Thornton Niven Wilder was an American playwright and novelist. He received three Pulitzer Prizes, one for his novel The Bridge of San Luis Rey and two for his plays Our Town and The Skin of Our Teeth, and a National Book Award for his novel The Eighth Day.
What a refreshing change to read something so vastly different from anything written nowadays! Yes, this book is extremely dated, totally immersed in the language and outlook of the 1920s, but that's much of its charm. And what a delightfully bizarre menagerie of improbable exotic characters Wilder has presented here! So strange and unbelievable are they that I doubt he could have just imagined them, truth being stranger than fiction. They must have really existed, if not individually, then organically, as composites -- the last remaining artifacts left behind following the destruction of empires in The Great War. Apart from their shared connection to a bygone world they each possess some unique attribute that makes them exceptional and intriguing. Wilder draws a parallel between these displaced characters and the demise of the gods of classical antiquity, after they too were swept away by the rise of Christianity. Wilder's wickedly satiric humour skillfully sends up the absurdities and ridiculous conceits of his protagonists, yet he does so in a kind manner, because at heart he loves them for their eccentricity and we share his sorrow at their ultimate demise. Reading this short novel, I was struck by the fact that Wilder himself also represents a bygone era, one where an education in the classics was considered mainstream.
The Cabala by Thornton Wilder is set in Rome in the early 1920鈥檚 and is a story that centers on of a group of 鈥淔ierce intellectual snobs鈥� who are 鈥渧ery rich and influential.鈥� Thornton divided the novel into Five Books. The first is 鈥淔irst Encounters鈥� in which the characters are introduced by James Blair, a young American scholar and friend of the narrator, known only as Samuele. Among the cabalists there is Miss Elizabeth Grier, wealthy American spinster; Her Highness Leda Matilda Colonna Duchessa d鈥橝quilanera (The Black Queen) and her troubled son, Marcantonio; French Princess Alix d鈥橢spoli; fanatically devout Mlle. Astree-Luce de Monfontaine; and the wise Cardinal Vaine, former missionary promoted to the heights of Vatican administration. There is even a cameo appearance, one hundred years out of sync, of poet John Keats. Book Two 鈥淢arcantonio鈥� is a tale of a desperate young man, his sexual confusions and the attempted intervention by his mother. Book Three 鈥淎lix鈥� focuses on the loneliness of the French Princess and her desperate search for escape from isolation. Book Four 鈥淎ustree-Luce and The Cardinal鈥� is a religious sermon/debate about faith and the power of prayer that suddenly changes into a potentially deadly showdown. Book Five 鈥淭he Dusk of the Gods鈥� is a dreamlike visitation in which Elizabeth Grier projects the characters of the cabala into a classical background each portrayed as a pagan god or goddess. The narrator is visited by Virgil, Prince of Poets, who evokes Milton and Shakespeare As one might guess, not much happens in The Cabala. It is a novel of characterization not of plot. It is also a display of exceptionally good writing. Wilder provides the reader with realism accompanied by splash of fantasy. Wilder is a literary stylist who uses precisely detailed descriptions, elaborate similes and a wide array of classical and artistic allusions. The aristocratic members of the Cabala are certainly well-versed in religion, art, music and literature. On every level The Cabala is intellectual, academic and erudite, without being pompous or condescending.
Wilder鈥檚 first novel, the story of a young American writer in Rome in the early 1920s. While the plot is slight, the series of character studies of the set of people he comes to know are masterfully brought to life. At times he鈥檚 a bit heavy-handed with the 鈥渘aive but commonsensical Protestant democratic American in the midst of slightly decadent and occasionally insane upper-class Europeans鈥� story line, but this is still a very enjoyable read.
Ironic and self-ironic, unapologetically literary, urbane and heady. Reads, for the most part, like Woolf or Forster, occasionally reaching wry delights: "When the bourgeoisie discovered that she was accepting invitations there was a tumult as of many waters." This is a book where you get the feeling that the trees, as it were, are more important than the forest. And then, after weaving this glittering verbal spell, the story pounces from behind it and flexes: does things that I not only haven't seen done but still can't imagine being done in serious literature. This is absolutely a hidden gem of American lit. I think you should read it and see what I mean.
It must have been the influence of high school where we were required to read Our Town and The Bridge of San Luis Rey that gave me the idea that familiarity with Wilder was necessary for a liberal education. In any case, I went on to read his Ides of March, and wasn't impressed, and The Cabala, and was even less impressed.
An uneventful and plotless but beautifully written story of a young American who is befriended by a group of well-to-do socialites in 1920's Rome. It was Wilders first book and hinted at the enormous talent that he would demonstrate in his later writings.
A polite New Englander somehow penetrates a top hat society of aristocrats, pale poets and princesses, and Cardinals in Rome, who are really hapless, caught forever in the coils of wealth and privilege, able to escape daily toil, but not vacuity. They are rather ironically known as the Cabala. [*Note: this book has nothing to do with Jewish mysticism. Nothing!] Our narrator describes a series of Cabala members individually and we learn how they are connected.. Having money is tough, you know. You wind up having to keep the hoi polloi away from the gates. But they still might get in. So best bring back kings, divine right, and the Almighty Church. How are you going to do that? Don't let "them" catch wind of it. Well, you might form a secret group of the "best people" (i.e. richest and most conservative) and talk incessantly, so seriously unserious. Whether they have really created such a group is doubtful. The word "cabala" ties them together in our imaginations.
THE CABALA was Wilder's first novel. It shows promise, but it shows. He went on to become a most worthy novelist and playwright. It is full of wryly humorous, ironic portraits of this group or cabal of mostly non-Italian socialites while vaguely admiring of their physical surroundings---the palaces, the villas, the accoutrements. I wouldn't call this the best novel I've ever read, but it is a fairly charming period piece from a time that was already over when it was written.
I re-read Thornton Wilder's first novel, The Cabala, for the Thornton Wilder Society Zoom reading and discussion series (basically a Thornton Wilder book/play club). I first read it 10 years ago, and at that point had only read a couple of Wilder's novels: The Bridge of San Luis Rey and The Eighth Day. It did have some similarities to The Bridge of San Luis Rey but now that I have read all Wilder's novels I realize it compares most to his final novel, Theophilus North. After the narrator meets the members of the Cabala, most of the chapters are him helping out various members with family members or unfortunate situations, which is what also happens in Theophilus North, though in Rhode Island, not Italy. I do like this book, even though it's very much a first novel, but my big issue with it is that it functions like a television pilot. The last chapter is a big twist/reveal, which makes you go, OH MY GOD! I SEE WHAT'S GOING ON HERE! And it makes me want to watch the next episode. But there is no next episode. I won't give anything else away, but if you are a fan of Wilder's more well-known work, The Cabala is a great book to check out and understand his origins.
I was curious what Thorton Wilder's first novel would be like. This before he got famous with The Bridge of San Luis Rey, which I read way back in ninth grade, or his memorable play Our Town, which I read in ninth. Those were two very different books yet they entertained with detail in language and the provoking of philosophical musings. And we see some of that here in this semi-autobiographical portrait of a small group of conservative monarchist types gathered in Rome, representatives of an earlier and clearly disappearing age, seen from the perspective of an impressionable young American expat, clearly based on Wilder himself.
He is a bit full of himself here, and sometimes the urge to show off with purple prose gets the better of him, but at other times, I have to tell you, the language soars, and there are wonderful plays of word choice in details and flourishes of Classical or literary references on point and instructive, the likes of which you won't see in contemporary writing.
don't get me wrong, there are glimmers of Wilder's delicate, heartbreaking sensibilities in these pages especially in the final chapter, but this is one of the most "first novel" novels I've come across. It's completely in a time out of joint. It's a book in love with Henry James's Italian adventures, but also trying to shed its ornamentation. A fumbling, self-conscious love face forward and backward across two centuries not long after the cataclysm of the great war shuttered the 19th century for good. And so the spectator of modernism looms large in this text, to the point where proust and joyce even get name-dropped, but it's reactive and anxious. Flashes of the Pound's "make it new" are here and there, but they're all second-hand. When Thornton brings in the old, he tries to make it seem new, and when he tries to be new, it's already been done.
There's deep feeling here, but not on a sturdy foundation. Thankfully, for Wilder and us, that would come not too long after this.
Picked this up randomly at the used bookstore and loved it. The synopsis on the edition I bought is not even close, but in a good way. Basically, you get a very Great Gatsby feeling narration from an American in Rome in the '20s, dealing with wealthy members of the "Cabala." These are members of powerful families who formerly ruled the region pre-enlightenment. They still think they have the means to place a Holy Roman Catholic Emperor by their influence. But they do not...
Told as three short stories, each focused on one character interaction, it's beautiful and thoughtful prose that flips the idea of powerful secret societies on its head. It's deep and often unintentionally or darkly humorous. Very thought provoking with many religious themes.
Affluenza is defined as the negative psychological or behavioral effects of having or pursuing wealth, per dictionary.com. This story excellently demonstrates that concept, as it explores the lives of a group of individuals whose wealth has insulated them from the world, while convincing them that it's their job to run the world.The exploration of the idea is absorbing, especially given the "contemporary" post-WWI setting, which allows a 21st century reader to see outcomes that the author (and characters) could not.
This book felt like it was 800 pages long. I struggled to pick it up and it left me a bit slumpy. It doesn't really have much of a plot, nor does it have very interesting or engaging characters. The language is good at times but I felt it too over the top for me. The lack of quotation marks was infuriating and it was very difficult to get through. I found no part of this book enjoyable and only finished it because I convinced myself that DNFing a 150 page book was borderline pathetic. Silly, silly me.
Meh. I listened to an audio version, and may not have been as sensitive to style. But there were plot developments that weren't credible, and others that seemed to peter out into nothing. With one exception, I didn't quite get the feeling the members of the Cabala were grand or fascinating characters. The cardinal's story was interesting and a bit more memorable than that of the others.
El choque inicial es poderoso: lo m谩s natural es que el lector llegue a 鈥淟a C谩bala鈥� (editada ahora en nuestro pa铆s por Autom谩tica) esperando un relato misterioso que, a trav茅s de la figura protag贸nica del reci茅n llegado, vaya desvelado poco a poco las luces y las sombras de esta organizaci贸n secreta, tan similiar a los Masones pero en versi贸n europe铆sta. Sorprendentemente, Thornton Wilder aniquila completamente el misterio en las primeras p谩ginas, dejando al descubierto qu茅 es exactamente la C谩bala鈥�: 鈥淟os imagino as铆, 驴has o铆do algo acerca de los cient铆ficos que trabajan en Australia y llegan a regiones donde los animales y las plantas dejaron de evolucionar eras atr谩s? Encuentran un reducto de tiempo arcaico en mitad del mundo que ha avanzado mucho m谩s all谩. Bueno, la C谩bala debe ser algo parecido a esto. Aqu铆 tenemos a un grupo de gente perdiendo el sue帽o por un sinf铆n de ideas que el resto del mundo super贸 hace siglos: la prioridad de una duquesa para cruzar una puerta antes que otra; el orden de ls palabras en un dogma de la Iglesia; la designaci贸n de los reyes por gracia de Dios, especialmente en el caso de los Borbones. Siguen estando profundamente apasionados por cuestiones que el resto de nosotros vemos como elementos m谩s bien propios de anticuarios鈥�.
A la mierda con el misterio y, sobre todo, con la fascinaci贸n del lector: desde un buen principio, Wilder presenta la C谩bala como algo anacr贸nico鈥� Y, aun as铆, es incapaz de extirpar en el lector el deseo primitivo de saber m谩s, de ser seducido de la misma forma en la que el protagonista es seducido por esta 鈥渙rganizaci贸n鈥� (entrecomillada) que le abraza como un miembro m谩s y que empieza a exhibir en su presencia todo un conjunto de miserias que parecen llegadas de otros siglos. La estructura de 鈥淟a C谩bala鈥� va clarific谩ndose poco a poco: Thornton Wilder podr铆a haber optado por bordar un relato de viaje a la forma de E.M. Forster, en la que el protagonista se ve inmerso en una trama narrativa en la que el principal peso recae sobre su condici贸n de turista en una ciudad extranjera (en este caso, una Roma magn谩nima).
Pero la intenci贸n de Wilder nunca es establecer una trama narrativa 煤nica con una presentaci贸n, un nudo y un desenlace: por el contrario, 鈥淟a C谩bala鈥� pronto se estructura de forma capitular, de tal forma que cada cap铆tulo se corresponde a un miembro de la C谩bala y a su cantar de gesta particular. Al principio, el protagonista cae en el epicentro de una extra帽a situaci贸n cuando uno de los pilares de la organizaci贸n, una vieja dama preocupada por la preservaci贸n de una moral anticuada, le pide que aleccione a su hijo para que este deje de comportarse como un Casanova del mont贸n que va saltando de mujer a mujer, de relaci贸n sexual a relaci贸n sexual. Una vez cerrado (dram谩ticamente) este episodio, el protagonista se ver谩 envuelto en una historia de amor no correspondida en la que otra dama, no tan vieja en esta ocasi贸n, ver谩 c贸mo sus propias emociones le desgarran por dentro hasta hacerle perder la raz贸n. Y, finalmente, el 煤ltimo tramo del libro se ve ocupado por la lucha de contrarios entre una beata integrista y un obispo que sabe que para ser virtuoso en la religi贸n antes has de conocer el pecado de primera mano.
La lucha entre sexo y moral, entre amor y raz贸n, entre la fe y sus m煤ltiples claroscuros鈥� 鈥淟a C谩bala鈥� muestra todo un conjunto de luchas de contrarios que se circunscriben perfectamente al entorno greco-romano cl谩sico en el que se desarrolla toda la acci贸n. Y, precisamente cuando el lector haya abandonado cualquier atisbo de fascinaci贸n hacia la C谩bala, cuando haya sucumbido ante la idea de que en esta organizaci贸n hay poco misterio y mucho anquilosamiento intelectual, Thornton Wilder le da un magistral vuelco a su novela en un sublime retru茅cano a modo de conversaci贸n final que fulmina al lector gracias a una elocuencia fant谩stica que te obliga a pensar que, al fin y al cabo, Roma no s贸lo fue hogar de Dioses, sino que estos mismos Dioses siempre fueron una efectiva met谩fora de la misma lucha de contrarios en la que la C谩bala parece inmersa ad infinitum.
A stronger read than I remember. Wilder comes out of the gate strong in terms of talent. The writing remains beautiful and the characters fascinating. However the story is more or less non-existent and the various streams that he pursues are uninteresting.
Wilder's first novel, written at age 26 after he had spent a year at the American school in Rome. A portrait of bored and decadent aristocracy in Rome between the wars. Characters drawn in great detail, but somehow they never came alive for me. The tone of the narrator is irritating--a very young man trying very hard to persuade the reader of his immense erudition by describing all the art and artists he encounters with barely concealed condescension. But then in what amounts to an afterword entitled "The Dusk of the Gods" we are given the suggestion that all the characters we have seen are the worn-out incarnations of ancient Roman deities, and that the narrator himself is the incarnation of Mercury, the founder of language and eloquence, and also the guide of souls to the underworld. Suddenly all that has gone before becomes enlarged. And there is a beautiful evocation of Virgil's poetry in a long description of nightfall on the Mediterranean, as the narrator sails away from Rome on his way back to America.
While I like Wilder's writing style, which to me seems fairly fresh considering how old it is, this story didn't compel me. I did get through it, but it took a while, as every other book I was reading took precedence. I found it hard to care about rich and powerful (okay, maybe only in their own minds) people in Italy who throw parties and histrionic fits in equal measure. This is Wilder before he matured as a writer, rather full of himself, but giving us a peek of the promise that would produce Our Town and Bridge of San Luis Rey. An interesting picture of high society "doing the European Tour" post-WWI, but not as engaging as it could be.