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charlottesometimes's review
reflective
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.25
nocto's review
reflective
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
3.0
Volume 11, we're reaching the end I guess, and the characters have aged a little, I think they are in their mid-fifties and it must be the 1960s or thereabouts. Everything is beginning to seem a bit more modern to me anyhow. The same characters get pulled out for another spin around the carousel. To me the most unlikely thing about this book is the way the same people bump into the same other people again for decade after decade, but it's the point of the series really. I mean it's in the title of the series I guess, but it only dawned on me what it meant after numerous books.
This volume is a bit lacking in the middle. The beginning in Venice is interesting and gets off to a faster start than most of the other books, and the ends are always good. But the middles just don't do it for me and I end up putting the books down for weeks and forgetting what is happening. This one more so than some of the others, and yet I didn't think it was a bad book overall.
Usually I read on with a series because I'm enjoying finding out about the characters lives, that's often the case even in, for example, a series of mysteries where there is theoretically a different plot to each book, but I know I come back for the soap opera bits that go along with the mystery as much as anything. I don't find I really care what happens to most of the characters here. Some of the ones I liked best are already dead and gone, and I'm mostly reading on now just to get to the end. Which isn't a great endorsement really!
This volume is a bit lacking in the middle. The beginning in Venice is interesting and gets off to a faster start than most of the other books, and the ends are always good. But the middles just don't do it for me and I end up putting the books down for weeks and forgetting what is happening. This one more so than some of the others, and yet I didn't think it was a bad book overall.
Usually I read on with a series because I'm enjoying finding out about the characters lives, that's often the case even in, for example, a series of mysteries where there is theoretically a different plot to each book, but I know I come back for the soap opera bits that go along with the mystery as much as anything. I don't find I really care what happens to most of the characters here. Some of the ones I liked best are already dead and gone, and I'm mostly reading on now just to get to the end. Which isn't a great endorsement really!
bookpossum's review against another edition
4.0
Another wonderful volume in this terrific series. I took a long time over it because of other demands on my time,not because of any lack of enjoyment to be had. That extraordinary creation, Pamela Widmerpool carves her usual swathe through those unfortunate enough to cross her path. Various characters old and new do not disappoint each time they appear and reappear in the dance.
Alas, only one volume remains, and I intend to read it over the next few days, Christmas and other events permitting.
Alas, only one volume remains, and I intend to read it over the next few days, Christmas and other events permitting.
omnibozo22's review against another edition
4.0
With the war over Nick Jenkins returns to respectable writing as his family and friends whirl around in the comparatively joyful years after the war. Connections develop and dissolve as tragedies mount, affecting all.
ampersunder's review against another edition
4.0
‰ЫПThe Venetian trip, contrary to the promises of Mark Members, had not renewed energies for writing. All the same, established priorities, personal continuities, the confused scheme of things making up everyday life, all revived, routines proceeding much as before. The Conference settled down in the mind as a kind of dream, one of those dreams laden with the stuff of real life, stopping just the right side of nightmare, yet leaving disturbing undercurrents to haunt the daytime, clogging sources of imagination ‰ЫУ whatever those may be ‰ЫУ causing their enigmatic flow to ooze more sluggishly than ever, periodically to cease entirely.‰Ыќ
---
I bought my set of Dance to the Music of Time online from a used book seller. Each of the twelve books is pocket-sized and cream-coloured (perhaps originally white), most in pretty good shape. Temporary Kings had at some point before arriving in my hands suffered water damage, enough to create a permanent wave in the pages which crackled when bent and refused to straighten. Unlike with most paperbacks, it felt good to bend back the cover while reading, giving the impression of improving the book‰ЫЄs physical state rather than abusing it because only then did the wave disappear. The edges of the pages showed where whatever liquid it was had soaked into the fibres, although the surface of the pages were not discoloured. It was a book I would have kept in my pocket if I‰ЫЄd had a pocket that was big enough to hold it. It felt like a book to read alone in a pub over a hot and savoury meal covered in gravy while it rained outside. Instead I began reading it immediately after finishing the preceding novel in the lounge at the airport in Singapore waiting for the flight to Frankfurt while my travel companion napped in the chair across from me; continued it in bed before going to sleep, on the bus in the morning dizzy with sleepiness, on the walks to and from bus stops on the way to school or home while the daylight lasted, and finally in the living room today while high winds blew all sorts of weather past our windows.
---
I bought my set of Dance to the Music of Time online from a used book seller. Each of the twelve books is pocket-sized and cream-coloured (perhaps originally white), most in pretty good shape. Temporary Kings had at some point before arriving in my hands suffered water damage, enough to create a permanent wave in the pages which crackled when bent and refused to straighten. Unlike with most paperbacks, it felt good to bend back the cover while reading, giving the impression of improving the book‰ЫЄs physical state rather than abusing it because only then did the wave disappear. The edges of the pages showed where whatever liquid it was had soaked into the fibres, although the surface of the pages were not discoloured. It was a book I would have kept in my pocket if I‰ЫЄd had a pocket that was big enough to hold it. It felt like a book to read alone in a pub over a hot and savoury meal covered in gravy while it rained outside. Instead I began reading it immediately after finishing the preceding novel in the lounge at the airport in Singapore waiting for the flight to Frankfurt while my travel companion napped in the chair across from me; continued it in bed before going to sleep, on the bus in the morning dizzy with sleepiness, on the walks to and from bus stops on the way to school or home while the daylight lasted, and finally in the living room today while high winds blew all sorts of weather past our windows.
sophronisba's review against another edition
3.0
I still think this series is interesting and worth your time -- I am still planning to reread it in a few years! But. Honestly I am getting kind of tired of the unrelenting maleness of this series. For which I cannot really fault Anthony Powell (who was, after all, male) and yet there it is. None of the women feel real and it strikes me as odd that the viewpoint character has a great deal to say about his former school chums whom he no longer knows well, but almost nothing of his wife and children.
I was thinking about this because my other reading project this year is Dickens, who also has a very specific male point-of-view, and it does seem to me that over time, Dickens develops more complicated and interesting female characters and even seems to begin to understand that women have their own interior lives (if only he had applied that observation to his own wife). But Powell doesn't seem to have that evolution, at least in this series. Of course Powell had a very different project and you could argue that, like Jane Austen, he is painting with a fine brush on a two inches of ivory. Still, I do begin to find it irksome.
I was thinking about this because my other reading project this year is Dickens, who also has a very specific male point-of-view, and it does seem to me that over time, Dickens develops more complicated and interesting female characters and even seems to begin to understand that women have their own interior lives (if only he had applied that observation to his own wife). But Powell doesn't seem to have that evolution, at least in this series. Of course Powell had a very different project and you could argue that, like Jane Austen, he is painting with a fine brush on a two inches of ivory. Still, I do begin to find it irksome.
smcleish's review against another edition
4.0
Originally published on my blog here in April 2000.
The penultimate novel in The Dance to the Music of Time has the more significant part of its plot set in Venice, where events are set in motion which later come to a head in London. Most of the Venetian action revolves around a little known Tiepolo fresco on the subject of Candaules and Gyges. There are various versions of this Greek legend, but basically Candaules was a king of Lydia who hid his general Gyges in the royal apartments so that he could see for himself the beauty of his queen. Either Gyges then becomes infatuated by the queen, or she discovers what her husband has done and seduces Gyges in a fit of pique, but whatever happens, Candaules was eventually deposed from his throne and his marriage bed by his general. (This is part of the point of the title.)
This legend bears a particular importance to the novel, but its ironic intent is also clear: like Gyges, the readers are voyeurs of the lives of the people that the author has chosen to exhibit to us.
The main interest of the novel is, as in the last few books preceding it in the series, the marriage of Kenneth (now a life peer) and Pamela Widmerpool. One of their arguments provides the climactic scene of the novel, which is a brilliant piece of writing. Powell abandons his usual first person narrative to give us the scene as pieced together by Nick Jenkins from accounts told to him by actual witnesses. This gives it both a feeling of unreality (the reader is alienated from the action, which itself is interrupted by discussions about which witness is likely to be most reliable in remembering particular aspects of the scene) and portentousness (by recalling a legal trial). It is perhaps the best writing in the whole series.
As a novel, Temporary Kings suffers from similar problems to the earlier parts of A Dance to the Music of Time. There are far too many coincidental meetings; and Pamela Widmerpool in particular is not a very believable character (interesting though she may be). The Venetian scenes are not terribly impressive, though necessary to set up the brilliant climax which makes the book.
The penultimate novel in The Dance to the Music of Time has the more significant part of its plot set in Venice, where events are set in motion which later come to a head in London. Most of the Venetian action revolves around a little known Tiepolo fresco on the subject of Candaules and Gyges. There are various versions of this Greek legend, but basically Candaules was a king of Lydia who hid his general Gyges in the royal apartments so that he could see for himself the beauty of his queen. Either Gyges then becomes infatuated by the queen, or she discovers what her husband has done and seduces Gyges in a fit of pique, but whatever happens, Candaules was eventually deposed from his throne and his marriage bed by his general. (This is part of the point of the title.)
This legend bears a particular importance to the novel, but its ironic intent is also clear: like Gyges, the readers are voyeurs of the lives of the people that the author has chosen to exhibit to us.
The main interest of the novel is, as in the last few books preceding it in the series, the marriage of Kenneth (now a life peer) and Pamela Widmerpool. One of their arguments provides the climactic scene of the novel, which is a brilliant piece of writing. Powell abandons his usual first person narrative to give us the scene as pieced together by Nick Jenkins from accounts told to him by actual witnesses. This gives it both a feeling of unreality (the reader is alienated from the action, which itself is interrupted by discussions about which witness is likely to be most reliable in remembering particular aspects of the scene) and portentousness (by recalling a legal trial). It is perhaps the best writing in the whole series.
As a novel, Temporary Kings suffers from similar problems to the earlier parts of A Dance to the Music of Time. There are far too many coincidental meetings; and Pamela Widmerpool in particular is not a very believable character (interesting though she may be). The Venetian scenes are not terribly impressive, though necessary to set up the brilliant climax which makes the book.
darwin8u's review against another edition
4.0
"Reading Novels needs almost as much talent as writing them."
- Anthony Powell, Temporary Kings
"Candaules, King of Lydia, Shews his Wife by Stealth to Gyges, One of his Ministers, As She Goes to Bed", by William Etty
Powell's 11th book (book 2 in the Fourth Movement, 11/12 in the Series, the Penultimate*) Temporary Kings opens at an international literary conference in Venice. The literary pot is beginning to boil. Who knew the literary world was such a Casino Royale of intrigue. I really think Powell set this novel's beginning in Venice to make the reader think of the Romantic era, but also of the Doges of Venice and all those dukes and kings that seemed to rise and fall during the period between Rome and the Romantics. Hell, I'm probably way off, but that's my wall and I'm going to lean against it.
“Le Roi Candaules,” Jean-Léon Gérôme
More than almost any book, except the series itself (Dance to the Music of Time), Temporary Kings seems dominated and driven by a work of art. Art and music, like food and sex, are scattered in all of Powell's novels, but in this one, a painting of Candaules and Gyges by Tiepolo. In the myth Candaules, the Lydian (Sardis) king has a fatal enthusiasm to show his queen’s naked body to his lieutenant Gyges (without her knowledge or permission). She discovers her husband's peeping sin and invites Gyges to kill him and take his place on the throne. Powell practically beats the reader over the head with this idea. The myth itself is fairly melodramatic (characters in the book discuss the myth as a perfect Opera story), but also seems to parallel some of the activity of some major characters.
* I've been waiting a helluva long time to say that in a review of these books. 11 down, 1 to go.
- Anthony Powell, Temporary Kings
"Candaules, King of Lydia, Shews his Wife by Stealth to Gyges, One of his Ministers, As She Goes to Bed", by William Etty
Powell's 11th book (book 2 in the Fourth Movement, 11/12 in the Series, the Penultimate*) Temporary Kings opens at an international literary conference in Venice. The literary pot is beginning to boil. Who knew the literary world was such a Casino Royale of intrigue. I really think Powell set this novel's beginning in Venice to make the reader think of the Romantic era, but also of the Doges of Venice and all those dukes and kings that seemed to rise and fall during the period between Rome and the Romantics. Hell, I'm probably way off, but that's my wall and I'm going to lean against it.
“Le Roi Candaules,” Jean-Léon Gérôme
More than almost any book, except the series itself (Dance to the Music of Time), Temporary Kings seems dominated and driven by a work of art. Art and music, like food and sex, are scattered in all of Powell's novels, but in this one, a painting of Candaules and Gyges by Tiepolo. In the myth Candaules, the Lydian (Sardis) king has a fatal enthusiasm to show his queen’s naked body to his lieutenant Gyges (without her knowledge or permission). She discovers her husband's peeping sin and invites Gyges to kill him and take his place on the throne. Powell practically beats the reader over the head with this idea. The myth itself is fairly melodramatic (characters in the book discuss the myth as a perfect Opera story), but also seems to parallel some of the activity of some major characters.
* I've been waiting a helluva long time to say that in a review of these books. 11 down, 1 to go.
lnatal's review against another edition
3.0
The title is a possible reference to The Golden Bough, which has a section with the same title concerning the practice in the ancient world of appointing kings for a brief period, at the end of which they would be executed. The novel introduces a surreal element, mischievously portraying the literary world as politically corrupt and riven with dark deeds. After the passage of a decade the consequences of unyielding ambition are suggested by the storm brewing around Powell's dark angel, Kenneth Widmerpool. Espionage and even necrophilia are hinted at.
4* A Question of Upbringing (A Dance to the Music of Time, #1)
4* A Buyer's Market (A Dance to the Music of Time #2)
4* The Acceptance World (A Dance to the Music of Time, #3)
4* At Lady Molly's (A Dance to the Music of Time, #4)
4* Casanova's Chinese Restaurant (A Dance to the Music of Time, #5)
4* The Kindly Ones (A Dance to the Music of Time, #6)
4* The Valley of Bones (A Dance to the Music of Time, #7)
4* The Soldier's Art (A Dance to the Music of Time, #8)
4* The Military Philosophers (A Dance to the Music of Time, #9)
4* Books Do Furnish a Room (A Dance to the Music of Time, #10)
3* Temporary Kings (A Dance to the Music of Time, #11)
TR Hearing Secret Harmonies (A Dance to the Music of Time, #12)
gengelcox's review against another edition
3.0
The penultimate book in the "Dance to the Music of Time" series. With each book, I find myself reading these faster and faster. Some of this is due to the familiarity with the characters and settings, people and places that I have encountered before and thus do not need to labor at identifying. But it is also due to the 'dating' of the books. Early in the series, beginning as it does shortly after the first World War, I had little in common with the characters and their world. As Powell has progressed through the years, I find myself being able to visualize the people much, much easier.
As in the previous book, Books Do Furnish a Room, Widmerpool continues to embody the Peter Principle in his endless fall upwards, no matter the cruelty that his wife (or Anthony Powell) can bring to bear on him. While I do not find Widmerpool a character with which I can emphathize, I do find myself wincing at his discomfort in much the same way that I can hardly stand to watch sitcoms like "Seinfeld" where people are shown in embarrassing or humiliating situations.
I'm anxious to finish off the series, and make a summary statement about it, even though the first book is lost in the hazy memory of a year ago.
As in the previous book, Books Do Furnish a Room, Widmerpool continues to embody the Peter Principle in his endless fall upwards, no matter the cruelty that his wife (or Anthony Powell) can bring to bear on him. While I do not find Widmerpool a character with which I can emphathize, I do find myself wincing at his discomfort in much the same way that I can hardly stand to watch sitcoms like "Seinfeld" where people are shown in embarrassing or humiliating situations.
I'm anxious to finish off the series, and make a summary statement about it, even though the first book is lost in the hazy memory of a year ago.
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