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3.66 AVERAGE
3.66 AVERAGE
Video review here
Humboldt's Gift has some outstanding paragraphs. Here's my favourite:
It's a woman giving advice to Charlie Citrine for finding a wife in later life. Despite the quote's candid brilliance, Charlie continues to fill most of the book with pathetic and dishonest metaphysical monologues that mostly distract him from taking control of his life. He's musing on love while planning affairs.
The women of Charlie Citrine are the only characters that speak any true sense in this utterly dull stroll of a book, and their parts are disappointingly short and scattered. Charlie's thoughts are intellectually complex and there are some nice abstract ideas in the musings but they are so densely written and take up such a sizeable part of the book. It feels like Bellow had a lot of great ideas and needed to make a novel where there was so much space of nothing happening to shove them all into internal monologues.
To date, I've found that Saul Bellow, Richard Ford and Wallace Stegner write well from the perspective of middle-aged men, that sometimes have midlife crises, young kids and marital difficulties. But I think these tropes are already outdated for my generation, as people have kids later and marry less, so I'm getting wary of the use of what I can learn from this. Stegner shows a peaceful fare, Ford a man working uphill, but Bellow's characters always seem floundering, lost and unlikeable. Bellow often writes a main character that is unlikeably weak main character. Charlie Citrine in Humboldt's Gift is difficult to take seriously, his approach to writing and life seem too mismanaged.
I don't want to be able to empathize with the mundanity of a narcissistic, scatter-brained, failing poet. The life of real artists are often fascinating, but Bellow's characters (based on Herzog and Humboldt's Gift) have no clear desire and are entirely the fault of their own ruin. Bellow's characters reject reality and passion — they are dead alive. They are escaping living through abstract daydreams through which they think they are 'finding themselves'. I think I have a distaste for these books as it seems Bellow may be ridiculing self-reflection by taking it an unrealistic extreme with a character who is not self aware. I might be personally biased, being a PhD student, thinking he is adding to the trope of the 'bumbling academic' by presenting a distorted view of academic life.
Humboldt's Gift is the absolutely ideal depiction of a boring academic. But it does it to death over 400 pages, being only useful for someone trying to learn this role for a film. The only thing worse in the world than cruely is idleness, and it is most unbearable to see in well-educated people. I keep coming back to Bellow due to Christopher Hitchen's recommendation, but it's time to throw in the towel and resolve that I just don't get it yet. Maybe when I'm older.
Humboldt's Gift has some outstanding paragraphs. Here's my favourite:
"Communicate to them what you have to have and right away they tell you they've got exactly what you need, although they never even heard of it until just now. It's not even necessarily lying. They just have an instinct that they can supply everything that a man can ask for [...] So you go around looking for a woman like yourself. There ain't no such animal [but she says] 'Your search is ended. Stop here. I'm it.' "
It's a woman giving advice to Charlie Citrine for finding a wife in later life. Despite the quote's candid brilliance, Charlie continues to fill most of the book with pathetic and dishonest metaphysical monologues that mostly distract him from taking control of his life. He's musing on love while planning affairs.
The women of Charlie Citrine are the only characters that speak any true sense in this utterly dull stroll of a book, and their parts are disappointingly short and scattered. Charlie's thoughts are intellectually complex and there are some nice abstract ideas in the musings but they are so densely written and take up such a sizeable part of the book. It feels like Bellow had a lot of great ideas and needed to make a novel where there was so much space of nothing happening to shove them all into internal monologues.
To date, I've found that Saul Bellow, Richard Ford and Wallace Stegner write well from the perspective of middle-aged men, that sometimes have midlife crises, young kids and marital difficulties. But I think these tropes are already outdated for my generation, as people have kids later and marry less, so I'm getting wary of the use of what I can learn from this. Stegner shows a peaceful fare, Ford a man working uphill, but Bellow's characters always seem floundering, lost and unlikeable. Bellow often writes a main character that is unlikeably weak main character. Charlie Citrine in Humboldt's Gift is difficult to take seriously, his approach to writing and life seem too mismanaged.
I don't want to be able to empathize with the mundanity of a narcissistic, scatter-brained, failing poet. The life of real artists are often fascinating, but Bellow's characters (based on Herzog and Humboldt's Gift) have no clear desire and are entirely the fault of their own ruin. Bellow's characters reject reality and passion — they are dead alive. They are escaping living through abstract daydreams through which they think they are 'finding themselves'. I think I have a distaste for these books as it seems Bellow may be ridiculing self-reflection by taking it an unrealistic extreme with a character who is not self aware. I might be personally biased, being a PhD student, thinking he is adding to the trope of the 'bumbling academic' by presenting a distorted view of academic life.
Humboldt's Gift is the absolutely ideal depiction of a boring academic. But it does it to death over 400 pages, being only useful for someone trying to learn this role for a film. The only thing worse in the world than cruely is idleness, and it is most unbearable to see in well-educated people. I keep coming back to Bellow due to Christopher Hitchen's recommendation, but it's time to throw in the towel and resolve that I just don't get it yet. Maybe when I'm older.
challenging
funny
informative
reflective
«Подарок от Гумбольдта» Сола Беллоу — удивительная, талантливая книга, даже скорее не книга, а кусочек яркой, прекрасной жизни на бумаге. Здесь есть всё, буквально. Ответы на мучащие вопросы, советы, наставления, шутки, экстравагантность, любовь и философия. И Пулитцеровская, и последовавшая за ней Нобелевская премии здесь абсолютно по делу.
⠀
Что мне нравится в Соле Беллоу — он разгоняется к концу романа. Манера письма у него такая, что с каждой страницей всё интереснее и интереснее, всё сложнее и запутаннее. А в конце совсем неожиданно. Но не так что концовка ошеломляет, а так, что сама книга целиком ошеломляет, удивляет и оказывается не такой, какой казалась в начале и даже в середине.
⠀
Поначалу «Подарок от Гумбольдта» кажется историей о дружбе двух писателей, что, в принципе не редкость, и, казалось бы, что тут оригинального, чем тут можно удивить? Сквозь годы мы наблюдаем за судьбами и отношениями двух писателей — Чарльза Ситрина и Гумбольдта Флейшера. Беллоу препарирует их дружбу, показывает сложные отношения мужчин как есть, честно, со всеми деталями. После «Подарка от Гумбольдта» становится ясно, что не бывает никакой «женской» или «мужской» дружбы. Есть настоящая дружба и дружба сложная ... и ещё сотни её видов, но вот по признаку пола она точно не делится.
⠀
Когда-то Гумбольдт Флейшер был уникальным, редким поэтом, каких сейчас нет, красавцем и легендой, а Чарли Ситрин — его молодым почитателем. Годы спустя Ситрин гребёт деньги лопатой после успеха своей пьесы на Бродвее, а Гумбольдт — завистливый алкоголик с маниакально-депрессивным психозом, периодически попадающий в лечебницу. Причём фазы мании, во время которых он пишет гениальные стихи, у него всё реже, а фазы депрессии — всё чаще и дольше.
⠀
Но, конечно, не всё так просто ... Пьеса Ситрина посредственна, и он об этом знает, и Гумбольдт знает, и все прочие. Произведения Гумбольдта же по-настоящему талантливы, запредельны и будут жить в веках. Эти двое друг другу и советчики, и помощники, и лучшие друзья, и соперники. Сквозь годы мы видим, во что превращается их дружба.
⠀
Что интересно, Чарльза Ситрина Сол Беллоу явно писал с себя — оба родились в июне, оба писатели, жили в Чикаго, а самое смешное, что, хотя роман «Подарок от Гумбольдта» был опубликован в 1975-м году, Сол Беллоу в 1983-м году тоже получил орден Почётного легиона от президента Франции, который уже был в романе у Ситрина. Словно предсказал …
⠀
Большая часть действия происходит в Чикаго, в сюжет вплетаются покер, шантаж, битые машины, женщины и гангстеры. Один из гангстеров, Ринальдо Кантебиле, стал чуть ли не моим любимым героем! Книга очень кинематографична, я снова не понимаю, куда смотрят киношники и почему никто до сих пор не экранизировал. Кстати, небольшой спойлер, ближе к финалу действительно будет настоящее кино.
А ещё, тут и там абзацы, которые хочется переписать от руки и повесить на стену в рамочку, щепотка философии, рефлексии, рассуждения в духе Сартра, и даже, о боже, Рудольф Штейнер и пассажи о реинкарнации и о бессмертии души. Таков «Подарок от Гумбольдта» Сола Беллоу.
⠀
Эту книгу нельзя читать за неделю (ну ок, можно, но зачем?). Суть в том, что каждый абзац примеряешь на себя, соотносишь со своей жизнью, погружаешься в рефлексию следом за героями, меняешься, что-то осознаёшь. А это, согласитесь, уже не чтение, а работа. Качественная работа требует времени.
⠀
Разумеется, советую.
⠀
Что мне нравится в Соле Беллоу — он разгоняется к концу романа. Манера письма у него такая, что с каждой страницей всё интереснее и интереснее, всё сложнее и запутаннее. А в конце совсем неожиданно. Но не так что концовка ошеломляет, а так, что сама книга целиком ошеломляет, удивляет и оказывается не такой, какой казалась в начале и даже в середине.
⠀
Поначалу «Подарок от Гумбольдта» кажется историей о дружбе двух писателей, что, в принципе не редкость, и, казалось бы, что тут оригинального, чем тут можно удивить? Сквозь годы мы наблюдаем за судьбами и отношениями двух писателей — Чарльза Ситрина и Гумбольдта Флейшера. Беллоу препарирует их дружбу, показывает сложные отношения мужчин как есть, честно, со всеми деталями. После «Подарка от Гумбольдта» становится ясно, что не бывает никакой «женской» или «мужской» дружбы. Есть настоящая дружба и дружба сложная ... и ещё сотни её видов, но вот по признаку пола она точно не делится.
⠀
Когда-то Гумбольдт Флейшер был уникальным, редким поэтом, каких сейчас нет, красавцем и легендой, а Чарли Ситрин — его молодым почитателем. Годы спустя Ситрин гребёт деньги лопатой после успеха своей пьесы на Бродвее, а Гумбольдт — завистливый алкоголик с маниакально-депрессивным психозом, периодически попадающий в лечебницу. Причём фазы мании, во время которых он пишет гениальные стихи, у него всё реже, а фазы депрессии — всё чаще и дольше.
⠀
Но, конечно, не всё так просто ... Пьеса Ситрина посредственна, и он об этом знает, и Гумбольдт знает, и все прочие. Произведения Гумбольдта же по-настоящему талантливы, запредельны и будут жить в веках. Эти двое друг другу и советчики, и помощники, и лучшие друзья, и соперники. Сквозь годы мы видим, во что превращается их дружба.
⠀
Что интересно, Чарльза Ситрина Сол Беллоу явно писал с себя — оба родились в июне, оба писатели, жили в Чикаго, а самое смешное, что, хотя роман «Подарок от Гумбольдта» был опубликован в 1975-м году, Сол Беллоу в 1983-м году тоже получил орден Почётного легиона от президента Франции, который уже был в романе у Ситрина. Словно предсказал …
⠀
Большая часть действия происходит в Чикаго, в сюжет вплетаются покер, шантаж, битые машины, женщины и гангстеры. Один из гангстеров, Ринальдо Кантебиле, стал чуть ли не моим любимым героем! Книга очень кинематографична, я снова не понимаю, куда смотрят киношники и почему никто до сих пор не экранизировал. Кстати, небольшой спойлер, ближе к финалу действительно будет настоящее кино.
А ещё, тут и там абзацы, которые хочется переписать от руки и повесить на стену в рамочку, щепотка философии, рефлексии, рассуждения в духе Сартра, и даже, о боже, Рудольф Штейнер и пассажи о реинкарнации и о бессмертии души. Таков «Подарок от Гумбольдта» Сола Беллоу.
⠀
Эту книгу нельзя читать за неделю (ну ок, можно, но зачем?). Суть в том, что каждый абзац примеряешь на себя, соотносишь со своей жизнью, погружаешься в рефлексию следом за героями, меняешься, что-то осознаёшь. А это, согласитесь, уже не чтение, а работа. Качественная работа требует времени.
⠀
Разумеется, советую.
IT took me a month to read this! But it took me two years and three tries to read Bellow’s The Adventures of Augie March, so that’s progress, right? I think I am a better reader now compared to when I was attempting Augie March. I have more patience to try and understand the author’s intent, even when I am less than enamored with the work itself.
This was a sort of picaresque novel even though the protagonist is pushing 60. I guess I expect a picaresque hero to be young. Published in 1975 this book positively reeked of the Me Decade, the dress, the lingo, the casual sexism, the casual racism, and the interest in esoteric ideas and philosophies.
It took me a while to cop on that this book is meant to be funny. Like Augie March, this is a mix of Chicago nostalgia and deep intellectual thought on a variety of subjects, but maybe most specifically the philosophy of Rudolf Steiner.
About 1/3 of the book is a nutty story about a man who is haunted by the recent death of his onetime mentor, the poet Von Humboldt Fleisher. All Charlie Citrine wants to do is ruminate on life after death and other big questions, but his friends and his enemies won’t let him. Charlie is a Pulitzer-winning writer whose winning streak is on the wane. His ex-wife is suing him, his friends and family exploit him, his girlfriend is trying to marry him, his lawyers and accountants soak him and a small-town hood is trying to shake him down over a gambling debt. It reminded me a bit of Murdoch’s Under the Net it its absurd cast of characters and plot. The remaining 2/3 of the book is Bellow’s deep thoughts as uttered by the beleaguered Charlie.
I wonder if it had ever been optioned as a film? I would cast Julie Newmar as the gold-digging girlfriend Renate and Abe Vigoda as the mortuary tycoon Flonzaley. Zero Mostel would have to have a role somewhere if only because he was in every 1970’s ensemble piece it seem; there are plenty of possibilities for a man of his talents in the novel; it is chock full of outsized characters. For Charlie aka Saul Bellow I had trouble. Michael Douglas would work, but he was too young in 1975. Think Michael Douglas in Wonder Boys. The star making role would go to who ever played brash, obnoxious, scene stealing small-town hood Ronald Cantabile.
This was a sort of picaresque novel even though the protagonist is pushing 60. I guess I expect a picaresque hero to be young. Published in 1975 this book positively reeked of the Me Decade, the dress, the lingo, the casual sexism, the casual racism, and the interest in esoteric ideas and philosophies.
It took me a while to cop on that this book is meant to be funny. Like Augie March, this is a mix of Chicago nostalgia and deep intellectual thought on a variety of subjects, but maybe most specifically the philosophy of Rudolf Steiner.
About 1/3 of the book is a nutty story about a man who is haunted by the recent death of his onetime mentor, the poet Von Humboldt Fleisher. All Charlie Citrine wants to do is ruminate on life after death and other big questions, but his friends and his enemies won’t let him. Charlie is a Pulitzer-winning writer whose winning streak is on the wane. His ex-wife is suing him, his friends and family exploit him, his girlfriend is trying to marry him, his lawyers and accountants soak him and a small-town hood is trying to shake him down over a gambling debt. It reminded me a bit of Murdoch’s Under the Net it its absurd cast of characters and plot. The remaining 2/3 of the book is Bellow’s deep thoughts as uttered by the beleaguered Charlie.
I wonder if it had ever been optioned as a film? I would cast Julie Newmar as the gold-digging girlfriend Renate and Abe Vigoda as the mortuary tycoon Flonzaley. Zero Mostel would have to have a role somewhere if only because he was in every 1970’s ensemble piece it seem; there are plenty of possibilities for a man of his talents in the novel; it is chock full of outsized characters. For Charlie aka Saul Bellow I had trouble. Michael Douglas would work, but he was too young in 1975. Think Michael Douglas in Wonder Boys. The star making role would go to who ever played brash, obnoxious, scene stealing small-town hood Ronald Cantabile.
challenging
dark
emotional
funny
hopeful
inspiring
lighthearted
reflective
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
I'm probably not the target audience and of course, Saul Bellow won a Pulitzer and a Nobel Prize. But I felt like there was a really good story in here, Bellow just needed an editor who cared to extract it.
I was going to start leaving little reviews so I remember more of what I read. but I've got nuffin to say about this.
God damn. As a kid who likes to think of himself as somewhat well-read and cultured, this book is as cathartic and self-assuring as it is horrifying. Maybe more of the latter. I liked the narrative bits probably the most, and could've done without the anthroposophy bits, but that's probably because the nuances went way over my head. Saul Bellow is deserving of his Nobel Prize.
Athygli vert að endurnýja kynni mín af skrifum Bellows. Skrifandi núna einhverjum 4-5 mánuðum eftir að ég kláraði bókina þá er það fyrst og fremst húmorinn sem situr eftir. Sjálfum finnst mér Bellow sjá Citrine sem skoplega persónu. Og Citrine sjálfur er holdgervingur sjálfskoðunar og sjálfsgagnrýni og virðist m.a.s. hafa húmor fyrir eigin sérvísku.
Sumum gagnrýnendum finnst það truflandi hversu fyrirferðamikil bókvíska Bellows er í verkum hans, og segja það oft ekki vera annað en sýndarmennska, sem orsakast af minnimáttarkennd Bellows gagnvart menntun sinni. Mér finnst eins og þessum gagnrýnendur hafi yfirsést hve írónískum augum Bellow í raun lítur þessa kunnáttu. Herzog og Citrine eru sprenglærðir og uppfullir af alls konar merkilegum og ómerkilegum fróðleik en það er einmitt það sem gerir þá að svo skoplegum persónum. Þeir eru meira eða minna vanhæfir þegnar í samfélagi manna. Ófærir um að skilja samtímann og annað fólk.
Ég naut þess að lesa þessa bók. Kímti ósjaldan í mér. Hinn sérkennilegi Weltschmertz sem sjaldan er langt frá yfirborðinu hjá karakterum Bellows ,sem ég tók mjög til mín þegar ég las Herzog, sýndist mér nú vera annar veikleiki karaktersins. Bellow er fúlasta alvara þegar hann skrifar um þessar tilfinningar, en hann veit fullvel að þetta er eitt af því sem gerir Citrine lífið svo óberanlega erfitt. Roth myndi kalla hann tilfinningasaman gyðing, sem er ekki að gera lítið úr Citrine því það er vissulega pláss og ástæða fyrir þessum sterku tilfinningum.
Textinn sem Bellow skrifar er líka mjög fallegar og það er líf í öllu sem hann lýsir. Umhverfi Chicago er persónugert á heillandi máta.
Sumum gagnrýnendum finnst það truflandi hversu fyrirferðamikil bókvíska Bellows er í verkum hans, og segja það oft ekki vera annað en sýndarmennska, sem orsakast af minnimáttarkennd Bellows gagnvart menntun sinni. Mér finnst eins og þessum gagnrýnendur hafi yfirsést hve írónískum augum Bellow í raun lítur þessa kunnáttu. Herzog og Citrine eru sprenglærðir og uppfullir af alls konar merkilegum og ómerkilegum fróðleik en það er einmitt það sem gerir þá að svo skoplegum persónum. Þeir eru meira eða minna vanhæfir þegnar í samfélagi manna. Ófærir um að skilja samtímann og annað fólk.
Ég naut þess að lesa þessa bók. Kímti ósjaldan í mér. Hinn sérkennilegi Weltschmertz sem sjaldan er langt frá yfirborðinu hjá karakterum Bellows ,sem ég tók mjög til mín þegar ég las Herzog, sýndist mér nú vera annar veikleiki karaktersins. Bellow er fúlasta alvara þegar hann skrifar um þessar tilfinningar, en hann veit fullvel að þetta er eitt af því sem gerir Citrine lífið svo óberanlega erfitt. Roth myndi kalla hann tilfinningasaman gyðing, sem er ekki að gera lítið úr Citrine því það er vissulega pláss og ástæða fyrir þessum sterku tilfinningum.
Textinn sem Bellow skrifar er líka mjög fallegar og það er líf í öllu sem hann lýsir. Umhverfi Chicago er persónugert á heillandi máta.
This is a book that manages to be sprawling and contained at the same time. It is the self-narrated story of Charlie Citrine, an aging writer who lives a life where confidence and fear are balanced. Confidence in his lothario sexuality, yet fear he will lose his young lover. Confidence in his passage through life, yet fear he hasn't grasped what life is about.
This story dips through time, telling us about the title character, the poet Von Humboldt Fleisher, as he exists in relation to the author. The gift, which is revealed in the last third of the book, is not really apparent at first, but it eventually rescues Citrine as he gets dragged down in life due to the fact he chooses not to be an active participant in the direction of his own life.
This is not a book to be started lightly - it is huge, it is complex, over-full of description. The narrator manages to ramble quite a bit, and much of the reading feels like wallowing through treacle. But what wonderful treacle! This book is realistic, in that Citrine's mental wanderings are much like internal monologues of any mind. Prepare to surrender your mental life to this book until you have finished it, and probably beyond.
This story dips through time, telling us about the title character, the poet Von Humboldt Fleisher, as he exists in relation to the author. The gift, which is revealed in the last third of the book, is not really apparent at first, but it eventually rescues Citrine as he gets dragged down in life due to the fact he chooses not to be an active participant in the direction of his own life.
This is not a book to be started lightly - it is huge, it is complex, over-full of description. The narrator manages to ramble quite a bit, and much of the reading feels like wallowing through treacle. But what wonderful treacle! This book is realistic, in that Citrine's mental wanderings are much like internal monologues of any mind. Prepare to surrender your mental life to this book until you have finished it, and probably beyond.