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Brisbane
“This novel – which is ostensibly about music – digs deep into the role the Ukrainian and Russian languages play in people’s lives and through language manifests the visceral connection between these sibling cultures.” —Marian Schwartz
From the author of the international bestseller, Laurus, comes a richly layered, universal coming-of-age story in which a musical prodigy robbed of his talent by an incurable disease attempts to overcome his mortality. Through well-wrought vignettes and dialogue in the original Ukrainian, Vodolazkin shows us the ways in which these identities are inextricably linked and expressed through the push and pull of loyalties big and small.
After Gleb Yanovsky, a celebrated guitarist, is diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease at age fifty, he permits a writer, Sergei Nesterov, to pen his biography. For years, they meet regularly as Gleb recounts the life he’s lived thus far: a difficult childhood in Kyiv, his formative musical studies in St. Petersburg, and his later years in Munich, where he lives with his wife and meets a thirteen-year-old virtuoso whom he embraces as his own daughter. In a mischievous and tender account, Gleb recalls a personal story of a lifetime quest for meaning, and how the burden of success changes with age.
Expanding the literary universe spun in his earlier novels, Vodolazkin explores music and fame, heritage and belonging, time and memory. In a dueling interplay between Gleb’s first-person recollections and Nesterov’s interpretation, the carefully knit stitches unravel into a puzzle: Whose story is it – the subject’s or the writer’s? Are art and love really no match for death? Is memory a reliable narrator? In Brisbane, the city of our dreams, as in music, Gleb hopes he’s found a path to eternity – and a way to stop the clock.
From the author of the international bestseller, Laurus, comes a richly layered, universal coming-of-age story in which a musical prodigy robbed of his talent by an incurable disease attempts to overcome his mortality. Through well-wrought vignettes and dialogue in the original Ukrainian, Vodolazkin shows us the ways in which these identities are inextricably linked and expressed through the push and pull of loyalties big and small.
After Gleb Yanovsky, a celebrated guitarist, is diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease at age fifty, he permits a writer, Sergei Nesterov, to pen his biography. For years, they meet regularly as Gleb recounts the life he’s lived thus far: a difficult childhood in Kyiv, his formative musical studies in St. Petersburg, and his later years in Munich, where he lives with his wife and meets a thirteen-year-old virtuoso whom he embraces as his own daughter. In a mischievous and tender account, Gleb recalls a personal story of a lifetime quest for meaning, and how the burden of success changes with age.
Expanding the literary universe spun in his earlier novels, Vodolazkin explores music and fame, heritage and belonging, time and memory. In a dueling interplay between Gleb’s first-person recollections and Nesterov’s interpretation, the carefully knit stitches unravel into a puzzle: Whose story is it – the subject’s or the writer’s? Are art and love really no match for death? Is memory a reliable narrator? In Brisbane, the city of our dreams, as in music, Gleb hopes he’s found a path to eternity – and a way to stop the clock.
370 pages, Paperback
First published December 1, 2018
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2929 people want to read
About the author
Eugene Vodolazkin
22 books470 followersAlternate spellings: Evgenij Vodolazkin, Evgheni Vodolazkin, Jevgenij Vodolazkin
Eugene Vodolazkin is a Russian scholar and author. He has worked at Russian Academy of Sciences and been awarded fellowships from the Toepfer Foundation and Alexander von Humboldt Foundation. He has written for First Things. He lives with his family in St. Petersburg.
Eugene Vodolazkin is a Russian scholar and author. He has worked at Russian Academy of Sciences and been awarded fellowships from the Toepfer Foundation and Alexander von Humboldt Foundation. He has written for First Things. He lives with his family in St. Petersburg.
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April 10, 2024
بریزبن کتابی ایست از یوگنی وادالازکین ، نویسنده روسی که کتاب هوانورد با ترجمه زینب یونسی پیشتر از او به فارسی ترجمه شده . عنوانی که او برای کتاب در انتخاب کرده یعنی، بریزبن که شهری در استرالیا است ، هیچ ربطی به داستان وادالازکین و جغرافیای آن ندارد . بریزبن تجسم آرمانشهر شخصیت اصلی رمان است، جایی که او به دنبال یافتن خوشبختی و شادی در آنجاست
بریزبن در دو مقطع زمانی روایت میشود: دوران حکومت شوروی در کیف و سن پترزبورگ (1970 تا 1990) و سالهای 2012 تا 2018 در پترزبورگ و مونیخ . داستان حول محور زندگی گلب یانفسکی، نوازنده پیانوی با استعدادی میچرخد که به دلیل بیماری مجبور به ترک موسیقی میشود. نویسنده با فلش بک های فراوان ، دوران کودکی تا جوانی و ازدواج گلب را بیان کرده و تلاش دارد تا خواننده ر ا با زندگی در شوروی کمونیستی آشنا کند . بخش دیگر داستان ، زمانی ایست که گلب یک نوازنده سرشناس شده و با شنیدن خبر بیماری ، باید خود را برای زندگی از نوع دیگر آماده کند . شاید بتوان هدف نویسنده را از سفر در زمان ، سفری در جست و جوی هویت ، خوشبختی و معنای زندگی دانست و از آن جا که وادالازکین خود موسیقی خوانده ، در تمامی این سفرها ، اصطلاحات و جزئیات موسیقی را هم همراه داستان خود کرده است .
نویسنده گرچه تصویری از روسیه در دورانهای مختلف ارائه داده و تلاش کرده تا خواننده را با فرهنگ و آداب و رسوم این کشور آشنا کند ، اما کتاب او را نمی توان اثری سیاسی در ستایش یا نکوهش کمونیسم و یا رژیم پس از آن دانست . وادالازکین هم چنین به گونه ای سطحی به کودتا سال 1991علیه گورباچف پرداخته ، اما اشاره او به این حادثه بزرگ ، به قدری کوتاه و سرسری بوده که حذف آن از داستان هم ، لطمه ای به آن وارد نمی کند .
بریزبن که تا اواخر ، اثری کاملا معمولی ایست در پایان کتاب همان ریتم کند و معمولی خود را هم از دست می دهد ، وادالازکین داستان های فرعی را که در اوایل و اواسط کتاب ، دست کم قابل تحمل بودند ، به شکلی کاملا قابل پیش بینی و سطحی به پایان رسانده ، گویی که هدف او از اضافه کردن آنها تنها رقیق کردن احساسات خواننده بوده است .
در پایان بریزبن را می توان رمانی دانست که ایدههای جذاب و شخصیتهای جالبی دارد، اما در نهایت به دلیل ضعف در اجرا، از رسیدن به پتانسیل کامل خود باز مانده است .
بریزبن در دو مقطع زمانی روایت میشود: دوران حکومت شوروی در کیف و سن پترزبورگ (1970 تا 1990) و سالهای 2012 تا 2018 در پترزبورگ و مونیخ . داستان حول محور زندگی گلب یانفسکی، نوازنده پیانوی با استعدادی میچرخد که به دلیل بیماری مجبور به ترک موسیقی میشود. نویسنده با فلش بک های فراوان ، دوران کودکی تا جوانی و ازدواج گلب را بیان کرده و تلاش دارد تا خواننده ر ا با زندگی در شوروی کمونیستی آشنا کند . بخش دیگر داستان ، زمانی ایست که گلب یک نوازنده سرشناس شده و با شنیدن خبر بیماری ، باید خود را برای زندگی از نوع دیگر آماده کند . شاید بتوان هدف نویسنده را از سفر در زمان ، سفری در جست و جوی هویت ، خوشبختی و معنای زندگی دانست و از آن جا که وادالازکین خود موسیقی خوانده ، در تمامی این سفرها ، اصطلاحات و جزئیات موسیقی را هم همراه داستان خود کرده است .
نویسنده گرچه تصویری از روسیه در دورانهای مختلف ارائه داده و تلاش کرده تا خواننده را با فرهنگ و آداب و رسوم این کشور آشنا کند ، اما کتاب او را نمی توان اثری سیاسی در ستایش یا نکوهش کمونیسم و یا رژیم پس از آن دانست . وادالازکین هم چنین به گونه ای سطحی به کودتا سال 1991علیه گورباچف پرداخته ، اما اشاره او به این حادثه بزرگ ، به قدری کوتاه و سرسری بوده که حذف آن از داستان هم ، لطمه ای به آن وارد نمی کند .
بریزبن که تا اواخر ، اثری کاملا معمولی ایست در پایان کتاب همان ریتم کند و معمولی خود را هم از دست می دهد ، وادالازکین داستان های فرعی را که در اوایل و اواسط کتاب ، دست کم قابل تحمل بودند ، به شکلی کاملا قابل پیش بینی و سطحی به پایان رسانده ، گویی که هدف او از اضافه کردن آنها تنها رقیق کردن احساسات خواننده بوده است .
در پایان بریزبن را می توان رمانی دانست که ایدههای جذاب و شخصیتهای جالبی دارد، اما در نهایت به دلیل ضعف در اجرا، از رسیدن به پتانسیل کامل خود باز مانده است .
February 11, 2022
So, my newest virtual bookish friend would be today 56 years old. This is Mr Gleb Ianovski, half Ukrainian, and half Russian. As a matter of fact, his birthday was on 17th April, one week ago, and this year fell on the Good Friday, on the Orthodox style of course. It was a special day for him, and I am certain for the others who celebrated it. I was already in the middle of the book and this information was not yet known to me. I was eager to find out this important detail. Why? Why, to make some sense of what I am reading about. I felt it is something with a key that needs to be found to unlock the mystery. Anyway, it took me reading more than half of this newest novel of Evgheni Vodolazkin to find out the main character’s age, and fortunately, his birthday too. Well, he proves to be an earnest sort of Aries. A strong character, stubborn and prone to achieve plenty of success through his hard word, dedication and firm will put in good use.
So, on 17.04.2014, Gleb Ianosvki turns 50. He celebrates his birthday at home, in a very small intimate circle, in Petersburg. There is only his wife Katia, a girl Vera, the daughter of his first girl-friend from his youth, and a couple, he a writer, Nestor, who started writing the biography of Gleb, and she, Nika, the wife of the writer. The cozy party is a prelude for a grand concert that Gleb and Vera will attend together, he already as an internationally famous singer and playing the guitar, whilst Vera playing the piano. There is also a big tension and grey dark clouds that overcast the coming event. Gleb discovered two years before that he is suffering from Parkinson, while Vera is also suffering from a terrible illness, which puts her health in great danger if a liver transplant is not done in short term period. Nonetheless, they are both desperately in love with music. They have an inborn talent for playing music, both of them in a special unique way, which brings them acknowledgment from the public. Now they gather their forces, as feeble and uncertain as they were due to the on-going deterioration of their health, to sustain this concert together, composed by a certain selection of plays and songs. It was of course a grand success. But then, this puts Vera in a chronic stage with her illness, following the effort, and she is taken soon to the hospital. A donator appeared – by accident, in all senses, and the surgery for the liver transplant begins. Unfortunately, there is no happy end. Her heart cannot cope and despite couple of hours of resuscitation, Vera leaves her body. Gleb and Katia are devastated by the pain hearing the doctor’s news. So, she left too. Where? To Brisbane! The same place, where Gleb’s mother, Irina, wanted for so many years to go to. Why Brisbane? Because Brisbane is in Australia, on the Brisbane river? Yes. No. In Brisbane there is always sunshine. There is a cloudless sky. There is a place where people fulfill their dreams. There is happiness. There is joyful life there.
What I liked about this novel? That is to say besides the author’s name. Well, EVERYTHING! Truly so, nothing to displease me. I have found it deeply moving, sensible, far too profound for its very simplistic, direct style of writing. The narrative plane is split between two voices: the one that revisits the childhood, youth and adult years of Gleb, and one of the main character himself telling us about the present days, something like a diary/memoir, counting the most important events in his life, from the moment he learned his body is changing due to Parkinson disease.
Gleb fears death. He feared death first time when he was still in his childhood. One day he suddenly discovered that he shall die, too. Why? Because he saw a young woman that committed suicide by drowning, while he was on the beach enjoying a day of vacation. He saw her before the fatal moment, a beautiful girl who seemed to be happy, at least from the point of view of external appearances, and then, in a short while, she is being taken out from the water, but nothing could help to bring her back to her life signals. He is shocked, and decided not to go to school anymore, but just sit at home, doing nothing, mostly sleeping. Eventually, his grandfather who comes to visit him one day, helps him understand that there is nothing like death. There is nothing like time. Everything is submitted to timelessness, to deathlessness, everything lives eternally. Gleb trusts his grandfather. He understands that he must live his life, and give to the world the gifts he was endowed with.
The novel abounds in a lyrical, poetical universe. There are so many beautiful phrases and reflections about death, love, happiness, communion, being of service to others, about the meaning of life. There are also many parts that cover the importance of how to cope with illness, and, most importantly, never let yourself be consumed by despair and depression. There is always something worse, isn’t it? There is death, there is old age – they seem natural, coming by the nature of things. But an illness, is it a natural thing too? Some say, it’s a mood or state of the respective person. And if it is there, then we shouldn’t view it as something external of the body, it should be considered as part of ourselves. And then you can still cope with life, and enjoy yourself, without falling into an irrevocable state of utter despair, grief or hopelessness.
The novel is trying to teach the reader about the music, the role it plays in human life. I wish I was more trained in the music language. I am a complete failure. I seem not to understand the notes, the nuances, the tones, the shades of it. There must be something missing from my internal mechanism, otherwise I cannot explain it. For someone deeply acknowledged with music, this novel must be very dear, as it can put a spell on you. I have to be satisfied with the mental satisfaction, as long as I cannot memorize the musical meaning.
Reading the novel, I have this impression that the feeling of a boundless happiness is flying through the window, but I am afraid that I will not be able to explain it in words. I'm silent. It seems to me that I hear music and that it can express this. As they say in music: in the minor, two quarters: happiness comes from the understanding that you have before you all your life, and, as I understand now, from the lack of a representation of death.
So, on 17.04.2014, Gleb Ianosvki turns 50. He celebrates his birthday at home, in a very small intimate circle, in Petersburg. There is only his wife Katia, a girl Vera, the daughter of his first girl-friend from his youth, and a couple, he a writer, Nestor, who started writing the biography of Gleb, and she, Nika, the wife of the writer. The cozy party is a prelude for a grand concert that Gleb and Vera will attend together, he already as an internationally famous singer and playing the guitar, whilst Vera playing the piano. There is also a big tension and grey dark clouds that overcast the coming event. Gleb discovered two years before that he is suffering from Parkinson, while Vera is also suffering from a terrible illness, which puts her health in great danger if a liver transplant is not done in short term period. Nonetheless, they are both desperately in love with music. They have an inborn talent for playing music, both of them in a special unique way, which brings them acknowledgment from the public. Now they gather their forces, as feeble and uncertain as they were due to the on-going deterioration of their health, to sustain this concert together, composed by a certain selection of plays and songs. It was of course a grand success. But then, this puts Vera in a chronic stage with her illness, following the effort, and she is taken soon to the hospital. A donator appeared – by accident, in all senses, and the surgery for the liver transplant begins. Unfortunately, there is no happy end. Her heart cannot cope and despite couple of hours of resuscitation, Vera leaves her body. Gleb and Katia are devastated by the pain hearing the doctor’s news. So, she left too. Where? To Brisbane! The same place, where Gleb’s mother, Irina, wanted for so many years to go to. Why Brisbane? Because Brisbane is in Australia, on the Brisbane river? Yes. No. In Brisbane there is always sunshine. There is a cloudless sky. There is a place where people fulfill their dreams. There is happiness. There is joyful life there.
What I liked about this novel? That is to say besides the author’s name. Well, EVERYTHING! Truly so, nothing to displease me. I have found it deeply moving, sensible, far too profound for its very simplistic, direct style of writing. The narrative plane is split between two voices: the one that revisits the childhood, youth and adult years of Gleb, and one of the main character himself telling us about the present days, something like a diary/memoir, counting the most important events in his life, from the moment he learned his body is changing due to Parkinson disease.
Gleb fears death. He feared death first time when he was still in his childhood. One day he suddenly discovered that he shall die, too. Why? Because he saw a young woman that committed suicide by drowning, while he was on the beach enjoying a day of vacation. He saw her before the fatal moment, a beautiful girl who seemed to be happy, at least from the point of view of external appearances, and then, in a short while, she is being taken out from the water, but nothing could help to bring her back to her life signals. He is shocked, and decided not to go to school anymore, but just sit at home, doing nothing, mostly sleeping. Eventually, his grandfather who comes to visit him one day, helps him understand that there is nothing like death. There is nothing like time. Everything is submitted to timelessness, to deathlessness, everything lives eternally. Gleb trusts his grandfather. He understands that he must live his life, and give to the world the gifts he was endowed with.
The novel abounds in a lyrical, poetical universe. There are so many beautiful phrases and reflections about death, love, happiness, communion, being of service to others, about the meaning of life. There are also many parts that cover the importance of how to cope with illness, and, most importantly, never let yourself be consumed by despair and depression. There is always something worse, isn’t it? There is death, there is old age – they seem natural, coming by the nature of things. But an illness, is it a natural thing too? Some say, it’s a mood or state of the respective person. And if it is there, then we shouldn’t view it as something external of the body, it should be considered as part of ourselves. And then you can still cope with life, and enjoy yourself, without falling into an irrevocable state of utter despair, grief or hopelessness.
The novel is trying to teach the reader about the music, the role it plays in human life. I wish I was more trained in the music language. I am a complete failure. I seem not to understand the notes, the nuances, the tones, the shades of it. There must be something missing from my internal mechanism, otherwise I cannot explain it. For someone deeply acknowledged with music, this novel must be very dear, as it can put a spell on you. I have to be satisfied with the mental satisfaction, as long as I cannot memorize the musical meaning.
Reading the novel, I have this impression that the feeling of a boundless happiness is flying through the window, but I am afraid that I will not be able to explain it in words. I'm silent. It seems to me that I hear music and that it can express this. As they say in music: in the minor, two quarters: happiness comes from the understanding that you have before you all your life, and, as I understand now, from the lack of a representation of death.
April 3, 2024
I RECEIVED A DRC FROM THE PUBLISHER VIA EDELWEISS+. THANK YOU.
My Review: A guitarist with Parkinson's. A son without parental care...with a grandmother's undivided devotion. A half-Ukrainian, half-Russian child caught in between identities, whose life's course was taken *despite* not because it mirrored his father's...and he exceeds the father who didn't believe he was suited for the life of a musician.
Plough Publishing House (link) is a christian-focused organization whose primary focus is on the *good* that religion can do...the support for the unsupported, the care for the abandoned, and justice for the victims, that defined the main character's entire identity in the badly plotted, overwritten fantasy novel they build their philosophy on.
What? You thought I wouldn't insult religious nuts for their delusional identity basis? More fool you.
That said, this Ukrainian-Russian story of the pain associated with finding, building, losing, and loving an identity is an excellent example of what this publishing enterprise does best: Bring us the best there is of what there is that aligns with their worldview. This allows all of us to find the places we can stand together, to be in solidarity with even those who aren't like us and might not even like us.
But Gleb, whose story we're being told, is in the hands of a storyteller: A writer called Sergei whose work in writing Gleb's story of average beginnings and a rocket-ride to success and stardom comes just as the trajectory enters its terminal velocity. As must happen to us all, Gleb's facing mortality and the sad end of productive life. What he does, in chronicling his life with Sergei's help, surnamed "Nestorov" or "of Nestor's line" which gave me quite the chuckle), is bridge the ever-widening gap between the past's ghostly and fantasy-based "unity" and the present's angry animosity. Gleb's life, his struggle to win through to a meaningful use of his passion and his loneliness in abandonment by his Russian mother and his obsessive, judgmental Ukrainian father, is Ukraine's story. It seems to Gleb that he loses his life to no end, to no result...then he orients himself towards a future of hopeful and fruitful action in mentoring a young, lost, rejected soul. Pay it forward.
If you've read Author Vodolazkin's award-winning book [Laurus] (the genus of evergreen trees called "Laurels" and used, as your history brain will remind you, as victory-wreath material), the themes of christian redemption through works and the need to seek a purpose to make life into A Life won't be unfamiliar. Where that book was a medieval fantasy, and one of rare and joyous elegance and compassion, this is a modern and more basic, more brutal in a sense, version of the story. Death plays its part in the proceedings but it is the death that you and I, Westerners and rationalists, know; in Laurus, Death like all other supernatural forces is embodied, personified. Our names for him have changed (eg "Parkinson's disease") but his dark, demanding, denying power have not.
It is in the face of Death that some people find their only moments of clarity. Gleb isn't exactly one of them, he's organzied his life around music and willed into being a life centered on making music count. But he hasn't, until he meets Sergei Nestorov, put his lived experience into an ordered, planned, meant-to-be-shared form. This is a major act of grace. He's done something so selfless in this examination of the pain of being not enough, discovering he can make others experience joy, then losing it all.
It can't escape your attention in either of these passages that the child isn't centered. It won't surprise you to learn that neither parent was There for their son. It can't escape your notice that, in that case, a child is left to his own devices, no matter the other sources of support he discovers over his life, to define what love and care are.
It won't shock you then to learn that Gleb married music, and focused on becoming a star when the Universe presented him with the possibility. And now...ending that life and without another prepared for himself...now he gifts all that he's learned to a writer who will tell of his lifelong struggle to be whole when his antecedents left him to figure out for himself what that would mean, what that would look like.
Much the way Ukraine is experiencing its national-identity crisis in a cruel war with its cold, needy, selfish mother who abandoned it when it was in need. Time after time after time.
Gleb forgives, accepts, and gives his all to the future, to the child he mentors, the child challenged to remain alive...does she have his luck, does she have his singleness of purpose to make music and make Life give him more music to make?
And Nestor(ov) does what he must do, he brings the legend to life by writing a life of the legend. I hope you'll read Vodolazkin's work. It is beautifully translated, with none of the stiltedness of transferring meaning from one tongue to another; Translator Schwartz started from a high mountain, it's true, but she also blazed her trail there with surefooted grace.
My Review: A guitarist with Parkinson's. A son without parental care...with a grandmother's undivided devotion. A half-Ukrainian, half-Russian child caught in between identities, whose life's course was taken *despite* not because it mirrored his father's...and he exceeds the father who didn't believe he was suited for the life of a musician.
Plough Publishing House (link) is a christian-focused organization whose primary focus is on the *good* that religion can do...the support for the unsupported, the care for the abandoned, and justice for the victims, that defined the main character's entire identity in the badly plotted, overwritten fantasy novel they build their philosophy on.
What? You thought I wouldn't insult religious nuts for their delusional identity basis? More fool you.
That said, this Ukrainian-Russian story of the pain associated with finding, building, losing, and loving an identity is an excellent example of what this publishing enterprise does best: Bring us the best there is of what there is that aligns with their worldview. This allows all of us to find the places we can stand together, to be in solidarity with even those who aren't like us and might not even like us.
But Gleb, whose story we're being told, is in the hands of a storyteller: A writer called Sergei whose work in writing Gleb's story of average beginnings and a rocket-ride to success and stardom comes just as the trajectory enters its terminal velocity. As must happen to us all, Gleb's facing mortality and the sad end of productive life. What he does, in chronicling his life with Sergei's help, surnamed "Nestorov" or "of Nestor's line" which gave me quite the chuckle), is bridge the ever-widening gap between the past's ghostly and fantasy-based "unity" and the present's angry animosity. Gleb's life, his struggle to win through to a meaningful use of his passion and his loneliness in abandonment by his Russian mother and his obsessive, judgmental Ukrainian father, is Ukraine's story. It seems to Gleb that he loses his life to no end, to no result...then he orients himself towards a future of hopeful and fruitful action in mentoring a young, lost, rejected soul. Pay it forward.
If you've read Author Vodolazkin's award-winning book [Laurus] (the genus of evergreen trees called "Laurels" and used, as your history brain will remind you, as victory-wreath material), the themes of christian redemption through works and the need to seek a purpose to make life into A Life won't be unfamiliar. Where that book was a medieval fantasy, and one of rare and joyous elegance and compassion, this is a modern and more basic, more brutal in a sense, version of the story. Death plays its part in the proceedings but it is the death that you and I, Westerners and rationalists, know; in Laurus, Death like all other supernatural forces is embodied, personified. Our names for him have changed (eg "Parkinson's disease") but his dark, demanding, denying power have not.
It is in the face of Death that some people find their only moments of clarity. Gleb isn't exactly one of them, he's organzied his life around music and willed into being a life centered on making music count. But he hasn't, until he meets Sergei Nestorov, put his lived experience into an ordered, planned, meant-to-be-shared form. This is a major act of grace. He's done something so selfless in this examination of the pain of being not enough, discovering he can make others experience joy, then losing it all.
When Gleb finished writing his rain compositions, people told him they bore traces of despair. Gleb didn't respond. He remembered the particular expression in his father's eyes, an expression that could only be defined as despair. What really happened then? Was Irina frivolous? More likely, she took everything light-heartedly, showing a marked preference for the sunny side of life. And was disinclined to delve particularly into its shadowy aspects. She often repeated that she'd like to live in Australia: for some reason, that country seemed like the embodiment of the carefree life. Jokingly, she would ask people to find her an Australian husband she could travel the world with. It was in one of those conversations that Gleb first heard the word "Brisbane." Talking about the city of her dreams, his mother named Brisbane.
–and–
Irina allowed Gleb's father parental visits but derived no joy from them. Strictly speaking, neither did Gleb himself. When Fyodor took the boy for a walk, he mostly was silent or recited poetry, which for Gleb was worse than silence in a way. Sometimes, when Gleb got tired at the end of their walk, Fyodor would pick him up. Their eyes were on a level then, and the son would examine his father with a child's unblinking gaze. Under this gaze, tears would well up in Fyodor's brown eyes. One after another, they would roll down his cheeks and disappear forever in his fluffy mustache.
It can't escape your attention in either of these passages that the child isn't centered. It won't surprise you to learn that neither parent was There for their son. It can't escape your notice that, in that case, a child is left to his own devices, no matter the other sources of support he discovers over his life, to define what love and care are.
It won't shock you then to learn that Gleb married music, and focused on becoming a star when the Universe presented him with the possibility. And now...ending that life and without another prepared for himself...now he gifts all that he's learned to a writer who will tell of his lifelong struggle to be whole when his antecedents left him to figure out for himself what that would mean, what that would look like.
Much the way Ukraine is experiencing its national-identity crisis in a cruel war with its cold, needy, selfish mother who abandoned it when it was in need. Time after time after time.
Gleb forgives, accepts, and gives his all to the future, to the child he mentors, the child challenged to remain alive...does she have his luck, does she have his singleness of purpose to make music and make Life give him more music to make?
And Nestor(ov) does what he must do, he brings the legend to life by writing a life of the legend. I hope you'll read Vodolazkin's work. It is beautifully translated, with none of the stiltedness of transferring meaning from one tongue to another; Translator Schwartz started from a high mountain, it's true, but she also blazed her trail there with surefooted grace.
December 9, 2019
A szépség egy szerpentin, ahol bal kéz felől ott ásít a giccs szakadéka, és még szalagkorlát sincs. Vodolazkin pedig ott suhan 120-szal a szerpentinen, és mégsem zuhan le. Pedig a történet tulajdonképpen elcsépelt: Gleb, a világhírű gitárművész számvetést készít, aminek során egyfelől kapunk egy jelenidejű E/1-es szálat, plusz egy ifjúkori visszaemlékezés-cunamit. Ennél egyszerűbb alapsztorit elképzelni is nehéz, és hát az egyszerűség és a szépség kombinációja kifejezetten gyakran csap át émelyítőbe – mesterségbeli tudás kell ahhoz, hogy ezt elkerüljük. Vodolazkin elkerüli. Hogy mi a titka? Próbálom felfejteni. Kezdjük ott, hogy maga a történet is bír jelentős önértékkel: az orosz-ukrán kétlelkűség ábrázolása, a szovjet birodalom felbomlásának leírása, és az élet ebben a felbomlásban számíthat némi olvasói érdeklődésre. Ott van továbbá az, hogy Vodolazkin nem felejti el, az egyszerű történetek csak úgy működnek, ha minden klappol bennük. Ha még az utolsó statiszta is eleven, ha a párbeszédek csúsznak, és ha a leírás pont annyira aprólékos, hogy vitathatatlanul hiteles kulisszákat teremtsen, de azért ne csússzon át unalmasba. Ha a szereplők által megélt érzelmeket úgy tudja megjeleníteni, hogy azok egyszerre tűnjenek átélhetőnek és (a megírás módját tekintve) még-sosem-olvasottnak. De ami igazán megragadott: ez a könyv úgy tud szomorú lenni, hogy közben mégsem vigasztalan - mert ha a vég felé ballag is az ember, végső soron ő dönti el, hogy ahova megy, azt félelmetesnek képzeli-e el, vagy inkább valami ismeretlen, izgalmas, szubtrópusi világnak – aminek a neve legyen... legyen Brisbane. Mondjuk.
August 9, 2021
"Brisbane” este o altă mare carte (și cea mai recentă) a lui Vodolazkin, scrisă tot în tradiția romanului rusesc, ce a primit de curând marele premiu, Aleksandr Soljenițîn, precum și premiul Cartea anului 2019.
Alături de “Laur” și “Aviatorul", ar putea fi considerate o trilogie, deși ele se pot citi și independent, neavând legătură unul cu celălalt, unite fiind doar de tema aleasă, iar asta pentru că în ele se vorbește despre timp, memorie și credință.
"Brisbane” este încadrat în cu totul alt context față de “Laur”, cu toate că asemănarea cu acesta este aceea că și aici apare problematica legată de Dumnezeu, existând în permanență preocuparea pentru divinitate dar și obsesia timpului, exact ca în “Aviatorul”.
Romanul se desfășoară pe două planuri, sistematic alternate, tocmai pentru a menține vie curiozitatea cititorului.
Pe primul plan este redată la persoana a treia povestea unui copil din Ucraina, pe nume Gleb Ianovski, iar în plan secund este relatată la persoana întâi povestea unui celebru chitarist care ajunge să fie atins de boala Parkinson. Interesant este atât faptul că în roman chitaristul nu are nume, precum și modul surprinzător în care cele două planuri și povești ajung să se întrepătrundă, iar astfel, arta narativă pe care o atinge Vodolazkin este una de mare clasă.
Ni se oferă un roman frumos, dens și muzical, ce mizează mult pe simțul auzului cititorului, Brisbane fiind cheia întregii cărți, acest nume propriu, de oraș îndepărtat, ce devine o Mecca a năzuințelor.
Aș remarca două citate-mostră ce pot doar să sporească interesul pentru această lectură:
"Viitorul e ușor de luat, fiindcă nu există. Nu e decât iluzie. E greu să iei prezentul și, și mai greu - trecutul. Și e imposibil de luat, vă aduc la cunoștință, veșnicia."
[...]
"Dacă boala îți micșorează zilele, să știi că în cazul acesta, în locul lungimii zilelor ți se va da adâncimea lor. Dar ne vom ruga ca nici lungimea lor să nu se micșoreze."
Alături de “Laur” și “Aviatorul", ar putea fi considerate o trilogie, deși ele se pot citi și independent, neavând legătură unul cu celălalt, unite fiind doar de tema aleasă, iar asta pentru că în ele se vorbește despre timp, memorie și credință.
"Brisbane” este încadrat în cu totul alt context față de “Laur”, cu toate că asemănarea cu acesta este aceea că și aici apare problematica legată de Dumnezeu, existând în permanență preocuparea pentru divinitate dar și obsesia timpului, exact ca în “Aviatorul”.
Romanul se desfășoară pe două planuri, sistematic alternate, tocmai pentru a menține vie curiozitatea cititorului.
Pe primul plan este redată la persoana a treia povestea unui copil din Ucraina, pe nume Gleb Ianovski, iar în plan secund este relatată la persoana întâi povestea unui celebru chitarist care ajunge să fie atins de boala Parkinson. Interesant este atât faptul că în roman chitaristul nu are nume, precum și modul surprinzător în care cele două planuri și povești ajung să se întrepătrundă, iar astfel, arta narativă pe care o atinge Vodolazkin este una de mare clasă.
Ni se oferă un roman frumos, dens și muzical, ce mizează mult pe simțul auzului cititorului, Brisbane fiind cheia întregii cărți, acest nume propriu, de oraș îndepărtat, ce devine o Mecca a năzuințelor.
Aș remarca două citate-mostră ce pot doar să sporească interesul pentru această lectură:
"Viitorul e ușor de luat, fiindcă nu există. Nu e decât iluzie. E greu să iei prezentul și, și mai greu - trecutul. Și e imposibil de luat, vă aduc la cunoștință, veșnicia."
[...]
"Dacă boala îți micșorează zilele, să știi că în cazul acesta, în locul lungimii zilelor ți se va da adâncimea lor. Dar ne vom ruga ca nici lungimea lor să nu se micșoreze."
November 2, 2019
Дебютный роман Евы Даласкиной
Чтобы пересказать «Анну Каренину», надо написать ее заново. Чтобы объяснить, чем плох «Брисбен» Водолазкина, надо цитировать каждую строчку.
Глеб Яновский, известный на весь мир гитарист-виртуоз (вы вообще видели когда-нибудь известных на весь мир гитаристов? Не Роллинг-Стоунз, а таких, чтобы выступали в Карнеги и Альберт-холле? Вот и я не видела) обнаруживает в правой руке странный тремор и не может сыграть нужные ноты. По пути из Парижа в Петербург – «лечу на съемки клипа», не хухры-мухры! – знакомится с поддатым писателем по кличке Нестор, который задушевно предлагает нашей звезде написать о ней биографию. Герой снисходительно отмахивается, ах, увольте, обо мне уже столько написано, но, видите ли, «понимания нет». Боже, Боже. Нестор клятвенно обещает понимание – и человеческое, и музыкальное. Музыкант, оказывается, довольно кстати ведет дневник. Нестор приглашает Глеба в гости в себе, на Большой проспект Петроградской стороны, они братаются, пьют водку, до утра стихийно беседуют, и вот работа над книгой уже начинается. Глеб одной рукой пытается унять развивающийся Паркинсон и не подвести публику, скупившую билеты на его выступления, другой – записывает свои воспоминания: 1971 год, Киев, Украина и Россия все еще друзья навек, выпивоха-отец по-украински сообщает Глебу, что у него нет ни капельки музыкального таланта.
Это правда очень, очень плохой роман. Он насквозь шаблонный, клишированный, если хотите по Гоголю, пошлейший. Сюжет – мелкий винегрет из всех популярных мотивов мыльных опер; в дополнение к стандартным романтическим и личностным твистам есть даже смертельно больная дочь буйнопомешанной первой женщины героя, которая тоже оказывается прекрасным музыкантом и на пороге смерти дает с названным отцом концерт, где они исполняют переложенную на английский песню ее собственного сочинения, и многотысячный зал падает от восторга, особенно те, кто висит на люстре. Ей-богу, это не я придумала, это Водолазкин.
Первое время я даже думала, что это такой прием, как в «Сластёне» Макьюэна. Но нет, даже за вычетом чудовищного сюжета, диалоги романа тоже писали, по-видимому, сценаристы «Рабыни Изауры»:
Из-за соседнего столика встает женщина и, извинившись, просит у меня автограф. Два служителя выносят на веранду арфу. Не торопясь выходит арфистка – черное платье, голые плечи, боа. Полная. Ее как арфистку это только украшает. По дороге к арфе делает крюк и, подойдя к нашему столику, кланяется. Отвечаю поклоном, окружающие аплодируют. Арфистка садится на стул и начинает играть.
– Мы всё переживем вместе, – Катя кладет свою ладонь поверх моей. – Всё.
Oсторожно освобождаюсь от ее ладони.
– Помнишь русский ресторан в Лондоне? Мое сумасшествие. Я тогда не ночевал дома. Я хочу, чтобы ты знала…
– Не продолжай. Я хочу об этом забыть.
Я тоже. Молча целую Катины пальцы.
И вот такие пассажи господин Водолазкин выдает нам вполне серьезно, страница за страницей. Великий гитарист, еще до своего величия, оказывается, учился на филологическом в Ленинграде, и описания лекций по старославу и профессоров должны были, по идее, тронуть жесткое сердце филолога-русиста, но даже они в какой-то момент вызывают уже не умиление, а раздражение: а это тут еще зачем? Как будто в последний раз, в «Брисбен» Водолазкин впихивает всех: прекрасную утопленницу, брата с уголовными наклонностями, православного дедушку, любвеобильного иностранного студента по прозвищу Дуня, одинокую филологиню с семнадцатью кошками, и в компоте из мексиканских страстей и философствования тонут даже удачные персонажи.
Читать «Брисбен» я бы посоветовала только чистым душой, наивным читателям или верным поклонникам писателя Водолазкина, всем остальным можно смело пропустить. Это, знаете, такой роман-крабовые палочки: многообещающее название, а по вкусу – бумага бумагой.
Чтобы пересказать «Анну Каренину», надо написать ее заново. Чтобы объяснить, чем плох «Брисбен» Водолазкина, надо цитировать каждую строчку.
Глеб Яновский, известный на весь мир гитарист-виртуоз (вы вообще видели когда-нибудь известных на весь мир гитаристов? Не Роллинг-Стоунз, а таких, чтобы выступали в Карнеги и Альберт-холле? Вот и я не видела) обнаруживает в правой руке странный тремор и не может сыграть нужные ноты. По пути из Парижа в Петербург – «лечу на съемки клипа», не хухры-мухры! – знакомится с поддатым писателем по кличке Нестор, который задушевно предлагает нашей звезде написать о ней биографию. Герой снисходительно отмахивается, ах, увольте, обо мне уже столько написано, но, видите ли, «понимания нет». Боже, Боже. Нестор клятвенно обещает понимание – и человеческое, и музыкальное. Музыкант, оказывается, довольно кстати ведет дневник. Нестор приглашает Глеба в гости в себе, на Большой проспект Петроградской стороны, они братаются, пьют водку, до утра стихийно беседуют, и вот работа над книгой уже начинается. Глеб одной рукой пытается унять развивающийся Паркинсон и не подвести публику, скупившую билеты на его выступления, другой – записывает свои воспоминания: 1971 год, Киев, Украина и Россия все еще друзья навек, выпивоха-отец по-украински сообщает Глебу, что у него нет ни капельки музыкального таланта.
Это правда очень, очень плохой роман. Он насквозь шаблонный, клишированный, если хотите по Гоголю, пошлейший. Сюжет – мелкий винегрет из всех популярных мотивов мыльных опер; в дополнение к стандартным романтическим и личностным твистам есть даже смертельно больная дочь буйнопомешанной первой женщины героя, которая тоже оказывается прекрасным музыкантом и на пороге смерти дает с названным отцом концерт, где они исполняют переложенную на английский песню ее собственного сочинения, и многотысячный зал падает от восторга, особенно те, кто висит на люстре. Ей-богу, это не я придумала, это Водолазкин.
Первое время я даже думала, что это такой прием, как в «Сластёне» Макьюэна. Но нет, даже за вычетом чудовищного сюжета, диалоги романа тоже писали, по-видимому, сценаристы «Рабыни Изауры»:
Из-за соседнего столика встает женщина и, извинившись, просит у меня автограф. Два служителя выносят на веранду арфу. Не торопясь выходит арфистка – черное платье, голые плечи, боа. Полная. Ее как арфистку это только украшает. По дороге к арфе делает крюк и, подойдя к нашему столику, кланяется. Отвечаю поклоном, окружающие аплодируют. Арфистка садится на стул и начинает играть.
– Мы всё переживем вместе, – Катя кладет свою ладонь поверх моей. – Всё.
Oсторожно освобождаюсь от ее ладони.
– Помнишь русский ресторан в Лондоне? Мое сумасшествие. Я тогда не ночевал дома. Я хочу, чтобы ты знала…
– Не продолжай. Я хочу об этом забыть.
Я тоже. Молча целую Катины пальцы.
И вот такие пассажи господин Водолазкин выдает нам вполне серьезно, страница за страницей. Великий гитарист, еще до своего величия, оказывается, учился на филологическом в Ленинграде, и описания лекций по старославу и профессоров должны были, по идее, тронуть жесткое сердце филолога-русиста, но даже они в какой-то момент вызывают уже не умиление, а раздражение: а это тут еще зачем? Как будто в последний раз, в «Брисбен» Водолазкин впихивает всех: прекрасную утопленницу, брата с уголовными наклонностями, православного дедушку, любвеобильного иностранного студента по прозвищу Дуня, одинокую филологиню с семнадцатью кошками, и в компоте из мексиканских страстей и философствования тонут даже удачные персонажи.
Читать «Брисбен» я бы посоветовала только чистым душой, наивным читателям или верным поклонникам писателя Водолазкина, всем остальным можно смело пропустить. Это, знаете, такой роман-крабовые палочки: многообещающее название, а по вкусу – бумага бумагой.
January 15, 2023
It took me a long time to read this book. Months and months and months. Brisbane was a frustrating read for me because so many portions of it are so, so beautiful, and so true, and yet other parts seemed entirely unnecessary to me.
The writer writes as it moves him to write. He doesn't care what I'm interested in. The story I wanted to read was the story of a great artist slowly losing his ability to express himself through his art. I had close to zero interest in the artist's childhood, or in the events that got him to this place of great reckoning in his life. I wanted to skip those parts, even if they are critical, in the writer's view, to my understanding of the artist in his moments of decline, loss, grief.
In the novel's soaring moments I wanted to linger and re-read. In its more pedestrian pages I got stuck and lost heart. It's like the way people reading Moby Dick lose heart at the blubber rendering parts. But the moments of greatness threaded through this story made it memorable and glorious.
The writer writes as it moves him to write. He doesn't care what I'm interested in. The story I wanted to read was the story of a great artist slowly losing his ability to express himself through his art. I had close to zero interest in the artist's childhood, or in the events that got him to this place of great reckoning in his life. I wanted to skip those parts, even if they are critical, in the writer's view, to my understanding of the artist in his moments of decline, loss, grief.
In the novel's soaring moments I wanted to linger and re-read. In its more pedestrian pages I got stuck and lost heart. It's like the way people reading Moby Dick lose heart at the blubber rendering parts. But the moments of greatness threaded through this story made it memorable and glorious.
November 1, 2019
Da, viața e mai cuprinzătoare decât sensul ei.
"Viitorul este simplu să-l răpești, pentru că acesta nu există. Este doar o visare. Dificil este să iei prezentul, și mai abitir – trecutul. Iar veșnicia, trebuie să vă anunț, e cel mai greu să o smulgi. – Și dacă bolile vor micșora zilele tale, în aceeași măsură vei căpăta profunzimea acestora. Dar trebuie să ne rugăm, ca nici lungimea acestora să nu se micșoreze”.
"Viitorul este simplu să-l răpești, pentru că acesta nu există. Este doar o visare. Dificil este să iei prezentul, și mai abitir – trecutul. Iar veșnicia, trebuie să vă anunț, e cel mai greu să o smulgi. – Și dacă bolile vor micșora zilele tale, în aceeași măsură vei căpăta profunzimea acestora. Dar trebuie să ne rugăm, ca nici lungimea acestora să nu se micșoreze”.
January 7, 2023
E dire che all'inizio non mi piaceva neanche tanto, mi seccava l'idea di provare a immedesimarmi con il protagonista. Ora che l'ho finito sono così tanto dispiaciuta perché ne vorrei ancora un po', vorrei stare ancora un po' con lui.
Per primi mi hanno colpita gli aspetti negativi del libro: anzitutto la lentezza esasperante, è ancor più lento di Lauro. La doppia linea temporale - il protagonista adulto in un presente del 2012-13-14, a fianco della storia della sua infanzia e giovinezza, dagli anni settanta in avanti - si intreccia mirabilmente e con ottimi accorgimenti, ma il racconto fornisce tanti di quei dettagli da dare, in un primo momento, un senso di stanchezza. Altro elemento negativo che per qualche istante mi ha indispettita - specialmente dopo la tremenda lettura del libro della Strano che doveva parlare di Paganini - è il fatto che anche questo autore ci è cascato, nel luogo comune (anzi nella super-banalità) della chitarra che ha forme femminili (e allora mi chiedo: io che suono proprio la chitarra, cosa devo sembrare? per forza una lesbica? Ché non ci sarebbe niente di male nell'omosessualità, ma certo non è informazione da desumere dallo strumento che uno/una suona).
Ma ho tenuto duro e pian piano hanno iniziato ad emergere ed a prevalere gli elementi positivi: a parte quella caduta di stile iniziale, il modo di raccontare la musica e lo strumento non è per nulla scontato né banale, e lo stesso dicasi nella descrizione della vita di un musicista, l'ho trovata sempre realistica e pertinente.
Altro tema svolto in maniera pertinente e mai da "furbetto" è quello della malattia e della morte.
Ancora un tema interessantissimo e attualissimissimissimo: il rapporto Russia-Ucraina, nonché rapporto russi-ucraini. Il libro è del 2018 e pubblicato per la prima volta nel 2019, quindi non fa il furbetto neanche su questo fronte, ha affrontato il tema in un momento in cui di questa questione non se ne parlava affatto, né sui quotidiani, né al tiggì, né al bar. E va detto che non pretende di affrontare la cosa in maniera esaustiva e definitiva, però offre un punto di vista molto interno e molto pacato. Il che è tutto il contrario degli sguaiati (imho) quotidiani e telegiornali.
Più in generale, una volta oltrepassata abbondantemente la metà del volume, emergono con forza la densità, la qualità e la quantità dei temi trattati, e ancora la precisione e l'eleganza della scrittura; e insomma il tutto procede con uno studiatissimo crescendo che mi porta ad affezionarmi ai protagonisti e mi fa atterrare, a fine lettura, con opinioni diametralmente opposte a quelle che mi ero fatta sulle prime righe. E così mi ritrovo con lo stesso giudizio che avevo dato per Lauro: quattro stelle e mezza e tanto rammarico perché questo scrittore mi sembra essere assai meno popolare di quanto meriterebbe.
Per primi mi hanno colpita gli aspetti negativi del libro: anzitutto la lentezza esasperante, è ancor più lento di Lauro. La doppia linea temporale - il protagonista adulto in un presente del 2012-13-14, a fianco della storia della sua infanzia e giovinezza, dagli anni settanta in avanti - si intreccia mirabilmente e con ottimi accorgimenti, ma il racconto fornisce tanti di quei dettagli da dare, in un primo momento, un senso di stanchezza. Altro elemento negativo che per qualche istante mi ha indispettita - specialmente dopo la tremenda lettura del libro della Strano che doveva parlare di Paganini - è il fatto che anche questo autore ci è cascato, nel luogo comune (anzi nella super-banalità) della chitarra che ha forme femminili (e allora mi chiedo: io che suono proprio la chitarra, cosa devo sembrare? per forza una lesbica? Ché non ci sarebbe niente di male nell'omosessualità, ma certo non è informazione da desumere dallo strumento che uno/una suona).
Ma ho tenuto duro e pian piano hanno iniziato ad emergere ed a prevalere gli elementi positivi: a parte quella caduta di stile iniziale, il modo di raccontare la musica e lo strumento non è per nulla scontato né banale, e lo stesso dicasi nella descrizione della vita di un musicista, l'ho trovata sempre realistica e pertinente.
Altro tema svolto in maniera pertinente e mai da "furbetto" è quello della malattia e della morte.
Ancora un tema interessantissimo e attualissimissimissimo: il rapporto Russia-Ucraina, nonché rapporto russi-ucraini. Il libro è del 2018 e pubblicato per la prima volta nel 2019, quindi non fa il furbetto neanche su questo fronte, ha affrontato il tema in un momento in cui di questa questione non se ne parlava affatto, né sui quotidiani, né al tiggì, né al bar. E va detto che non pretende di affrontare la cosa in maniera esaustiva e definitiva, però offre un punto di vista molto interno e molto pacato. Il che è tutto il contrario degli sguaiati (imho) quotidiani e telegiornali.
Più in generale, una volta oltrepassata abbondantemente la metà del volume, emergono con forza la densità, la qualità e la quantità dei temi trattati, e ancora la precisione e l'eleganza della scrittura; e insomma il tutto procede con uno studiatissimo crescendo che mi porta ad affezionarmi ai protagonisti e mi fa atterrare, a fine lettura, con opinioni diametralmente opposte a quelle che mi ero fatta sulle prime righe. E così mi ritrovo con lo stesso giudizio che avevo dato per Lauro: quattro stelle e mezza e tanto rammarico perché questo scrittore mi sembra essere assai meno popolare di quanto meriterebbe.
March 1, 2022
An engrossing novel--so well written, Vodolazkin's sly humor just surfacing at moments in its past/present tale of a virtuoso Ukranian-Russian guitarist, Gleb Yanovsky, juxtaposing his upbringing, his musical and 'sentimental' education in Kyiv, student days in Leningrad, juxtaposed to the present story of the world-famous musician and his reluctant acceptance of a Parkinson's diagnosis. The past story is told in enormous unparagraphed blocks, third person past tense, while the present story, in first person present tense, is told in realtime scenes, as he meets a man who wants to write his biography. The past story is particularly compelling, because the child Gleb is so open and just developing his sense of himself in the world, while the present Gleb is a bit jaded--only to be expected--and yet life continues to throw him curve-balls, even his diagnosis doesn't exempt him from the unexpected, the continuation of life.
His description of Gleb's musicality is the best I've ever seen in a novel, finally a musician who thinks like a musician! Something that remains unconvincing in so many other novels. And in these solid blocks of storytelling, Gleb's past, bigger thoughts are woven in with sensual description and startling incidents which resonate in the memory, of love and death and sudden violence. The novel is pitched in the key of nostalgia, the world of late Soviet life, wonderful, weird incidents of family life, of the neighbors, of his musical Ukranian father Fyodor and his inexplicable Russian mother Irina. She is the one who dreams of 'Brisbane', a magic place:
"When Gleb finished writing his rain compositions, people told him they bore traces of despair. Gleb didn't respond. He remembered the particular expression in his father's eyes, an expression that could only be defined as despair. What really happened then? Was Irina frivolous? More likely, she took everything light-heartedly, showing a marked preference for the sunny side of life. And was disinclined to delve particularly into its shadowy aspects. She often repeated that she'd like to live in Australia: for some reason, that country seemed like the embodiment of the carefree life. Jokingly, she would ask people to find her an Australian husband she could travel the world with. It was in one of those conversations that Gleb first heard the word "Brisbane." Talking about the city of her dreams, his mother named Brisbane."
A simply beautiful book, with a mysterious coda ending that made me want to begin again.
Will be published May 2022.
His description of Gleb's musicality is the best I've ever seen in a novel, finally a musician who thinks like a musician! Something that remains unconvincing in so many other novels. And in these solid blocks of storytelling, Gleb's past, bigger thoughts are woven in with sensual description and startling incidents which resonate in the memory, of love and death and sudden violence. The novel is pitched in the key of nostalgia, the world of late Soviet life, wonderful, weird incidents of family life, of the neighbors, of his musical Ukranian father Fyodor and his inexplicable Russian mother Irina. She is the one who dreams of 'Brisbane', a magic place:
"When Gleb finished writing his rain compositions, people told him they bore traces of despair. Gleb didn't respond. He remembered the particular expression in his father's eyes, an expression that could only be defined as despair. What really happened then? Was Irina frivolous? More likely, she took everything light-heartedly, showing a marked preference for the sunny side of life. And was disinclined to delve particularly into its shadowy aspects. She often repeated that she'd like to live in Australia: for some reason, that country seemed like the embodiment of the carefree life. Jokingly, she would ask people to find her an Australian husband she could travel the world with. It was in one of those conversations that Gleb first heard the word "Brisbane." Talking about the city of her dreams, his mother named Brisbane."
A simply beautiful book, with a mysterious coda ending that made me want to begin again.
Will be published May 2022.
February 21, 2020
"- Prin prisma veșniciei, nu există nici timp, nici direcție. Așa încât viața nu este momentul prezentului, ci toate momentele trăite de tine.
- Tu vorbești despre prezent și despre trecut, dar taci despre viitor - așa, ca și cum n-ar fi.
- Dar nici nu e. În nici unul din momente. Fiindcă el vine numai sub formă de prezent și, crede-mă, diferă foarte mult de reprezentările noastre despre el. Viitorul este o grămadă de fantezii. Ori - și mai rău - de utopii: pentru realizarea lor se sacrifică prezentul. Tot ce nu are viabilitate e trimis în viitor.
- Dar îi este propriu omului să aspire spre viitor.
- Ar fi mai bine ca omul acesta să aspire spre prezent."
" Viitorul e ușor de luat, fiind că nu există. Nu e decât o iluzie. E greu să iei prezentul și, și mai greu - trecutul. Și e imposibil de luat, vă aduc la cunoștință, veșnicia."
- Tu vorbești despre prezent și despre trecut, dar taci despre viitor - așa, ca și cum n-ar fi.
- Dar nici nu e. În nici unul din momente. Fiindcă el vine numai sub formă de prezent și, crede-mă, diferă foarte mult de reprezentările noastre despre el. Viitorul este o grămadă de fantezii. Ori - și mai rău - de utopii: pentru realizarea lor se sacrifică prezentul. Tot ce nu are viabilitate e trimis în viitor.
- Dar îi este propriu omului să aspire spre viitor.
- Ar fi mai bine ca omul acesta să aspire spre prezent."
" Viitorul e ușor de luat, fiind că nu există. Nu e decât o iluzie. E greu să iei prezentul și, și mai greu - trecutul. Și e imposibil de luat, vă aduc la cunoștință, veșnicia."
October 20, 2024
Când vine vorba de Vodolazkin aș aduna toate superlativele pozitive la un loc, atât de mult mă fascinează stilul impecabil și profund al scriitorului.
Vodolazkin dă dovadă de multă abilitate și măiestrie când își pune gândurile pe hârtie.., cuvintele lui au un farmec aparte, te învăluie lin, frumos și-ți dezmiardă simțurile. Fiecare carte a scriitorului îmbină cu dibăcie desăvârșită creația literară cu elementele filozofice și spirituale ale timpului, iar profunzimea scrierii e copleșitoare, aici ,,Brisbane" nu e o excepție.
✅,,Când îți fuge pământul de sub picioare e mai bine să te ții de cer."
✅,,...prin prisma veșniciei, nu există nici timp, nici direcție. Așa încât viața nu este momentul prezentului, ci toate momentele trăite de tine. Iar viitorul (...), viitorul nici nu e. În nici unul din momente. Fiindcă el vine numai sub formă de prezent și, crede-mă, diferă foarte mult de reprezentările noastre despre el. Viitorul este o grămadă de fantezii. Ori - și mai rău - de utopii: p/u realizarea lor se sacrifică prezentul.
✅ ,,Viitorul e ușor de luat, fiindcă nu există. Nu e decât iluzie. E greu să iei prezentul și, și mai greu- trecutul. Și e imposibil de luat, vă aduc la cunoștință, veșnicia. Dacă boala îți micșorează zilele, să știi că în cazul acesta în locul lungimii zilelor ți se va da adâncimea lor."
P.S. Pentru mine scriitura lui Vodolazkin e poezie pură...💖💖💖
Vodolazkin dă dovadă de multă abilitate și măiestrie când își pune gândurile pe hârtie.., cuvintele lui au un farmec aparte, te învăluie lin, frumos și-ți dezmiardă simțurile. Fiecare carte a scriitorului îmbină cu dibăcie desăvârșită creația literară cu elementele filozofice și spirituale ale timpului, iar profunzimea scrierii e copleșitoare, aici ,,Brisbane" nu e o excepție.
✅,,Când îți fuge pământul de sub picioare e mai bine să te ții de cer."
✅,,...prin prisma veșniciei, nu există nici timp, nici direcție. Așa încât viața nu este momentul prezentului, ci toate momentele trăite de tine. Iar viitorul (...), viitorul nici nu e. În nici unul din momente. Fiindcă el vine numai sub formă de prezent și, crede-mă, diferă foarte mult de reprezentările noastre despre el. Viitorul este o grămadă de fantezii. Ori - și mai rău - de utopii: p/u realizarea lor se sacrifică prezentul.
✅ ,,Viitorul e ușor de luat, fiindcă nu există. Nu e decât iluzie. E greu să iei prezentul și, și mai greu- trecutul. Și e imposibil de luat, vă aduc la cunoștință, veșnicia. Dacă boala îți micșorează zilele, să știi că în cazul acesta în locul lungimii zilelor ți se va da adâncimea lor."
P.S. Pentru mine scriitura lui Vodolazkin e poezie pură...💖💖💖
June 18, 2019
Когда писатель набирает достаточно опыта, он может написать относительно крепкий текст, не приходя в сознание — ну как люди посуду моют, не особо задумываясь над тем, какие движения они совершают. Но пользоваться этой возможностью совершенно необязательно, иначе даже у такого хорошего писателя как Водолазкин может выйти вымученный «Брисбен».
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January 27, 2020Am inceput aceasta carte cu sperante mari. Am citit acum ceva vreme "Laur" si mi-a placut foarte mult, m-a cucerit de la primele pagini. Apoi am citit rezumatul scurt al cartii de pe ultima coperta si mi-am zis ca poate fi ceva de calitate (amintiri, boala Parkinson - avand in vedere ca traiesc intr-o relatie destul de intima cu aceasta boala).
Primele pagini mi-au placut - fraze scurte, aparent alerte. Ulterior am inteles structura cartii: cartea este scrisa pe doua planuri: cel actual, in care se intampla diferite lucruri si muzicianul nostru (figura centrala a cartii) se tot intalneste cu un scriitor caruia ii povesteste viata lui si cel al amintirilor - practic ceea ce ii povesteste muzicianul scriitorului.
Planul prezent este scurt, are dialog. Asta nu inseamna ca se intampla ceva. Initial apare tremorul, apoi mersul la doctori, apoi confirmarea bolii. Apoi am renuntat.
Planul amintirilor este lung, scris parca dintr-o suflare, fara paragrafe. Este un singur paragraf in care este prezentata o anumita etapa caracteristica anului respectiv. Multe personaje, referiri la invatarea instrumentului, tatal, mama, bunica. Aceste capitole au reprezentat de la bun inceput un chin pentru mine caci scriitura este de asa natura incat trebuie sa te concentrezi mult pentru ca gandul sa nu iti zboare aiurea. Cu alte cuvinte, plictisitor. Iar dupa ce te-ai chinuit si ai strabatut un capitol lung, fara paragrafe, nici macar nu esti recompensat cu senzatia ca ai citit ceva interesant, stimulant sau indraznet. Nici macar lirica nu e. Cum a fost Laurus.
Revenind la planul prezent, nu am inteles mare lucru. De fapt toata emotia pe care ar putea-o produce planul prezent este suprimata de urmatoarele doua aspecte: planul prezent este scurt si nici macar concis, dupa care urmeaza planul trecut lung si anost. La un moment dat apare boala, care la fel nu produce efectul scontat asupra cititorului (cel putin asupra mea). O boala neurologica degenerativa este cu siguranta un diagnostic devastator mai ales daca apare la o varsta tanara. Felul in care Vodolazkin vorbeste despre aceasta boala dovedeste ca nu are nici o legatura cu ea. Totul este rece si foarte intelectual. Nici un fel de pasiune, teama, groaza de dementa, groaza de neputinta de a te mai putea misca, de a fi prizonierul propriului corp. Stresul medicamentelor. Stresul luarii medicamentelor la ore fixe. Depresia, frica.
Este posibil sa se intample mai multe in carte si tot ceea ce am scris eu aici sa fie complet fals dar dupa 1/3 din carte am inteles ca pentru mine este o pierdere de timp sa citesc in continuare. In special planul amintirilor care m-a lasat complet rece.
Si inca ceva: se pune mare accent pe amintiri. Ori amintirile sunt neclare, uneori sterse. Aici amintirile (chiar si cele petrecute in urma cu 40 de ani) sunt clare, vivide, logice. Asta a fost iarasi un punct care pentru mine a dus la scaderea credibilitatii cartii. Vreti o cartea a amintirilor, unde apar franturi, neaduceri aminte, lucruri neclare? Cititi Dragan Velikić - Jeder muss doch irgendwo sein: Roman (nu am gasit nici o editie in limba romana).
Pentru cine a citit cartea, astept comentariile voastre, poate reusiti sa imi schimbati parerea sau sa imi explicati ce nu am vazut/inteles eu la acest roman.
Primele pagini mi-au placut - fraze scurte, aparent alerte. Ulterior am inteles structura cartii: cartea este scrisa pe doua planuri: cel actual, in care se intampla diferite lucruri si muzicianul nostru (figura centrala a cartii) se tot intalneste cu un scriitor caruia ii povesteste viata lui si cel al amintirilor - practic ceea ce ii povesteste muzicianul scriitorului.
Planul prezent este scurt, are dialog. Asta nu inseamna ca se intampla ceva. Initial apare tremorul, apoi mersul la doctori, apoi confirmarea bolii. Apoi am renuntat.
Planul amintirilor este lung, scris parca dintr-o suflare, fara paragrafe. Este un singur paragraf in care este prezentata o anumita etapa caracteristica anului respectiv. Multe personaje, referiri la invatarea instrumentului, tatal, mama, bunica. Aceste capitole au reprezentat de la bun inceput un chin pentru mine caci scriitura este de asa natura incat trebuie sa te concentrezi mult pentru ca gandul sa nu iti zboare aiurea. Cu alte cuvinte, plictisitor. Iar dupa ce te-ai chinuit si ai strabatut un capitol lung, fara paragrafe, nici macar nu esti recompensat cu senzatia ca ai citit ceva interesant, stimulant sau indraznet. Nici macar lirica nu e. Cum a fost Laurus.
Revenind la planul prezent, nu am inteles mare lucru. De fapt toata emotia pe care ar putea-o produce planul prezent este suprimata de urmatoarele doua aspecte: planul prezent este scurt si nici macar concis, dupa care urmeaza planul trecut lung si anost. La un moment dat apare boala, care la fel nu produce efectul scontat asupra cititorului (cel putin asupra mea). O boala neurologica degenerativa este cu siguranta un diagnostic devastator mai ales daca apare la o varsta tanara. Felul in care Vodolazkin vorbeste despre aceasta boala dovedeste ca nu are nici o legatura cu ea. Totul este rece si foarte intelectual. Nici un fel de pasiune, teama, groaza de dementa, groaza de neputinta de a te mai putea misca, de a fi prizonierul propriului corp. Stresul medicamentelor. Stresul luarii medicamentelor la ore fixe. Depresia, frica.
Este posibil sa se intample mai multe in carte si tot ceea ce am scris eu aici sa fie complet fals dar dupa 1/3 din carte am inteles ca pentru mine este o pierdere de timp sa citesc in continuare. In special planul amintirilor care m-a lasat complet rece.
Si inca ceva: se pune mare accent pe amintiri. Ori amintirile sunt neclare, uneori sterse. Aici amintirile (chiar si cele petrecute in urma cu 40 de ani) sunt clare, vivide, logice. Asta a fost iarasi un punct care pentru mine a dus la scaderea credibilitatii cartii. Vreti o cartea a amintirilor, unde apar franturi, neaduceri aminte, lucruri neclare? Cititi Dragan Velikić - Jeder muss doch irgendwo sein: Roman (nu am gasit nici o editie in limba romana).
Pentru cine a citit cartea, astept comentariile voastre, poate reusiti sa imi schimbati parerea sau sa imi explicati ce nu am vazut/inteles eu la acest roman.
July 11, 2023
رواية جمعت بين لغة المدرسة الواقعية والتاريخية، والوجودية بعفويتها. تروي سيرة وتاريخ وعلاقات وحياة الموسيقار غليب يانوفسكي، مع شد الانتباه إلى وشائج العلاقات بين الشعبين الأوكراني و الروسي، وهو ما يقع تحت مظلة الذات والآخر؛ "تحاول الفينومينولوجيا الوجودية وصف طبيعة خبرة الشخص بعالمه ونفسه. وهي لا تحاول وصف أشياء معينة من خبرته بقدر ما تحاول وضع كل الخبرات الخاصة في سياق مجمل وجوده في عالمه."
…،الفن والحياة، والحب والذاكرة بما تعبأ به من تنافر ذهني وتضاد في سيرورة التقدم والنجاح ومصارعة المعنى، وكيف يتغير ذلك مع التقدم في العمر ووطأة المرض.
"في سياق ما نسميه الحياة الطبيعية والعقل والحرية، تأتي كل أطرنا المرجعية مبهمة وملتبسة."
الترجمة كعادة الأستاذ تحسين رزاق رائعة !
…،الفن والحياة، والحب والذاكرة بما تعبأ به من تنافر ذهني وتضاد في سيرورة التقدم والنجاح ومصارعة المعنى، وكيف يتغير ذلك مع التقدم في العمر ووطأة المرض.
"في سياق ما نسميه الحياة الطبيعية والعقل والحرية، تأتي كل أطرنا المرجعية مبهمة وملتبسة."
الترجمة كعادة الأستاذ تحسين رزاق رائعة !
January 1, 2020
“Dar Dumnezeu l-a văzut pe el. Și l-a binecuvântat”
Interesant. Eu știam raspunsul: “dacă nu Il gasești pe Dumnezeu în tine, nu îl căuta printre stele”, dat, cică, de însuși Gagarin
“Viitorul e ușor de luat, fiindca nu există. Nu e decât iluzie. E greu să iei prezentul și, și mai greu - trecutul. Și e imposibil de luat ... veșnicia.”
Interesant. Eu știam raspunsul: “dacă nu Il gasești pe Dumnezeu în tine, nu îl căuta printre stele”, dat, cică, de însuși Gagarin
“Viitorul e ușor de luat, fiindca nu există. Nu e decât iluzie. E greu să iei prezentul și, și mai greu - trecutul. Și e imposibil de luat ... veșnicia.”
September 25, 2021
Cântând la Olympia, la Paris, nu pot executa un tremolo. Mai exact, cânt, dar fără fineţe, fără acurateţe – cum fac chitariştii începători care produc o gâlgâială surdă în loc de note. Nimeni nu
observă nimic, şi Olympia se dezlănţuie în ovaţii. Îmi uit până şi eu rateul, dar, după ce mă urc în limuzină în aclamaţiile admiratorilor, îmi surprind degetele mişcându-se în felul cunoscut. Mâna dreaptă, răscumpărând parcă greşeala comisă, execută acum un tremolo inutil. Degetele mi se mişcă incredibil de repede. Ating corzi imaginare. Ca foarfeca frizerului: după ce se desprinde pentru o
clipă de păr, continuă să tundă – aerul. În timp ce mă apropii de aeroportul Charles de Gaulle, bat în geam melodia prost interpretată: nimic complicat. Cum de m-am poticnit în concert?
observă nimic, şi Olympia se dezlănţuie în ovaţii. Îmi uit până şi eu rateul, dar, după ce mă urc în limuzină în aclamaţiile admiratorilor, îmi surprind degetele mişcându-se în felul cunoscut. Mâna dreaptă, răscumpărând parcă greşeala comisă, execută acum un tremolo inutil. Degetele mi se mişcă incredibil de repede. Ating corzi imaginare. Ca foarfeca frizerului: după ce se desprinde pentru o
clipă de păr, continuă să tundă – aerul. În timp ce mă apropii de aeroportul Charles de Gaulle, bat în geam melodia prost interpretată: nimic complicat. Cum de m-am poticnit în concert?
March 7, 2020
Un fel de telenovela rusească/ucraineană, dar care mi-a plăcut foarte mult. Iar modul de scriere al capitolelor, intercalate trecut-prezent, și uneori și cu conexiuni directe în prezent a capitolului anterior din trecut, sunt foarte faine. Nu se termina așa cum mi-aș fi dorit eu, dar măcar e ca în viața, când nu poți avea chiar tot ce-ți dorești.
January 14, 2019
До сих пор возмущена
June 21, 2024
Ritmo narrativo
Dall’autore di due eccellenti romanzi come “Lauro” e “L’aviatore”, dotati dei due indimenticabili protagonisti che ne determinano i rispettivi titoli, era lecito aspettarsi qualcosa di meglio.
“Brisbane”, unico altro libro di Vodolazkin tradotto in Italia e posteriore ai due citati, narra la storia di Gleb, musicista di grande fama, lungo due linee temporali: il presente all’apice della carriera ma intaccato dal manifestarsi di una malattia destinata a minarne il talento e l’esistenza stessa ed il passato, negli anni ’70, ’80 e ’90 dove la penna del biografo si cimenta con l’apprendistato di Gleb e il suo farsi strada nel mondo della musica e in parallelo nelle esperienze della vita.
A favore del romanzo giocano la profonda analisi del significato dei suoni, che determinano il ritmo narrativo e accompagnano le emozioni, gli avvenimenti e i sentimenti come in una sinfonia o una semplice ballata, e il finale del racconto, scandito da un crescendo di notevole impatto emotivo in cui finalmente si manifesta la capacità dell’autore di evocare atmosfere trascinanti.
Ma la parte centrale del libro è purtroppo monotona, con episodi scarsamente avvincenti in cui Vodolazkin si dilunga in situazioni e personaggi poveri di interesse e che lasciano tracce inconsistenti nella memoria, a differenza delle sue opere precedenti di cui rammento tuttora diversi particolari e svolte narrative.
Sullo sfondo di “Brisbane” compare anche un richiamo alla situazione russo-ucraina (al di sopra di ogni sospetto di opportunismo, poiché il romanzo è del 2018), in quanto Gleb originario di Kiev trascorre parte della sua vita a Leningrado/Pietroburgo rimarcando i contrasti fra le due culture, finanche nella pronuncia dei termini e del resto Volodazkin stesso, come ricorda il risvolto di copertina, è nato a Kiev ma vive a San Pietroburgo.
Il titolo “Brisbane” è in parte metaforico, una città australiana dove infine la madre del protagonista va a vivere, ma per tutta la durata del romanzo rappresenta un luogo immaginario, una via di fuga dove i sogni possono ancora materializzarsi, a differenza della triste e malinconica realtà sovietica.
Dall’autore di due eccellenti romanzi come “Lauro” e “L’aviatore”, dotati dei due indimenticabili protagonisti che ne determinano i rispettivi titoli, era lecito aspettarsi qualcosa di meglio.
“Brisbane”, unico altro libro di Vodolazkin tradotto in Italia e posteriore ai due citati, narra la storia di Gleb, musicista di grande fama, lungo due linee temporali: il presente all’apice della carriera ma intaccato dal manifestarsi di una malattia destinata a minarne il talento e l’esistenza stessa ed il passato, negli anni ’70, ’80 e ’90 dove la penna del biografo si cimenta con l’apprendistato di Gleb e il suo farsi strada nel mondo della musica e in parallelo nelle esperienze della vita.
A favore del romanzo giocano la profonda analisi del significato dei suoni, che determinano il ritmo narrativo e accompagnano le emozioni, gli avvenimenti e i sentimenti come in una sinfonia o una semplice ballata, e il finale del racconto, scandito da un crescendo di notevole impatto emotivo in cui finalmente si manifesta la capacità dell’autore di evocare atmosfere trascinanti.
Ma la parte centrale del libro è purtroppo monotona, con episodi scarsamente avvincenti in cui Vodolazkin si dilunga in situazioni e personaggi poveri di interesse e che lasciano tracce inconsistenti nella memoria, a differenza delle sue opere precedenti di cui rammento tuttora diversi particolari e svolte narrative.
Sullo sfondo di “Brisbane” compare anche un richiamo alla situazione russo-ucraina (al di sopra di ogni sospetto di opportunismo, poiché il romanzo è del 2018), in quanto Gleb originario di Kiev trascorre parte della sua vita a Leningrado/Pietroburgo rimarcando i contrasti fra le due culture, finanche nella pronuncia dei termini e del resto Volodazkin stesso, come ricorda il risvolto di copertina, è nato a Kiev ma vive a San Pietroburgo.
Il titolo “Brisbane” è in parte metaforico, una città australiana dove infine la madre del protagonista va a vivere, ma per tutta la durata del romanzo rappresenta un luogo immaginario, una via di fuga dove i sogni possono ancora materializzarsi, a differenza della triste e malinconica realtà sovietica.
January 26, 2020
Doar 4 stele pt cele cateva pagini de propaganda anti-Maidan. In rest o carte minunata. Mie mi-a placut mai mult decat Laur.
Ce am gasit înălțător?
Acea nopte de an nou de la sfarsitul anilor 1970 pe care Gleb o petrece cu RDG-ista Katarina in caminul pustiu al Universitatii din Leningrad. Peste cativa ani, atunci cand se vor casatori, ea isi va lua numele de Katerina (Katia) si nu se vor desparti pana la sfarsitul cartii (care e plasat in 2014). Si cealalta scena de dragoste care se consumase cativa ani mai devreme, in perioda in care Gled era elev la scoala de muzica din Kiev si se indragosteste brusc de violoncelista Anna. Anna il ia pe Gleb in seara aceea acasa pentru ca parintii ei erau plecati din oras. Se va muta cu familia la Moscova si ii va da papucii baiatului atunci cand acesta va pleca dupa ea vreo doua zile cu trenul ca sa-i declare ca fara ea nu se poate. O sa reapara, peste 30 de ani, cand Gleb devenise un music star de valoare mondiala ca sa-i ceara ajutorul pentru un tratament medical foarte scump pentru feta ei in varsta de 14 ani, Vera, care era o pianista superdotata ci care va da apoi un concert impreuna cu Gleb ls Carnagie Hall din New York. Acest concert este dupa parerea mea partea cea mai reusita a romanului.
Care e fraza cu care am ramas din aceasta carte a lui Vodolazkin? Citez apoximativ: in arta, e mai bine sa nu zici totul, decat sa sa adaugi ceva in plus.
Ce am gasit înălțător?
Acea nopte de an nou de la sfarsitul anilor 1970 pe care Gleb o petrece cu RDG-ista Katarina in caminul pustiu al Universitatii din Leningrad. Peste cativa ani, atunci cand se vor casatori, ea isi va lua numele de Katerina (Katia) si nu se vor desparti pana la sfarsitul cartii (care e plasat in 2014). Si cealalta scena de dragoste care se consumase cativa ani mai devreme, in perioda in care Gled era elev la scoala de muzica din Kiev si se indragosteste brusc de violoncelista Anna. Anna il ia pe Gleb in seara aceea acasa pentru ca parintii ei erau plecati din oras. Se va muta cu familia la Moscova si ii va da papucii baiatului atunci cand acesta va pleca dupa ea vreo doua zile cu trenul ca sa-i declare ca fara ea nu se poate. O sa reapara, peste 30 de ani, cand Gleb devenise un music star de valoare mondiala ca sa-i ceara ajutorul pentru un tratament medical foarte scump pentru feta ei in varsta de 14 ani, Vera, care era o pianista superdotata ci care va da apoi un concert impreuna cu Gleb ls Carnagie Hall din New York. Acest concert este dupa parerea mea partea cea mai reusita a romanului.
Care e fraza cu care am ramas din aceasta carte a lui Vodolazkin? Citez apoximativ: in arta, e mai bine sa nu zici totul, decat sa sa adaugi ceva in plus.
May 5, 2023
This novel tells the story of Gleb, a musician who is raised in Ukraine and lives in Ukraine, Russia and Germany (one parent is Ukrainian and one is Russian). Gleb is a guitarist. We see in detail as his musical talent is noticed as a child, as he develops as a musician during his education and as he becomes world famous as a guitarist. A great deal of the novel is devoted to music. At the height of his career, Gleb is diagnosed with Parkinson’s and loses control over his hands – and as a result his ability to perform or play guitar. The story is told by two people and in two voices: one is Gleb’s and one is his biographer’s. This creates an interesting structure for the novel. The novel contained numerous descriptions of daily life in Soviet Ukraine and Russia (and, of course, the conflict between the two), which I always enjoy. There were also some very interesting scenes related to being a world famous musician. The underlying themes included facing the loss of what a person considers his “whole life” – that is, Gleb’s loss of the use of his hands. There is also the interaction and conflict between Gleb’s story and that of his biographer. This was a well done novel, but for me it was very slow. It was another novel that for me took a long time to get where it was going.
April 27, 2022
This is a profoundly deep book. I loved the musical literary cadence, the rise and fall of this lovely musician's life. This is the fourth book that I've read by this author and hopefully there will be more translations of his work ahead. There were some sections of the book where I struggled a bit, mostly due to a lack of understanding of Russian history and society. But the majority of the book was fascinating and promoted much thought on life and death. It's a rather hard book to review since there are so many levels involved. Suffice it to say that I highly recommend it.
This book was won by me in a giveaway.
This book was won by me in a giveaway.
June 15, 2022
There is a Gilbert K. Chesterton quote that says, "The traveler sees what he sees.The tourist sees what he has come to see", that I think captures how Vodolazkin writes. Vodolazkin treats his readers as travelers. He takes us on a journey, and we pick up on what we see and whatever meaning we find there. And it works just perfectly, because after finishing any of his novels, you feel that you've visited new cities and had a few meals with the locals. You get a real sense of the people who live there. You've lived with them. We read and understand what it means to be simultaneously Russian and Ukrainian.
February 23, 2019
This book will start slow, but don't let it fool you. It will knock you off your feet.
Evgeny Vodolazkin is, by all means, a master of words and one of the most, if not the most, brilliant authors of the modern Russian literature.
This is my second book by Vodolazkin, and now, more than ever, I'm determined to read everything he has ever written.
Evgeny Vodolazkin is, by all means, a master of words and one of the most, if not the most, brilliant authors of the modern Russian literature.
This is my second book by Vodolazkin, and now, more than ever, I'm determined to read everything he has ever written.
October 10, 2021
Давно не читала книжку так долго! Я люблю хрустальный, почти античный язык Водолазкина, и такой же хрустальный юмор. Если вам понравились «Лавр» и «Авиатор» (я обожаю «Лавра»), то вам и «Брисбен» понравится. Да, диалоги тоже бывают хрустальными и античными, и это не всегда диалогам на пользу, но меня это не смущало.
April 25, 2019
Очень странная книга.
Мне очень нравится слог Евгения Водолазкина. Мне нравится, как подобраны слова, как они сложены в предложения. Мне нравится язык. Но с сюжетом отношения сложились сложно объяснимые. С одной стороны, хотелось читать дальше, чтобы узнать продолжение истории. С другой стороны, чем дальше читала, тем больше сомневалась, зачем я это читаю.
Главный герой - не очень выдающийся человек. Но, может, в этом есть определенный смысл. Ведь есть сотни людей с похожим недугом, и каждый справляется по-своему. Мне немного не хватило какой-то психологической составляющей. Хотелось больше о том, что происходит в душе у главного героя и его близких и меньше биографии. Хотелось больше о том, как Глеб принимает свою болезнь, помогая Вере. Хотелось больше узнать о Кате и ее проблеме, о ее мыслях и переживаниях. Вот этого всего мне было мало.
Не могу сказать, что биографические главы было неинтересно читать. В целом этм главы позволяют узнать Глеба и Катю лучше, но это не совсем то, что узнать очень хотелось. Главы, написанные от лица Глеба, читать было интереснее.
Не совсем понятно, зачем вставлены диалоги на украинском. Никакого художественого приёма, что-либо усиливающее, подчеркивающее в романе они не несут. Опять же, на мой взгляд. Читать их в целом не сложно, но не понятно, зачем они там вообще есть, почему нельзя было по-русски. Отдельные слова переведены и общий смысл понятен, но зачем нужны эти украинские диалоги - мне не вполне ясно.
В целом роман оставил хорошее впечатление, но это одна из книг, которые я не стану перечитывать и через какое-то время не сильно вспомню дет��ли романа.
Мне очень нравится слог Евгения Водолазкина. Мне нравится, как подобраны слова, как они сложены в предложения. Мне нравится язык. Но с сюжетом отношения сложились сложно объяснимые. С одной стороны, хотелось читать дальше, чтобы узнать продолжение истории. С другой стороны, чем дальше читала, тем больше сомневалась, зачем я это читаю.
Главный герой - не очень выдающийся человек. Но, может, в этом есть определенный смысл. Ведь есть сотни людей с похожим недугом, и каждый справляется по-своему. Мне немного не хватило какой-то психологической составляющей. Хотелось больше о том, что происходит в душе у главного героя и его близких и меньше биографии. Хотелось больше о том, как Глеб принимает свою болезнь, помогая Вере. Хотелось больше узнать о Кате и ее проблеме, о ее мыслях и переживаниях. Вот этого всего мне было мало.
Не могу сказать, что биографические главы было неинтересно читать. В целом этм главы позволяют узнать Глеба и Катю лучше, но это не совсем то, что узнать очень хотелось. Главы, написанные от лица Глеба, читать было интереснее.
Не совсем понятно, зачем вставлены диалоги на украинском. Никакого художественого приёма, что-либо усиливающее, подчеркивающее в романе они не несут. Опять же, на мой взгляд. Читать их в целом не сложно, но не понятно, зачем они там вообще есть, почему нельзя было по-русски. Отдельные слова переведены и общий смысл понятен, но зачем нужны эти украинские диалоги - мне не вполне ясно.
В целом роман оставил хорошее впечатление, но это одна из книг, которые я не стану перечитывать и через какое-то время не сильно вспомню дет��ли романа.
January 30, 2022
не знаю, в книге дело или во мне, но в 400+-страничном повествовании о самых разных людях меня не задело ровным счетом ничего. так случилось, что посреди чтения я по прихоти перечитала "Сирано" Ростана - и вот эти-то далекие по времени и месту, да еще переводные, персонажи до сих пор вызывают неподдельные чувства. можно было бы написать о конкретных недостатках "Брисбена", об авторских самоповторах в приемах, о недорисованных и брошенных образах, но главное - то, что в этой книге для меня ничего не было живого.
April 28, 2019
Третья и, пожалуй, последняя книга Водолазкина, которую я прочитала. С одной стороны, мне действительно нравится, КАК он пишет. Но содержание, сюжет — одно большое «НЕ ВЕРЮ». Ну очень слащавая книжка.
Из её плюсов — я узнала больше об украинской музыке.
Из её плюсов — я узнала больше об украинской музыке.
January 8, 2019
Водолазкин по-прежнему идеальный. А вот почему-то не тронуло.
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