Nick's Reviews > Pale Fire
Pale Fire
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I loved this, especially as my copy of the book seemed to operate on a meta-meta-meta-meta-level.
The book initially appears to be an unfinished poem, 'Pale Fire', by a dead writer named John Shade, together with a foreword, detailed commentary and index by a friend of his, Charles Kinbote.
But Kinbote is less interested in the poem than he is in discussing the country of 'Zembla' and its flamboyantly gay, deposed King. It's more or less apparent, as the book progresses, that Kinbote is EITHER a) the King of Zembla, b) The insane Professor Botkin (= almost an anagram of Kinbote, see?), who believes that he is the King of Zembla or c) A fictional creation of Shade, who has faked his own death and written the commentary and notes himself in an attempt at a post-modern masterpiece.
So, the reader is left unsure what parts of a fictional work are INTENDED to be fictional in the context of the book (Zembla doesn't 'really' exist, but as the rest of the book is also unreal, does this matter?). And of course, if you want to be all realist about it, the whole thing is written by Nabakov rather than Shade or Kinbote anyway.
But (meta-meta-meta level) my copy of the book has pencil writing in the margin from some student/s, who've provided their own commentary on Kinbote's (=Botkin or Shade's, = Nabakov's) commentary, seemingly without realising the irony.
And (meta-meta-meta-meta level), someone else has stuck a post-it on the last page, saying:
'Dear Phantom Annotator,
Your meta-scribbling has amused me more you could imagine'
I laughed. But now my head hurts.
The book initially appears to be an unfinished poem, 'Pale Fire', by a dead writer named John Shade, together with a foreword, detailed commentary and index by a friend of his, Charles Kinbote.
But Kinbote is less interested in the poem than he is in discussing the country of 'Zembla' and its flamboyantly gay, deposed King. It's more or less apparent, as the book progresses, that Kinbote is EITHER a) the King of Zembla, b) The insane Professor Botkin (= almost an anagram of Kinbote, see?), who believes that he is the King of Zembla or c) A fictional creation of Shade, who has faked his own death and written the commentary and notes himself in an attempt at a post-modern masterpiece.
So, the reader is left unsure what parts of a fictional work are INTENDED to be fictional in the context of the book (Zembla doesn't 'really' exist, but as the rest of the book is also unreal, does this matter?). And of course, if you want to be all realist about it, the whole thing is written by Nabakov rather than Shade or Kinbote anyway.
But (meta-meta-meta level) my copy of the book has pencil writing in the margin from some student/s, who've provided their own commentary on Kinbote's (=Botkin or Shade's, = Nabakov's) commentary, seemingly without realising the irony.
And (meta-meta-meta-meta level), someone else has stuck a post-it on the last page, saying:
'Dear Phantom Annotator,
Your meta-scribbling has amused me more you could imagine'
I laughed. But now my head hurts.
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Quotes Nick Liked

“And he absolutely had to find her at once to tell her that he adored her, but the large audience before him separated him from the door, and the notes reaching him through a succession of hands said that she was not available; that she was inaugurating a fire; that she had married an american businessman; that she had become a character in a novel; that she was dead.”
― Pale Fire
― Pale Fire

“If I correctly understand the sense of this succinct observation, our poet suggests here that human life is but a series of footnotes to a vast obscure unfinished masterpiece.”
― Pale Fire
― Pale Fire

“Speaking of novels,鈥� I said, 鈥榶ou remember we decided once, you, your husband and I, that Proust鈥檚 rough masterpiece was a huge, ghoulish fairy tale, an asparagus dream, totally unconnected with any possible people in any historical France, a sexual travestissement and a colossal farce, the vocabulary of genius and its poetry, but no more, impossibly rude hostesses, please let me speak, and even ruder guests, mechanical Dostoevskian rows and Tolstoian nuances of snobbishness repeated and expanded to an unsufferable length, adorable seascapes, melting avenues, no, do not interrupt me, light and shade effects rivaling those of the greatest English poets, a flora of metaphors, described鈥攂y Cocteau, I think鈥攁s 鈥渁 mirage of suspended gardens,鈥� and, I have not yet finished, an absurd, rubber-and-wire romance between a blond young blackguard (the fictitious Marcel), and an improbable jeune fille who has a pasted-on bosom, Vronski鈥檚 (and Lyovin鈥檚) thick neck, and a cupid鈥檚 buttocks for cheeks; but鈥攁nd now let me finish sweetly鈥攚e were wrong, Sybil, we were wrong in denying our little beau t茅n茅breux the capacity of evoking 鈥渉uman interest鈥�: it is there, it is there鈥攎aybe a rather eighteenth-centuryish, or even seventeenth-centuryish, brand, but it is there. Please, dip or redip, spider, into this book [offering it], you will find a pretty marker in it bought in France, I want John to keep it. Au revoir, Sybil, I must go now. I think my telephone is ringing.”
― Pale Fire
― Pale Fire

“When I hear a critic speaking of an author鈥檚 sincerity I know that either the critic or the author is a fool”
― Pale Fire
― Pale Fire

“It is not easy to describe lucidly in short notes to a poem the various approaches to a fortified castle,”
― Pale Fire
― Pale Fire

“Another tormentor inquired if it was true that I had installed two ping-pong tables in my basement. I asked, was it a crime? No, he said, but why two? "Is that a crime?" I countered, and they all laughed.”
― Pale Fire
― Pale Fire
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Gemma
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rated it 4 stars
Oct 19, 2008 07:45AM

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Engaging: I was laughing and smiling throughout.
I've often wondered about the "conversations" that could take place between, among and within books and their readers.
Pure joy!
Thank you.



It was an excellent review, and that post it amused ME very much :D