Customer Reviews

Love in a Dead Language

5 star:		(14)
4 star:		(5)
3 star:		(1)
2 star:		(3)
1 star:		(9)

 

 

One of the most striking things about Love in a Dead Language is that it has, not one, but five, dedications. This is the first indication that this book is going to be something completely out of the ordinary. And it is.

The first dedication is from Lee Siegel, a professor of Indian religions at the University of Hawaii, the author of this very unusual book. The second is from the Hindu sage Vatsyayana, author the classic (and silly) treatise on love, the Kamasutra. Then there are also dedications from the novel's own cast of characters: Leopold Roth, a fictional professor of linguistics who attempted to translate the Kamasutra; Pralayananga Lilaraja, a medieval scholar; and Anang Saighal, and Indo-Jewish graduate student, who, according to this story, has just put the entire volume together.

After this rather unorthodox beginning, Love in a Dead Language just keeps getting better and better and more and more inventive. It is, reportedly, Roth's failed attempt at translation, along with his commentary. Together they form, not his own view of the Kamasutra, but rather his obsession with, and seduction of, a beautiful Indo-American girl, Lalita Gupta. (Yes, this is an allusion to Vladimir Nabokov's Lolita, and it is not the only Nabokov allusion in this novel, all to the good.)

These two texts are accompanied by comments and footnotes from Pralayananga, also autobiographical, and Saighal, who completes the narrative after Roth is murdered when an unknown assailant hurls a Sanskrit-English dictionary squarely at his head.

Interspersed among this madness are extracts of Hollywood movie scripts about India, posters of Mira Nair's film, Kamasutra, a term paper complete with the teacher's notes and pages from a comic book Kamasutra (as if the original isn't comic enough). Then we have the real and imagined quotes from the real and imagined writers on India from various centuries, letters, including one from Siegel, and, most hilarious of all, bits and pieces from the memoirs of a ninety-five year old movie star which are, amazingly, dedicated to a porn actress. The above are already more surprises than almost any book packs, but Love in a Dead Language packs even more. A little more than halfway through, we must turn the book upside down, since one of the chapters is printed that way. Deliberately, of course.

Siegel's inventiveness and originality of style are not the only thing that distinguishes this book. His use of language is nothing if it is not brilliant and creative. Siegel masters so many styles and voices it's difficult to believe he created them all. There is the erudite academic, the barely-literate jock, the silly campus newspaper, the just-average student. Amazingly, Siegel writes parodic Hinglish, American slang and flowery Victoriana with equal style, wit and aplomb. The result is both hilarious and hysterical.

The book ends with a bibliography that is so convincing you will be tempted to take it seriously. Don't. It would only spoil the fun. And fun, above all else, is what this book is about. There are more jokes, puns, asides and riddles in this book than any one person can possibly mine. It is virtuoso feat of the highest order. A sweet, methodical madness that will leave you laughing so hard you'll find it difficult to keep on reading.

I just finished Love in a Dead Language and pulled up the reviews to see the superlatives used to describe it. I was blown away at the poor reviews! Based upon the other reviews, it is clear that this book clearly isn't for everyone, but I found it erudite, challenging, engaging, laugh-out-loud funny and very entertaining. I couldn't put it down. With the weaving together of all the different authors/commentaries/texts/footnotes -- I kept asking myself if this was really fiction. Prof. Siegel should be praised and encouraged to do it again! I especially loved Saighal's scarcasm. Literary Reader: Do not be put off by the negatives. A fantasy world awaits you!

First, let me say that Lee Siegel's novel is something of a tour-de-force of cleverness and humor which will especially appeal to a reader who has spent any time in the world of academics. It may sound almost like a put-down that I didn't also mention how deep, or moving I found it, but that feeling has to come later, after one has already read this novel, had a chance to think it over, and considered the intensity behind its glibness.

The novel's format is rather ingenious; each chapter consists of a portion of character Leopold Roth's somewhat strange translation of the Kama Sutra, followed by a section of commentary, which is where the novel's real story occurs. All of this, however is footnoted, sometimes sarcastically, sometimes seriously, by one of Roth's assistants. It reads pleasantly and humorously, like a very strange, rather messed up academic collaboration. The story? Well, no problems with that either. Roth, an unappreciated professor of Indian religions, with a loving wife, and stable existence, also has a great obsession with India itself, which translates itself into a huge infatuation with one of his students, a beautiful, but decidedly sullen and uninteresting Lalita Gupta. Roth contrives and succeeds in getting her to go to India with him (long story), where he intends to seduce her. This is where the fun begins plot-wise, and I could go on for pages about Siegel's wonderful depictions of the beautiful contradictoriness of India and its people, and how it transforms the characters. Siegel's insight into human nature goes so far beyond what the clever humon of the book would allow its reader to believe, that I was stunned.

I won't give away how the book ends, but most reading this review already know that it ends somewhat tragically. But don't expect to be weeping at the turn of events: the book carries on with just the same hutzpah and humor, right until the very end. In fact, as I said before, it's only afterward that one starts to consider the depth behind the words, Roth's great disappointments, and the sadness of people who can never quite connect with each other. This can be enjoyed on many levels.

I came to this book knowing something, but not a lot, about literary theory; and something, but not a lot, about India. To enjoy this book you need at least a bit of background in each. Those who complain about the tepid plot and wooden characters, I think, miss the point; the story is not much more than a device Siegel uses for his very clever, and often hilarious, commentary on orientalism, on academia, and especially on the relationship between author, character, and reader. I found the book slow going at first but once I understood this I had a great time!

There have been enough summaries of this text in other reviews so I won't venture my summary here. Perhaps it's enough just for me to say I experienced the book as a journey, an interloping & interlooping series of stories that may (or may not) involve the author with the narrator(s) & the narrators appearing to come to life & enter into the (presumed) real life of the author, Lee Siegel. Just who is who in this moebius strip of self revelation? The chief narrator, Roth, is a creation of the author, Siegel, but Roth is translating the KamaSutra & in doing so has so fallen for the narrative that he is possessed by the desire to act it out, regardless of reality, his (fictional) position & truly wonderful wife. He loses touch with his (fictional) reality to create his text within a text reality of India & romantico-erotic love with his alluring but bland student. Not only is nothing real in their relationship, it soon becomes clear that Roth (who is fictional) is imposing his vision of ancient, classical & wondrous India upon the current run-down state of the Indian cities & temples. All this writing seems to wear out our author (Siegel) who seems himself to feel the text of the KamaSutra & Roth's infidelities wearing on him so he must enter the (fictional) text in person to intervene. The whole thing is a wonderful phantasmagoria, with stories within stories within stories. Is it comedy? Sure, if you like. Is it tragedy? Undoubtedly, if you read it as such. Is it love story? Well, I found it to be one, partially, sometimes. Is it erotic literature about erotic literature within erotic literature? Absolutely, whatever that means.

I agree with others who say the book is not for everyone, as some very disgruntled reviews show. But that makes it all the more special. It is for readers with acumen, some willingness to suspend expectations, to follow narratives back into themselves instead of steadily progressing to a satisfyingly expected conclusion, & to ask questions about writing, about loving, about textuality & reality that perhaps can never really be answered. *...Dead Language* could be labelled as postmodern, but the truly postmodern resists such labels. It just is what it is and what it is to me is a book that breaks open barriers in writing, self, characters, authors, narrators, & events in a way that feels ultimately unspeakably enlightening. In short, I feel this wondrous, sometimes befuddling, book is a masterpiece.

I too am rather shocked at the negative reviews given to this book, and at how these readers are all judging the book by what it is NOT rather than what it IS.

This novel is a complex, multi-layered commentary on love in our day and age, perhaps not unlike the Kama Sutra must have been in its day. It is a deeply ironic parody, on oh-so many things (including itself), and a new playful voice in both subtext and style. But rather than being just parody, the book finds its own voice, its own life, and becomes a unique entity in itself. It is hilarious, touching, and poignant. This is the most original novel I've read in some time. The patchwork of styles and formats bring an entirely new element to the physical book, while the plays on forms and perspectives and TRANSLATIONS on the meanings of love and life (through the eyes of many characters) give the book a new style of MEANING. Perspectives are askew, points of view are varied in the extreme - much like the format they are printed in. His parodies and literary charades are in the most amazingly scholastic detail, so well done, in fact, I can see how many might (consciously or subconsciously) mistake the whole thing for a scholarly textbook. But read between the lines, know the jest, and the novel comes to life.

The novel is not a rip-off of Lolita but a parody. In this respect the main character is obviously NOT an alter go of Siegel. As for Seigel including himself peripherally (at best) in the story is a jest on himself (Seigel's main character invites Siegel to a `most boring person' contest).

Some have also claimed this novel not to be a good story. I beg to differ. Granted it is not an OBVIOUS story; those I'm sure Siegel will leave to the Grisham/Crichton/King school. Siegel's story is not only a good one, but a profound one. In this novel, his story bridges the gap between love and obsession, comedy and tragedy, life and death. The question is not whether or not Siegel can tell a good story, the question is rather who is able, and willing, to read a good story.

Utterly. Absolutely. Stunning.

Enough new words and lexical tomfoolery to keep the left-brained wordfetishist part of my brain occupied, with a compelling plot and a refreshingly novel structure.

I will recommend this book to friends, and since I borrowed the copy I read, I'll buy a copy to loan to them.

Lee Siegel's "Love in a Dead Language" is an academic comic novel that is not for everyone. Especially for academics who take themselves so seriously that they would not consider including their own real names in their scathing negative reviews. I don't think anyone will read every word of it, and there's something to offend everyone. Nevertheless, I laughed out loud several times while reading it. One dreadful term paper and some pages from a fantasy web site on the Kamasutra are worth the price of the book.

It took a bit to get through the beginning of this novel, but once I did it was quite a ride. The story twists in on itself, mocks itself, both laughs at and loves its subjects and characters and takes you on a journey across continents, cultures and generations. And it does so with a use of language that at times had me grinning like an idiot from that alone.... and rereading sections just to enjoy that flow again.

I'm no academic (which some are claiming is needed to enjoy this novel), but I highly recommend this book. It is great fun for anyone with a vocabulary above that of an 8th grader.

A wonderful sendup of academic and scholarly pretensions. I laughed out loud many times as I recognized aspects of myself and my colleagues who work in those hallowed halls. A must read for all students of "higher" education.