Spurred on by admiration for his novelist half-brother and irritation at the biography written about him by Mr Goodman ('his slapdash and very misleading book'), the narrator, V, sets out to record Sebastian Knight's life as he understands it. But buried amid the extensive quoting, digressions, seeming explanations and digs, Sebastian's erratic and troubled persona remains as elusive as ever. Nabokov's first novel written in English, "The Real Life of Sebastian Knight" is a nuanced, enigmatic potrayal of the conflict between the real and the unreal, and the futile quest for human truth.
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Book Description
Editorial Reviews
Amazon.com Review
"I am very happy that you liked that little book," wrote Vladimir Nabokov to Edmund Wilson in 1941. "As I think I told you, I wrote it five years ago, in Paris, on the implement called bidet as a writing desk--because we lived in one room and I had to use our small bathroom as a study." The book in question was The Real Life of Sebastian Knight. And despite its humble origins, Nabokov's first novel in English showed him to be in absolute command of his adopted language.
Like many of the author's later triumphs, this one revolves around a question of identity. The late Sebastian Knight, we discover, was a transplanted Russian novelist whose taste for linguistic trickery bears a certain resemblance to Nabokov's. Now his half-brother is attempting to reconstruct the existence of this elusive figure. As he readily admits, the raw material isn't exactly the stuff of melodrama: "Sebastian's life, though far from being dull, lacked the terrific vigour of his literary style." But even the most mundane facts prove difficult for the narrator to nail down. He does, on the other hand, describe Sebastian's creative processes in exquisite and accurate detail:
His struggle with words was usually painful and this for two reasons. One was the common one with writers of his type: the bridging of the abyss lying between expression and thought; the maddening feeling that the right words, the only words are awaiting you on the opposite bank in the misty distance, and the shudderings of the still unclothed thought clamouring for them on this side of the abyss.Sebastian's real life--or anybody's, for that matter--refuses to yield up a verbal equivalent. Still, the narrator manages a kind of fraternal fusion with his subject on the book's final page, which suggests a fluid and very Nabokovian view of identity itself. For this reason, and for the splendors of its prose, The Real Life of Sebastian Knight is a necessary read. It's also safe to say that it's the very best novel ever written on a bidet. --James Marcus --This text refers to an alternate Paperback edition.
Review
Novel by Vladimir Nabokov, published in 1941. It was his first prose narrative in English. The work, which is a satire of literary biography and scholarship, purports to be the true biography of a great writer, the late and neglected Sebastian Knight; it is written by his half brother, V., in response to another biographer's belittling analysis of Sebastian. Before long, however, V.'s "biography" turns into a mystery story, as he searches for the true facts about Sebastian among Sebastian's acquaintances. Himself a mediocre writer, V. eventually has a crisis of identity and his search for the real Sebastian becomes a search for himself. -- The Merriam-Webster Encyclopedia of Literature
--This text refers to an alternate
Paperback
edition.
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More About the Author
Vladimir Vladimirovich Nabokov was born on April 23, 1899, in St. Petersburg, Russia. The Nabokov household was trilingual, and as a young man, he studied Slavic and romance languages at Trinity College, Cambridge, taking his honors degree in 1922. For the next eighteen years he lived in Berlin and Paris, writing prolifically in Russian under the pseudonym Sirin and supporting himself through translations, lessons in English and tennis, and by composing the first crossword puzzles in Russian. In 1925 he married Vera Slonim, with whom he had one child, a son, Dmitri. Having already fled Russia and Germany, Nabokov became a refugee once more in 1940, when he was forced to leave France for the United States. There he taught at Wellesley, Harvard, and Cornell. He also gave up writing in Russian and began composing ficticvbn ral books of criticism. Vladimir Nabokov died in Montreux, Switzerland, in 1977.
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10 of 10 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
My Brother, Myself,
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This review is from: The Real Life of Sebastian Knight (Paperback)
This exquisitely written novel fills one with despair. It is a sadness that was perhaps felt by many after such rare and creative geniuses as Mozart, Van Gogh, Shubert, and Gershwin all died too young after such short careers. Some of these men, like Sebastian Knight, died in relative obscurity. Sebastian's half-brother, the narrator of this novel, enters upon a journey to uncover the last months of Sebastian's life, to discover his secret, and perhaps to find out about the shadowy woman who was supposedly his last lover.Sebastian's handful of books were admired by some of the critics, who found them scholarly and poetic, and his last novel was judged a masterpiece. Most of Sebastian's books were little read by a public who were probably more inclined to read the popular potboilers of the day. The half-brother, while loving and admiring Sebastian, barely knew him himself, only knowing that Sebastian lead a lonely, sad existence, and that he suffered from a congenital heart condition. What lends much of the novel its sadness is the palpable desperation of the narrator's quest. While his efforts in uncovering his brother's secret may have been less than successful, he did learn much about what Nabokov calls our common shared humanity with the souls of others. This is a beautifully written and heartfelt narrative that should be read by those who appreciate great literature.
10 of 11 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Master of language,
By A Customer
This review is from: The Real Life of Sebastian Knight (Paperback)
This is my first try with Nabokov, and I must say that I was almost overwhelmed by his masterful and playful use of the English language. A fun little detective story rests atop a rather dark investigation into the nature of human identity. In fact, there are many layers of meaning mixed up with so many cruel jests in this book, that often I found myself passing them by, promising aloud that I would read the book many more times. Recommended for all serious readers.
10 of 11 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
A subtle, funny, puzzling book, wonderfully written.,
By A Customer
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This review is from: The Real Life of Sebastian Knight (Paperback)
I usually dislike the unreliability and uncertainty of the postmodern novel, the often tiresome games the writer plays with the reader's credulity, the deliberate undercutting of the illusion of reality. But for me at least Nabokov succeeds where so many fail. This is a charming and convincing narrative, mixed with what strikes me as a deliberately insoluble mystery of identity. I can't tell you why it works; perhaps just because it is extremely well-written without a touch of the self-conscious strain of modern "literary" writing. Lots of humor. Very satisfying read.
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