Customer Reviews

The Infinities

5 star:		(10)
4 star:		(8)
3 star:		(6)
2 star:		(1)
1 star:		(3)

 

 

Ostensibly, this is book about a dying man, whose family assembles around him and waits for him to draw his final breath - a conventional enough device, second only to the old standbys of a family assembling for the holidays, a marriage or a funeral. Ostensibly. In actuality, that's just a jump-off point for what I can only describe as a romp through nearly every theme touched on by classic literature, from existential ruminations on the meaning of life to the bawdy realities of what that life actually involves for the people that live it.

On the surface, it's the story of the dying Adam Godley (take heed of the name...), his wife, Ursula, son Adam and daughter Petra (think of the meaning of her name - stone); and Adam junior's wife, Helen (whose name also will prove meaningful.) But it's also narrated by the gods of Olympus, who, as is their wont, have decided to alleviate their boredom or pursue their lusts by descending to involve themselves in the concerns of the Godley family. The narrator is Hermes - or is it? As his voice seems to blur and meld with that of the dying Adam in the final pages. Zeus covets Helen and commands Hermes to hold back the dawn so that he can have his way with her. And then Pan, in the form of Benny Grace, shows up on the doorstep...

There's no way to summarize what happens in this novel, and indeed what happens, event-wise, seems less important for Banville than finding a way to make us think about the world we inhabit. It's a world where the immortals are as present as the `infinities' of the title, which the dying Adam, a mathematician, discovered. Why would the gods come back? Well, Hermes points out in a matter-of-fact manner, they never left. "We merely made it seem that we had withdrawn, for a decent interval, as if to say we know when we are not wanted," he explains. "At the same time, we cannot resist revealing ourselves to you once in a while, out of our incurable boredom, our love of mischief, or that lingering nostalgia we harbour for this rough world of our making."

Adam and the family dog appear to be the only members of the household to suspect the presence of the immortals amongst them. Adam recognizes it intellectually - after all, if there are infinities, shouldn't there be immortal beings that inhabit them? - while the dog recognizes it on a more visceral level, along with the innate human fear of death. Meanwhile, the others will have their lives reshaped by the gods in ways they may not understand, or attribute to chance.

This is a fascinating book, but one that - despite the constant references to every possible bodily function and fluid imaginable - is all about ideas, likely to appeal to those who can pick up on all of Banville's allusions to classic drama or alternative history. as I was reading, there were often moments where I felt he was present at my shoulder, whispering "get it?" and giving me a sly wink or a nudge in the manner of the Olympians in his novel. I don't usually have a taste for surreal elements creeping into a book, or self-conscious wit, but ultimately Banville won me over with his combination of luscious writing and comic insights into human frailty.

Highly recommended to anyone with a taste for literary fiction, but not for anyone who finds themselves disliking novels that are more about people thinking than doing stuff. (If you haven't enjoyed anything else by Banville, the odds are high that you won't like this one.) I've rated it 4.5 stars, rounded up to 5.

Somewhere, someone will read this book and comprehend the various implications pulling and pushing between the stories of the mortals and the immortals, between the conventional narrative and the insertion of the author as the sort of god that cannot fully grasp his own creation. On my own somewhat reduced level of comprehension I can only offer that Banville has again managed to create a text that without warning illuminates some of the more profound details of existence, some of the most disjunctive associations, all within a playful fluidity of seemingly casual observation. These periodic shocks and flares of insight -- gleefully departing from the conventions of story-telling -- strike me as what the book is actually about, sorting through the tangle that shapes constructs of personal identity, belief, experience and knowledge to gain some momentarily objective glimpses of the truer contours of the human condition. Banville has a distinct ability to transcribe a sense of time and place to the page and with "The Infinities" he gives articulate voice to those more elusive impressions of being. Scattered, infrequent, unexpected and always profound shifts in perception draw us closer to an at least momentary comprehension of our selves and the world of which we are a sometimes conscious part. One to read, let rest for a year or so, and then read again.

As enchanted as I was by Banville's beautiful prose, this farcical meditation on what it means to be silly foolish human things, babes really, I can't deny I was ready for this novel to end. To say by closing page I was well-worn would be fitting. Time to move on, as though from an exotic restaurant, from a dinner perhaps appreciated more than enjoyed.

Other reviewers have noted the distinct lack of story here, and I can understand. While the novel has a feel of timelessness, in fact could be said to exist outside time, and is filled with turns of phrase meant more for the savor than blithe consumption, what chronology of events there is lasts no more than 24 hours or so and will leave some feeling a bit cheated out of a compelling event, let alone plot.

Even so, parts of this novel are quite humorous, which helps to mitigate tedium, but many parts also seem to endlessly bloviate at the reader's expense -- the conceit of the novel at times, lain threadbare -- and only rarely is a conversation between characters unbroken by narrative or descriptive or ruminative interjection. That can be frustrating.

Still, I enjoyed the novel. While the writing style is quite different in structure and tone, I found myself thinking of the highly stylized works of Jeannette Winterson, of whom I'm a fan. The Infinities is recommended with reservation, for those fans of stylized prose, eclectic taste, or a special affinity for Greek mythology.

John Banville, in his first "literary" novel since his Booker Prize-winning novel The Sea, presents a most unusual novel which takes place in Arden, a large family home somewhere in Ireland or England, as the family gathers to pay homage to the dying patriarch, Adam Godley. Godley, who has had a stroke and is thought to be unconscious, is a mathematician renowned for having posited an "exquisite concept, time's primal particle, the golden egg of Brahma from the broken yolk of which flowed all creation...the infinities." Gathering round him are his much younger wife Ursula, who has a drinking problem; his son Adam and his beautiful actress wife Helen, who bears more than a little resemblance to Helen of Troy; and his strange daughter Petra in whom there is "something missing," a young woman who is working on an "encyclopedia of morbidity." Several servants and and guests are in attendance, and an assortment of Greek gods, invisible to all, are also very much present--disguising themselves as people and sneaking in and out of their personalities-and even beds.

Hermes, the son of Zeus, is the primary narrator, commenting on what is happening in the house and among the characters, while, at the same time, keeping an eye on his father, the randy Zeus. As Hermes explains, having himself been attracted to one of the women present, "You must understand, a god is not a gentleman and likes nothing better than to trifle with a lady's affections, but," he believes, "there are rules that apply even to a divinity, and it was incumbent on me to proceed with caution and deference, if the niceties of the game were to be preserved."

Through the additional points of view of Benny Grace, and, surprisingly, Adam Godley himself, the lives of the characters take shape. Adam Godley's past, his youth, his first marriage, his wife's suicide, and his marriage to Ursula are revisited, while the others all deal with complications in their love lives, made more complicated by the tinkering of the gods. When various characters disappear from the house for assignations in various bowers, wooded and otherwise, the novel begins to resemble A Midsummer Night's dream, and the huge thunderstorm which breaks before they can all return, brings the action to its climax.

The novel often resembles a farce, but it lacks the spontaneity that makes that genre so much fun. Instead, it feels as if every aspect of the novel has been composed and organized to the nth degree. At times it also feels like a novel of ideas, but those ideas are often murky. Clearly, Banville is commenting on life, and love, and death, all ideas which interest Hermes, since the gods share none of these experiences, yet the novel does not seem to jell. The characters' names suggest a modern allegory, but the disguises and the mischief of the gods complicate the characters' lives, and the reader cannot always be sure which characters are real and which are the incarnations of various gods. While the novel is sometimes fun to read, it seems stuck halfway between reality and infinity-not quite an "entertainment," a la Graham Greene with his mystery novels, but not quite the serious novel that his Booker Prize-winning novel The Sea represents. Not a comedy despite its absurdity, and a bit amorphous for serious literary fiction, this Banville novel is a puzzle in terms of the author's intentions but still fun to read. Mary Whipple

The Sea
Shroud
Eclipse

The inclusion of Greek Mythology and certain of the Gods in particular makes this a wonderfully ambitious novel. Banville's prose, his use of words and metaphors, is nothing short of art work. While I very much enjoyed the plot and character interplay, I found myself frequently re-reading paragraphs out of pure admiration (not for lack of clarity, as some reviews of Banville have suggested). This is definitely for readers who love beautiful writing. Some reviewers have suggested that a slow pace and density make this a difficult read...afterall, this book does take place during one day. However, I found the plot enormously entertaining and ribald. Banville's prose, however, is pure artistry of the highest level.

In a way, this is a tour de force by an Irishman who is a logophile and a story-teller. The plot could cover no more than two pages, and the other pages are words, stories, musings, and ideas about Greek gods and their doings. As a Classicist and an etymologist, I was able to catch nearly all the references and the words; one not versed in either field would encounter problems in both areas, mythology and words. For such a person, keep a dictionary handy! I can imagine that the author had great fun with this as he expresses his thoughts as himself or through the god, Hermes. The god, Thanatos, was the biggest hoot to me, with other gods presented in a way that is believable. Finally, if you love long, periodic sentences, read the one on page 4; it is a monograph by itself and shows the author at his testiest best.

The novel is set in an old mansion in the country side. Mr. Adam, the old man, compared with Zeus the primordial lover, is dying and wishes to spend his last days in the mansion instead of the hospital. His family is also present. But not only the family, some of the ancient gods - like Zeus the Father and Lover, and Hermes the Guide to the World of the Dead - are there also . The gods watch the humans and comment on what they say and do.

This blend of modern and ancient personages gives the novel its universal and timeless meaning: the battle between young and old and Love as a substitute for immortality.
During their stay at the mansion they are questioning themselves and the others. They experience their surroundings in different ways, depending on their vantage point. Past and present become intertwined.

'The Infinities' by John Banville is a rich and complex novel.

John Banville has an extraordinary gift. Evidently there are many who appreciate it and I am pleased to join the chorus of ayes. That said, instead of summarizing the cast (done in many of the other, generally excellent reviews) and noting that the timeline is compressed (one day, in which quite a lot happens, actually) even as a bit of extra time gets inserted into the day, I would like to describe my brief (too brief) conversation with Mr. Banville at a book signing. A couple of years ago, at a book signing, I met Mr. Banville and thanked him for his language and its liveliness. He said that I had made his day. I still think that my observation about his language is generally true and particularly evident in this novel. Even in describing death, Banville's language is alive with intelligence, with music, with possibility. This is a lovely, lively book that is actually more optimistic than any of his other fictions even though the presumptive topic is a man's coming death. After all, one message that comes through is that even after all these years, the gods haven't abandoned us quite yet and that is better news than the alternative of finding that we have been left here alone. Mr. Banville, may we have more please, and soon?

And not in a good way, like "Oh! This book is so amazing and beautiful that I cried when it ended." No, my sentiment was more like, "This book is never going to end! Why am I still reading? I hate to give up on books but I can't take this anymore."

And so I am writing a review of a book that I could not force myself to finish. I did skim through several passages to get the gist of the story, and I read the final chapter, so that I would know what revelations I might have missed. But any story is so obscured by explication and droning pages of "god"thought and description that I had no idea what was going on with the characters and I cared even less.

I started losing interest in the book when I sensed that the author was playing ridiculous games of "guess the identity of the narrator," and further confusing the reader (needlessly, I might add) by switching tenses and voices frequently within paragraphs. I knew he was playing with the idea of infinity and eternal beings, but it just irritated me that he had to do it in such a pretentious and obfuscating manner.

The story is narrated by Hermes as he watches a family gather around dying Old Adam, a mathematician of some renown. Hermes seems to pass in and out of the minds of the strangely listless cast of characters, commenting on both his godhood, infinity, death, and various other drastic subjects. He also enjoys mentioning past exploits of his divine family, mirrored in the lives of the mortal family that he is now observing. What irritated me most was the first of several confusing chapters in which Hermes narrates the dying Adam's thoughts, possibly the dullest thing I have ever read, including government manuals.

Yes, Banville is intelligent. I am sure he had some sort of point, and it was probably buried deeply in layers of beautiful prose and allusion. But I do not have the time or patience to sift through an incredibly dull book for what seems to me a pittance of a reward. I am, after all, a mere mortal, and with all the references to the brevity of human life in this novel, I finally decided that indeed, life is too short, especially for frustrating novels such as this.

The prose in this novel is beautiful, that's for sure. I enjoyed the first 1/4 or so, but found myself getting a little antsy as I read on. It was never clear to me whether the story takes place in our world or a 'similar' world, never sure what time period it was, and it began to bother me. I realize the author may have been going for a sense of 'timelessness', but it's difficult to relate to a novel without a familiar touchstone with which to compare.

I have a feeling that this is the kind of novel that does better upon a second read. The prose is beautiful, the setting is whimsical--but I found myself waiting for something, anything, to happen. Perhaps a second viewing with proper expectations would yield a more favorable experience.