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The Ebony Tower
An extraordinary work of fiction, from one of the world's most exceptional writers.
A journalist visits an elderly painter and becomes intrigued by his young female companions. Four years' worth of book research is set on fire in front of a writer. A successful MP disappears without a trace.
Written with stylistic innovation, this sequence of novellas exploring the nature of art echoes the themes and preoccupations of Fowles' earlier work and cements his position as a master storyteller.
A journalist visits an elderly painter and becomes intrigued by his young female companions. Four years' worth of book research is set on fire in front of a writer. A successful MP disappears without a trace.
Written with stylistic innovation, this sequence of novellas exploring the nature of art echoes the themes and preoccupations of Fowles' earlier work and cements his position as a master storyteller.
304 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1974
132 people are currently reading
3186 people want to read
About the author
John Fowles
115 books3,010 followersJohn Robert Fowles was born in Leigh-on-Sea, a small town in Essex. He recalled the English suburban culture of the 1930s as oppressively conformist and his family life as intensely conventional. Of his childhood, Fowles said "I have tried to escape ever since."
Fowles attended Bedford School, a large boarding school designed to prepare boys for university, from ages 13 to 18. After briefly attending the University of Edinburgh, Fowles began compulsory military service in 1945 with training at Dartmoor, where he spent the next two years. World War II ended shortly after his training began so Fowles never came near combat, and by 1947 he had decided that the military life was not for him.
Fowles then spent four years at Oxford, where he discovered the writings of the French existentialists. In particular he admired Albert Camus and Jean-Paul Sartre, whose writings corresponded with his own ideas about conformity and the will of the individual. He received a degree in French in 1950 and began to consider a career as a writer.
Several teaching jobs followed: a year lecturing in English literature at the University of Poitiers, France; two years teaching English at Anargyrios College on the Greek island of Spetsai; and finally, between 1954 and 1963, teaching English at St. Godric's College in London, where he ultimately served as the department head.
The time spent in Greece was of great importance to Fowles. During his tenure on the island he began to write poetry and to overcome a long-time repression about writing. Between 1952 and 1960 he wrote several novels but offered none to a publisher, considering them all incomplete in some way and too lengthy.
In late 1960 Fowles completed the first draft of The Collector in just four weeks. He continued to revise it until the summer of 1962, when he submitted it to a publisher; it appeared in the spring of 1963 and was an immediate best-seller. The critical acclaim and commercial success of the book allowed Fowles to devote all of his time to writing.
The Aristos, a collection of philosophical thoughts and musings on art, human nature and other subjects, appeared the following year. Then in 1965, The Magus - drafts of which Fowles had been working on for over a decade - was published.
The most commercially successful of Fowles' novels, The French Lieutenant's Woman, appeared in 1969. It resembles a Victorian novel in structure and detail, while pushing the traditional boundaries of narrative in a very modern manner.
In the 1970s Fowles worked on a variety of literary projects--including a series of essays on nature--and in 1973 he published a collection of poetry, Poems.
Daniel Martin, a long and somewhat autobiographical novel spanning over 40 years in the life of a screenwriter, appeared in 1977, along with a revised version of The Magus. These were followed by Mantissa (1982), a fable about a novelist's struggle with his muse; and A Maggot (1985), an 18th century mystery which combines science fiction and history.
In addition to The Aristos, Fowles wrote a variety of non-fiction pieces including many essays, reviews, and forewords/afterwords to other writers' novels. He also wrote the text for several photographic compilations.
From 1968, Fowles lived in the small harbour town of Lyme Regis, Dorset. His interest in the town's local history resulted in his appointment as curator of the Lyme Regis Museum in 1979, a position he filled for a decade.
Wormholes, a book of essays, was published in May 1998. The first comprehensive biography on Fowles, John Fowles: A Life in Two Worlds, was published in 2004, and the first volume of his journals appeared the same year (followed recently by volume two).
John Fowles passed away on November 5, 2005 after a long illness.
Fowles attended Bedford School, a large boarding school designed to prepare boys for university, from ages 13 to 18. After briefly attending the University of Edinburgh, Fowles began compulsory military service in 1945 with training at Dartmoor, where he spent the next two years. World War II ended shortly after his training began so Fowles never came near combat, and by 1947 he had decided that the military life was not for him.
Fowles then spent four years at Oxford, where he discovered the writings of the French existentialists. In particular he admired Albert Camus and Jean-Paul Sartre, whose writings corresponded with his own ideas about conformity and the will of the individual. He received a degree in French in 1950 and began to consider a career as a writer.
Several teaching jobs followed: a year lecturing in English literature at the University of Poitiers, France; two years teaching English at Anargyrios College on the Greek island of Spetsai; and finally, between 1954 and 1963, teaching English at St. Godric's College in London, where he ultimately served as the department head.
The time spent in Greece was of great importance to Fowles. During his tenure on the island he began to write poetry and to overcome a long-time repression about writing. Between 1952 and 1960 he wrote several novels but offered none to a publisher, considering them all incomplete in some way and too lengthy.
In late 1960 Fowles completed the first draft of The Collector in just four weeks. He continued to revise it until the summer of 1962, when he submitted it to a publisher; it appeared in the spring of 1963 and was an immediate best-seller. The critical acclaim and commercial success of the book allowed Fowles to devote all of his time to writing.
The Aristos, a collection of philosophical thoughts and musings on art, human nature and other subjects, appeared the following year. Then in 1965, The Magus - drafts of which Fowles had been working on for over a decade - was published.
The most commercially successful of Fowles' novels, The French Lieutenant's Woman, appeared in 1969. It resembles a Victorian novel in structure and detail, while pushing the traditional boundaries of narrative in a very modern manner.
In the 1970s Fowles worked on a variety of literary projects--including a series of essays on nature--and in 1973 he published a collection of poetry, Poems.
Daniel Martin, a long and somewhat autobiographical novel spanning over 40 years in the life of a screenwriter, appeared in 1977, along with a revised version of The Magus. These were followed by Mantissa (1982), a fable about a novelist's struggle with his muse; and A Maggot (1985), an 18th century mystery which combines science fiction and history.
In addition to The Aristos, Fowles wrote a variety of non-fiction pieces including many essays, reviews, and forewords/afterwords to other writers' novels. He also wrote the text for several photographic compilations.
From 1968, Fowles lived in the small harbour town of Lyme Regis, Dorset. His interest in the town's local history resulted in his appointment as curator of the Lyme Regis Museum in 1979, a position he filled for a decade.
Wormholes, a book of essays, was published in May 1998. The first comprehensive biography on Fowles, John Fowles: A Life in Two Worlds, was published in 2004, and the first volume of his journals appeared the same year (followed recently by volume two).
John Fowles passed away on November 5, 2005 after a long illness.
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July 25, 2018Speed dating with books 3/6
Since I am moving my books from one room to another and building a new bookcase I realized (again) that I have way too many unread books. I decided to choose 6 (for the beginning) of the ones waiting on my shelves for a long time or that I do not know if I would like, read 50 pages and decide if I want to continue with them or send them away. This week and the next I will share with you the results.
The Ebony Tower is a collection of novellas by John Fowles. I was gifted this short book by my aunt back in 2003 because she knew I enjoyed the author. Actually, two of his works ( The Collector and The Magus) are among my favorites and Mantissa received 4*. Even then, I wasn't a big fan of short stories so I postponed my immersion in this collection. Since 15 years have passed and I still had this in my library I said to give it a try. I read one of the novellas which was exactly 50 pages long but it did not impress me enough to make me continue with the other titles. As such, this one goes as well.
Since I am moving my books from one room to another and building a new bookcase I realized (again) that I have way too many unread books. I decided to choose 6 (for the beginning) of the ones waiting on my shelves for a long time or that I do not know if I would like, read 50 pages and decide if I want to continue with them or send them away. This week and the next I will share with you the results.
The Ebony Tower is a collection of novellas by John Fowles. I was gifted this short book by my aunt back in 2003 because she knew I enjoyed the author. Actually, two of his works ( The Collector and The Magus) are among my favorites and Mantissa received 4*. Even then, I wasn't a big fan of short stories so I postponed my immersion in this collection. Since 15 years have passed and I still had this in my library I said to give it a try. I read one of the novellas which was exactly 50 pages long but it did not impress me enough to make me continue with the other titles. As such, this one goes as well.
January 9, 2021
Estoy convencido de que Fowles, de ser él el encargado de escribírmelas, conseguiría que cada factura de la luz que me llegara fuera única y apasionante. Tres eran las obras que de él llevaba leídas y las tres no pueden ser más diferentes: desde su thriller psicológico “El coleccionista”, pasando por el victorianismo postmoderno de “La mujer del teniente francés”, hasta su incalificable y genial “El mago”, todas ellas reflejan la gran versatilidad del autor, su erudición sin grandilocuencia, su genio. Todas ellas combinan sabiamente la profundidad y la agudeza con un estilo claro y elegante y todas ellas manifiestan el gusto del autor por el misterio, el desconcierto y la ambigüedad.
En estos relatos que componen “La torre de ébano” se puede encontrar la misma diversidad y algunos de los elementos narrativos de todas las obras mencionadas. Sin alcanzar su maestría, todos brillan a gran altura destacando el que da título al libro (a pesar de una escena de amor que me pareció un tanto cursi… tan cursi como cualquiera de la que no seamos protagonistas).
En la novela corta que es "La torre de ébano”, David Williams visita al excéntrico, seductor e irascible Henry Breasley en su solitaria casa de campo de la Bretaña francesa. Allí se adentra en un idílico paisaje en el que el famoso y anciano pintor se encuentra acompañado de dos jovencitas que parecen estar a su servicio, a cualquier servicio, y que le dispensan un frío recibimiento. Una atmósfera inquietante, un misterio latente, amor y deseo, aventura o seguridad, el inicio de un viaje de autoconocimiento. Para quien haya leído “El mago”, estoy seguro que todo lo dicho le recordará muy mucho a la famosa novela.
En la torre leeremos mucho sobre la cuestión del arte contemporáneo y el enfrentamiento de sus dos protagonistas, un pintor representativo, Breasley, y un pintor abstracto, David Williams. También sabremos del conflicto que corre paralelo a sus diferentes concepciones vitales: la pasión y el compromiso del primero, “un viejo sátiro en zapatillas, sonriendo con suficiencia y echando pestes con gran satisfacción sobre cualquier atisbo de sentido común y sobre todos los cálculos", tal y como aparece en un sueño de Williams, que, a su vez, es visto por Breasley como el representante del arte como institución social, una disciplina objeto de debates en comités y dirigida a intelectos constructores de teorías, “no para la gente ni, lo que es aun más grave, para uno mismo”.
En el centro de esta discusión, poco a poco, se va erigiendo la figura de una de las jóvenes, Ratón (un juego de palabras entre mouse y muse), y por la que David se verá inmerso en una lucha interior, en un descubrimiento de sí mismo y por la que se asomará a “algo más que la realidad de ser: la pasión de existir”.
December 6, 2019
exquisitely written bourgeois entertainment. perhaps not the edifying exploration of emotion, identity, and human nature that the author intended - and rather a comedown after my excellent experience with his brilliant A Maggot - but a pleasant trifle nonetheless. Fowles has a beautiful hand with the prose; his characterization is deep and nuanced but unfortunately the characters themselves are quite uninteresting, so rather sadly it will be all those pretty sentences strung together that I will mainly remember.
"The Ebony Tower" - 2 stars. Fowles explores the outer life of an elderly painter and celebrated enfant terrible of the art scene, and the inner life of the artist and critic tasked with interviewing him. as noted, characterization was rich and real. unfortunately, I have scarce interest in the life of a tantrum-prone, drunken lecher and even less interest in an angst-filled critic contemplating an affair. the ebony tower of the title is an idea, and a malleable one at that: to the older gent, it is a terrible place where lives art that is all thinking and not feeling; to the younger, it is the dark gulf that lies between what he should do (stay true to his loving, talented wife) and what he wants to do (fuck that young art student living with the older gent). my ebony tower is a place where I'd like to send both characters.
"Eliduc" - 1 star. Fowles recounts a medieval tale of a faithless knight torn between his loving wife and the ardent young lady he'd like to make his own. the story appears to be a self-serving justification for even exploring the conflict of "The Ebony Tower" in the first place. the writing itself is surprisingly lackluster so this was a tedious slog.
"The Enigma" - 4 stars. this is the gem of the collection. an older writer finds himself the captive of an enigmatic young thief who proves to be intelligent, political, disinterested in physically tormenting his cowardly prey, and yet who ends up dealing out the most sadistic punishment imaginable for a writer just about to finish up his labour of love - a book four years in the making about 19th century author Thomas Love Peacock (had to LOL at the choice of subject). the enigma in question is "why would the young man do such a terrible thing - and, dear me, why ever would he flash a thumbs up sign after doing it?" although this wasn't the most absorbing of things to contemplate, Fowles does such a superb job at showing us who this writer is, and he does it so mordantly, that I was fascinated, almost against my will. and when the terrible deed does occur, I found my reactions to be just as horrified as the author, when my inner anarchist should have rejoiced. it is hard to rejoice though when the creative work of even the most bourgeois of writers is mercilessly destroyed. apparently I am not so allied with the revolution after all - off with my head!
"The Cloud" - 3 stars. although featuring the same sorts of characters indulging themselves in the same sort of maudlin navel-gazing present throughout the book, this novella was the most beautifully written of the collection and ended on a disturbingly ambiguous note that was much to my liking. it recounts a balmy afternoon during a vacation in the south of France (of course): five men and women discussing their perspectives on life and art, making occasional feints and jabs at each other, all quite civilized, while one of them is slowly imploding on the inside. vaguely annoying but there were many lovely flights of prose and several rather interesting moments - overall, it was much like the book that contained it.
"The Ebony Tower" - 2 stars. Fowles explores the outer life of an elderly painter and celebrated enfant terrible of the art scene, and the inner life of the artist and critic tasked with interviewing him. as noted, characterization was rich and real. unfortunately, I have scarce interest in the life of a tantrum-prone, drunken lecher and even less interest in an angst-filled critic contemplating an affair. the ebony tower of the title is an idea, and a malleable one at that: to the older gent, it is a terrible place where lives art that is all thinking and not feeling; to the younger, it is the dark gulf that lies between what he should do (stay true to his loving, talented wife) and what he wants to do (fuck that young art student living with the older gent). my ebony tower is a place where I'd like to send both characters.
"Eliduc" - 1 star. Fowles recounts a medieval tale of a faithless knight torn between his loving wife and the ardent young lady he'd like to make his own. the story appears to be a self-serving justification for even exploring the conflict of "The Ebony Tower" in the first place. the writing itself is surprisingly lackluster so this was a tedious slog.
"The Enigma" - 4 stars. this is the gem of the collection. an older writer finds himself the captive of an enigmatic young thief who proves to be intelligent, political, disinterested in physically tormenting his cowardly prey, and yet who ends up dealing out the most sadistic punishment imaginable for a writer just about to finish up his labour of love - a book four years in the making about 19th century author Thomas Love Peacock (had to LOL at the choice of subject). the enigma in question is "why would the young man do such a terrible thing - and, dear me, why ever would he flash a thumbs up sign after doing it?" although this wasn't the most absorbing of things to contemplate, Fowles does such a superb job at showing us who this writer is, and he does it so mordantly, that I was fascinated, almost against my will. and when the terrible deed does occur, I found my reactions to be just as horrified as the author, when my inner anarchist should have rejoiced. it is hard to rejoice though when the creative work of even the most bourgeois of writers is mercilessly destroyed. apparently I am not so allied with the revolution after all - off with my head!
"The Cloud" - 3 stars. although featuring the same sorts of characters indulging themselves in the same sort of maudlin navel-gazing present throughout the book, this novella was the most beautifully written of the collection and ended on a disturbingly ambiguous note that was much to my liking. it recounts a balmy afternoon during a vacation in the south of France (of course): five men and women discussing their perspectives on life and art, making occasional feints and jabs at each other, all quite civilized, while one of them is slowly imploding on the inside. vaguely annoying but there were many lovely flights of prose and several rather interesting moments - overall, it was much like the book that contained it.
November 27, 2017
“Abanoz Kule” Fowles’ın 1974’te, üç büyük romanınından sonra (Koleksiyoncu, Büyücü, Fransız Teğmenin Kadını) kaleme aldığı, her satırını o zamana kadarki edebiyatına göndermelerle süslediği, acayip zengin bir eser. Türkçede ilk olarak 1990 senesinde İletişim Yayınları tarafından basılmış; 2008’de Ayrıntı Yayınları’na geçmiş ve bildiğimiz baskısıyla kitapçılarda bulunmaya başlamış.
Kitapta bir kısa roman, dört tane de öykü bulunmakta. Kitaba ismini veren ‘Abanoz Kule’ isimli kısa romanı okurken yine Fowles’ın dehasına hayran kaldığımı söylemek istiyorum. Fowles, okurken en çok zevk aldığım yazarların başında gelir ve her cümlesinin yoğun bir entelektüel birikimin yansıması olduğunu fark etmenin hazzını, bir okur olarak zevkle duyumsarım . “Büyücü”yü okuyanlar buna şahit olmuşlardır zaten. İşte kitabın ‘Abanoz Kule’ bölümü de benzer yoğunlukta ve aynı edebi seçkinliğe sahip. Aynı zamanda “Büyücü” ile bilinçli bir benzerlik (hatta ön izleme) taşıdığı da fark edilirken; bu kez konunun tamamen sanat üzerinden işlenmesi, örgünün bendeki etkisini kat be kat arttırdı.
İkinci öykü ‘Eliduc’, 12.yy yazarlarından Maria de France’ın yazdığı, Fowles’ın çevirip esere dahil ettiği bir parça. Bir kelt öyküsü olan bu hikaye, 12.yy’da yazılmış ‘lai’ isimli özel bir türe ait geleneksel bir aşk hikayesi. Fowles’ın çeşitlemelerinin içerisine bunu koymakla vermeye çalıştığı mesajı tam anlayamamakla birlikte, kitaptaki en az sevdiğim bölümün burası olduğunu söyleyebilirim.
Ardından gelen ‘Zavallı Koko’ ve ‘Muamma’ isimli öyküler ise şaheser. Michael Haneke filmlerinden alışık olduğumuz soğukkanlı bir eleştirinin edebiyattaki eşdeğeri resmen. Okurken hikayenin ritmine tamamen dahil olurken diğer yandan acımasızca yöneltilen eleştirilerle, özdeşleşme sınırında muhatap olunan rahatsız edici öyküler. Fowles ‘Tanrı’ rolünden vazgeçmiyor ve öykülerin en can alıcı yerlerinde bir anda merkezde kendini var ediyor. Tam özdeşleşmeyle en olasılıklı ilişki kurulmuşken, bıçak gibi yabancılaşma darbesi hem sizi hem de öyküyü kesiyor. Özellikle ‘Muamma’nın sonu bence çok başarılı bir yazarın elinden çıkabilecek hamlelerle örülmüş.
Son öykü ‘Bulut’ ise benim yine mesafeli durduğum ve fazla özümseyemediğim bölümlerden biri. Salingervari bir anlatıma sahip olan öykü aynı zamanda şiddetli bir Rainer Werner Fassbinder filmi havasına sahip. Marguerite Duras’ın eleştirel içeriğiyle, Salinger’ın diyaloglarını; Fassbinder görselliği üzerinde düşünün. Öyküyü bu hissiyatla okudum ve teknik açıdan başarılı bulmama rağmen kişisel olarak keyif alamadım.
Fowles cidden gerçek bir yetenek. Aceleye getirmeden, keyifle okunmalı. Anglofililik ile incecik bir bağ kurabilirsem zorlamayla, bunun edebiyat kolunu Fowles sağlayacaktır, eminim. Okumanızı tavsiye ederim.
İyi okumalar!
Not: 4 verme sebebim, yazarın diğer eserlerine duyduğum saygıdandır.
8.5/10
Kitapta bir kısa roman, dört tane de öykü bulunmakta. Kitaba ismini veren ‘Abanoz Kule’ isimli kısa romanı okurken yine Fowles’ın dehasına hayran kaldığımı söylemek istiyorum. Fowles, okurken en çok zevk aldığım yazarların başında gelir ve her cümlesinin yoğun bir entelektüel birikimin yansıması olduğunu fark etmenin hazzını, bir okur olarak zevkle duyumsarım . “Büyücü”yü okuyanlar buna şahit olmuşlardır zaten. İşte kitabın ‘Abanoz Kule’ bölümü de benzer yoğunlukta ve aynı edebi seçkinliğe sahip. Aynı zamanda “Büyücü” ile bilinçli bir benzerlik (hatta ön izleme) taşıdığı da fark edilirken; bu kez konunun tamamen sanat üzerinden işlenmesi, örgünün bendeki etkisini kat be kat arttırdı.
İkinci öykü ‘Eliduc’, 12.yy yazarlarından Maria de France’ın yazdığı, Fowles’ın çevirip esere dahil ettiği bir parça. Bir kelt öyküsü olan bu hikaye, 12.yy’da yazılmış ‘lai’ isimli özel bir türe ait geleneksel bir aşk hikayesi. Fowles’ın çeşitlemelerinin içerisine bunu koymakla vermeye çalıştığı mesajı tam anlayamamakla birlikte, kitaptaki en az sevdiğim bölümün burası olduğunu söyleyebilirim.
Ardından gelen ‘Zavallı Koko’ ve ‘Muamma’ isimli öyküler ise şaheser. Michael Haneke filmlerinden alışık olduğumuz soğukkanlı bir eleştirinin edebiyattaki eşdeğeri resmen. Okurken hikayenin ritmine tamamen dahil olurken diğer yandan acımasızca yöneltilen eleştirilerle, özdeşleşme sınırında muhatap olunan rahatsız edici öyküler. Fowles ‘Tanrı’ rolünden vazgeçmiyor ve öykülerin en can alıcı yerlerinde bir anda merkezde kendini var ediyor. Tam özdeşleşmeyle en olasılıklı ilişki kurulmuşken, bıçak gibi yabancılaşma darbesi hem sizi hem de öyküyü kesiyor. Özellikle ‘Muamma’nın sonu bence çok başarılı bir yazarın elinden çıkabilecek hamlelerle örülmüş.
Son öykü ‘Bulut’ ise benim yine mesafeli durduğum ve fazla özümseyemediğim bölümlerden biri. Salingervari bir anlatıma sahip olan öykü aynı zamanda şiddetli bir Rainer Werner Fassbinder filmi havasına sahip. Marguerite Duras’ın eleştirel içeriğiyle, Salinger’ın diyaloglarını; Fassbinder görselliği üzerinde düşünün. Öyküyü bu hissiyatla okudum ve teknik açıdan başarılı bulmama rağmen kişisel olarak keyif alamadım.
Fowles cidden gerçek bir yetenek. Aceleye getirmeden, keyifle okunmalı. Anglofililik ile incecik bir bağ kurabilirsem zorlamayla, bunun edebiyat kolunu Fowles sağlayacaktır, eminim. Okumanızı tavsiye ederim.
İyi okumalar!
Not: 4 verme sebebim, yazarın diğer eserlerine duyduğum saygıdandır.
8.5/10
August 16, 2022
By itself, the presence of a wealth not make a person a creator, but the latter's independence from the mass of incoming factors is very conducive. The absence, you know, of the need to earn bread by the sweat of your brow.
And the opportunity to create an earthly paradise on one single piece of land. The cozy big house is hung with paintings. The sale of one of the hundreds bought at one time the acquisition of this castle and putting it in order. Devoted servants. The storerooms are bursting with food, the wine gleams with gold and ruby in the cellars. There is a forest all around, not dense, but the inhabitants of the manor are spared from the annoying neighborhood.
And two girls who are free from prejudice. So free that they walk around nude most of the time. Not sluts, mind you - art critics. And the owner of all this luxury is a world-renowned artist, a buka, a hermit. An old man who creates amazing paintings in his old age.
За границей не блуди, в чистоте себя блюди.
Там дальше совет не мешаться в разговоры и знакомств не заводить. Но это герою никак невозможно, потому - за разговорами и знакомствами едет. Каков главный фактор, определяющий величие творца? Культовые произведения в его фильмо-, библиографии или выставочном каталоге? Обласканность критикой? Многочисленные призы и награды? Творческое долголетие? Ну, от всего понемногу. Но главное - он должен быть богат.
Фи, как не комильфо, надо чтобы агнцы отдельно, козлищи отдельно. Котлеты в одну сторону, мух - в другую.. А вот и нет. Все в жизни связано со всем. Само по себе наличие состояния не делает человека творцом, однако независимости последнего от массы привходящих факторов очень способствует. Отсутствие, знаете ли, необходимости в поте лица своего зарабатывать хлеб.
И возможность создать земной рай на одном отдельно взятом кусочке земли. Уютный большой дом увешан картинами. Продажа одной из сотни окупила в свое время приобретение этого замка и приведение его в порядок. Преданные слуги. ��ладовки ломятся от снеди, в погребах отсвечивают золотом и рубином вина. Кругом лес, не дремучий, но от докучного соседства обитатели манора избавлены.
И две свободные от предрассудков девушки. Настолько свободные, что большую часть времени расхаживают ню. Не шлюшки какие, заметьте - искусствоведы. И владелец всей этой роскоши - художник с мировым именем, бука, отшельник. Старик, создающий и в глубокой старости удивительные картины.
А герой наш молод, талантлив, образован и все у него в жизни складывается. Милая жена, чудные дочурки, радость творчества, возможность выразить мироощущение в живописи и словесно, дающая некоторую степень финансовой независимости. Что приятно, согласитесь. И он едет к мэтру для того, что подготовить предисловие к каталогу его работ.
Попадая в диковинный микст уорхоловых коллажей, Страны Чудес и Леса Бросселианд. и много чего еще. У него, с высшим его гуманитарным, найдется что в ассоциативные ряды встроить. Нам в простоте видно лишь то, что на поверхности, но и того немало. Заколдованная принцесса под охраной огнедышащего дракона. Нестерпимый, до ломоты в зубах, соблазн наливного яблока. И сияющий чистотой Единорог бродит поодаль, кося лиловым глазом.
И вот тут, господа, встает вопрос: насколько любовь, что обрушилась на принцессу и рыцаря, происходит от естественных причин? А в какой степени инициирована старым чудаком, любовь которого к выстраиванию мизансцен простирается далеко за пределы полотен, что пишет? И как правильнее повести себя этим двоим в сложившейся ситуации?
Поддаться соблазну, что может быть легче? Устоять, не пуститься во все тяжкие, когда после ничего не останется, кроме сжать виски руками и раз за разом повторять: "Господи, что мы наделали!" Трудно? Еще как. И непочетно с точки зрения расхожей морали. Не той, которая декларирует верность обетам, а той, что цинично осмеивает блюдущих на практике. Что с них, мол, взять, творческие импотенты! Такое, знаете, раскольниковское: "я хотел Наполеоном сделаться, оттого и убил"; "тварь я я дрожащая или право имею"
В приземленности своей, вижу в поступке героев не убогость, но силу. И взятую, вопреки обстоятельствам, возможность оценить глубину и подлинность этих чувств. А дальше действовать, сообразуясь с ней и обстоятельствами. Это меньше будет напоминать случку, ну так, мы люди, нет?
Ах да, и о башнях. Та, что из слоновой кости, хороша, не спорю. Фаллический символ и надстояние творца над суетой и тщетой. Но та, что из черного дерева, она почти Темная Башня. Которая суть - ось всех миров (но это уже у другого классика ХХ века). Однако все со всем связано.
And the opportunity to create an earthly paradise on one single piece of land. The cozy big house is hung with paintings. The sale of one of the hundreds bought at one time the acquisition of this castle and putting it in order. Devoted servants. The storerooms are bursting with food, the wine gleams with gold and ruby in the cellars. There is a forest all around, not dense, but the inhabitants of the manor are spared from the annoying neighborhood.
And two girls who are free from prejudice. So free that they walk around nude most of the time. Not sluts, mind you - art critics. And the owner of all this luxury is a world-renowned artist, a buka, a hermit. An old man who creates amazing paintings in his old age.
За границей не блуди, в чистоте себя блюди.
Там дальше совет не мешаться в разговоры и знакомств не заводить. Но это герою никак невозможно, потому - за разговорами и знакомствами едет. Каков главный фактор, определяющий величие творца? Культовые произведения в его фильмо-, библиографии или выставочном каталоге? Обласканность критикой? Многочисленные призы и награды? Творческое долголетие? Ну, от всего понемногу. Но главное - он должен быть богат.
Фи, как не комильфо, надо чтобы агнцы отдельно, козлищи отдельно. Котлеты в одну сторону, мух - в другую.. А вот и нет. Все в жизни связано со всем. Само по себе наличие состояния не делает человека творцом, однако независимости последнего от массы привходящих факторов очень способствует. Отсутствие, знаете ли, необходимости в поте лица своего зарабатывать хлеб.
И возможность создать земной рай на одном отдельно взятом кусочке земли. Уютный большой дом увешан картинами. Продажа одной из сотни окупила в свое время приобретение этого замка и приведение его в порядок. Преданные слуги. ��ладовки ломятся от снеди, в погребах отсвечивают золотом и рубином вина. Кругом лес, не дремучий, но от докучного соседства обитатели манора избавлены.
И две свободные от предрассудков девушки. Настолько свободные, что большую часть времени расхаживают ню. Не шлюшки какие, заметьте - искусствоведы. И владелец всей этой роскоши - художник с мировым именем, бука, отшельник. Старик, создающий и в глубокой старости удивительные картины.
А герой наш молод, талантлив, образован и все у него в жизни складывается. Милая жена, чудные дочурки, радость творчества, возможность выразить мироощущение в живописи и словесно, дающая некоторую степень финансовой независимости. Что приятно, согласитесь. И он едет к мэтру для того, что подготовить предисловие к каталогу его работ.
Попадая в диковинный микст уорхоловых коллажей, Страны Чудес и Леса Бросселианд. и много чего еще. У него, с высшим его гуманитарным, найдется что в ассоциативные ряды встроить. Нам в простоте видно лишь то, что на поверхности, но и того немало. Заколдованная принцесса под охраной огнедышащего дракона. Нестерпимый, до ломоты в зубах, соблазн наливного яблока. И сияющий чистотой Единорог бродит поодаль, кося лиловым глазом.
И вот тут, господа, встает вопрос: насколько любовь, что обрушилась на принцессу и рыцаря, происходит от естественных причин? А в какой степени инициирована старым чудаком, любовь которого к выстраиванию мизансцен простирается далеко за пределы полотен, что пишет? И как правильнее повести себя этим двоим в сложившейся ситуации?
Поддаться соблазну, что может быть легче? Устоять, не пуститься во все тяжкие, когда после ничего не останется, кроме сжать виски руками и раз за разом повторять: "Господи, что мы наделали!" Трудно? Еще как. И непочетно с точки зрения расхожей морали. Не той, которая декларирует верность обетам, а той, что цинично осмеивает блюдущих на практике. Что с них, мол, взять, творческие импотенты! Такое, знаете, раскольниковское: "я хотел Наполеоном сделаться, оттого и убил"; "тварь я я дрожащая или право имею"
В приземленности своей, вижу в поступке героев не убогость, но силу. И взятую, вопреки обстоятельствам, возможность оценить глубину и подлинность этих чувств. А дальше действовать, сообразуясь с ней и обстоятельствами. Это меньше будет напоминать случку, ну так, мы люди, нет?
Ах да, и о башнях. Та, что из слоновой кости, хороша, не спорю. Фаллический символ и надстояние творца над суетой и тщетой. Но та, что из черного дерева, она почти Темная Башня. Которая суть - ось всех миров (но это уже у другого классика ХХ века). Однако все со всем связано.
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September 13, 2025من دقیقا قراره به چی این اثر نمره بدم؟ وقتی باورم نمیشه کسی که «کلکسیونر» رو نوشته به اون قلدری ، همچین اثر ضعیفی رو بنویسه مطلقا اروتیک و با تفکرات کثیف و ضد انسانی.
June 6, 2023
Cinci nuvele foarte diferite ca stil si tematica de celelalte scrieri ale lui Fowles. Trebuie sa recunosc ca nu mi-au placut atat de mult ca "Iubita locotenentului francez"sau "Colectionarul" si chiar a trebuit sa trag de mine ca sa le termin.
Desi descrierile sunt frumoase si induc o oarecare melancolie si uitare de sine este foarte probabil ca cititorul sa se plictiseasca la un moment dat, pierzandu-si interesul si sa aiba impresia ca povestile sunt lipsite de substanta. S-ar putea chiar sa considere ca nu doreste sa-si aloce timpul pentru a le citi pe toate si sa abandoneze cartea la un moment dat.
Prima nuvela, "Turnul de abanos" contine niste descrieri minunate ale drumurilor si padurilor pe care David Williams le parcurge in drumul sau spre Franta. El fiind critic de arta este trimis din partea editurii unde lucreaza sa-l intalneasca pe pictorul Henry Breasley in vederea scrierii unei carti biografice. Acesta este foarte excentric si tine langa el doua fete ciudate: Zurli si Soricel. In cele din urma David va fi sedus de catre Soricel. Nuvela are un limbaj colorat, pictorul fiind foarte libertin in exprimare.
A doua nuvela se numeste "Eliduc" si infatiseaza o poveste de dragoste plasata in Evul Mediu. In Bretania traia odata un cavaler pe numele sau Eliduc, care, fiind plecat in razboi, se indragosteste de o frumoasa printesa, desi este insurat. Povestea pune in evidenta caracterul nobil al sotiei lui Eliduc care se poarta foarte frumos cu amanta sotului, punand pe primul loc fericirea barbatului iubit.
"Sarmanul Koko"este povestea bizara a unui scriitor care dorind sa-si definitiveze un valoros manuscris se retrage intr-o casa de vacanta si acolo este praduit de catre un hot atipic. Acesta ii va da o lectie de viata distrugandu-i manuscrisul.
"Enigma" este o nuvela cu iz politist despre disparitia lui John Fielding, un barbat bogat, membru al Parlamentului, avand o familie fericita. Datorita pozitiei sale, autoritatile se gandesc la o rapire pentru rascumparare sau la posibilitatea unei alte femei la care sa fi fugit. Curios, ultima data a fost vazut intrand la British Museum unde isi lasa servieta la garderoba dar nu si-o mai recupereaza. Pana la urma sergentul Michael Jennings se va pune pe treaba si va incerca sa rezolve enigma disparitiei. Mi-a atras aici atentia teoria despre "Deus Absconditus" (Dumnezeul care a disparut fara sa explice de ce si tocmai de asta noi nu l-am uitat niciodata).
Ultima nuvela "Norul" se refera la un grup de tineri care pornesc la un picnic intr-o idilica si insorita duminica. Relatiile dintre ei sunt perfect rezumate de catre autor: "umbre in conversatie, lumini in tacere."
In incheiere am selectat cateva citate pe care am considerat ca merita sa le mentionez aici:
"Stiinta nu are suflet. Nu are iesire. E ca soarecele in labirint."
"Nu poti pune stavila ideilor totalitariste cu metode totalitariste! Nu faci decat sa le incurajezi."
"Ideile sunt periculoase in sine pentru ca neaga faptele omului. Singura replica la fascism este fapta."
"Pentru moarte te rogi. Dar durerea o aud si acum. O retraiesc. Doream s-o bat in cuie, s-o omor. N-o puteam desena."
"O data intorci spatele unei inimi de aur, data viitoare te dai trup si suflet cui nu merita."
"Il chinuia durerea celei mai cumplite privatiuni - nu de a poseda, ci de a cunoaste: ce spunea ea, ce simtea, ce gandea."
"Singurul lucru pe care oamenii nu-l uita niciodata este misterul. Nimic nu dainuie mai mult decat o taina."
Desi descrierile sunt frumoase si induc o oarecare melancolie si uitare de sine este foarte probabil ca cititorul sa se plictiseasca la un moment dat, pierzandu-si interesul si sa aiba impresia ca povestile sunt lipsite de substanta. S-ar putea chiar sa considere ca nu doreste sa-si aloce timpul pentru a le citi pe toate si sa abandoneze cartea la un moment dat.
Prima nuvela, "Turnul de abanos" contine niste descrieri minunate ale drumurilor si padurilor pe care David Williams le parcurge in drumul sau spre Franta. El fiind critic de arta este trimis din partea editurii unde lucreaza sa-l intalneasca pe pictorul Henry Breasley in vederea scrierii unei carti biografice. Acesta este foarte excentric si tine langa el doua fete ciudate: Zurli si Soricel. In cele din urma David va fi sedus de catre Soricel. Nuvela are un limbaj colorat, pictorul fiind foarte libertin in exprimare.
A doua nuvela se numeste "Eliduc" si infatiseaza o poveste de dragoste plasata in Evul Mediu. In Bretania traia odata un cavaler pe numele sau Eliduc, care, fiind plecat in razboi, se indragosteste de o frumoasa printesa, desi este insurat. Povestea pune in evidenta caracterul nobil al sotiei lui Eliduc care se poarta foarte frumos cu amanta sotului, punand pe primul loc fericirea barbatului iubit.
"Sarmanul Koko"este povestea bizara a unui scriitor care dorind sa-si definitiveze un valoros manuscris se retrage intr-o casa de vacanta si acolo este praduit de catre un hot atipic. Acesta ii va da o lectie de viata distrugandu-i manuscrisul.
"Enigma" este o nuvela cu iz politist despre disparitia lui John Fielding, un barbat bogat, membru al Parlamentului, avand o familie fericita. Datorita pozitiei sale, autoritatile se gandesc la o rapire pentru rascumparare sau la posibilitatea unei alte femei la care sa fi fugit. Curios, ultima data a fost vazut intrand la British Museum unde isi lasa servieta la garderoba dar nu si-o mai recupereaza. Pana la urma sergentul Michael Jennings se va pune pe treaba si va incerca sa rezolve enigma disparitiei. Mi-a atras aici atentia teoria despre "Deus Absconditus" (Dumnezeul care a disparut fara sa explice de ce si tocmai de asta noi nu l-am uitat niciodata).
Ultima nuvela "Norul" se refera la un grup de tineri care pornesc la un picnic intr-o idilica si insorita duminica. Relatiile dintre ei sunt perfect rezumate de catre autor: "umbre in conversatie, lumini in tacere."
In incheiere am selectat cateva citate pe care am considerat ca merita sa le mentionez aici:
"Stiinta nu are suflet. Nu are iesire. E ca soarecele in labirint."
"Nu poti pune stavila ideilor totalitariste cu metode totalitariste! Nu faci decat sa le incurajezi."
"Ideile sunt periculoase in sine pentru ca neaga faptele omului. Singura replica la fascism este fapta."
"Pentru moarte te rogi. Dar durerea o aud si acum. O retraiesc. Doream s-o bat in cuie, s-o omor. N-o puteam desena."
"O data intorci spatele unei inimi de aur, data viitoare te dai trup si suflet cui nu merita."
"Il chinuia durerea celei mai cumplite privatiuni - nu de a poseda, ci de a cunoaste: ce spunea ea, ce simtea, ce gandea."
"Singurul lucru pe care oamenii nu-l uita niciodata este misterul. Nimic nu dainuie mai mult decat o taina."
April 5, 2023
دیوانه وار به تمام معنا !!
با کرختی حس میکند چیزی به تدریج و سنگدلانه از قلم میفتد. سایه یک صورت ، موهایی که درخششی طلایی دارند ، دری که بسته میشود ، " من هم تو را میخواهم! " . انسان میداند که خوابی دیده است اما نمیتواند آنرا به یاد آورد. گریه ای فروخورده. روزی ستمگر.
او تسلیم چیزی میشود که هنوز برایش باقی مانده : تسلیم ِ آبستره!
" زنده هستم! "
با کرختی حس میکند چیزی به تدریج و سنگدلانه از قلم میفتد. سایه یک صورت ، موهایی که درخششی طلایی دارند ، دری که بسته میشود ، " من هم تو را میخواهم! " . انسان میداند که خوابی دیده است اما نمیتواند آنرا به یاد آورد. گریه ای فروخورده. روزی ستمگر.
او تسلیم چیزی میشود که هنوز برایش باقی مانده : تسلیم ِ آبستره!
" زنده هستم! "
January 6, 2012
I'm glad this wasn't my first exposure to Fowles, because it would have turned me off him for good and I never would have read The French Lieutenant's Woman. I didn't realize that it was a novella and four stories. (Nowhere on my copy of the book is this indicated.) The novella, The Ebony Tower, is about a dirty old man, an expat British artist living in France, his two young concubines, named the Mouse and the Freak, and David, the artist/writer who drops into their lives briefly to interview the old man for a book. The novella grossed me out, soured me, and left me disinclined to give Fowles the benefit of the doubt on the stories that followed.
There's a discussion of realist vs. abstract art running through the novella (the dirty old man, Breasley, is a well known realist painter who despises abstraction) that feels impossibly silly and dated. As does everything else - the way nipples are constantly being observed through hippie clothing, the way the men have last names and the women don't (though we do eventually find out their real first names), the way the women strip nude for picnics as if in a Manet painting.
I wanted to put a bullet in each character's head. Breasley, for being a misogynist asshole and speaking in staccato fragments:
"Cock. Not fundamentals. Fundaments. ...Pair of tits and a cunt. All that goes with them. That's reality. Not your piddling little theorems and pansy colours."
"Absolute piffle, my dear man. No idea. Spent half your life getting their legs open. Other half wishing you hadn't. Either that. Catching the clap off some tart. Dog's life. Don't know how we stood it."
The Mouse and the Freak, for being willing objects of a dirty old man's lusts and domestic needs. David, for finding the whole situation pleasurable, though he is sketched as a less misogynist counterpoint to Breasley.
The second story, Eliduc, is a retelling of an archetypal medieval love story about a knight and his two lady loves. The Eliduc story is referenced briefly in The Ebony Tower, too, with the Mouse and the Freak standing in for the two lady loves. Poor Koko is about a writer confronted with a bizarre intruder while staying in the isolated cottage of some friends. The Enigma is about the disappearance of a conservative member of Parliament, and the attempts to figure out a motive for why he might have disappeared. In The Cloud, a family gathering at the beach turns ominous. I had a hard time with The Cloud because I don't do present tense. I skimmed it quickly.
There's a discussion of realist vs. abstract art running through the novella (the dirty old man, Breasley, is a well known realist painter who despises abstraction) that feels impossibly silly and dated. As does everything else - the way nipples are constantly being observed through hippie clothing, the way the men have last names and the women don't (though we do eventually find out their real first names), the way the women strip nude for picnics as if in a Manet painting.
I wanted to put a bullet in each character's head. Breasley, for being a misogynist asshole and speaking in staccato fragments:
"Cock. Not fundamentals. Fundaments. ...Pair of tits and a cunt. All that goes with them. That's reality. Not your piddling little theorems and pansy colours."
"Absolute piffle, my dear man. No idea. Spent half your life getting their legs open. Other half wishing you hadn't. Either that. Catching the clap off some tart. Dog's life. Don't know how we stood it."
The Mouse and the Freak, for being willing objects of a dirty old man's lusts and domestic needs. David, for finding the whole situation pleasurable, though he is sketched as a less misogynist counterpoint to Breasley.
The second story, Eliduc, is a retelling of an archetypal medieval love story about a knight and his two lady loves. The Eliduc story is referenced briefly in The Ebony Tower, too, with the Mouse and the Freak standing in for the two lady loves. Poor Koko is about a writer confronted with a bizarre intruder while staying in the isolated cottage of some friends. The Enigma is about the disappearance of a conservative member of Parliament, and the attempts to figure out a motive for why he might have disappeared. In The Cloud, a family gathering at the beach turns ominous. I had a hard time with The Cloud because I don't do present tense. I skimmed it quickly.
May 14, 2020
Fowles is one of the greats, that's for sure. I've been under the spell of The French Lieutenant's Woman for so long I've been afraid to read anything else, including what everyone says is his real masterpiece, The Magus. Not just because I was afraid nothing else would live up, but because I was afraid it might. Weird? Maybe. I just didn't want TFLW to get knocked off its pedestal.
One of the things that's so fantastic about Fowles is how ahead of his time he was in terms of his handling of women's POVs, and the male POV toward women. It's hard not to squirm. He squirms as a male. And this is in the 70s and earlier. Even when he delivers a bombshell, as in the narrator POV saying something like "she invited regiments and rape." Then gradually the whole story redeems itself pages later. You just can't give up on him.
Gradually being the key word with Fowles. I have to come out and say this, I feel: you have to be a bit old-fashioned for him, despite what I just said about him having been ahead of his time, and a fairly modernist writer, even verging postmodern (though I've had arguments about this, and pretty much lost them). I think you have to have had a damn good education to appreciate him, maybe even gone to one of the good prep schools, I'm sorry to say. By which I mean a really foundational education... Maybe I'm wrong. I hope I'm wrong.
I think it may be something that's shifted in the past 10 years or so in terms of our education systems...
In the case of the stories/novellas in this collection, there's a very old-fashioned approach. For example, in the mystery story about the vanished MP, you get a lot of backstory to start out with, and not a lot of emotional connection to the characters. This is a Victorian style, where the author assumes he has you because, well, he's writing a story and you're reading it. And, in the end, that's so and the argument carries off. The final story takes almost an Woolfian approach, starting out with dialogue, a lot of people on a picnic, and you don't know why you're supposed to care. It's only as you gradually zoom in that the emotional impact builds and builds. You're left devastated.
The first novella, the title story, is an absolute masterwork. Imagine you were able to walk into a romantic painting. A landscape with mythological overtones (slightly Arthurian, say), with nudes, as a male, and find yourself interacting with the women there. And also with the extremely gifted painter...who, quite naturally would have to be a selfish and probably chauvinistic bastard much as described in, say, Zola's The Masterpiece... Let's say you are sort of a nice guy with some principles and an extremely fine understanding of art, maybe quite a bit of talent yourself, not to mention ideals. Throw in not a few allusions to Childe Roland and the Arthurian corpus because this story is set in Brittany... Did I forget to mention that the painter lives alone (except for his nudes/assistants) in a remote manor in the Breton countryside? Which you are visiting sans wife for a weekend? Knights errant and their dark towers and perilous gards. What you have is a spectacular meditation not on art as you might expect but on the wild male.
The next tale is spun on this same theme--a translation of Eliduc by Marie de France. Which by coincidence, or so it seems, may be extraordinarily helpful to me in a project of my own that I may or may not get to before I die regarding M de F.
Highly recommended.
One of the things that's so fantastic about Fowles is how ahead of his time he was in terms of his handling of women's POVs, and the male POV toward women. It's hard not to squirm. He squirms as a male. And this is in the 70s and earlier. Even when he delivers a bombshell, as in the narrator POV saying something like "she invited regiments and rape." Then gradually the whole story redeems itself pages later. You just can't give up on him.
Gradually being the key word with Fowles. I have to come out and say this, I feel: you have to be a bit old-fashioned for him, despite what I just said about him having been ahead of his time, and a fairly modernist writer, even verging postmodern (though I've had arguments about this, and pretty much lost them). I think you have to have had a damn good education to appreciate him, maybe even gone to one of the good prep schools, I'm sorry to say. By which I mean a really foundational education... Maybe I'm wrong. I hope I'm wrong.
I think it may be something that's shifted in the past 10 years or so in terms of our education systems...
In the case of the stories/novellas in this collection, there's a very old-fashioned approach. For example, in the mystery story about the vanished MP, you get a lot of backstory to start out with, and not a lot of emotional connection to the characters. This is a Victorian style, where the author assumes he has you because, well, he's writing a story and you're reading it. And, in the end, that's so and the argument carries off. The final story takes almost an Woolfian approach, starting out with dialogue, a lot of people on a picnic, and you don't know why you're supposed to care. It's only as you gradually zoom in that the emotional impact builds and builds. You're left devastated.
The first novella, the title story, is an absolute masterwork. Imagine you were able to walk into a romantic painting. A landscape with mythological overtones (slightly Arthurian, say), with nudes, as a male, and find yourself interacting with the women there. And also with the extremely gifted painter...who, quite naturally would have to be a selfish and probably chauvinistic bastard much as described in, say, Zola's The Masterpiece... Let's say you are sort of a nice guy with some principles and an extremely fine understanding of art, maybe quite a bit of talent yourself, not to mention ideals. Throw in not a few allusions to Childe Roland and the Arthurian corpus because this story is set in Brittany... Did I forget to mention that the painter lives alone (except for his nudes/assistants) in a remote manor in the Breton countryside? Which you are visiting sans wife for a weekend? Knights errant and their dark towers and perilous gards. What you have is a spectacular meditation not on art as you might expect but on the wild male.
The next tale is spun on this same theme--a translation of Eliduc by Marie de France. Which by coincidence, or so it seems, may be extraordinarily helpful to me in a project of my own that I may or may not get to before I die regarding M de F.
Highly recommended.
November 29, 2022
Another re-read of a book read years ago at University after re-reading the Magus. The Ebony Tower is a novella consisting of 5 short stories and a personal reflection by the author. The first story - The Ebony Tower - is very Magus like. A young Abstract painter visits an older Master at his house in France to interview him. He meets two young muse like girls - the Mouse and the Freak who have a strange relationship with the older man. I remember the film version of this story also. The second story Eliduc starts with a personal statement from the author followed by his translation of a Celtic story of again a man or Knight and two women.
‘Poor Koko’ is a great story of a writer whose home is broken into by a young thug who burns the writers accumulated manuscripts in front of him.
‘The Enigma’ is a story of a Tory MP’s disappearance and a Policeman’s investigation - it is never solved.
The final story - ‘The Cloud’ - is very mysterious. What appears to be a simple picnic is very much more than this.
I do enjoy reading this author and even re-reading him after all these years. A rich and deeply profound writing style. I find his style and connection to France reminds me of Sebastian Faulks. Another great writer.
‘Poor Koko’ is a great story of a writer whose home is broken into by a young thug who burns the writers accumulated manuscripts in front of him.
‘The Enigma’ is a story of a Tory MP’s disappearance and a Policeman’s investigation - it is never solved.
The final story - ‘The Cloud’ - is very mysterious. What appears to be a simple picnic is very much more than this.
I do enjoy reading this author and even re-reading him after all these years. A rich and deeply profound writing style. I find his style and connection to France reminds me of Sebastian Faulks. Another great writer.
May 14, 2020
In a 1971 interview about his brilliant first novel The Magus, John Fowles admitted that he was obsessed by “the basic idea of a secret world, whose penetration involved ordeal and whose final reward was self-knowledge.” This passage from Joseph Campbell’s groundbreaking 1949 study The Hero With a Thousand Faces could have been written with a Fowles protagonist in mind:
"Once having traversed the threshold, the hero moves in a dream landscape of curiously fluid, ambiguous forms, where he must survive a succession of trials. This is a favorite phase of the myth-adventure. It has produced a world literature of miraculous tests and ordeals."
Fiction is a modern form of mythology, a remnant of a primordially ingrained storytelling instinct predating science and psychology. Digging under the surface of a character can turn up illuminating archetypal correspondences. There are dangers in applying structuralist archetypes to storytelling of course; as Hollywood continually demonstrates, over-relying on them can lead to a deadening formulaic approach. Writers would do well to heed Fowles’ own advice: “Follow the accident, fear the fixed plan—that is the rule.”
Read the rest of my review here: https://timweed.net/jungian-archetype...
"Once having traversed the threshold, the hero moves in a dream landscape of curiously fluid, ambiguous forms, where he must survive a succession of trials. This is a favorite phase of the myth-adventure. It has produced a world literature of miraculous tests and ordeals."
Fiction is a modern form of mythology, a remnant of a primordially ingrained storytelling instinct predating science and psychology. Digging under the surface of a character can turn up illuminating archetypal correspondences. There are dangers in applying structuralist archetypes to storytelling of course; as Hollywood continually demonstrates, over-relying on them can lead to a deadening formulaic approach. Writers would do well to heed Fowles’ own advice: “Follow the accident, fear the fixed plan—that is the rule.”
Read the rest of my review here: https://timweed.net/jungian-archetype...
May 28, 2024
خوانش صوتی/ داستان بدی نبود دوستش داشتم ولی برای یه ریویوی درست حسابی که قاطعانه نظر خودمو بگم باید یک بار دیگه کتاب رو گوش بدم چون خیلی حواسم به همهی فصلهاش جمع نبود اما در کل فضا و جملاتشو دوست داشتم اما بیشتر بنظرم ازش فیلمِ فرانسوی خوبی در میومد تا رمان. نظرات طوماری از هنر و سکس و نقاشی...یه جاهاییش با خودم میگفتم این دیگه زیاده رویه و کلیشهس و این کشش جنسی بین شخصیتها صرفا فقط بخاطر محیطیه که توشن...اما انتهای داستانو پسندیدم.
جان فالوز رو شاید از کتاب "کلکسیونر" بشناسیم. این داستان در یک ویلای دور افتاده فرانسوی رخ میدهد، جایی که هنری بریزلی، نقاش پیر و سرشناس با دو دختر ندیمهاش با عادتهای غیرمعمول زندگی میکند و دنیای خاص اسرارآمیز خود را دارد تا این که دیوید منتقد جوان و معروف هنری برای گفت و گو با نقاش، قدم به زندگی او میگذارد...
جان فالوز رو شاید از کتاب "کلکسیونر" بشناسیم. این داستان در یک ویلای دور افتاده فرانسوی رخ میدهد، جایی که هنری بریزلی، نقاش پیر و سرشناس با دو دختر ندیمهاش با عادتهای غیرمعمول زندگی میکند و دنیای خاص اسرارآمیز خود را دارد تا این که دیوید منتقد جوان و معروف هنری برای گفت و گو با نقاش، قدم به زندگی او میگذارد...
January 9, 2022
Juhan ja Priit Pikamäe kindel soovitus!
April 10, 2023
The fourth John Fowles book I have read. Much better than Mantissa and more interesting than Daniel Martin but not as good as The French Lieutenant's Woman. It's a collection of 'novellas' according to the back cover blurb, but one of them is certainly only a short-story.
The volume certainly begins with a novella, 'The Ebony Tower', which lends its title to the book as a whole. It's a story about yearning and the passing of time and the tyranny of culture. The narrator is a man who is interested in art. He visits a reclusive and acerbic old painter who lives with two women. In the course of his visit, the narrator decides he wants to bonk one of these women. That's a trite way of putting it, because the story is much deeper than that and has so many more ramifications, but ultimately that's what it's about. A man who wants to bonk a woman.
The second story 'Eliduc' is a translation or retelling of an old story by Marie de France. It's good but nothing special. It's about a married knight who travels abroad, meets a woman and wants to bonk her. And yes, once again, that's a trite way of putting it, because the story is much deeper than that and has so many more ramifications, but ultimately that's what it's about. A man who wants to bonk a woman.
The third story, 'Poor Koko', is very surprisingly for John Fowles not about a man who wants to bonk a particular woman. He doesn't even want an affaire (Fowles' insistence on spelling it like that (instead of 'affair') although technically correct, is very annoying) with any woman. It's more of a crime story but without a solution, Genuinely tense and suspensful. Rather excellent, in fact.
The fourth story, 'The Enigma', is also a sort of crime story, again without a proper solution (or rather with a hypothetical solution that fulfils most of the criteria of a proper solution) and it's another excellent piece. It's the story of an utterly mysterious disappearance and the policeman who is assigned to the case and how he meets a woman who is a key witness and wants to bonk her.
The fifth and final story, 'The Cloud', is the best story in the book, a remarkable piece of writing, in fact, although at first I thought it was confusing, cluttered and trivial. It quickly develops into a superbly compelling story that is rich in imagery, so rich indeed that I am still thinking about some of the images it evoked, especially near the end of the story. There is a sinister substrata to the story and it may well be the third crime story of sorts in the volume, or it may not. It is very ambiguous, but not in an irritating way. And yes, it does contain a scene in which a man meets a woman and wants to bonk her, but it isn't at all like the usual such scenes, in Fowles or anywhere else.
Fowles is a good writer. He has dated somewhat, this is an undeniable truth, and he absolutely reeks of the 1970s, a decade in which men with cigarettes hanging out of their mouths knew that women 'wanted it' and so gave it to them and that was the way things were supposed to be, and if those women declined to want it very much, well you just had to be more persuasive and keep trying until they gave in. In this sense I suppose he can be compared with other 'androcentric' writers of the 60s and 70s, such as Milan Kundera, but I feel there's a difference, in that one comparison at least. Kundera, to me, feels like an author who is telling unpalatable truths: he is saying, men are mostly predatory and the world is a place where they can mostly get away with that. His vision of the way things are and his presentation of that vision in text feels critical. But Fowles seems to be saying: men need you-know-what and women often don't give it, so men need to try harder to get it, and if they do try harder and keep trying, that's fine, there's nothing wrong with the way the world is, it's natural, and look at me, I'm a wonderful author.
A bit harsh? Well, I plan on reading all his novels. He didn't write many, so that's not too difficult a task. I have three left to read, The Collector, The Magus, A Maggot.
The volume certainly begins with a novella, 'The Ebony Tower', which lends its title to the book as a whole. It's a story about yearning and the passing of time and the tyranny of culture. The narrator is a man who is interested in art. He visits a reclusive and acerbic old painter who lives with two women. In the course of his visit, the narrator decides he wants to bonk one of these women. That's a trite way of putting it, because the story is much deeper than that and has so many more ramifications, but ultimately that's what it's about. A man who wants to bonk a woman.
The second story 'Eliduc' is a translation or retelling of an old story by Marie de France. It's good but nothing special. It's about a married knight who travels abroad, meets a woman and wants to bonk her. And yes, once again, that's a trite way of putting it, because the story is much deeper than that and has so many more ramifications, but ultimately that's what it's about. A man who wants to bonk a woman.
The third story, 'Poor Koko', is very surprisingly for John Fowles not about a man who wants to bonk a particular woman. He doesn't even want an affaire (Fowles' insistence on spelling it like that (instead of 'affair') although technically correct, is very annoying) with any woman. It's more of a crime story but without a solution, Genuinely tense and suspensful. Rather excellent, in fact.
The fourth story, 'The Enigma', is also a sort of crime story, again without a proper solution (or rather with a hypothetical solution that fulfils most of the criteria of a proper solution) and it's another excellent piece. It's the story of an utterly mysterious disappearance and the policeman who is assigned to the case and how he meets a woman who is a key witness and wants to bonk her.
The fifth and final story, 'The Cloud', is the best story in the book, a remarkable piece of writing, in fact, although at first I thought it was confusing, cluttered and trivial. It quickly develops into a superbly compelling story that is rich in imagery, so rich indeed that I am still thinking about some of the images it evoked, especially near the end of the story. There is a sinister substrata to the story and it may well be the third crime story of sorts in the volume, or it may not. It is very ambiguous, but not in an irritating way. And yes, it does contain a scene in which a man meets a woman and wants to bonk her, but it isn't at all like the usual such scenes, in Fowles or anywhere else.
Fowles is a good writer. He has dated somewhat, this is an undeniable truth, and he absolutely reeks of the 1970s, a decade in which men with cigarettes hanging out of their mouths knew that women 'wanted it' and so gave it to them and that was the way things were supposed to be, and if those women declined to want it very much, well you just had to be more persuasive and keep trying until they gave in. In this sense I suppose he can be compared with other 'androcentric' writers of the 60s and 70s, such as Milan Kundera, but I feel there's a difference, in that one comparison at least. Kundera, to me, feels like an author who is telling unpalatable truths: he is saying, men are mostly predatory and the world is a place where they can mostly get away with that. His vision of the way things are and his presentation of that vision in text feels critical. But Fowles seems to be saying: men need you-know-what and women often don't give it, so men need to try harder to get it, and if they do try harder and keep trying, that's fine, there's nothing wrong with the way the world is, it's natural, and look at me, I'm a wonderful author.
A bit harsh? Well, I plan on reading all his novels. He didn't write many, so that's not too difficult a task. I have three left to read, The Collector, The Magus, A Maggot.
May 5, 2018
Ο Τζων Φόουλς,μετά και τον Εβένινο πύργο, είναι ο συγγραφέας που μου ταιριάζει πολύ! Δεν θυμάμαι πόσες φορές έχω διαβάσει τον ''Μάγο'' και άλλες πόσες θα τον ξαναδιαβάσω! πόσο αξέχαστος ο ΄΄Συλλέκτης΄΄ και πόσο αγάπησα την ΄΄Ερωμένη του Γάλλου Υποπλοίαρχου΄΄ ! Ένας μεγάλος συγγραφέας που αξίζει να διαβαστεί από όλους!
November 24, 2020
Fowles'ın bu kitabında Abanoz Kule adında kısa bir roman ve 4 öykü var. Kısa romanı Abanoz Kule, Büyücü adlı uzun romanına çok benziyor. Yine yaşlı bir adam ve 2 genç kız var. Yaşlı adam bu sefer ünlü bir ressam. Bu kısa romanı okurken çok sıkılmamın nedeni tanımadığım ressamlar ve resim teknikleri konusunda sayfalarca süren yorum ve eleştiriler oldu.
Yazar ne kadar kültürlü bir insan olduğunu, resim sanatı hakkında ne kadar bilgili ve yeterli olduğunu gözümüze sokuyor sanki. Resme ilgi duymama ve epeyce ressam ve resim akımı bilmeme rağmen, kitapta adı geçen ressamlari ve resim tekniklerini hiç duymadım. Duymak ya da bilmek zorunda da değilim çünkü bir roman okuyorum, sanat eleştirisi değil.
Damlatma tekniğini kafamda canlandirabilirim ama bu teknikle yapılan bir resmi görmeden okuduğum eleştiriyi ne kadar anlayabilirim? Okumayı bırakıp "google " a mı sormaliyim? Ama o zaman da okuma keyfi kalmıyor işte. Bunlara takilmayip geçersem de eksik okuduğumu, kitaba hak ettiği değeri vermediğimi düşünüyorum. Kısacası Fowles beni yoruyor. En beğenilen romanlarından biri olan Büyücü'de de öyle olmuştu. Gereksiz yere çok uzatılmış bir roman bence. Orada da psikoloji üzerine ahkâm kesmişti. Kitaptaki öyküler de vasat. Bir iz bırakmıyor insanda. Bitirince "Oh be, nihayet bitti" dedim.
Yazar ne kadar kültürlü bir insan olduğunu, resim sanatı hakkında ne kadar bilgili ve yeterli olduğunu gözümüze sokuyor sanki. Resme ilgi duymama ve epeyce ressam ve resim akımı bilmeme rağmen, kitapta adı geçen ressamlari ve resim tekniklerini hiç duymadım. Duymak ya da bilmek zorunda da değilim çünkü bir roman okuyorum, sanat eleştirisi değil.
Damlatma tekniğini kafamda canlandirabilirim ama bu teknikle yapılan bir resmi görmeden okuduğum eleştiriyi ne kadar anlayabilirim? Okumayı bırakıp "google " a mı sormaliyim? Ama o zaman da okuma keyfi kalmıyor işte. Bunlara takilmayip geçersem de eksik okuduğumu, kitaba hak ettiği değeri vermediğimi düşünüyorum. Kısacası Fowles beni yoruyor. En beğenilen romanlarından biri olan Büyücü'de de öyle olmuştu. Gereksiz yere çok uzatılmış bir roman bence. Orada da psikoloji üzerine ahkâm kesmişti. Kitaptaki öyküler de vasat. Bir iz bırakmıyor insanda. Bitirince "Oh be, nihayet bitti" dedim.
September 25, 2012
Though each of these stories are very interesting, I found the last two unable to match up to the first ones. I am tempted to choose a favorite among them, but that would be hard, for there are different things to love so much about each of them. My attention was however arrested by a small portion to be found in poor Koko. Fowles speaks of the nature of words, of art. Of how some of us struggle as much as we can to make sure that this form of art survives. Yet the enemy triumphs. A triumph of the visual, of television. So true, and had me wondering whether this isn't the reason why so many young people don't read anymore, given the easy, and [more] entertaining television that within an hour or two makes you think like you've experienced the most amazing story...yet easily, and soon forgotten..., jumping on to the next. Each of the other stories have a lot of human insight to offer. And it is a joy reading them, too.
November 3, 2021
Ce mult mi-a plăcut să reîntâlnesc proza lui Fowles, gândurile personajelor sale despre viață, artă şi iubire!
E ceva special în scriitura sa, ceva ce mă vrăjeşte de fiecare dată.
E ceva special în scriitura sa, ceva ce mă vrăjeşte de fiecare dată.
March 27, 2022
24.03
12:13 Davai ma ei jaksa oma elule mõelda enam hetkel niiet ma teen sellest raamatust live update'e. Algus on literally täpselt sama mis maag. nagu literally. mingi nice ass häärber pärapõrgus kus peidab ennast mingi esoteeriline rikas vanamees. Hoovis on nagu maagiski kaks paljast 22a tüdrukut kes meie minategelasele, käed kalliks laiali sirutatult, vastu võtavad.
12:44 olen lugenud veel 6 lk (jah ma sakin) hästi palju näiteid kunstist jutustades vanamehe elulugu.
13:21 lk 24, nyyd läheb veic huvitavamaks, kunstnikud räägiva omavahel. peategelane intervjueerib (kas see õige kirjapilt??) vanameest sest ta on kunstnik ja see on huvitav v midagi sellist.
14:22 lk 42 ma ei viici enam raamatu sisust rääkida väga. okei ma proovin mua kallis lugeja(kes sa oled ja miks sa seda loed? kas sulle meeldib inimestele haiget teha?) Vanamees on väga kibestunud ja vihkab väga sügavalt abstraktset kunsti, uurimaiks vaenlasteiks Polloc ja Picasso JA meie paljuarmastatud, igatisümpaatne peategelane. Igatahes tagasi oluliste asjade juured. miks raamatukog kolmana korruse pissuaarid otsustavad sind pritsida, kui sa astud neile lähemale kui pool meetrit. ma pole küll eesti kurikuulsaim toote(mööbli?) disainer, aga ma tean tema tütart ja ma arvan et see annab mulle piisavalt kredibiilsust virisda selle ilmselge erroriga. MV? ma tahan ainult rahus kusta minema selle neljapäeva, ilma et mu püksid kattuksid lisaks niigi vältimatutele uriinipritsmetele ka veelgirõvedama veega teie sitasest pissuaarist. Igatahes ma kavatsen ennast järgmiseks paariks päevaks lugemise laine viia ja selleks et sellest päriselt midagi välja tuleks loen ma täna selle torniraamatu läbi. Eebenipuust torn ("raamatu" pealkiri) sümboliseerib tegelikult aastal 2013 rootsi kruiisilt sõpradele edasimüümiseks ostetud huuletubakakarpide virna. Sorry to say kõik kes ootasid muud? Lugege ise kui vaielda tahate. Aight, ma hyppan sisse jälle.
15:18 lk 52 ma päästan fudlerist eine ja ostan teepeal kusntipoest savi. Raamat literally mainis Maagi, üks alasti teenijanna luges seda järve ääres.
25.03
11:06 lk 66. Väga hea hakkab grippima kahju et see kohe läbi saab ja kahju et ma liigapalju subtexti yritan lugeda sest ma olen see followb ysna täpsel maagi scripti.
27.03
19:49 lk 93 (viimane) (lõpp) Faking kellakeeramine keeras mu sisemmise kella pekki ja ma jõudsin selle raamatuga yhele poole alles täna hilisel pärastlõunal, ehk 10min tagasi.
Kas sa tead seda vastikut tunnet, kui sa pead naasma oma igava naise juurede peale 2 päeva täielikku deliiriumit, milles kaks art hoed ja nende vastik vanaisa on sind terve aja edge'inud, ainult selleks, et sind lõpuks mingisugusest segasest kahjurõõmust tingituna siiski kuivale jätta? Ei? No härra John H. Fowles'il on sulle häid uudiseid: tema teab ja ta kirjutas sellest raamatu: EEBENIPUUST TORN.
Siin on kaks passegeit mis mulle meeldisid (vb tegelt veel aga pärastlõuna on hiline ja tatar vajab keetmist):
Fowles(miks nii lyhikest nime nii raske spellida on, v olen ma taun) 16:12
"Nüüd ei maalinud kunstnik enam inimeste, ja mis kõige hullem, iseenda jaoks; vaid intellektide, teooriate tarvis. Muidugi tõi see moeainet ja materiaalset tulu; aga tegelikult oli inimkeha ja tema loomulike füüsiliste tajude üle parda heitmine loonu suletud pöörise, nõiaspiraali, kõikeimava tühjuse , kus kunstnik ja kriitik nõustusid ainult ühes punktis: et üksenes nemad eksisteerivad, omavad tähtsust"
ja veel Fowles 54:46
Lõppude lõpuks taanuds kõik juba sündides antule: sul kas olid äärmusi ihkav temperament ja hoolimatu egotsentrism, võime hoida mõtteid ja tundeid lahus - või ei olnud; ja Davidil ei olnud.
lõpetuseks mainin et tegel huvitav lugemine. Aitäh Juhanile, peale tema goodreadsi soovituset leidsin et mul on raamaturiiulis see olemas. Kui tore kas pole. See raamat lagunes lugemise käigus kaheks tükiks, ma a a a a aa a a parandasin ta ära kasutates maagilise plastikuajastu leiutist nimega kleeplint. Niiet kui keegi tahab ss võin laenata oma eksemplari, kohe kui ma olen jõudnud sinna sisse kirjutada oma elu teise ex librise.
Private notes sneak peek: on naljaks, et kui ma selle raamatuga alustasin siis ma olin literally mentaalselt veic sealsamas kasutamata võimaluste kahetsemise kohas, kus peategelane on raamatu lõpus niiet seet tegelt hittis väga hästi.
PS: kui sul on sügavaid probleeme mu keelekasutuse v kirjavigadega siis suck my balls
12:13 Davai ma ei jaksa oma elule mõelda enam hetkel niiet ma teen sellest raamatust live update'e. Algus on literally täpselt sama mis maag. nagu literally. mingi nice ass häärber pärapõrgus kus peidab ennast mingi esoteeriline rikas vanamees. Hoovis on nagu maagiski kaks paljast 22a tüdrukut kes meie minategelasele, käed kalliks laiali sirutatult, vastu võtavad.
12:44 olen lugenud veel 6 lk (jah ma sakin) hästi palju näiteid kunstist jutustades vanamehe elulugu.
13:21 lk 24, nyyd läheb veic huvitavamaks, kunstnikud räägiva omavahel. peategelane intervjueerib (kas see õige kirjapilt??) vanameest sest ta on kunstnik ja see on huvitav v midagi sellist.
14:22 lk 42 ma ei viici enam raamatu sisust rääkida väga. okei ma proovin mua kallis lugeja(kes sa oled ja miks sa seda loed? kas sulle meeldib inimestele haiget teha?) Vanamees on väga kibestunud ja vihkab väga sügavalt abstraktset kunsti, uurimaiks vaenlasteiks Polloc ja Picasso JA meie paljuarmastatud, igatisümpaatne peategelane. Igatahes tagasi oluliste asjade juured. miks raamatukog kolmana korruse pissuaarid otsustavad sind pritsida, kui sa astud neile lähemale kui pool meetrit. ma pole küll eesti kurikuulsaim toote(mööbli?) disainer, aga ma tean tema tütart ja ma arvan et see annab mulle piisavalt kredibiilsust virisda selle ilmselge erroriga. MV? ma tahan ainult rahus kusta minema selle neljapäeva, ilma et mu püksid kattuksid lisaks niigi vältimatutele uriinipritsmetele ka veelgirõvedama veega teie sitasest pissuaarist. Igatahes ma kavatsen ennast järgmiseks paariks päevaks lugemise laine viia ja selleks et sellest päriselt midagi välja tuleks loen ma täna selle torniraamatu läbi. Eebenipuust torn ("raamatu" pealkiri) sümboliseerib tegelikult aastal 2013 rootsi kruiisilt sõpradele edasimüümiseks ostetud huuletubakakarpide virna. Sorry to say kõik kes ootasid muud? Lugege ise kui vaielda tahate. Aight, ma hyppan sisse jälle.
15:18 lk 52 ma päästan fudlerist eine ja ostan teepeal kusntipoest savi. Raamat literally mainis Maagi, üks alasti teenijanna luges seda järve ääres.
25.03
11:06 lk 66. Väga hea hakkab grippima kahju et see kohe läbi saab ja kahju et ma liigapalju subtexti yritan lugeda sest ma olen see followb ysna täpsel maagi scripti.
27.03
19:49 lk 93 (viimane) (lõpp) Faking kellakeeramine keeras mu sisemmise kella pekki ja ma jõudsin selle raamatuga yhele poole alles täna hilisel pärastlõunal, ehk 10min tagasi.
Kas sa tead seda vastikut tunnet, kui sa pead naasma oma igava naise juurede peale 2 päeva täielikku deliiriumit, milles kaks art hoed ja nende vastik vanaisa on sind terve aja edge'inud, ainult selleks, et sind lõpuks mingisugusest segasest kahjurõõmust tingituna siiski kuivale jätta? Ei? No härra John H. Fowles'il on sulle häid uudiseid: tema teab ja ta kirjutas sellest raamatu: EEBENIPUUST TORN.
Siin on kaks passegeit mis mulle meeldisid (vb tegelt veel aga pärastlõuna on hiline ja tatar vajab keetmist):
Fowles(miks nii lyhikest nime nii raske spellida on, v olen ma taun) 16:12
"Nüüd ei maalinud kunstnik enam inimeste, ja mis kõige hullem, iseenda jaoks; vaid intellektide, teooriate tarvis. Muidugi tõi see moeainet ja materiaalset tulu; aga tegelikult oli inimkeha ja tema loomulike füüsiliste tajude üle parda heitmine loonu suletud pöörise, nõiaspiraali, kõikeimava tühjuse , kus kunstnik ja kriitik nõustusid ainult ühes punktis: et üksenes nemad eksisteerivad, omavad tähtsust"
ja veel Fowles 54:46
Lõppude lõpuks taanuds kõik juba sündides antule: sul kas olid äärmusi ihkav temperament ja hoolimatu egotsentrism, võime hoida mõtteid ja tundeid lahus - või ei olnud; ja Davidil ei olnud.
lõpetuseks mainin et tegel huvitav lugemine. Aitäh Juhanile, peale tema goodreadsi soovituset leidsin et mul on raamaturiiulis see olemas. Kui tore kas pole. See raamat lagunes lugemise käigus kaheks tükiks, ma a a a a aa a a parandasin ta ära kasutates maagilise plastikuajastu leiutist nimega kleeplint. Niiet kui keegi tahab ss võin laenata oma eksemplari, kohe kui ma olen jõudnud sinna sisse kirjutada oma elu teise ex librise.
Private notes sneak peek: on naljaks, et kui ma selle raamatuga alustasin siis ma olin literally mentaalselt veic sealsamas kasutamata võimaluste kahetsemise kohas, kus peategelane on raamatu lõpus niiet seet tegelt hittis väga hästi.
PS: kui sul on sügavaid probleeme mu keelekasutuse v kirjavigadega siis suck my balls
September 14, 2017
Şu ana kadar okuduğum fowles kitapları içinde en farklı olanı diyebilirim. İnsanın bilinçaltını yoklayan, yaptığı sembolik göndermelerle kararlarımızın altında yatan ferçeklerle yüzleşmemizi sağlayan bir yanı var.
April 24, 2024
От години се опитвам да се срещна с творчеството на Фаулз, но по различни причини все не му идваше времето. Тази първа среща беше много вълнуваща и със сигурност ще потърся още такива. Прочитът на човешките отношения в разказите му е много искрен, емоциите са толкова фино поднесени, диалозите - естествени, а описанията - красиви. Не мога да не оценя високо описанията на социалните порядки и действителността. Истинско удоволствие беше да се докосна до разсъжденията му, поднесени с естетично чувство за хумор.
April 15, 2025
نگاه جزئینگر جالبی داشت و درونیات آدمها را به خوبی توصیف میکرد اما به نظرم کمی خسته کننده آمد.
June 1, 2025
Не перестаю дивуватися і захоплюватися майстерністю автора. Четвірка лише тому, що не всі оповідання мені резонували, але то моє- не автора
August 30, 2023
Fowles’in beş öykülük kitabının açılışını esere ismini veren “Abanoz Kule” ile yapıyoruz. Burada bohem hayatı yaşayan yaşlı ressamın insanı büyüleyen malikanesi bir nevi Dracula Şatosu işlevi görüyor karakterlerden birine dönüşmesi ile. İki genç kızın her ihtiyacını karşıladığı konağın ziyaretçisi ise yine bir ressam olan ve biyografi için gelmiş evli karakterimiz. Elbette türlü cinsel imalardan sonra “menage-a-trois” imkanı doğuyor ancak burada ahlak anlayışının doğuştan gelmesiyle kaybeden oluşunuzun ve sanatçıların özünde “piç” olmalarıyla bir karşıt duruş, rahatlık sergiledikleri gibi bir mesaja dönüşüyor.
Lakin 100 sayfaya yakın süren öykü, bitişini de, akıcı ve vurucu kalıbına yaraşır biçimde yapıyor ve referans verdiği halk hikayesi “Eliduc” ile devam ediyor.
Fowles’in ikinci (kitaptaki üçüncü) öyküsü “Zavallı Koko” (Koko burada meşhur gorile değil, palyaçoya gönderme), eve giren hırsızla karşılaşan ve yine biyografi yazmakta olan edebiyatçıya ve ikisinin arasında geçen kuşak ve ideoloji farklılıkları üzerine geçen sohbete dayanıyor. Hırsız işini bitirdikten sonra beklenmedik bir eyleme girişiyor ve yazarımıza bunun çözümlemesi için okuru da içine alan geniş bir zaman dilimi bırakıyor.
Sonraki öykü “Muamma” aslında “kim yaptı” türünde Agatha Christie cinayetlerini ansıtan bir kayboluş gizemi. Dedektif ünlü siyasinin tüm ailesini sorguluyor ve hatta yine bir romans doğuyor ancak burada öyküyü türdeşlerinden ayıran iki detay var:
Birincisi meta yapısı. Sonlarda hafiyeliğe bürünen kızımız “biz aslında bir yazarın karakterleri olsak cinayeti nasıl çözümlerdi?” sorusuyla başlayıp dördüncü duvarı yıkan bir rampaya giriyor ve beni ikinci bulguya sürüklüyor:
Bu öyküde kayboluş aslında tamamen bir MacGuffin. Yani Hitchcock’un bizlere sunduğu açıklama ile, aslında sadece hikayeyi başka bir yöne itelemeye yarayan ve işlevini sonunda kaybeden bir detay. Bilimsel açıdan “katalizör” de diyebiliriz.
Bu öykü ile ilk öyküyü birleştiren kadın detayı da var: Her ikisinde de arzu nesnesi kadın bir başkası ile birlikte, “sadece” yatıp kalkıyor ama baş karakteri tamamlayacak yapboz parçalarına sahip. Özellikle ilk öyküde kadının “sahibi” tarafından ele alınış biçimi gayet aşağılayıcı. Erkek okura empati kurması adına klasik “lady in distress (damsel in distress)” kalıbı sunulmuyor, aksine bu yıkılarak başka bir forma bürünüyor (sonrası Yeraltı Edebiyatı ve ötesi).
Son öykü bana Cheever’in "Yüzücü"sünü anımsattı, tamamlamak için kalan vaktimi ve kapanan gözlerimi Olalla için harcadım ve 4/5 zaten beğendiğim kitabı yine elime almak için bahane olarak rafıma geri yerleştirdim.
Lakin 100 sayfaya yakın süren öykü, bitişini de, akıcı ve vurucu kalıbına yaraşır biçimde yapıyor ve referans verdiği halk hikayesi “Eliduc” ile devam ediyor.
Fowles’in ikinci (kitaptaki üçüncü) öyküsü “Zavallı Koko” (Koko burada meşhur gorile değil, palyaçoya gönderme), eve giren hırsızla karşılaşan ve yine biyografi yazmakta olan edebiyatçıya ve ikisinin arasında geçen kuşak ve ideoloji farklılıkları üzerine geçen sohbete dayanıyor. Hırsız işini bitirdikten sonra beklenmedik bir eyleme girişiyor ve yazarımıza bunun çözümlemesi için okuru da içine alan geniş bir zaman dilimi bırakıyor.
Sonraki öykü “Muamma” aslında “kim yaptı” türünde Agatha Christie cinayetlerini ansıtan bir kayboluş gizemi. Dedektif ünlü siyasinin tüm ailesini sorguluyor ve hatta yine bir romans doğuyor ancak burada öyküyü türdeşlerinden ayıran iki detay var:
Birincisi meta yapısı. Sonlarda hafiyeliğe bürünen kızımız “biz aslında bir yazarın karakterleri olsak cinayeti nasıl çözümlerdi?” sorusuyla başlayıp dördüncü duvarı yıkan bir rampaya giriyor ve beni ikinci bulguya sürüklüyor:
Bu öyküde kayboluş aslında tamamen bir MacGuffin. Yani Hitchcock’un bizlere sunduğu açıklama ile, aslında sadece hikayeyi başka bir yöne itelemeye yarayan ve işlevini sonunda kaybeden bir detay. Bilimsel açıdan “katalizör” de diyebiliriz.
Bu öykü ile ilk öyküyü birleştiren kadın detayı da var: Her ikisinde de arzu nesnesi kadın bir başkası ile birlikte, “sadece” yatıp kalkıyor ama baş karakteri tamamlayacak yapboz parçalarına sahip. Özellikle ilk öyküde kadının “sahibi” tarafından ele alınış biçimi gayet aşağılayıcı. Erkek okura empati kurması adına klasik “lady in distress (damsel in distress)” kalıbı sunulmuyor, aksine bu yıkılarak başka bir forma bürünüyor (sonrası Yeraltı Edebiyatı ve ötesi).
Son öykü bana Cheever’in "Yüzücü"sünü anımsattı, tamamlamak için kalan vaktimi ve kapanan gözlerimi Olalla için harcadım ve 4/5 zaten beğendiğim kitabı yine elime almak için bahane olarak rafıma geri yerleştirdim.
June 22, 2020
4.5
My 2nd Fowles after the epic "The Magus" that I discovered back in 2018.
What I can state - and learn - from this book is an exceptional ability in the use of language. By this I absolutely do not mean an exquisite mastery of the grammar and syntax (which as an Oxford alumni one would not expect Fowles to be deprived of) rather a kind of artisan like aptitude to pull all the strings language allows for creating scenes, meanings and intentions by pure suggestive allusion. Fowles writing makes me feel a bit like enjoying a pleasant trip in a luxurious and secluded island. We are surrounded by the lush green and blue hues of an unspoilt and sensual nature. A primeval journey that attracts both the instinct and the spirit. And all the sudden, feet start feeling waves throbbing from the earth underneath and in less than the blink of an eye one is surrounded by a voracious lava beaming red.
No one describes sexual tension as remarkably as Fowles. And tension and frustration are in Fowles' stories devices that trigger the main character into a soul searching journey and take the reader as the empathic witness.
But I can also say that never before was I so divided by the atmosphere of a book. And by atmosphere I mean the particular male gaze on women - as omniscient male observer watching his favourite delicacy dish from afar.
It is sexy, no doubt of it. But highly contentious to my female awareness as it somehow personifies the reality of a predator and a prey. Unequal in power, unequal in chances, unequal in consequences. However, there is no such flawed reality in the stories and of course Fowles does much better. Female characters are strong willed, are carved with depth and rugged texture.
And this combination makes the result of some of the encounters presented in these stories incredibly rich and enticing.
That good old Fowles!
My 2nd Fowles after the epic "The Magus" that I discovered back in 2018.
What I can state - and learn - from this book is an exceptional ability in the use of language. By this I absolutely do not mean an exquisite mastery of the grammar and syntax (which as an Oxford alumni one would not expect Fowles to be deprived of) rather a kind of artisan like aptitude to pull all the strings language allows for creating scenes, meanings and intentions by pure suggestive allusion. Fowles writing makes me feel a bit like enjoying a pleasant trip in a luxurious and secluded island. We are surrounded by the lush green and blue hues of an unspoilt and sensual nature. A primeval journey that attracts both the instinct and the spirit. And all the sudden, feet start feeling waves throbbing from the earth underneath and in less than the blink of an eye one is surrounded by a voracious lava beaming red.
No one describes sexual tension as remarkably as Fowles. And tension and frustration are in Fowles' stories devices that trigger the main character into a soul searching journey and take the reader as the empathic witness.
But I can also say that never before was I so divided by the atmosphere of a book. And by atmosphere I mean the particular male gaze on women - as omniscient male observer watching his favourite delicacy dish from afar.
It is sexy, no doubt of it. But highly contentious to my female awareness as it somehow personifies the reality of a predator and a prey. Unequal in power, unequal in chances, unequal in consequences. However, there is no such flawed reality in the stories and of course Fowles does much better. Female characters are strong willed, are carved with depth and rugged texture.
And this combination makes the result of some of the encounters presented in these stories incredibly rich and enticing.
That good old Fowles!
September 1, 2020
If you already love John Fowles then you’ll probably love The Ebony Tower. If you hate him you almost certainly won’t and if you’ve never read him before it could go either way but I’d argue this is probably not the best place to start or from which to reach a definitive judgment.
This collection of longish short stories feels a little like reading sketches for his better known full-length novels, although that’s not in fact the case as this was published the best part of a decade after The Collector and The Magus and about six years after the French Lieutenant’s Woman.
Fowles himself originally wanted the book to be called “Variations” and if you’ve read his other stuff you’ll quickly understand why. The stories play around with the major themes covered in his novels, sometimes introducing a different twist, in a couple of cases going in a very different direction and in one stepping out of the narrative altogether to examine the different ways in which a situation could be interpreted. This is a quintessentially John Fowles move and explains my earlier comment about either loving or hating this kind of thing.
I say “this kind of thing”, when John Fowles had in my humble opinion an absolutely distinctive style of the sort that could reasonably have justified a Nobel Prize or something of that order of literary merit. Not every story in this collection is a smash hit but the title story is a very interesting re-tread of the themes covered in The Magus, while Poor Koko has one of the most unexpected and unsettling twists I’ve read in a long time.
This collection of longish short stories feels a little like reading sketches for his better known full-length novels, although that’s not in fact the case as this was published the best part of a decade after The Collector and The Magus and about six years after the French Lieutenant’s Woman.
Fowles himself originally wanted the book to be called “Variations” and if you’ve read his other stuff you’ll quickly understand why. The stories play around with the major themes covered in his novels, sometimes introducing a different twist, in a couple of cases going in a very different direction and in one stepping out of the narrative altogether to examine the different ways in which a situation could be interpreted. This is a quintessentially John Fowles move and explains my earlier comment about either loving or hating this kind of thing.
I say “this kind of thing”, when John Fowles had in my humble opinion an absolutely distinctive style of the sort that could reasonably have justified a Nobel Prize or something of that order of literary merit. Not every story in this collection is a smash hit but the title story is a very interesting re-tread of the themes covered in The Magus, while Poor Koko has one of the most unexpected and unsettling twists I’ve read in a long time.
September 6, 2018
Do yourself a favor and skip the Marie de France translation. It's strange that such an amazing writer could do such a terrible job translating something.
Go directly to Poor Koko, which is without a doubt the best of the collection. Then maybe re-read the French Lieutenant's Woman.
Go directly to Poor Koko, which is without a doubt the best of the collection. Then maybe re-read the French Lieutenant's Woman.
May 12, 2013
The importance of the once endless forest.
January 14, 2025
این رمان درباره روابط انسانی، هویت هنری و تعامل میان خیال و واقعیت است و ترکیبی از احساسات متضاد - عشق و نفرت، لذت و درد - را به تصویر میکشد و شکنندگی و عمق ارتباطات انسانی را به نمایش میگذارد.
«در پایان همه چیز به خصلتی منتهی می شود که انسان با آن به دنیا می آید. انسان یا سرشت لازم را برای تجاوز از حدود خود، برای ابراز سنگدلی و خودخواهی، برای اندیشه و احساس در قلمرویی متفاوت دارد یا ندارد..»
«در پایان همه چیز به خصلتی منتهی می شود که انسان با آن به دنیا می آید. انسان یا سرشت لازم را برای تجاوز از حدود خود، برای ابراز سنگدلی و خودخواهی، برای اندیشه و احساس در قلمرویی متفاوت دارد یا ندارد..»
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