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Transparent Things
 
 

Transparent Things [Kindle Edition]

Vladimir Nabokov
4.5 out of 5 stars  See all reviews (17 customer reviews)

Print List Price: $13.00
Kindle Price: $9.99 includes free wireless delivery via Amazon Whispernet
You Save: $3.01 (23%)
Sold by: Random House Digital, Inc.
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Editorial Reviews

Product Description

"Transparent Things revolves around the four visits of the hero--sullen, gawky Hugh Person--to Switzerland . . .  As a young publisher, Hugh is sent to interview R., falls in love with Armande on the way, wrests her, after  multiple humiliations, from a grinning Scandinavian and returns to NY with his bride. . . . Eight years later--following a murder, a period of madness and a brief imprisonment--Hugh makes a lone sentimental journey to wheedle out his past. . . . The several strands of dream, memory, and time [are] set off against the literary theorizing of R. and, more centrally, against the world of observable objects."  --Martin Amis


From the Trade Paperback edition.

From the Inside Flap

"Transparent Things revolves around the four visits of the hero--sullen, gawky Hugh Person--to Switzerland . . . As a young publisher, Hugh is sent to interview R., falls in love with Armande on the way, wrests her, after multiple humiliations, from a grinning Scandinavian and returns to NY with his bride. . . . Eight years later--following a murder, a period of madness and a brief imprisonment--Hugh makes a lone sentimental journey to wheedle out his past. . . . The several strands of dream, memory, and time [are] set off against the literary theorizing of R. and, more centrally, against the world of observable objects." --Martin Amis

Product Details

  • Format: Kindle Edition
  • File Size: 211 KB
  • Publisher: Vintage (February 16, 2011)
  • Sold by: Random House Digital, Inc.
  • Language: English
  • ASIN: B004KABF00
  • Text-to-Speech: Enabled
  • Average Customer Review: 4.5 out of 5 stars  See all reviews (17 customer reviews)
  • Amazon Best Sellers Rank: #331,199 Paid in Kindle Store (See Top 100 Paid in Kindle Store)
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Customer Reviews

17 Reviews
5 star:
 (11)
4 star:
 (3)
3 star:
 (3)
2 star:    (0)
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Average Customer Review
4.5 out of 5 stars (17 customer reviews)
 
 
 
 
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9 of 9 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars powerful and full of texture, yet deliciously brief, May 25, 2004
By 
Robert J. Crawford (Balmette Talloires, France) - See all my reviews
(TOP 1000 REVIEWER)    (REAL NAME)   
This review is from: Transparent Things (Paperback)
This is typical brilliant Nabokov, with plenty of detail and mysterious threads laid down throughout that the imaginative can choose to follow or ignore. Because it was written in English rather than translated, Nabokov's prose is at its most powerful and organic - by far. The stories in this are extremely haunting, at least for me, musing on the nature of life after death, among many other themes. It is true genius and you can read it in a single sitting. Get it. You won't be disappointed.
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15 of 17 people found the following review helpful:
3.0 out of 5 stars Neither Nabokov's best ..., June 29, 2000
By 
This review is from: Transparent Things (Paperback)
nor a good starting point. While stylistically very much in keeping with works such as Lolita and Pale Fire (lyrical, smooth, entertaining, moving. A passage describing a pencil stub found in a hotel desk sticks in my memory. Nabokov gives it more life in a long paragraph than other authors can bestow upon a human character in a hundred pages), Transparent Things seems to trade the clever warmth of the earlier novels for a more experimental cleverness which gives the book the cooler feel of a puzzle box or jigsaw puzzle.

While its comparatively inaccessible structure is off-putting, what I found most bothersome about Transparent Things was my inability to relate Nabokov's fragmented narration to the story being told. The text feels like a camera with a macro lens following Person through his life, picking up this object here, this scene there, all in magnified detail, but to an end that escapes me.

One of Nabokov's greatest strengths is the multilayered nature of his novels. He is one of the exceptionally rare authors who allows a reader to take away exactly what they bring in. But this is not a one-sided trait, by which he crafts a text that runs infinitely deep and from which only the exceptionally scholarly are able to extract every last allusion and nuance from the text. It also means that over this depth there is a simple story that any reader can follow. In Transparent Things, this gift of Nabokov's seems employed in reverse, in that what is in essence a very simple story lies not on the surface, but is occluded by a layer of decidedly opaque murk.

Perhaps this is the point of the novel--that things are not transparent, that every object does not present its story as simply as a novel does, but rather gives us hard, solid surfaces. However, an author such as Nabokov wastes his talent in making such a point. There are enough inscrutable surfaces in the world, but not enough books like Pale Fire, which offer, like cut diamond, varying degrees of transparency, depending on a viewer's angle.

Save this one for later.

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26 of 32 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars A singular achievement, truly, March 29, 1998
This review is from: Transparent Things (Paperback)
While Vladimir Nabokov is perhaps metafiction's most important literary lion, he is far from its founder. However, with his penultimate novel, TRANSPARENT THINGS, he actually takes transcends metafiction, quite literally removing it from this world and placing it firmly in the next. To put it bluntly (and putting aside all questions of quality), TT is an incomparable work.

Although barely 100 pages, TT is one of the world's very most complex works of literature. To speak of the plot is deceiving since the perspective from and the manner in which the cynosure (viz., Hugh Person)'s tale is told -- and how he eventually relates to the teller(s)/telling -- is what the text is "about"; and comprehending this is no easy feat. While I personally don't consider John Updike a great mind, I don't think he can be derided for admitting that he was completely baffled by TT. (Incidentally, he still professed to admire and enjoy it.) This was, in fact, the general reaction to this book, a reaction which so frustrated Nabokov that he was prompted to break with his general reluctance to explicate his own work (an explication which he was obviously quite annoyed (and baffled to have) to give, as the confusion on the his readers' collective part was not due to any insufficiency in the book). (I hesitate to divulge where this interview can be found, but if you read the book and are similarly perplexed, any decent compendium on Nabokovian criticism will contain it, as there is VERY little that has been written on TT.) What can hardly be debated is the singular narrative approach Nabokov employs -- nay, creates! This novelty alone puts the reader in a place (s)he has never been and so a form or degree of literary vertigo is to be expected.

As with all Nabokov, no matter the complexity and subtextual goings-on, the plot and character development of TT is not slighted -- and it is perhaps this Nabokovian trait which often allows even those who realize that they are perhaps missing the bulk of Nabokov's artisanship to still appreciate his art. Personally, I have neither enjoyed nor admired a work of art any more profoundly than I do this one.

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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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