Customer Reviews

Invitation to a Beheading

5 star:		(13)
4 star:		(6)
3 star:		(6)
2 star:		(1)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

In this account of a man sentenced to death, Nabokov reveals a talent for the surreal. The accused man has not been told the date of his death sentence. He has been left completely in the dark. He has been locked up in a very bare and sparse prison, with guards, a prison director and assistant. Yet there are no other prisoners, none in the whole facility.

The mental musings of the prisoner are the focus of the book. The incidents are often highly surreal and not possible. They sometimes seem like one is reading a Magritte. Yet they are illustrative and fascinating. In one scene his family comes to visit him in prison, complete with furniture. In another he sees the prison director who is also the assistant director as miniature people. Wherever his musings take us, they are truly of great interest.

In the final scenes the surreal nature of the musing continues. The scene of the execution is somehow `disturbed.' Things are not as they should be. And as a result, he just disappears, along with everything else.

While the nature of the writing is extremely Kafkaesque, Nabokov had not read any Kafka when he wrote this story. In addition, neither Kafka, nor any of the major existentialists combine their philosophy with surrealism in the same way or to the same degree as does Nabokov in this book.

The book is recommended to all lovers of Nabokov and to those looking for a true contemporary classic fiction novel.

"Invitation to a Beheading" is a strange book. First of all, it sports a brilliant preface by the author, and truth be told, this preface is superior to the contents of the novel itself. In response to just a few pages, you feel compelled to buy the author's "Lectures on Literature", which are only a poor substitute for the real experience of listening to Nabokov in person. The author explains the intricacies of translation, done by his son, Dmitri, under the father's supervision, with particular emphasis put on the title. If you are lucky to know Russian, you will be able to appreciate the importance of the problem at hand, and in addition you will see how well this book is translated into English. At different points in his life Nabokov wrote in three different languages, and "Invitation to a Beheading" dates from 1934, in a period where the author still wrote in his beautiful and melodic mother tongue. This is an early book by this author, and ever since its publication it was compared to Franz Kafka's "The Castle", which annoyed Nabokov a little, which he ironically expresses in the aforementioned preface.

"Spiritual affinities have no place in my concept of literary criticism, but if I did have to choose a kindred soul, it would certainly be that great artist [Kafka - the Moose] rather than G. H. Orwell or other popular purveyors of illustrated ideas and publicistic fiction. Incidentally, I could never understand why every book of mine invariably sends reviewers scurrying in search of more or less celebrated names for the purpose of passionate comparison. During the last three decades they have hurled at me (to list but a few of these harmless missiles) Gogol, Tolstoyevski, Joyce, Voltaire, Sade, Stendhal, Balzac, Byron, Bierbohm, Proust, Kleist, Makar Marinski, Mary McCarthy, Meredith (!), Cervantes, Charlie Chaplin, Baroness Murasaki, Pushkin, Ruskin, and even Sebastian Knight. One author, however, has never been mentioned in this connection - the only author whom I must gratefully recognize as an influence upon me at the time of writing this book; namely, the melancholy, extravagant, wise, witty, magical, and altogether delightful Pierre Delalande, whom I invented."

Any type of plot summary will not give this book justice, for you must know that this book is not about the plot. In the case of Invitation to a Beheading, writing a blurb is much like writing a blurb with a summary of an Emily Dickinson poem. Well, once upon a time ago, in the paralell universe of the fantasy realm of Nabokov's imagination, Cincinnatus C. is captured, and found guilty of gnostic turpitude, a crime escaping definition. Cincinnatus has visions. He writes about them. His family visits him in the fortress, where he is locked. And he does not understand a thing of all this mess he found himself in. Yet he does not lose his wit, and tries to manage his fate as best he can. And it turns out that he can manage pretty much, considering. The book is Russian to the bone. Nowhere else are born authors with such a specific sense of humor and absurd. Mother Russia gave us many writers with unique, inimitable style. Nabokov is one of them, although a at the same time having been a prodigal son who never returned to his native land. Like Trevanian, he carried the kernel of culture within himself, he was the culture. Like any other escapist fantasy, Invitation to a beheading can be interpreted in many ways, and that has been done for the last 60 years, and then some, but submissing myself to the author's will, I will leave the story without any further comment. Suffice it to say that this novel is a difficult book, but if you happen to be so inclined, you will jump up, ruffling your hair, to paraphrase the author. I hope you will!

Whoever it was that wrote the encyclopedia entry at the top of this page either didn't read the book or didn't understand Nabakov. Invitation to a Beheading is one of the most gorgeous books I've ever read. To drop it under the label "anti-utopian" and try to resolve the ambiguities at the end in a poorly aimed summary doesn't even hint at the richness of the book. Thank goodness Nabakov dedicated his life to writing literature instead of lousey encyclopedia entries. Leaving the political and entering the artistic, the world Nabakov lived in after all, Invitation to a Beheading is one of the finest metaphores on the artistic condition I've ever read. Yes, Kafka is mild in comparision, and, as Nabakov always asserted, there's no connection anyway. --Dane Larsen

Often compared to "The Trial" and "The Castle", "Invitation to a Beheading" was written, according to Nabokov in the introduction to this edition, *before* he ever read Kafka. One can believe that or not; either way, Nabokov's book is much more surreal and slapstick than anything Kafka wrote. It is, however, a quintessentially Kafkanaian situation that we find the protagonist Cincinnatus C. facing as the novel opens. He's been sentenced to die; he's not sure why, but it seems it has something to do with his refusal--or constitutional inability--to make a show of enjoying the absurdities and inanities of the world around him. This rejection of conformity, of the communal bond, it seems, has caused society to condemn him for what is the greatest crime on can commit against the group: individuality.

Society demands complicity in its upholding of the consensual reality no matter how insane--and Cincinnatus C. won't endorse the insanity and thus he is a threat to reality itself, a destabilizing force.

I really enjoyed the first fifty pages or so of "Invitation," but one pretty much gets the idea after fifty pages and the routines and jokes wear stale. I found the book hard to finish, primarily, I think, for this very reason. But persevere I did. One thing that didn't help is that whoever the knuckleheads are over at Vintage who wrote the copy on this edition actually gave away the entire story, including the ending, right on the back cover! I mean, this isn't "Romeo and Juliet" or "The Christmas Carol" that we're talking about--we don't all know how it comes out in the end. Come on guys, use your heads.

Anyway, the back end of *Invitation to a Beheading* does have some rewarding moments, and Nabokov's prose is impeccable as always, his observations sharp, and his wit often laugh-out-loud funny. To give the book three stars, as I do, is simply to say that compared to Nabokov's best, it falls somewhere in the middle of the scale. An early work, perhaps not essential reading, but of continued interest nonetheless...even when you do know how it turns out in the end.

I first read this book as a student in the 1960's and was puzzled but liked it. It seemed, to quote Nabokov, a violin in a void. Suddenly in 1989 I realised it is a prophecy about the Fall of Communism, its symbolism very close to what actually happened: the State and its ideology - once wielding real power and terror- have withered to an absurd shell, its rewards and blandisments have someting of senile infantilism about them, only its power as a death-dealer is apparently undiminished. The victim, Cincinnatus, suddenly realises he has had enough, stands up and comes to his senses and the whole idiotic apparatus of oppression crumbles to dust. It could have been the story of Prague, Budapest, Warsaw or East Berlin in 1989. My favourite Nabakov, it is a beautiful, haunting and unforgettable piece of writing.

I only came to know of this early Nabokov novel by reading the wonderful "Reading Lolita in Tehran" by Azar Nafisi (highly recommended), a study of the relevance of literature in the personal quest for freedom from the crushing weight of oppression. Certainly the protagonist of "Invitation to a Beheading," Cincinnatus C., is a relevant case in point, given that he has been sentenced to death for an obscure crime (gnostical turpitude)and is constantly under the manipulatory pressures of absurd agents of the state. In this he is not at all unlike Nafisi and all the other victims of Khomeini's revolutionary guards who interpret the crimes as they go along. Others may find some parallels in modern America.

Many have compared this Nabokov (written in 1935) to Franz Kafka, but the wellspring is really more deeply rooted in the existential guilt that plagues the modern psyche. In earlier times, all shared in the social code of justice and understood the right and wrong, whether or not they agreed with it; but in the 20th century, there emerged a certain arbitrainess of authority that made potential criminals of all somewhere inside their minds. I think of the French author Celine in this context, as well as an unpublished novel of my own written almost 40 years ago.

So it is easy to see how Nafisi could apply the parallels to her situation in Tehran, forced to veil, forced to accept, unable to flee, to the situation of Cincinnatus C. I think that anyone who has lived an even mildly contemplative life can feel the constriction that such or any arbitrary authority causes.

But what I really want to say about "Invitation to a Beheading" is a bit more personal in nature. Have you ever awoken from a complex dream and thought, "I wish I could write this down, it's really a good story"? No one I have ever read, including Joyce, has done as well at capturing a dream state as Nabokov does in the early pages of "Invitation." And, as if to prove it is not a fluke or a lucky break, he comes back to it again and again, right up until the powerful closing scene.

"Invitation to a Beheading" is a powerful dream that too many of us have had, deep in our own gnostical turpitude. It is almost miraculous that one could capture it so well, especially one such as Nabokov whom we know for his open-eyed precision in the later works. But miraculous or not, our heightened ability to relate to it does not say good things about where we have come in the early days of the 21st century.

"Invitation" gives you a glimpse at the ghosts of Nabokov future. It shows off his love of little turns of phrase; eventually his style became more abstract, and the words themselves -- rather than the images they represented -- the center of attention. It also contains the barest outlines of his future cynicism toward reviewers, other writers, and even his reader. (Indeed, I'm never sure whether he likes anyone. I suspect he's the perfect misanthrope.)

This book, though, is not nearly as captivating as his later works. It only inspires me to go to the opposite end of his career and read "Ada, or Ardor." Those who've not experienced Nabokov would do well to read "Lolita," which despite its fame as some kind of highbrow erotica is not even vaguely so; indeed, the Vintage edition comes with Nabokov's (as always, astringent) response to those who think it pornographic. You could also try his autobiography "Speak, Memory," but it's always felt like Nabokov's flights of imagery were getting too self-satisfied in that book: yes, Nabokov, we know you're a stylist; now say something.

After "Lolita," I'd recommend "Pale Fire." It's Nabokov as his best and worst: stylistic fun, a maddeningly elusive story, and the sense that you're the victim of a very long joke.

As with all the Nabokov I've read, "Invitation to a Beheading" is worth reading. It's just that some of his books are more worth reading than others. In a life with finite time, I don't think one has time for "Invitation to a Beheading."

Yet another example of the beautiful style of Nabokov. Almost a fairy tale in which a man (Cinncinatus) is condemned to death for knowing too much. The society which sentences him is ludicrous and humourous at the same time, too outlandish to believe, and the main character is the only man who could be considered in touch with reality. In the end as he is on the chopping block, Cinncinatus suddenly leaves this "reality" behind, and the whole world, executioner and all, crumbles behind him. This book was a constant attention getter, drawing me in to the realm of a man captured by a sick society for the crime of being real. This book is worth the read just for the power of storytelling that Nabokov exhibits.

A very underrated Nabokov book. This is an absurd, dark and above all hilarious book about a man sentenced to death for a reason he is not sure of. The executioner (who pretends to be another inmate in order to befriend the sentenced man) is one of the most brillant characters in any comedic work.

Highly recommend to anyone who is a fan of absurd humorous books.

It's almost impossible to give Nabokov anything LESS than five stars. He has become such a giant in the world of literature, that one ceases to be able to compare his work to other authors, and instead begins to hold them up against Nabokov's other works.

To validate the statements of so many below, "Invitation to a Beheading" is probably not good intro-Nabokov. Some will find the familiarity of his other works more palatable. As well, it may be unwise to tackle this text without a general knowledge of Eastern European politics.

The text is somewhat muddled in places, and I had a hard time deciding whose fault this was...the author's or the editor's. Some sentences were malingering, unclear, and broke up the natural flow of Nabokov's text, which usually reads easily. In the end, I chose sloppy editing and read on.

This text is HIGHLY introspective and symbolic, and I found myself actually applying pen-and-paper to the symbols I encountered, trying to sort out what Nabokov was saying. So saying, this book ended up being more academic reading than pleasure reading, but has nevertheless taken up quick residence on my favorite bookshelf.