an otherwise banal work of art by announcing that it was done on purpose, with the express knowledge and planning of the writer.
The book could be read as both: in the first of half of it, it is an attack on the critics of classic literature, which Sarraute refers to as: “this well-built, properly-oiled, old machine, untouchable and well-preserved”. It is also a reflection on the collective hallucination that accompanies the release of a work of art by an established artist and the wave of synchronized chorus from laypeople and critics alike that uplifts that work to the level of glorious masterpieces.
Conscious of but disregarding the classical focus on content, the writing is one of the most charming in French literature. (And here I go, impersonating any character from Les Fruits d’Or – and I knew I would fall into that trap) She utilizes this classic French writing habit of successive adjectives or descriptive words to make fun of the classical critics themselves.
Sarraute -if I shouldn’t assume that she is intelligent – shows her support to Le Nouveau Roman – even if without adhering to it – through the posing of a very literary question towards the end of the book when the woman asks: “Le sujet… quelle importance? Simple pretexte.” [What is the importance of the subject? it's only a pretext]
This has always been the position of the Nouveaux Romanciers regarding content and subject, and they take this from Flaubert who considered that Madame Bovary without the writing, without the form, would not be Madame Bovary, or it would be anybody’s Madame Bovary.
The reviewed book joins this stream of thought. In this book where nothing happens, somehow 160 pages are filled on the premise that someone is surprised that another liked a particular book. It’s amazing when I think of it in retrospect. Indeed, the subject completely disappears to reveal the excessiveness of the writer’s imagination, another typical position adopted by the Nouveaux Romanciers. (The films of Robbe-Grillet and Bunuel, thought not an adherent of the Nouveau Roman, reflect this subordination of content to style)
I waited no less than 5 years to read this book -I think I added it to my Currently Reading list on Goodreads ever since I opened the account- and now I rank it among my favorite books of all time.
January 4, 2018
Kim derdi ki burada bir romana verdiğim -kaçınılmaz- beş yıldız, aynı zamanda onunla ilgili vermek zorunda kaldığım çırılçıplak bir spoiler olacak :)
Saplantılı bir dil sevgisinin deneysel, yoğun, eğlenceli, bol vitaminli meyvesi. Geçmiş gelecek tüm okumalarınıza ve yorumlarınıza etki edecektir. Şanslıysanız, Fransız Yeni Roman ekolünün bu nadide eserine bir sahafta rastlama şansınız var. Sahaf candır :)
Saplantılı bir dil sevgisinin deneysel, yoğun, eğlenceli, bol vitaminli meyvesi. Geçmiş gelecek tüm okumalarınıza ve yorumlarınıza etki edecektir. Şanslıysanız, Fransız Yeni Roman ekolünün bu nadide eserine bir sahafta rastlama şansınız var. Sahaf candır :)
January 24, 2022
Altın Meyveler bugün birden karşıma çıktı kitaplıkta ve aldim okumaya başladım. Amacım rahat okunan bir kurgu romandı. Bu kitap da Fransız Yeni Roman türünün öncülerindenmis. Kitabın kahramanı bir roman. Bu romani tartisanlar, beğenenler, begenmeyenler, beğenmediğini saklayanlar. Kitap eleştirileri üzerine yer yer hicivle harmanlanan bir kitap. Herkesin seveceğini düşünmüyorum. Yazmayi, edebiyat eleştirisini ve farkli türde metinler arayanları tatmin edecek bir eser. Emeği geçen herkese teşekkür ederim.
January 16, 2025
Den här boken öppnade mina ögon till att litteraturvetare är världens jobbigaste människor❤️ tack Mme Sarraute jag kmr aldrig kunna diskutera en bok igen utan att höra hur dryg jag låter. Tycker lowkey att den hade kunnat vara en grym novell istället för en utmattande roman.
November 13, 2007
"Experimental" style but quite accessible. A progression of disembodied vignettes on the postures and ego battles that arise when responding to a work of art. Fine and comic emotional observations on snobbery, with fluctuating sympathies, a bit like Proust. Could have been a great comfort to me in college; reminded me vividly of "section." In that it refuses to separate the subjects of taste, snobbery, and artistic value, is saying something important.
January 6, 2025
"Admirable". Le mot est tombé... Une flèche... Elle a fendu l'air une dernière fois dans un sifflement aigu, avant de s'abattre sur le sol lourdement. Tous approchent... Plus un souffle... Personne n'ose le ramasser, par excès de prudence... Peut-être est-ce contagieux...
Et pourtant elle est bien là, intacte, parmi eux... Elle n'attend que ça... La main... L'épaule... N'importe quoi pour s'appuyer...
Alors enfin on tend les doigts... On la frôle... Sans assurance cependant... La méfiance n'est pas retombée... Ils ne comprennent pas... Qu'est-ce que c'était que ceci ?
Du sol s'élève une vapeur... Légère... Doucereuse... Quelqu'un s'est avancé... A caressé le pavé dans la mare... Après l'avoir retourné, soupesé, il le garde en main pour le montrer à tous. Fierté... Il expose son trophée... Tous plissent les yeux... Aveuglement... Embarras... Dernière rumeur...
"Voyez ! Ceci... Ceci est un roman admirable."
Et pourtant elle est bien là, intacte, parmi eux... Elle n'attend que ça... La main... L'épaule... N'importe quoi pour s'appuyer...
Alors enfin on tend les doigts... On la frôle... Sans assurance cependant... La méfiance n'est pas retombée... Ils ne comprennent pas... Qu'est-ce que c'était que ceci ?
Du sol s'élève une vapeur... Légère... Doucereuse... Quelqu'un s'est avancé... A caressé le pavé dans la mare... Après l'avoir retourné, soupesé, il le garde en main pour le montrer à tous. Fierté... Il expose son trophée... Tous plissent les yeux... Aveuglement... Embarras... Dernière rumeur...
"Voyez ! Ceci... Ceci est un roman admirable."
November 1, 2017
One could be forgiven if they mistook Sarraute's minor masterpiece as a fictionalized account of Goodreads. A book is spoken of by the 'right' person (who may or may not have read it), and suddenly the haut monde is falling over themselves to lavish increasingly over-the-top praise. But what happens when something becomes too popular for these, in Sarraute's words, "exhumers of dust?" Woe be the author whose intelli-tide has turned against him. A must read for us 'exhumers,' if only as a hubris-checker. Exceptional.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
July 13, 2023
Tartuin tähän koska Laura Lindstedt hehkutti Suurteokset kakkosessa. Ei ole sellainen kirja, jota ehkä kannattaa edes yrittää tiivistää someen... sellainen lukukokemus että mielessä tapahtui paljon, ja yritin ikäänkuin ymmärtää mitä luen ... Jonkin ajan päästä luovuin siitä ja vain olin tekstin kanssa... oli todella kiehtovaa, ja tällä ekalla lukukerralla jäi mieleen että mitä kaikkea voi ylipäätään lukemisesta tai taiteen kokemisesta ymmärtää, mitä voi kokea, mitä voi edes jakaa toisille ja mitä jakaa siksi että aidosti kokee niin ja mitä siksi että haluaa vaikuttaa omaavansa hyvän maun... Haastava ja kiehtova ja aivoja kivasti hierova lukukokemus, joka vaati jotain kummallista irtipäästämistä. Hieno!
Nathalie Sarraute: Kultaiset hedelmät (kääntäjät Pentti Holappa ja Olli-Matti Ronimus 1964, alkuteos 1963)
Nathalie Sarraute: Kultaiset hedelmät (kääntäjät Pentti Holappa ja Olli-Matti Ronimus 1964, alkuteos 1963)
April 23, 2016
A fictitious novel called "The Golden Fruits" is the toast of literary culture, collecting reviews from the most esteemed critics and becoming the book of the season everyone feels they must read. But slowly, a backlash develops and the novel undergoes a strange transformation, even from those who initially celebrated it. Sarraute seamlessly weaves together a chorus of voices - internal and external - of critics and readers who publicly and privately hold forth, opine, posture, and wrestle with their feelings about the worth of this novel.
Formally adventurous, perceptive, and still relevant, Sarraute's "Golden Fruits" should resonate for anyone who loves books and is curious about the many mechanisms that play a role in establishing literary reputation. As well as that infinitely more tricky maneuver, establishing actual artistic merit.
4.5 stars
Formally adventurous, perceptive, and still relevant, Sarraute's "Golden Fruits" should resonate for anyone who loves books and is curious about the many mechanisms that play a role in establishing literary reputation. As well as that infinitely more tricky maneuver, establishing actual artistic merit.
4.5 stars
December 1, 2024
Bản dịch tiếng Việt cực ấn tượng của Nguyễn Xuân Khánh mang tên Những Quả Vàng
January 11, 2025
The book had a nice flow when reading even though it was very fragmentary written. I feel like it is a book designed to be read more times than one to fully grasp all the interesting concepts.
Read
October 21, 2008This was my first venture into the nouveau roman, and found this dusty, out-of-print gem in my college library. I've got to say I was impressed. This very thorough dissection of a fictitious novel pulls off two feats: the first is an exploration of why we read, and the second is creating a novel without real characters or events, rotating around a book that we know next to nothing about. Then why is it worth reading? That's a question you'll ask yourself, but in the end it is worth reading, and you'll ask yourself after enjoying the shit out of it why you did.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
July 31, 2018
Well, shit, now I'm going to have to read her other stuff [Sighs defeatistly]
December 3, 2017
«Il y a ceux d'avant les Fruits d'Or et il y a ceux d'après.»
January 13, 2025
hyper ironique et cool et tout les bourgeois etc
(a lire en ville vers septembre ou mai si il fait beau ou bien dans la pièce d’à côté si vos parents reçoivent des amis par exemple)
(a lire en ville vers septembre ou mai si il fait beau ou bien dans la pièce d’à côté si vos parents reçoivent des amis par exemple)
August 11, 2023
Ranskalainen Nathalie Sarraute (1900–1999) opiskeli lakia ja kirjallisuutta Sorbonnessa, mutta kirjailijan ura voitti asianajajan uran – kenties Vichyn hallinnon vuoksi, sillä juutalaisena Sarraute ei voinut työskennellä juristina Vichyn Ranskassa. Sarraute oli kovin ihastunut aikansa nykykirjallisuuteen, kuten Marcel Proustiin ja Virginia Woolfiin.
Kirjallisuuden kentällä Sarraute asettuu nouveau roman -liikkeeseen eli osaksi 1950-luvun kokeellista kirjallisuutta. Vuonna 1963 ilmestynyt Kultaiset hedelmät on Sarrauten maineikkaimpia teoksia, sillä se voitti Prix international de littérature -palkinnon ja nosti siten Sarrautea suurempaan maineeseen. Nyt tämän 60 vuotta vanhan kirjan on nostanut suomalaisten kirjallisuudenystävien tietoisuuteen ja luettavaksi kirjastojen varastoista Laura Lindstedtin oivallinen essee Suurteokset 2 -kokoelmassa.
Suomessa nouveau roman -suuntauksen edustajiin lasketaan Wikipedian mukaan muun muassa Pentti Holappa ja Olli-Matti Ronimus, jotka asuivat 1960-luvun alkupuolella Pariisissa ja suomensivat uutta ranskalaista romaania. Kultaiset hedelmät ilmestyikin suomeksi jo 1964 Kirjayhtymän Arena-sarjan ensimmäisenä kirjana.
Koska Kultaiset hedelmät on uutta romaania, siltä ei kannata odottaa perinteisen romaanin rakenteita: siinä ei ole juonta tai henkilöhahmoja. Kultaiset hedelmät on metakirjallisuutta, joka kertoo kirjallisuudesta. Kirjan sivuilla kuljeskelet ikään kuin kuuntelemassa sivusta keskusteluja –katkelma sieltä, katkelma täältä, päästen välillä jonkun pään sisään kuulemaan ajatusten kulkua. Keskustelut ja ajatukset koskevat ”Kultaiset hedelmät”-teosta, uutta sensaatiota, josta kaikilla pitää olla mielipide ja näkemys. Kultaiset hedelmät kuvaakin tämän yleisen näkemyksen muotoutumista.
Kovin pitkä kirja Kultaiset hedelmät ole, mutta sivumääräänsä raskaampi kylläkin. Tajunnanvirtainen teksti on perinteiseen romaaniin verrattuna työläämpää luettavaa. Toisaalta Kultaiset hedelmät ei ole mikään tavattoman vaikea kirjakaan: on jokseenkin selvää, mistä tässä puhutaan ja tokihan kirjallisia keskusteluja käydään ja teoksia nostetaan kaapin päälle edelleenkin, joten konteksti on tuttu.
Ehkä kirjallisuudesta keskustellaan hieman vähemmän kuin 1960-luvulla, mutta näitä samoja keskustelujahan käydään toki muunkin median äärellä ja samat konsensuksen mekanismit sielläkin toimivat. Näitä mekanismeja Kultaiset hedelmät valaisee oivallisesti. Kannattaa siis noudatuttaa Kultaiset hedelmät paikallisen kirjaston varastosta ja suoda kiitos Lindstedtille kirjan nostamisesta takaisin lukijoiden mieliin.
Kirjallisuuden kentällä Sarraute asettuu nouveau roman -liikkeeseen eli osaksi 1950-luvun kokeellista kirjallisuutta. Vuonna 1963 ilmestynyt Kultaiset hedelmät on Sarrauten maineikkaimpia teoksia, sillä se voitti Prix international de littérature -palkinnon ja nosti siten Sarrautea suurempaan maineeseen. Nyt tämän 60 vuotta vanhan kirjan on nostanut suomalaisten kirjallisuudenystävien tietoisuuteen ja luettavaksi kirjastojen varastoista Laura Lindstedtin oivallinen essee Suurteokset 2 -kokoelmassa.
Suomessa nouveau roman -suuntauksen edustajiin lasketaan Wikipedian mukaan muun muassa Pentti Holappa ja Olli-Matti Ronimus, jotka asuivat 1960-luvun alkupuolella Pariisissa ja suomensivat uutta ranskalaista romaania. Kultaiset hedelmät ilmestyikin suomeksi jo 1964 Kirjayhtymän Arena-sarjan ensimmäisenä kirjana.
Huumoria… Raisua huumoria. Kolkkoa. Kolkkoa ja puhdasmielistä yhtä aikaa. Jonkinlaista viattomuutta. Kirkasta. Synkkää. Lävitsetunkevaa. Luottavaista. Hilpeää. Inhimillistä. Armotonta. Kuivaa. Nihkeää. Jäistä. Polttavaa. Hän vie minut epätodelliseen maailmaan. Se on unen aluetta. Sen todellisempaa maailmaa ei ole. Kultaiset hedelmät on kaikkea tätä.
Koska Kultaiset hedelmät on uutta romaania, siltä ei kannata odottaa perinteisen romaanin rakenteita: siinä ei ole juonta tai henkilöhahmoja. Kultaiset hedelmät on metakirjallisuutta, joka kertoo kirjallisuudesta. Kirjan sivuilla kuljeskelet ikään kuin kuuntelemassa sivusta keskusteluja –katkelma sieltä, katkelma täältä, päästen välillä jonkun pään sisään kuulemaan ajatusten kulkua. Keskustelut ja ajatukset koskevat ”Kultaiset hedelmät”-teosta, uutta sensaatiota, josta kaikilla pitää olla mielipide ja näkemys. Kultaiset hedelmät kuvaakin tämän yleisen näkemyksen muotoutumista.
On kahdenlaisia ihmisiä, toiset elivät ennen Kultaisia hedelmiä, toiset tulivat sen jälkeen.
Kovin pitkä kirja Kultaiset hedelmät ole, mutta sivumääräänsä raskaampi kylläkin. Tajunnanvirtainen teksti on perinteiseen romaaniin verrattuna työläämpää luettavaa. Toisaalta Kultaiset hedelmät ei ole mikään tavattoman vaikea kirjakaan: on jokseenkin selvää, mistä tässä puhutaan ja tokihan kirjallisia keskusteluja käydään ja teoksia nostetaan kaapin päälle edelleenkin, joten konteksti on tuttu.
Ehkä kirjallisuudesta keskustellaan hieman vähemmän kuin 1960-luvulla, mutta näitä samoja keskustelujahan käydään toki muunkin median äärellä ja samat konsensuksen mekanismit sielläkin toimivat. Näitä mekanismeja Kultaiset hedelmät valaisee oivallisesti. Kannattaa siis noudatuttaa Kultaiset hedelmät paikallisen kirjaston varastosta ja suoda kiitos Lindstedtille kirjan nostamisesta takaisin lukijoiden mieliin.
September 5, 2022
Given the form of this novel, a collection of people's feelings about a novel and how their social interactions and egos are delineated, interrupted, and put into question by sharing their feeling with each other about said novel, I'm a bit hesitant, here, to, well, put down my feelings about this novel.
My first impulse was to imitate, with my review, Sarraute's style, thus adding my own review as a kind of missing chapter. It would work as the novel everyone's discussing in The Golden Fruits is, you guessed it, a novel called The Golden Fruits. But even this kind of literary imitation as a kind of review is explored in a chapter of the novel itself, so I just couldn't go through with it. And, in the end, there's nothing I can really say here that the novel itself doesn't already say and also show how, at its worst, my opinion will be false, or, at best, a bit absurd given all of the other opinions out there and how and why I'm putting mine down here in order to interact with others who also have opinions, to either impress them or stupefy them or out-do-them or declare my individuality by going against them or, heaven forbid, my belonging by seconding them.
So, I guess what I liked most about The Golden fruits isn't how it evoked our need to review, that is to be passionate about works of art and novels, to love or to hate them, but how it inserted these views into a social context, laying bare how this impulse enters into the social arena and how much of a bonding or alienating thing it can be to have an opinion. How opinion gets immediately clouded by others' opinions and their opinions about our opinions and vice versa. It's an endless set of mirrors where we see ourselves multiplied and diminished into infinity.
Obviously the one thing missing in The Golden Fruits is, you guessed it again, The Golden Fruits. It's the opinions about a novel we can never read for ourselves in order to have an opinion. It's all very clever, and true, and made me resist wanting to have an opinion at all. But of course I do have an opinion. And I just put it out there for you to second or contradict, proving the novel's point entirely.
I feel used, but not bad about about being used at all.
My first impulse was to imitate, with my review, Sarraute's style, thus adding my own review as a kind of missing chapter. It would work as the novel everyone's discussing in The Golden Fruits is, you guessed it, a novel called The Golden Fruits. But even this kind of literary imitation as a kind of review is explored in a chapter of the novel itself, so I just couldn't go through with it. And, in the end, there's nothing I can really say here that the novel itself doesn't already say and also show how, at its worst, my opinion will be false, or, at best, a bit absurd given all of the other opinions out there and how and why I'm putting mine down here in order to interact with others who also have opinions, to either impress them or stupefy them or out-do-them or declare my individuality by going against them or, heaven forbid, my belonging by seconding them.
So, I guess what I liked most about The Golden fruits isn't how it evoked our need to review, that is to be passionate about works of art and novels, to love or to hate them, but how it inserted these views into a social context, laying bare how this impulse enters into the social arena and how much of a bonding or alienating thing it can be to have an opinion. How opinion gets immediately clouded by others' opinions and their opinions about our opinions and vice versa. It's an endless set of mirrors where we see ourselves multiplied and diminished into infinity.
Obviously the one thing missing in The Golden Fruits is, you guessed it again, The Golden Fruits. It's the opinions about a novel we can never read for ourselves in order to have an opinion. It's all very clever, and true, and made me resist wanting to have an opinion at all. But of course I do have an opinion. And I just put it out there for you to second or contradict, proving the novel's point entirely.
I feel used, but not bad about about being used at all.
March 16, 2025
La historia de mi búsqueda de "Les fruits d'or" es harto curiosa. Lo vi, al final del año pasado, en la librería de viejo a la que suelo acudir: tuuulibreria. Era un ejemplar, en francés, de 1969, (el libro se editó en 1963), con una colorista portada. Me llamó la atención poderosamente pero, claro, yo no sé francés; no obstante, adquirí el volumen. Intenté encontrar el libro en español en algún lado. En Madrid solo lo tenían en la biblioteca de Ciempozuelos.
En Navidad, fui a Tenerife y hete aquí que allí tenían un raro ejemplar de la edición española de Seix Barral de 1965. Lo pillé, pero no me lo pude acabar por razones obvias. Al volver al Madrid, no tuve más remedio que acudir a la biblioteca de Ciempozuelos, una noche de tormenta, a conseguir el libro.
"Les fruits d'or", de Nathalie Sarraute, es una novela experimental donde no hay personajes ni situaciones. Todo se basa en las opiniones que diversas personas tienen de un libro llamado "Les fruits d'or". Así, esas opiniones van construyendo la novela y los propios personajes y situaciones van a verse transfigurados por sus palabras.
Es una novela curiosa y original, a la que hay que estar muy atento, pues, estas conversaciones entre las diferentes personas que han leído el libro, están escritas de la manera atropellada en la que solemos hablar. "Les fruits d'or" es recomendable... si estás tan loca como para ir a Ciempozuelos a por él.
En Navidad, fui a Tenerife y hete aquí que allí tenían un raro ejemplar de la edición española de Seix Barral de 1965. Lo pillé, pero no me lo pude acabar por razones obvias. Al volver al Madrid, no tuve más remedio que acudir a la biblioteca de Ciempozuelos, una noche de tormenta, a conseguir el libro.
"Les fruits d'or", de Nathalie Sarraute, es una novela experimental donde no hay personajes ni situaciones. Todo se basa en las opiniones que diversas personas tienen de un libro llamado "Les fruits d'or". Así, esas opiniones van construyendo la novela y los propios personajes y situaciones van a verse transfigurados por sus palabras.
Es una novela curiosa y original, a la que hay que estar muy atento, pues, estas conversaciones entre las diferentes personas que han leído el libro, están escritas de la manera atropellada en la que solemos hablar. "Les fruits d'or" es recomendable... si estás tan loca como para ir a Ciempozuelos a por él.
January 23, 2018
Kritiikin kritiikkiä, jonka lukeminen tuntui paikoin raskaalta ja itseään toistavalta, mutta joka onnistuu esittämään loistavia ajatuksia ja kysymyksiä koskien mm. teosten arvottamisen perusteita. Uskoisinkin palaavani tämän teoksen äärelle vielä tulevaisuudessa. Syystä tai toisesta huomasin myös huvittuvani tekstistä tuon tuosta. Voisin kuvitella Kultaisten hedelmien lukemisen voimauttavaksi kelle tahansa jonka tekeleet ovat joskus saaneet kritiikkiä osakseen.
Read
September 5, 2024no idea wtf was happening
Read
November 3, 2024l’écriture était sublime mais j’ai rien compris
Read
December 5, 2020DNF
Ok je pense que ce livre est certainement plus intéressant à étudier, qu'à lire pour le plaisir... Le nouveau roman ce n'est pas toujours ma tasse de thé... J'abandonne pour cette fois !
Ok je pense que ce livre est certainement plus intéressant à étudier, qu'à lire pour le plaisir... Le nouveau roman ce n'est pas toujours ma tasse de thé... J'abandonne pour cette fois !
August 4, 2022
не знаю такой ли ее задумали, но мне эта книга показалась смешной, хоть и немного слишком вычурной
July 11, 2025
old language book! very deep and philosophical, loved it, how you can just turn someone's mind and opinion.
January 13, 2024
Kommer nog inte läsa ut (kom typ halvvägs iaf!)… helt obegriplig och så tråkig! En kursbok beskrev sarraute som en fortsättning på virginia woolfs författarskap - vilken hädelse mot the queen herself!! Läste den åtminstone som e-bok så bidrog inte till slöseri av papper
June 13, 2013
When I started reading Les Fruits D'Or I was self-conscious, nervous, tense. The introduction dubbed it as a modern classic, a book that, if read in the right way, would be very profound. This made me worried. Would I be one of them, the ones reading the book the way it should be read? I feared that when closing it, I would have placed myself amongst The Others, those without taste, the uncultured and ignorant, those who will never get it.
Entering Les Fruits D'Or in this way definitely made a big impression on me. Even though it was written in '63, it still feels interestingly relevant. I guess the theme is timeless and universal. It touches on a cultural anxiety, a fear based on who is good enough, and who isn't. Sarraute manages to hit just the right notes to illustrate this disquiet. For me it was quite an experience, reading about just the thing I was feeling myself, being thrown between different streams of consciousness which I sometimes identified as my own. This sort of second dimension to the book grew stronger the further I read. I read about a game I myself was in the midst of playing. At the instant I accept that there is a right and a wrong way to read Les Fruits D'Or, that there is a hierarchy of experiences, I also accepted the anxiety Sarraute is writing about. It is a game of high horses, impressive but primitive, and I'm playing it.
The way in which the author writes craves the absolute attention of the reader. I found myself rereading the same passages numerous times, noticing how a couple of seconds of inattention would cause me to completely lose track of Sarraute's line of thought. There is no clearly pronounced characters, no true storyline to speak of. The perspectives can shift at any time, and a minute of day dreaming would cost me another minute of tracing back to where I lost myself. Les Fruits D'Or doesn't really make for light reading. Even though I got used to the style about halfway through the book, the reader needs to put in work to get anything out of it.
I have to add that even though the words used aren't spectacular in themselves, the way Sarraute uses them is absolutely beautiful. The parables are many and radiant. There is an interesting passage where a character describes culture, and literature in particular, as a holy room, a temple, sealed shut. A room where only a selected few may enter, and only after many years of patient study. The book is ripe with questions, or rather it urges the reader to ask them, and possibly the best part, is how none of those questions are answered. We take them with us when finishing the last page, when we move on to the next book, when we talk about literature. This is what turned Les Fruits D'Or from a good to a great book to me.
I liked Les Fruits D'Or. And I'll probably never know on which side of the game this places me.
Entering Les Fruits D'Or in this way definitely made a big impression on me. Even though it was written in '63, it still feels interestingly relevant. I guess the theme is timeless and universal. It touches on a cultural anxiety, a fear based on who is good enough, and who isn't. Sarraute manages to hit just the right notes to illustrate this disquiet. For me it was quite an experience, reading about just the thing I was feeling myself, being thrown between different streams of consciousness which I sometimes identified as my own. This sort of second dimension to the book grew stronger the further I read. I read about a game I myself was in the midst of playing. At the instant I accept that there is a right and a wrong way to read Les Fruits D'Or, that there is a hierarchy of experiences, I also accepted the anxiety Sarraute is writing about. It is a game of high horses, impressive but primitive, and I'm playing it.
The way in which the author writes craves the absolute attention of the reader. I found myself rereading the same passages numerous times, noticing how a couple of seconds of inattention would cause me to completely lose track of Sarraute's line of thought. There is no clearly pronounced characters, no true storyline to speak of. The perspectives can shift at any time, and a minute of day dreaming would cost me another minute of tracing back to where I lost myself. Les Fruits D'Or doesn't really make for light reading. Even though I got used to the style about halfway through the book, the reader needs to put in work to get anything out of it.
I have to add that even though the words used aren't spectacular in themselves, the way Sarraute uses them is absolutely beautiful. The parables are many and radiant. There is an interesting passage where a character describes culture, and literature in particular, as a holy room, a temple, sealed shut. A room where only a selected few may enter, and only after many years of patient study. The book is ripe with questions, or rather it urges the reader to ask them, and possibly the best part, is how none of those questions are answered. We take them with us when finishing the last page, when we move on to the next book, when we talk about literature. This is what turned Les Fruits D'Or from a good to a great book to me.
I liked Les Fruits D'Or. And I'll probably never know on which side of the game this places me.
February 17, 2015
Tämä on kirja kirjasta, ja etenkin siitä, kuinka kirjan arvostaminen syntyy ja laantuu korkeakulttuurisissa piireissä. teos herättää todella ajattelemaan sitä, mitä arvostamme romaanissa, kuka teoksen arvon määrittelee,ja millä perusteilla. Suositelisin lukemaan tämän yhdeltä istumalta, jolloin romaanin elinkaareen pääsee parhaiten uppoutumaan.
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