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Albert e la balena
Nel 1520 una balena di dimensioni inaudite si arena su una spiaggia olandese. Gli abitanti della zona non hanno mai visto nulla del genere e ne sono assieme attratti e spaventati. La notizia scivola di bocca in bocca e giunge fino alle orecchie di Albrecht Dürer, che, a ormai quasi cinquant’anni, dopo aver raffigurato apocalissi e imperatori e senza più il sostegno del suo mecenate, è in cerca di nuove avventure. Così decide di imbarcarsi e partire verso l’animale morente. Per lui il viaggio rappresenta l’occasione di una vita: la possibilità di incidere un ritratto dell’ignoto, sfidare la grandezza di Dio e passare alla storia. Ma quando giunge su quella spiaggia, la balena è scomparsa.
Albert e la balena parte dal racconto della folle spedizione di Dürer e si espande fino a diventare la biografia di un personaggio dalle molte anime, un bestiario eccentrico, una rassegna di spiriti ribelli, un memoir e una dissertazione sul rapporto tra arte e vita. Con una scrittura di rara eleganza, Philip Hoare dà vita a una narrazione liquida in cui si confondono le epoche e i personaggi, le discipline e gli immaginari. Un’opera che si rivolge a tutti noi: perché anche se Dürer non vide mai la balena, la sua impresa ci mostra come solo inseguendo fino in fondo un desiderio il mare del possibile può spalancarsi.
«Seguo il tratto di Dürer senza fiato, come farei con uno spartito. Le sue parole si portano dietro un inchiostro color seppia venuto dal mare. Un’apparizione di puro splendore.»
«Un autore sempre originale, sempre alla ricerca di qualcosa di nuovo.» Olivia Laing
«Albert e la balena è molto di più che una biografia di Albrecht Dürer. È un libro splendido ed eclettico, che ci avvolge e ci invita, come il mare.» The Times
Albert e la balena parte dal racconto della folle spedizione di Dürer e si espande fino a diventare la biografia di un personaggio dalle molte anime, un bestiario eccentrico, una rassegna di spiriti ribelli, un memoir e una dissertazione sul rapporto tra arte e vita. Con una scrittura di rara eleganza, Philip Hoare dà vita a una narrazione liquida in cui si confondono le epoche e i personaggi, le discipline e gli immaginari. Un’opera che si rivolge a tutti noi: perché anche se Dürer non vide mai la balena, la sua impresa ci mostra come solo inseguendo fino in fondo un desiderio il mare del possibile può spalancarsi.
«Seguo il tratto di Dürer senza fiato, come farei con uno spartito. Le sue parole si portano dietro un inchiostro color seppia venuto dal mare. Un’apparizione di puro splendore.»
«Un autore sempre originale, sempre alla ricerca di qualcosa di nuovo.» Olivia Laing
«Albert e la balena è molto di più che una biografia di Albrecht Dürer. È un libro splendido ed eclettico, che ci avvolge e ci invita, come il mare.» The Times
312 pages, Paperback
Published July 1, 2022
111 people are currently reading
1483 people want to read
About the author
Philip Hoare
44 books132 followersPhilip Hoare is an English writer, especially of history and biography. He instigated the Moby Dick Big Read project. He is Professor of Creative Writing at the University of Southampton and Leverhulme artist-in-residence at the Marine Institute, Plymouth University, which awarded him an honorary doctorate in 2011.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 96 reviews
August 20, 2021
First, if you're going to read this book, go to the website mentioned in Sources at the back of the book to get the notes that identifies the drawings and photos in the body of the book. The publishers must have felt that the notes were not worthy of including in the published book itself. They are necessary if you have any curiosity about what is printed in the book since the photos are not identified.
Second, the title should be "Albert and Many Others and the Whale". There are many pages devoted to Panofsky, Thomas Mann and his family, Marianne Moore and references to Freud, Nietzsche, plus, I believe, a mention of the authors of every book Hoare had ever read. If you read this book, prepare to be overwhelmed with references from not just the time of Durer but to almost every century since.
Third, I found the style of writing difficult. Hoare doesn't use quotation marks when citing the words of others and I found the use of first person, second person, and third person confusing. Often I didn't know if what I was reading were the thoughts of Hoare, Durer, or another third person currently under discussion.
Second, the title should be "Albert and Many Others and the Whale". There are many pages devoted to Panofsky, Thomas Mann and his family, Marianne Moore and references to Freud, Nietzsche, plus, I believe, a mention of the authors of every book Hoare had ever read. If you read this book, prepare to be overwhelmed with references from not just the time of Durer but to almost every century since.
Third, I found the style of writing difficult. Hoare doesn't use quotation marks when citing the words of others and I found the use of first person, second person, and third person confusing. Often I didn't know if what I was reading were the thoughts of Hoare, Durer, or another third person currently under discussion.
May 2, 2021
This was an interesting, if quirky, read at first. However, it quickly seemed to lose its way. The author's mission seemed to be to embrace as many whale references as possible and to hang them onto a construct that tied all the thinking from Durer's time through to the present day. For me, it didn't work and I gave up about two-thirds the way through.
April 12, 2021
To use a clichee: Lightning has struck. Philipp Hoare has fallen for Albrecht Dürer–big time. In his latest book he embarks unto a veritable pilgrimage to see Dürer‘s key works as well as a number of places the artist has been to. Utterly entranced especially by the sensuous beauty of Dürer’s self portraits, Hoare ponders (as well as wonders) about the almost visceral reactions of a number of other writers to the genius and his works, among them Thomas Mann, his son Klaus Mann, Christopher Isherwood and W.H. Auden, Marianne Moore, and W.G. Sebald. Being Hoare, he combines these musings with intriguing tales of the whale, his own totem animal and what he presumes would surely have enthralled Dürer’s fantasy likewise, had not in December 1520 a near-fatal storm prevented his ship to reach a beach in Walcheren in Dutch Zeeland, where a whale had lain stranded. That Hoare himself suffers from Dupuytren’s contracture, a disfiguration he also detects in a number of hands drawn and painted by Dürer, most conspiciously in his Munich self-portrait, adds yet another layer of connectedness between the two artists.
The quasi impressionistic style of Hoare’s associations asks for a reader who is quite well-versed in German literature, art and history. The art historian in me quite loved all of this name dropping, but I certainly did not follow Hoare's flight of ideas in all its intricacies. Probably to highten the poetic quality of the reading experience he often, somewhat chummily, refers to people by their first name only; places are not named but summarized pars pro toto as „cobble-stone-paving“ or „cathedral town“; David Bowie e.g. is regularly quoted as „the star man“. All this speaking in codes and transgression of times, genres and even genders sometimes worked beautifully, but sometimes just left me disoriented, as if I was listening in to a story being told at a neighbouring table in a rather quirky bohemian restaurant.
The quasi impressionistic style of Hoare’s associations asks for a reader who is quite well-versed in German literature, art and history. The art historian in me quite loved all of this name dropping, but I certainly did not follow Hoare's flight of ideas in all its intricacies. Probably to highten the poetic quality of the reading experience he often, somewhat chummily, refers to people by their first name only; places are not named but summarized pars pro toto as „cobble-stone-paving“ or „cathedral town“; David Bowie e.g. is regularly quoted as „the star man“. All this speaking in codes and transgression of times, genres and even genders sometimes worked beautifully, but sometimes just left me disoriented, as if I was listening in to a story being told at a neighbouring table in a rather quirky bohemian restaurant.
October 6, 2024
Well, I liked the parts that were actually about Durer. I relished his appreciation of an old British film I thought no one but my husband and I had ever heard of. Hoare is whale-mad, sea-crazy, and that's fine too, and he has assembled some wonderful performance pieces of Moby Dick and Coleridge. But this odd book wandered across the globe, into the stars, beneath the sea, to David Bowie and back, and the loss of focus just lost me. The illustrations, while often charming and essential to following the text, were too often tiny, poor quality, and not fully identified. And for this librarian, being sent to a website for sources and references is a sin. Bits and pieces - even large chunks - of interesting history, art appreciation, and cosmology (hence the second star), but too "all over the place" to coalesce into much meaning.
March 28, 2024
Philip Hoare is a wonderful writer of fascinating, idiosyncratic, and thought provoking books - I love his writing and his approach to life, art, thought, you name it I probably like Mr. Hoare's approach. So of course this book is marvellous - what is it about? Albrecht Durer - his art, why it has lasted but of course it is so much more, so very much more. If you have read and enjoyed anything else by him then you need no encouragement to pick up this book. If you haven't then I strongly suggest you try it and discover a well spring of ideas and a great reading pleasure.
September 30, 2021
At the very end of this captivating, frustrating, joy of an imaginative leap of a book, Hoare ends with this quote from the poet Marianne Moore: 'If what you have been reading savors of mythology, could I make it up? and if I could, would I impose on you?'
And that is the clue to the whole process of reading this leviathan (of concepts, if not number of pages) of a journey of ideas in the extraordinary art, life, and mind of Albrecht Dürer. It is a book of hours; if text can be trans or gender fluid, this text is. Through the profusely-illustrated pages documenting Dürer's impeccable renderings of the natural, and the oceanic, the 'whale' becomes the focus for a labyrinthine and progressively mesmerizing tale of art, literature, philosophy, sexuality, religion, and science. Yet, one can't approach it in any form of 'linear' reading. You have to throw away and concept of 'this logically follows that.' Instead, Hoare weaves a web of inter-related glories of thoughts and concepts, using Dürer's art as a kind of vast sea vessel of ideas, on which we are taken to ports, different and strange, and yet keep waiting for the next voyage. To say it is a book of ideas, is to deprive the book of so much more than that. Within each chapter -- such as 'Mercy', 'Genius,' 'Revelation,' 'Star,' 'Adoration,' the author presents Dürer's genius of art, and the author's own appreciation of his mind-expanding life. Along the journey are Herman Melville and his great 'Moby Dick', Darwin, poets, Thomas Mann, and the aforementioned Marianne Moore. It is not an easy read for those who are not willing to just let go and follow its meander. So many threads of the main subjects are juxtaposed with the author's own experiences, yet in the end, it becomes almost an amalgam of Lewis Carrol and Edward Gorey, with some Gertude Stein thrown in. I have never read anything like it, but I came away from it running back to a completely new experience of the artist, whales, and so much in between. A criticism has been made that the profuse number of b/w illustrations are too small -- well, perhaps a few, but the wealth of the illustrations are also what kept me turning the pages. One of the most unique reading experiences I have ever had, and one I will always keep coming back to.
And that is the clue to the whole process of reading this leviathan (of concepts, if not number of pages) of a journey of ideas in the extraordinary art, life, and mind of Albrecht Dürer. It is a book of hours; if text can be trans or gender fluid, this text is. Through the profusely-illustrated pages documenting Dürer's impeccable renderings of the natural, and the oceanic, the 'whale' becomes the focus for a labyrinthine and progressively mesmerizing tale of art, literature, philosophy, sexuality, religion, and science. Yet, one can't approach it in any form of 'linear' reading. You have to throw away and concept of 'this logically follows that.' Instead, Hoare weaves a web of inter-related glories of thoughts and concepts, using Dürer's art as a kind of vast sea vessel of ideas, on which we are taken to ports, different and strange, and yet keep waiting for the next voyage. To say it is a book of ideas, is to deprive the book of so much more than that. Within each chapter -- such as 'Mercy', 'Genius,' 'Revelation,' 'Star,' 'Adoration,' the author presents Dürer's genius of art, and the author's own appreciation of his mind-expanding life. Along the journey are Herman Melville and his great 'Moby Dick', Darwin, poets, Thomas Mann, and the aforementioned Marianne Moore. It is not an easy read for those who are not willing to just let go and follow its meander. So many threads of the main subjects are juxtaposed with the author's own experiences, yet in the end, it becomes almost an amalgam of Lewis Carrol and Edward Gorey, with some Gertude Stein thrown in. I have never read anything like it, but I came away from it running back to a completely new experience of the artist, whales, and so much in between. A criticism has been made that the profuse number of b/w illustrations are too small -- well, perhaps a few, but the wealth of the illustrations are also what kept me turning the pages. One of the most unique reading experiences I have ever had, and one I will always keep coming back to.
July 30, 2021
This is an unusual book and a surprise to read. I mean a good surprise rather than a bad one, since I hate to give up on books once I have started but I also really dislike forcing my way through a stinker that I had not expected. This book focuses on Albrecht Durer, an artist I have loved since high school. The Art Institute of Chicago has a large collection of Durer prints that anyone interested in Northern Renaissance art gets to know well. Durer’s paintings and prints fit in well with artists like Bruegel, Bosch, and Van Eyck. A book about Durer seemed worthwhile, especially one focused on a particular event - Durer’s trip to see a beached whale on the Dutch shoreline.
Anyway, it was not so simple. First, this is not a biography of Durer, although there are a few available that Hoare’s book makes good use of in tell his story. Second, the story of the whale is a relatively small part of the larger book, although it is still engaging. There is still lots of material on Durer. I won’t say any more to avoid spoilers. The book is a fairly well constructed set of essays that concern the interactions of man with nature, of nature with society,
Professor Hoare is an excellent writer, who apparently has a following. He also really like whales of all sorts and knows a lot about them. At the same time, he is harshly critical of virtually all interactions between men and whales which uniformly end up badly. It is not surprising that Melville was influenced by Durer.
The book is also interesting for how people were starting to figure out nature and the animal world in 1500. Some of the accounts make sense in terms of today; others are a bit stranger. Science was evolving but a number of the moving forces for change came from bored rulers looking for something interesting to do. Modern nomenclature was not yet agreed upon and eyewitness accounts of new and exotic animals let much to be desired.
But there is more… Hoare is an accomplished art scholar and cultural critic and several chapters pertain to later intellectual lights in Europe and America who were strongly influenced by Durer. In particular, Thomas Mann and his extended family feature in chapters that cover their struggles to escape from Germany to escape the clutches of the Nazis, and to fit into the US. Marianne Moore also receives her own chapter as well. This is not to say that Durer was absent from these chapters. For example his use to these expatriate artists was different than the use made of Durer by the Nazi regime. It does seem clear, however, that some of these chapters were modified/adapted to focus more on Durer.
This is OK. Even though the focus of the book strays a bit, the overall result is highly entertaining and thoughtful with each chapter having its own focus and nuance. I don’t know that I will be able to follow up on these leads, but who knows? This content is also very complementary with some other reading I have done lately about 20th century US intellectuals.
In addition to the essays, there is also lots of artistic content throughout the book, with a good set of Durer pieces that are nicely worked into the analysis.
Anyway, it was not so simple. First, this is not a biography of Durer, although there are a few available that Hoare’s book makes good use of in tell his story. Second, the story of the whale is a relatively small part of the larger book, although it is still engaging. There is still lots of material on Durer. I won’t say any more to avoid spoilers. The book is a fairly well constructed set of essays that concern the interactions of man with nature, of nature with society,
Professor Hoare is an excellent writer, who apparently has a following. He also really like whales of all sorts and knows a lot about them. At the same time, he is harshly critical of virtually all interactions between men and whales which uniformly end up badly. It is not surprising that Melville was influenced by Durer.
The book is also interesting for how people were starting to figure out nature and the animal world in 1500. Some of the accounts make sense in terms of today; others are a bit stranger. Science was evolving but a number of the moving forces for change came from bored rulers looking for something interesting to do. Modern nomenclature was not yet agreed upon and eyewitness accounts of new and exotic animals let much to be desired.
But there is more… Hoare is an accomplished art scholar and cultural critic and several chapters pertain to later intellectual lights in Europe and America who were strongly influenced by Durer. In particular, Thomas Mann and his extended family feature in chapters that cover their struggles to escape from Germany to escape the clutches of the Nazis, and to fit into the US. Marianne Moore also receives her own chapter as well. This is not to say that Durer was absent from these chapters. For example his use to these expatriate artists was different than the use made of Durer by the Nazi regime. It does seem clear, however, that some of these chapters were modified/adapted to focus more on Durer.
This is OK. Even though the focus of the book strays a bit, the overall result is highly entertaining and thoughtful with each chapter having its own focus and nuance. I don’t know that I will be able to follow up on these leads, but who knows? This content is also very complementary with some other reading I have done lately about 20th century US intellectuals.
In addition to the essays, there is also lots of artistic content throughout the book, with a good set of Durer pieces that are nicely worked into the analysis.
July 24, 2025
This might as well be titled “I love Albrecht Dürer and whales, and here are a lot of random things the combo makes me think of, as well as numerous personal experiences I can connect to them if I stretch." The book wanders freely among the life and works not just of Dürer, but also of Herman Melville, John Ruskin, Thomas Mann (and his children Erika and Klaus), Carl Jung, WH Auden, Marianne Moore, and WG Sebald. Some of Hoare’s connections were interesting and thought-provoking, but many depended on random associations that seemed wholly personal to him. There was no indication of source material or references, apart from visits to numerous museums, so I distrusted many of his assertions about the meaning of the connections he was trying to make. Possibly there are footnotes and bibliography in the print edition. This was the thing I found most frustrating: the unsupported assertions. I came away with the sense that Hoare is a little more in love with himself than I am comfortable with. He seems to assume that just because he finds an association fascinating and meaningful, his reader will as well. He makes little effort to convince us. He also loved to highlight the scandalous, which was wearying. In recounting his own experiences, he assumes the reader is already familiar with his own life and his circle of friends, which both made it hard to keep track of the people he mentions, and made me not care at all.
I’m glad I listened to the audiobook; if I’d been reading the print edition I’d probably have abandoned it before the halfway mark, but since I listened while driving or trying to fall asleep I was content to let his long set of digressions wash over me.
At 12 hours I’d call this book overlong.
2.5 stars
I’m glad I listened to the audiobook; if I’d been reading the print edition I’d probably have abandoned it before the halfway mark, but since I listened while driving or trying to fall asleep I was content to let his long set of digressions wash over me.
At 12 hours I’d call this book overlong.
2.5 stars
May 20, 2021
This is a book that defies categorization or description. Philip Hoare uses a failed trip Albrecht Dürer made to see a beached whale to take off on an excursion through the world and history of art, literature, natural history, music and so much more. Along the way Hoare mixes in Marianne Moore, Thomas Mann, W.H. Auden, David Bowie, and a surgery he underwent to unclench his fingers. I started reading Hoare's work with Leviathan, and have been a rapt and avid reader ever since. His books feel like puzzle boxes, guides, and most of all, immense gifts to me. He's the sort of thinker this world could use more of.
May 23, 2021
Difficult to follow.
June 29, 2021
A quirky journey that mixes philosophy, art, biography and memoir. Just hold on and ride the wave.
January 13, 2022
Sometimes interminable, sometimes wonderful. Don’t read it if you’re looking for a straightforward life of the artist. You’ll learn more about whales or Thomas Mann.
August 18, 2022
This book was not what I expected it to be!
What I was expecting: an art history book, exploring a specific theme in the art of Albrech Dürer. The blurb on the back suggested that this may be a quirky read and, with a name like Albert & the Whale, how could it not be?
What I got: I am not quite sure. Another reviewer used the word "uncategorizable" which is definitely fitting. The book defies genre; there are definitely strong elements of art history, general history, biography and memoir, as well as a kind of free association on the topic of whales.
I often felt that large sections of text went over my head, as it felt to me as though I lacked certain context which Hoare assumed I had. I experienced this feeling so frequently in the final third of the book, that I made peace with not knowing the context for certain passages which made the book more enjoyable (but also less informative). The cast of characters is broad: the poets Marianne Moore and W. H. Auden, the writers W. G. Sebald and Thomas Mann, the anatomist and surgeon-extraordinaire Guillaume Dupuytren (famed for his treatment of Napoleon's hemhorroids), the elusive but ever-present Starman, as well as the man himself Albrecht Dürer.
Dürer's art is remarkable and Hoare's descriptions, often of the quirks of each painting as opposed to the techniques employed by the artist to create it or it's overall theme, do them great justice. There are sections of the book, particularly the last few chapters, which may be described as fawning. This would usually irk me if I was reading a more orthodox art history book, but as this is anything but orthodox, it fit. Hoare's passion for and adulation of the book's titular protagonist is inspiring and relatable to those of us who have stopped dead in our tracks turning a corner in a museum and being ambushed by a Modigliani.
Amongst all the paintings and illustrations listed in the book, of which I feel his Self-Portrait at Twenty-Eight is the most sublime, the image which stuck with me the most is one which, as Hoare explains, Durer drew to explain to his doctor the precise source of his discomfort when struggling with a disease of the pancreas:
This is the yellow spot and when I press my finger on it, it hurts, reads the caption. So elaborate a self-portrait serving such a mundane function - this is the esteem in which Dürer hold's himself and which he compels us to hold him in.
While the book was frustrating at times for the reasons I mentioned previously, I am glad I read it and I intend to re-read it in the future, when I am less concerned about context and more able to allow myself to drift on Hoare's passages.
What I was expecting: an art history book, exploring a specific theme in the art of Albrech Dürer. The blurb on the back suggested that this may be a quirky read and, with a name like Albert & the Whale, how could it not be?
What I got: I am not quite sure. Another reviewer used the word "uncategorizable" which is definitely fitting. The book defies genre; there are definitely strong elements of art history, general history, biography and memoir, as well as a kind of free association on the topic of whales.
I often felt that large sections of text went over my head, as it felt to me as though I lacked certain context which Hoare assumed I had. I experienced this feeling so frequently in the final third of the book, that I made peace with not knowing the context for certain passages which made the book more enjoyable (but also less informative). The cast of characters is broad: the poets Marianne Moore and W. H. Auden, the writers W. G. Sebald and Thomas Mann, the anatomist and surgeon-extraordinaire Guillaume Dupuytren (famed for his treatment of Napoleon's hemhorroids), the elusive but ever-present Starman, as well as the man himself Albrecht Dürer.
Dürer's art is remarkable and Hoare's descriptions, often of the quirks of each painting as opposed to the techniques employed by the artist to create it or it's overall theme, do them great justice. There are sections of the book, particularly the last few chapters, which may be described as fawning. This would usually irk me if I was reading a more orthodox art history book, but as this is anything but orthodox, it fit. Hoare's passion for and adulation of the book's titular protagonist is inspiring and relatable to those of us who have stopped dead in our tracks turning a corner in a museum and being ambushed by a Modigliani.
Amongst all the paintings and illustrations listed in the book, of which I feel his Self-Portrait at Twenty-Eight is the most sublime, the image which stuck with me the most is one which, as Hoare explains, Durer drew to explain to his doctor the precise source of his discomfort when struggling with a disease of the pancreas:
This is the yellow spot and when I press my finger on it, it hurts, reads the caption. So elaborate a self-portrait serving such a mundane function - this is the esteem in which Dürer hold's himself and which he compels us to hold him in.
While the book was frustrating at times for the reasons I mentioned previously, I am glad I read it and I intend to re-read it in the future, when I am less concerned about context and more able to allow myself to drift on Hoare's passages.
March 18, 2022
“In 1976, a crater on Mercury was named after Durer; they named another Melville the same year. I’m eighteen, watching the starman in a darkened hall, caged in black and white.”
In 1976, three weeks shy of my eighteenth birthday, I too, watched the starman in a darkened hall, caged in black and white. It was pure ecstasy.
I have a postcard reproduction of Couple on Horseback (Junges Paar zu Pferde) matted and framed by my father at least 35 years ago, if not more because I can’t remember where I purchased it. It is hanging in my bedroom.
I loved following Hoare’s personal reflections and the connections he drew between Durer and other artists. This book spoke to me in many ways and had me googling and lamenting the inability to visit museums around the world for so long. So happy to have taken this journey.
In 1976, three weeks shy of my eighteenth birthday, I too, watched the starman in a darkened hall, caged in black and white. It was pure ecstasy.
I have a postcard reproduction of Couple on Horseback (Junges Paar zu Pferde) matted and framed by my father at least 35 years ago, if not more because I can’t remember where I purchased it. It is hanging in my bedroom.
I loved following Hoare’s personal reflections and the connections he drew between Durer and other artists. This book spoke to me in many ways and had me googling and lamenting the inability to visit museums around the world for so long. So happy to have taken this journey.
June 11, 2021
Sprawling and romantic, sometimes to its benefit, sometimes to its detriment. At its strongest when discussing the relation between knowledge, depiction, and capitalism - and how art can expand but limit the imagination.
I love his explorations of art as an interface with nature. I use interface literally; the woodblock prints. Good too are his discussions of fascism. But to be honest I didn't get much from this - entertaining but vague references and repetitive through lines. Still, worth a read if Dürer and modernism are your thing.
I love his explorations of art as an interface with nature. I use interface literally; the woodblock prints. Good too are his discussions of fascism. But to be honest I didn't get much from this - entertaining but vague references and repetitive through lines. Still, worth a read if Dürer and modernism are your thing.
June 23, 2022
Un libro muy peculiar lleno de arte, detalles, naturaleza, caos, historia y literatura. Me ha gustado mucho y me ha inspirado para cierto proyecto, además de hacerme recordar cierto relato que dio título a mi primera antología. :):D
February 7, 2024
I loved parts of it and got me back into reading about artists, luv u durer (and whales lol) but went on some weird tangents that were hard to follow (Thomas Mann tangent especially)
July 22, 2022
Mucha ballena y poco Alberto.
May 27, 2021
It is hard to characterize this book, not a biography of Durer not a description of his art but a journey through art, life nature and human nature and personal memoir. Confusing sometimes as the author jumps from one idea to another and the text frequently does clearly refer to the illustrations contained in the book. So it really is more about the author and his thoughts than about Durer.
August 19, 2022
Solitamente amo questo tipo di libri che divagano, aperti, caotici come la vita. Albert e la balena è incategorizzabile, è un saggio che spazia dalla vita di Dürer alle balene, dalla poesia di Marianne Moore alla vita di Thomas Mann e famiglia, regalandoci pagine di vagheggiamenti dell’autore sugli argomenti più disparati. C’erano tutte le premesse per amarlo, eppure non è stato così; mi sono trovata parecchio spiazzata per la maggior parte del tempo.
Ma partiamo con ordine, il pretesto che porta alla nascita di questo volume è l’innamoramento folle che colpisce Hoare per l’arte di Dürer. Decide così di imbarcarsi in un vero e proprio pellegrinaggio per vedere le opere chiave di Dürer e i luoghi in cui l'artista è nato, cresciuto e in cui si è spostato. Estasiato dalla bellezza delle opere di Dürer, Hoare riflette e si meraviglia sulle reazioni viscerali di numerosi altri artisti alle opere del pittore e incisore tedesco. Queste riflessioni sono collegate spesso a racconti o aneddoti riguardanti le balene, animale totem di Hoare, e animale che avrebbe sicuramente affascinato anche Dürer, se nel 1520 fosse riuscito a raggiungere l’animale spiaggiato a Walcheren in Zelanda olandese.
Lo confesso, mi sono ritrovata spesso persa in questo mare di pensieri disparati: la quantità di riferimenti è impressionante e spesso Hoare richiede un lettore abbastanza esperto di letteratura, arte e storia tedesca per cogliere appieno il senso delle sue contemplazioni. Mi piace spesso perdermi nelle parole di un autore, ma se anche i rimandi che utilizza mi sono oscuri (come la poesia di Marianne Moore), mi trovo troppo disorientata, perdo di concentrazione. Così è stato, spesso mi sono trovata a rileggere pagine più volte, perché avevo perso il filo del discorso. Non c’è stata quella piacevolezza di lettura che mi aspettavo, quel perdermi tra le pagine del libro facendomi guidare dall’autore e dai suoli riferimenti; mi è sembrato più che altro di leggere una serie di nozioni, quasi scolastiche, senza troppo trasporto. Forse non era il momento adatto a un libro di questo tipo o forse mi sono mancate proprio le conoscenze necessarie per apprezzarlo nella sua interezza…
Ma partiamo con ordine, il pretesto che porta alla nascita di questo volume è l’innamoramento folle che colpisce Hoare per l’arte di Dürer. Decide così di imbarcarsi in un vero e proprio pellegrinaggio per vedere le opere chiave di Dürer e i luoghi in cui l'artista è nato, cresciuto e in cui si è spostato. Estasiato dalla bellezza delle opere di Dürer, Hoare riflette e si meraviglia sulle reazioni viscerali di numerosi altri artisti alle opere del pittore e incisore tedesco. Queste riflessioni sono collegate spesso a racconti o aneddoti riguardanti le balene, animale totem di Hoare, e animale che avrebbe sicuramente affascinato anche Dürer, se nel 1520 fosse riuscito a raggiungere l’animale spiaggiato a Walcheren in Zelanda olandese.
Lo confesso, mi sono ritrovata spesso persa in questo mare di pensieri disparati: la quantità di riferimenti è impressionante e spesso Hoare richiede un lettore abbastanza esperto di letteratura, arte e storia tedesca per cogliere appieno il senso delle sue contemplazioni. Mi piace spesso perdermi nelle parole di un autore, ma se anche i rimandi che utilizza mi sono oscuri (come la poesia di Marianne Moore), mi trovo troppo disorientata, perdo di concentrazione. Così è stato, spesso mi sono trovata a rileggere pagine più volte, perché avevo perso il filo del discorso. Non c’è stata quella piacevolezza di lettura che mi aspettavo, quel perdermi tra le pagine del libro facendomi guidare dall’autore e dai suoli riferimenti; mi è sembrato più che altro di leggere una serie di nozioni, quasi scolastiche, senza troppo trasporto. Forse non era il momento adatto a un libro di questo tipo o forse mi sono mancate proprio le conoscenze necessarie per apprezzarlo nella sua interezza…
January 12, 2022
There is some achingly beautiful writing here. I will read anything about Durer and the sections about Durer's life and work are wonderful. Other parts seem to be very personal digressions. On several occasions the narrative stops so that the author can take a swim in a harbor, river, pond, or fountain. David Bowie is referenced obliquely several times as the starmen. I have no clue what the starmen has to do with Durer.
There are wonderful descriptions of dogs. O.K., Durer did love dogs. Musings on the poet Marianne Moore's bed partners and her move from Greenwich Village to Brooklyn struck me as odd. After several pages we learn Moore wrote poetry about Durer and whales. Durer's face is described as a face on a train, though there were no trains in Durer's time. My loss, but I have never seen anyone who looked remotely like Durer on a train.
Hoare declines to use quotation marks. It is hard to tell if he is paraphrasing or musing on what he imagines an individual might have said. I know Durer loved typography, but the typography here is peculiar. The text changes fonts when referring to the city of LA. "LA" is several points smaller than the words in the sentence leading up to it.
The hardcover edition has many welcome illustrations throughout. The illustrations help to explain details in the text. The black and white printing is fuzzy, even as Hoare rightly praises the extraordinary precision of Durer's prints. The 8 pages of color plates at the end of the book are nicely printed. They are referenced in the text by plate numbers, yet are printed without captions or numbers.
To give an idea of Philip Hoare's prose - here he is writing about his aged and beloved pet dog, Tangle: "That summer he struggled to keep up with the young dog inside of him, the dog he knew, the dog beneath my skin. He led us through the woods hung with moss to a shallow pool and gently lowered his body. We heard him sigh."
It is true pleasure to read such evocative prose. I just wish more of the prose had evoked Albrecht Durer.
There are wonderful descriptions of dogs. O.K., Durer did love dogs. Musings on the poet Marianne Moore's bed partners and her move from Greenwich Village to Brooklyn struck me as odd. After several pages we learn Moore wrote poetry about Durer and whales. Durer's face is described as a face on a train, though there were no trains in Durer's time. My loss, but I have never seen anyone who looked remotely like Durer on a train.
Hoare declines to use quotation marks. It is hard to tell if he is paraphrasing or musing on what he imagines an individual might have said. I know Durer loved typography, but the typography here is peculiar. The text changes fonts when referring to the city of LA. "LA" is several points smaller than the words in the sentence leading up to it.
The hardcover edition has many welcome illustrations throughout. The illustrations help to explain details in the text. The black and white printing is fuzzy, even as Hoare rightly praises the extraordinary precision of Durer's prints. The 8 pages of color plates at the end of the book are nicely printed. They are referenced in the text by plate numbers, yet are printed without captions or numbers.
To give an idea of Philip Hoare's prose - here he is writing about his aged and beloved pet dog, Tangle: "That summer he struggled to keep up with the young dog inside of him, the dog he knew, the dog beneath my skin. He led us through the woods hung with moss to a shallow pool and gently lowered his body. We heard him sigh."
It is true pleasure to read such evocative prose. I just wish more of the prose had evoked Albrecht Durer.
August 10, 2021
This was recommended to me. The Albert of the title is Durer, and given my love of whales and Philip Hoare's previous book, Leviathan, it sounded interesting. But it isn't! I think it's written in modernist style. It chops back and forth and comes in to biographical stories part way through, and is more like a series of essays than a single work. Worst of all, though, the illustration 'plates' referred to in the text seem to bear no reference to the scattered black and white images throughout (black and white, for a story about art???), and although there are a few art paper pages at the back, the images on those aren't numbered. What were 4th Estate thinking? It's a terrible edition, right down to unattractive cover with a choice of typefaces that no designer, I'm certain, would ever choose. So, I had to lob this one over the back of the sofa.
August 26, 2022
Very disappointed with this book. Let me premise the review with the fact I am an art historian, and my initial understanding of the book was that it was a "meditative" investigation of Albrecht Durer and the early history of zoological studies. How wrong I was! It seemed more to be a rambling mish-mash of thoughts about Thomas Mann and his unorthodox family life, the history of whaling in the nineteenth and twentieth century and stream-of-conscious thoughts about visiting museums and ponds. Honestly, I don't even know. It was a struggle to read most of the time, and there was nary a footnote or informative anecdote about Albrecht Durer and his fascinating life to be found.
April 16, 2021
Disappointing. I found it rambling and hard to follow.
August 9, 2021
"This book is badly in need of notes," thought I as I struggled in the current of the elusive style Hoare has adopted for much of this book. "It almost might have been a novel," is what it feels like at times, particularly when "the starman" haunts the scene, but there is no escaping the whirlpool of allusion that follows deep dives into literature and whirls down, down, down through visits to museums to archives to historic houses. I nearly drowned. The thing that finally saved me was on the very last page: "SOURCES: Please go to [blahblahblah] for source notes and image details." This publisher was so cheap they couldn't print the damn source notes in the actual book and thereby save the reader a lot of agony. How many have drowned? We will never know.
That knowledge saved me in the sense that I'd be willing to bet author Hoare is as pissed off about the situation as I am. He did the work. He compiled 40+ pages of notes, and the publisher grinds them into pellets to feed the goldfish. "Where's the channel in this here stream of consciousness?" is what I wondered a few chapters in. With the notes as a map, I would not have wondered. I did make it through; I'm glad I made the trip; but damn, I'm pretty sure the author didn't intend navigation only by the stars.
(Oh and the notes verified my guess as to the identity of "the starman." But I'm in the right demographic to have "gotten" the reference and feel sorry for those who aren't.)
Goodreads friends: go here and download the notes before you dip your oar into this book.
That knowledge saved me in the sense that I'd be willing to bet author Hoare is as pissed off about the situation as I am. He did the work. He compiled 40+ pages of notes, and the publisher grinds them into pellets to feed the goldfish. "Where's the channel in this here stream of consciousness?" is what I wondered a few chapters in. With the notes as a map, I would not have wondered. I did make it through; I'm glad I made the trip; but damn, I'm pretty sure the author didn't intend navigation only by the stars.
(Oh and the notes verified my guess as to the identity of "the starman." But I'm in the right demographic to have "gotten" the reference and feel sorry for those who aren't.)
Goodreads friends: go here and download the notes before you dip your oar into this book.
September 27, 2021
Albert and The Whale is Philip Hoare’s personal, meditative and meandering journey in search of Albrecht Dürer and his art. It is a wonderful read that takes in history, the natural world, literature and poetry, accompanied by beautifully reproduced art. I wanted to read it ahead of the upcoming National Gallery exhibition Dürer’s Journeys: Travels of a Renaissance Man and am now counting days until it opens.
Back when I was growing up, my grandmother had a set of tiny books about the Old Masters that I often looked at and of course, Dürer was the artist I was most intrigued by because of the Christ-like Self-Portrait at Twenty-Eight. Who was this beautiful, enigmatic creature? It is easy to see why people have admired him to the point of obsession over centuries.
In his search of Dürer, Hoare looks at Thomas Mann, Sebald, Marianne Moore, Melville and Moby Dick, David Bowie and many others, building sometimes surprising, often delightful connections across borders and centuries. His starting point is a journey Dürer made while in today’s Netherlands to see a beached whale, disappeared by the time Dürer arrived. While he never got to sketch the whale, he did leave fabulous drawings of the natural world. This fascination with the natural world is shared by the author who laments its destruction through colonialism, wars and human greed.
I simply loved this book, it’s one of the best I’ve read all year and, having read an advance copy on my phone, will be buying the hardback. My thanks to Fourth Estate, William Collins and Netgalley for the opportunity to read it.
Back when I was growing up, my grandmother had a set of tiny books about the Old Masters that I often looked at and of course, Dürer was the artist I was most intrigued by because of the Christ-like Self-Portrait at Twenty-Eight. Who was this beautiful, enigmatic creature? It is easy to see why people have admired him to the point of obsession over centuries.
In his search of Dürer, Hoare looks at Thomas Mann, Sebald, Marianne Moore, Melville and Moby Dick, David Bowie and many others, building sometimes surprising, often delightful connections across borders and centuries. His starting point is a journey Dürer made while in today’s Netherlands to see a beached whale, disappeared by the time Dürer arrived. While he never got to sketch the whale, he did leave fabulous drawings of the natural world. This fascination with the natural world is shared by the author who laments its destruction through colonialism, wars and human greed.
I simply loved this book, it’s one of the best I’ve read all year and, having read an advance copy on my phone, will be buying the hardback. My thanks to Fourth Estate, William Collins and Netgalley for the opportunity to read it.
July 20, 2021
A wondrous unusual reading experience carrying both to within the great art and life of Durer, seeing all that's in the paintings and woodcuts and their importance and back out in expansive detailed story to the hundreds of threads and immersions other artists, thinkers and their lives found in taking up his art including Erwin Panofsky, Thomas Mann, Marianne Moore and WG Sebald (clearly an influence on the style and who makes a personal appearance in the author's own story) and how they are all linked together. One detail, one piece of natural history, leads unerringly but unexpectedly to the next without much apology for time or sequence - the past feels present - but a logic of its own. The book is beautifully designed - credited in the back to Richard Marston. That includes a hidden mention at the end that the vast number of sources and attributions never impinge on the reading but can be found at a provided web address. It's not easy to describe the flow of ideas and facts called up here in service of the narrative - for example like the small aside that Susan Sontag on her own initiative at the age of 14 sought out Thomas Mann to speak to him. Of another author's pictures he mentions, Philip Hoare says, they make me glad to be part of this world of things. And that is true on each page. The title of the book " ...and how art imagines our world" is apt.
September 15, 2022
I snatched this off the library shelf thinking I was getting a biography of Albrecht Durer...boy was I wrong, and wow is this book a wild ride! I am an artist, and sometimes reading is my method of procrastinating when I should be painting. I'm an abstract artist, but sometimes I throw in recognizable images amidst the swoops of color and squiggly lines, and I think this author does much the same thing with this book. A few times I flipped back to the front of the book to remind myself that yes, it is indeed about Durer, but looked at the second line of the title, "Albrecht Durer and How Art Imagines Our World". That line made much more sense after reading the entirety of the book. Sometimes a biography, but along with exploring Durer's world, Hoare also examines other authors who were inspired by Durer's work. I almost got lost around Panofsky, but then came back to it with Thomas Mann and Marianne Moore. I like that this rambled a bit, and that Hoare referenced authors and scientists and other artists, (me taking copious notes) because I enjoy that kind of drawing on all aspects of life to create a story. At times this felt more fiction and imaginative story telling, and at times I think that was a bit of a stretch, but I'm glad this book stretched me. This was a challenging read, but I enjoyed it.
January 28, 2024
Two interests intersected for me with this book. I’m a fan of Nicholas Hoare and his writings about whales and the sea, and was just re-introduced to Durer in an art class I’m taking.
So, I was delighted to discover that Hoare wrote Albert and the Whale, which is not only a recounting of the journey Durer made in vain, attempting to see a beached whale, but also about the influence Durer had on German novelist Thomas Mann and the New York City-based poet Marianne Moore (and her mother), as well as W.H. Auden and others, like Durer biographer Erwin Panofsky and his son Wolfgang, who helped build the first atomic bomb.
And, because the book is written by Hoare, it is also replete with whales, the sea, and himself. The book can feel a bit confusing if you don’t know what you’re in for (I read a review after I started the book, which helped frame it for me), as Hoare moves from time frame to time frame.
I could have spent less time (much less time) with Mann, but mostly the book works incredibly well and I walked away feeling like the connections between Durer and others in the book were, in a way, timeless.
The book concludes on a deeply personal note that links the author back to his subject, Durer, in a way that resonates and feels both personal and universal. A rich and rewarding book that I greatly appreciated (and would benefit from re-reading).
So, I was delighted to discover that Hoare wrote Albert and the Whale, which is not only a recounting of the journey Durer made in vain, attempting to see a beached whale, but also about the influence Durer had on German novelist Thomas Mann and the New York City-based poet Marianne Moore (and her mother), as well as W.H. Auden and others, like Durer biographer Erwin Panofsky and his son Wolfgang, who helped build the first atomic bomb.
And, because the book is written by Hoare, it is also replete with whales, the sea, and himself. The book can feel a bit confusing if you don’t know what you’re in for (I read a review after I started the book, which helped frame it for me), as Hoare moves from time frame to time frame.
I could have spent less time (much less time) with Mann, but mostly the book works incredibly well and I walked away feeling like the connections between Durer and others in the book were, in a way, timeless.
The book concludes on a deeply personal note that links the author back to his subject, Durer, in a way that resonates and feels both personal and universal. A rich and rewarding book that I greatly appreciated (and would benefit from re-reading).
July 23, 2021
I read this book a couple months after viewing a touring exhibit of Dürer's woodcuts at a local art museum.
As I read it, I tried to imagine what it would be like to tour such an exhibit with Hoare.
His enthusiasm would be a little off-putting. His isn't a merely intellectual attraction to the artist and the whale that enticed Dürer on a road trip down the Flemish coast. Roare is passionate about whales. He sees them everywhere--not just in Dürer's art.
His intellect would be enthralling. Dürer was an incredibly detailed artist--despite the medium of woodcuts, his works are populated with characters and flourishes. But Hoare is so invested in the art, that he can pull details out of details. Insights out of hidden flourishes. It would take all day to go through the exhibit at this rate, but the learning would be intense.
Roare's free associating would be hit or miss. He draws on so many sources: science, poetry, literature. The erudition is off the charts.
I'd recommend this book for those who already have explored an interest in Dürer--not enough in the English-speaking world, I'm afraid, more focused on French, English, and even Dutch art than Germany. Without at least some background, this would be a confusing read.
As I read it, I tried to imagine what it would be like to tour such an exhibit with Hoare.
His enthusiasm would be a little off-putting. His isn't a merely intellectual attraction to the artist and the whale that enticed Dürer on a road trip down the Flemish coast. Roare is passionate about whales. He sees them everywhere--not just in Dürer's art.
His intellect would be enthralling. Dürer was an incredibly detailed artist--despite the medium of woodcuts, his works are populated with characters and flourishes. But Hoare is so invested in the art, that he can pull details out of details. Insights out of hidden flourishes. It would take all day to go through the exhibit at this rate, but the learning would be intense.
Roare's free associating would be hit or miss. He draws on so many sources: science, poetry, literature. The erudition is off the charts.
I'd recommend this book for those who already have explored an interest in Dürer--not enough in the English-speaking world, I'm afraid, more focused on French, English, and even Dutch art than Germany. Without at least some background, this would be a confusing read.
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