A 1939 Paris novella of Nabokov's that, as he acknowledged, served as "the first little throb" for Lolita—being as well about a tormented pedophile who's willing to go so far as to take on the girl's mother if it means eventually securing the pubescent prey. The narrator, a bachelor jeweler, is sitting on a park bench one day when the 12-year-old girl in question comes roller-skating by. She takes away his breath, and he immediately makes a private vow to have her, but the girl is temporarily in care of someone other than her mother, who is sick (in fact, she's dying). The jeweler, "the enchanter," comes up with a diabolically complex plan of proposing marriage to the dying mother: he knows she'll be off the scene soon enough, and he can then best take guardianship of the girl. He and the sick mother do marry (a teeth-clenched consummation on his part), and then the woman, as expected, so dies. So now to the girl—a country inn, a single bed, an assault (he can't help himself, he can't postpone), a comic disaster. It isn't Lolita—it has none of that book's discordances of texture—but it is Nabokov, at every incrustedly prolix sentence. Son Dmitri Nabokov has translated as well as provided a pretentious afterword—which carps against biographer Andrew Field, and the latest louts who dare suggest that a recently published pseudonymous novel, Novel With Cocaine, is the work of his father, and which makes rather more of this elegant but stictly semi-pornographic/hack-work sketch than it deserves.
Pub Date: Oct. 15, 1986
ISBN: 0679728864
Page Count: 96
Publisher: Putnam
Review Posted Online: Oct. 1, 2011
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Sept. 15, 1986
This book sings with the terrible silence of dead civilizations in which once there was valor.
Written with quiet dignity that builds to a climax of tragic force, this book about the dissolution of an African tribe, its traditions, and values, represents a welcome departure from the familiar "Me, white brother" genre.
Written by a Nigerian African trained in missionary schools, this novel tells quietly the story of a brave man, Okonkwo, whose life has absolute validity in terms of his culture, and who exercises his prerogative as a warrior, father, and husband with unflinching single mindedness. But into the complex Nigerian village filters the teachings of strangers, teachings so alien to the tribe, that resistance is impossible. One must distinguish a force to be able to oppose it, and to most, the talk of Christian salvation is no more than the babbling of incoherent children. Still, with his guns and persistence, the white man, amoeba-like, gradually absorbs the native culture and in despair, Okonkwo, unable to withstand the corrosion of what he, alone, understands to be the life force of his people, hangs himself. In the formlessness of the dying culture, it is the missionary who takes note of the event, reminding himself to give Okonkwo's gesture a line or two in his work, The Pacification of the Primitive Tribes of the Lower Niger.
This book sings with the terrible silence of dead civilizations in which once there was valor.Pub Date: Jan. 23, 1958
ISBN: 0385474547
Page Count: 207
Publisher: McDowell, Obolensky
Review Posted Online: April 23, 2013
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Jan. 1, 1958
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
Jonathan Livingston Kitty, it’s not.
A lonely postman learns that he’s about to die—and reflects on life as he bargains with a Hawaiian-shirt–wearing devil.
The 30-year-old first-person narrator in filmmaker/novelist Kawamura’s slim novel is, by his own admission, “boring…a monotone guy,” so unimaginative that, when he learns he has a brain tumor, the bucket list he writes down is dull enough that “even the cat looked disgusted with me.” Luckily—or maybe not—a friendly devil, dubbed Aloha, pops onto the scene, and he’s willing to make a deal: an extra day of life in exchange for being allowed to remove something pleasant from the world. The first thing excised is phones, which goes well enough. (The narrator is pleasantly surprised to find that “people seemed to have no problem finding something to fill up their free time.”) But deals with the devil do have a way of getting complicated. This leads to shallow musings (“Sometimes, when you rewatch a film after not having seen it for a long time, it makes a totally different impression on you than it did the first time you saw it. Of course, the movie hasn’t changed; it’s you who’s changed") written in prose so awkward, it’s possibly satire (“Tears dripped down onto the letter like warm, salty drops of rain”). Even the postman’s beloved cat, who gains the power of speech, ends up being prim and annoying. The narrator ponders feelings about a lost love, his late mother, and his estranged father in a way that some readers might find moving at times. But for many, whatever made this book a bestseller in Japan is going to be lost in translation.
Jonathan Livingston Kitty, it’s not.Pub Date: March 12, 2019
ISBN: 978-1-250-29405-0
Page Count: 176
Publisher: Flatiron Books
Review Posted Online: Feb. 16, 2019
Kirkus Reviews Issue: March 1, 2019
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