Customer Reviews

CHIMERA

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4 star:		(4)
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2 star:		(1)
1 star:		(2)

 

 

Now, I'm not nearly as erudite as John Barth is (or thinks he is) and thus missed about a million references to our Greek literary forebears in his novel here and I like to think that I know Greek mythology fairly well. However, I really enjoyed this book and if one isn't bothered by the simple fact that unless one teaches mythology at the local college, one probably will not "get" pieces of this book. Oh well. Basically the book is some sort of post-modern look at myths and how they conform to reality, told through three interconnected novellas. The first has to do with the lady from Arabian Nights, retelling the story from the point of view of her younger sister. The second has to do with Perseus, who is remembering his life after he slew the hideous Medusa and how it seemed to go downhill and that all the best moments of his life passed him by. The last part has to do with the guy who flew the Pegaseus who feels that he's never really done anything important with his life and he's just wondering what it all means. And that's basically the theme for all three of the stories, Barth seems to be trying to strip away the myth and act like these were people and give human faces and emotions to these heroes. And it's funny. Really funny. Maybe the shorter form works better or maybe he's actually being funny in a subject that I actually know something about but this was funnier than Giles Goat Boy, which has its merits, but this made me laugh outloud several times and if you're paying attention, it'll make you laugh too. Sometimes it gets a bit too pretentious for its own good, Barth writes himself in at several moments (I won't say when) and I'm not sure what that's supposed to be implying. But his writing is as good as it ever was and if any of his books deserved the National Book Award, this one is it. And while the three novels each have their own good points and great moments, if the end of the third novella doesn't take some part of your breath away, well . . . you're not me at any rate. Excellent stuff, maybe more accessible because of the length (though everyone says that about the short novels by authors like this) but packed with enough "thinking stuff" to make your head hurt, this shows Barth as a master of the form.

Though somewhat uneven throughout, John Barth's Chimera is an enjoyable and complex read, particularly for those with an interest in Ancient Mythology and Post Modern fiction. This "novel," written sometime after Giles Goat-Boy and Lost in the Funhouse, is comprised of three very loosely connected novellas, all taking post-modern slants on classic mythological stories.

"Dunyaziad" is a brief recounting of the 1001 Arabian Nights and the plight that Princess Scheherazade and her sister faced after recounting those 1001 stories to their tyrannical husbands. Don't worry if you've never read the real 1001 Nights: Barth provides enough context that you'll quickly figure out what's going on. You'll probably want to go out and read the original tales after you're done, because he does a great job of making these tales seem mysterious and intriguing.

"Perseiad" is tale of Perseus and his mid-life crisis after slaying Medusa and separating from his wife. This is definitely the best tale of the three and is very similar to Barth's earlier tales "Menelaiad" and "Anonymiad" from Lost in the Funhouse. The digressions are minimal, the plot perfectly formed (spiralic if you will), and the sense of impotency, confusion, and frustration very tangible.

"Bellerophoniad" is a self-conscious imitation of "Persiad" and probably the most difficult story of the three. It definitely has its good parts, but some of the post-modern digressions (particularly the lengthy account of characters originally found in Giles Goat-Boy, and notes from a lecture delivered on Barth's fiction itself) can really be tedious.

Once again, don't be frightened off by the copious references to mythological characters and events, even if you aren't previously familiar with them. Barth goes out of his way to bring you up to speed, even citing a passage from Robert Graves' The Greek Myths to give you a very literal account of Bellerophon's myth. All of Barth's trademark wit and complexity are here, and there is plenty of sex, violence, and humor (sometimes all three at once) to keep you entertained. If you are a new reader to Barth, you are much better off reading The Sot-Weed Factor or Lost in the Funhouse, but to those who already consider themselves devoted fans, this is a must-read.

This is one of the finest works by a fine author. Several scenes and lines from it have entered my personal mythos.

Each of the three novellas is a gem in its own way, and the trio work beautifully together. In each, the basic idea is to show a legendary figure as a real human being. We see Perseus after his glory days have passed, for example, and also meet Bellerophon who secretly feels that he has been a faker all along. But it's much more than yet another retelling of old legends.

It will make you think. It will probably also make you laugh in places and move you in others.

The wrapup is unexpected. Some will love it; some will hate it.

Do yourself a favor and read this. It's well worth the price of the paperback.

Authors do not write novels with the purpose of having them labelled. Critics label novels and authors because they like to put things and people in their places.

John Barth writes novels, long or short, because he likes to. he writes them in specific styles and ways because that is what he enjoys and that is how he thinks, and that is how he writes.

The three short novels in Chimera are different in subject matter from Barth's other novels. The style is sometimes easy, sometimes cryptic and sometimes full of intellectual vanity. But that is what makes Barth.

One reads this type of work if one likes this type of work. And if the reader gets even more than he hoped to get out of reading the book, then the reader recommends it to others and sometimes writes a review.

If you like Barth, or this type of literary writing, but do not know much Greek mythology, you must read this book for fun and to expand your cultural horizons.

If you like Greek mythology, you should read this book for the perspective, the depth and the whimsy. And, who knows, you may start looking at more recent history in a different way.

If you like Gore Vidal's "histories", you may well like this book.

Finally, if you enjoyed Craig Shaw Gardner's books, maybe you will enjoy Chimera, but for different reasons.

These are not writer comparisons but reader idiosyncrasies.

I read this book for a High School project and enjoyed most of it. Considering that I have been a fan of ancient mythology for several years I can really appreciate the different perspectives of this book and how Barth takes into account the different circumstances of each myth.

It was fun and intriguing most of the time, but I found it also very confusing at parts. Barth had a tendency to go off on a tangent at certain parts of the novel and I was found trying to decipher several passages. Though I enjoyed his unique view of how things happened and I enjoyed how he made the myths playout much like a modern day screenplay I was also lost in the verbose detours that he took in the midst of these ebjoyable portions.

So like I said, and enjoyable book, but not for everyone. Especially if you get lost easily in twisted

I bought this book for twenty five cents at a yard sale, and it has put me off going to bookstores ever again. It was so much better, and more fun to read, than the last three books I paid good money for (and which had received hundreds of five star reviews on amazon!) that it just doesn't make sense to go back.

It's a take off on mythology, and the 1001 Nights. It's three long stories, sort of distantly connected - the connections are extremely confusing, by the way - by this Author who is being told stories by a computer (or vice versa.) Each story is like a series of "as told to" stories, as in A recounting a story that B told him who heard it from C, and everybody is being quoted, sometimes there's five or six quotes within quotes, but don't let that put you off. The stories are really funny, and actually pretty sexy. The overall metaphor is Sheherazade (sp?) from 1001 Nights, who is having sex with this king every night and telling him a story to keep from being beheaded. So sex and story telling - it's all about that. Making it through the night and having a good time while you're at it.

I'll admit I got so confused by the end of the third story that I sort of baled. But even though I didn't get through the last 20 pages or so, it's still one of the most fun books I've read this summer.

Actually, it just occurred to me that I read another John Barth novel, The End of the Road, a few years back, and that was even better (though less confusing.)

I can't be of any help to those who want to know about the second and third stories in this collection. I could never manage to get into them. The first story, "The Dunyazadiad", however, is probably my very favorite short story. Magical inventiveness, humor, structure, wordplay, irony and charm just come together and make for a delightful read.

Barth's award-winner that involves the re-tellings of three great myths, from the Arabian nights to Perseus in his later days and another hero not usually one of much note,this book shows Barth at the top of his form. In it, we see a sincere love for the traditions of story telling, mixed in with the modern theories of Barth and expression. Kudos to any book that throws in its own author as one of its primary characters

I suppose this is a good book. It is a collection of three stories: 'Dunyazadiad'; 'Perseid'; Bellerophoniad'. It gets quite weird in the last story. The other stories are strange too, but more straight forward.
'Dunyazadiad' tells Scheherazade and her one thousand and one (1,001) nights telling stories to the king. Her sister, Dunyazadiad, gets to watch the sex and storytelling. Eventually she gets taken to the kingdom of the first king's brother for his enjoyment. The story develops and ends well enough: everyone lives happily ever after. You get an explanation of where Amazons came from, though it is not true, it is part of this story.
The next story tells of Perseus and how he came to be a part of the night sky, famous for a meteor shower every August. It gets to be a bit convoluted and you have to start wondering who is telling the story or recording it or what is happening. I am sure the author knew what he was doing and thought he did it well, but I got lost some, though not as badly as I did in the last story.
Perseus wakes up in some sort of temple with amnesia, so a temple helper teaches him about where he has been and where he is to go. He ends up immortal in the stars at night.
Bellerophon is more of the same and even more confusing. The myths are interpreted and developed into some semblance of reality as it may have been. But Mr. Barth starts to shift years, by fiat, from prehistoric times to the present and back, and developing some scenarios that are strange and different, but understandable, and nothing seems to be coming to a conclusion.

John Barth is considered the high priest of post-modern literature, and he engages in all the tricks of the trade of this variety of literature in Chimera. The novel is deeply aware of itself as a text, with authorial intrusions, reminders of page number and previous references in the book, a hyper-awareness of the limits of the novel, of its marginality, of the sense "that it has all been done before" so what is left is only a sense of play with words stripped of any meaningful representation with the world. Language is an inadequate vessel to express meaning. Words are essentially divorced from real world references. Barth gives us little rotten plums like this "I can do it. Assuredly I can do it. That I can do it, I cannot doubt. That I cannot do it; that I can begin to imagine that I cannot do it; that I can begin to wonder whether perhaps after all I can do it; that I can begin to begin to firmly believe that I cannot do it; I cannot begin to image, I cannot begin to wonder, I cannot begin to begin. Beyond question. I can do it. Can I do it? I cannot do it." And on and on and on. This novel, written in 1970, represents, I hope, a type of novelistic style which is dead and buried. If there is no meaning to be found in novel writing, if writing itself is a kind of clever game, without deep significance, than why WRITE novels. And more importantly for us, why READ such novels? After Barth, the novel should have died. But it is rosy and pink and very much alive.