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The Names Paperback – July 17, 1989
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"The Names not only accurately reflects a portion of our contemporary world but, more importantly, creates an original world of its own."--Chicago Sun-Times
"DeLillo sifts experience through simultaneous grids of science and poetry, analysis and clear sight, to make a high-wire prose that is voluptuously stark."--Village Voice Literary Supplement
"DeLillo verbally examines every state of consciousness from eroticism to tourism, from the idea of America as conceived by the rest of the world to the idea of the rest of the world as conceived by America, from mysticism to fanaticism."--New York Times
- Print length352 pages
- LanguageEnglish
- PublisherVintage
- Publication dateJuly 17, 1989
- Dimensions5.14 x 0.74 x 8 inches
- ISBN-100679722955
- ISBN-13978-0679722953
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"DeLillo's most accomplished novel." --Time
"Compelling...strange and wonderful and frightening." --The New Yorker
"Exotic, atmospheric, curiously suspenseful, full of characters at once unusual and fully realized...an extraordinarily original and enveloping piece of work." --Los Angeles Times Book Review
From the Inside Flap
"The Names not only accurately reflects a portion of our contemporary world but, more importantly, creates an original world of its own."--"Chicago Sun-Times
"DeLillo sifts experience through simultaneous grids of science and poetry, analysis and clear sight, to make a high-wire prose that is voluptuously stark."--"Village Voice Literary Supplement
"DeLillo verbally examines every state of consciousness from eroticism to tourism, from the idea of America as conceived by the rest of the world to the idea of the rest of the world as conceived by America, from mysticism to fanaticism."--"New York Times
From the Back Cover
About the Author
Product details
- Publisher : Vintage; Reissue edition (July 17, 1989)
- Language : English
- Paperback : 352 pages
- ISBN-10 : 0679722955
- ISBN-13 : 978-0679722953
- Item Weight : 10.2 ounces
- Dimensions : 5.14 x 0.74 x 8 inches
- Best Sellers Rank: #185,544 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)
- #3,940 in Family Life Fiction (Books)
- #12,179 in Literary Fiction (Books)
- #15,033 in Suspense Thrillers
- Customer Reviews:
About the author
Don DeLillo is the author of fifteen novels, including Zero K, Underworld, Falling Man, White Noise, and Libra. He has won the National Book Award, the PEN/Faulkner Award for Fiction, the Jerusalem Prize for his complete body of work, and the William Dean Howells Medal from the American Academy of Arts and Letters. In 2010, he was awarded the PEN/Saul Bellow Prize. The Angel Esmeralda was a finalist for the 2011 Story Prize and the PEN/Faulkner Award for Fiction. In 2012, DeLillo received the Carl Sandburg Literary Award for his body of work.
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Top reviews from the United States
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Developing such a Hollywood-potential story is very rare for a writer who believes that all plots move towards death, but DeLillo seems conflicted about his own creation — as if a Robert Stone novel periodically tries to emerge, but is quickly snuffed out by philosophical asides and character study digressions. At times I felt DeLillo was too aware of the book’s place within postmodern theory and was trying too hard to throw in Wittgenstein concepts about the signified and signifiers into a text the poor, struggling reader was having enough difficulty following. And yet, even in the most confusing parts, where not only all the characters speak alike (true in every DeLillo book, and it’s not a complaint) but they seem to hold similar jobs and have similar preoccupations and are distinguishable only by name (always problematic for me,) the reader is never more than a couple paragraphs away from a passage of astonishing insight or beauty.
It’s no accident that this is one of the most acclaimed books of the past 50 years to have no plot summary in Wikipedia, nor have many brave souls on this site attempted an encapsulation. You may leave the book wondering if the main story was all MacGuffin and the joke’s on us. Or maybe DeLillo’s ambitions outran him, making the development of his style-in-full one book later an admission that a novel of this scope will inevitably elude him. One final possibility — maybe DeLillo is enacting his own ritual murder of plot. Whatever the answer, DeLillo’s writing is self assured in a way his story telling isn’t, making it easy to let go of the plot and let it rise and fall as it may.
I give this book 5 stars for much the same reason I give the Coen brothers’ “Miller’s Crossing” a perfect score — here is the work of a master attempting something great and, uncharacteristically, struggling to stick the landing. Reviews of future DeLillo works will depend on the reader’s expectations about how much DeLillo he should serve us each time — was UNDERWORLD too much? THE SILENCE too little? THE NAMES feels, simultaneously, like far too much and too little, but still so close to outright greatness that maybe it attains it. This is, quite possibly, the best novel by the world’s greatest living writer. It deserves to be read, debated, loved and hated by far more than have done so to date.
"If I were a writer, how I would enjoy being told the novel is dead. How liberating, to work in the margins, outside a central perception. You are the ghoul of literature. Lovely."
Indeed, it is very lovely - if you are a lover of poetry and are fascinated with words and language. If, on the other hand, you're in this for some plot of overtly historical significance, please don't bother yourself with the book. Choose one of DeLillo's more acclaimed, lesser achievements.
There are so many striking passages in the book that one scarcely knows where to start. But, its being necessary to give the prospective reader a taste of the "voluptuously stark" - as one reviewer dubs it - prose, mostly centred in the Greek isles, here is a foretaste:
"I went out to the terrace. It was one of those sandblasted days. The city was achromatic, very dense and still. A woman came out of a building and walked slowly down the street. She was the only person in sight, the only thing moving. In the emptiness and glare there was a mystery about her. Tall, a dark dress, a shoulder bag. Locusts droning. The brightness, the slow afternoon. I stood watching. She stepped off the curbstone without looking back this way. No cars, no sound of cars. Was it the empty street that made her such an erotic figure, the heat and time of day? She drew things toward her. Her shadow gave a depth to things. She was walking in the street and even this was powerful and alluring, an act that had erotic force...That nothing else moved into view, that she walked with a lazy sway, that her dress was the kind of fabric that clings, that her buttocks were hard and tight, that the moment of her passage in the sun went by so slowly, all these things made sexual drama. They weighed on me. They put me in a near trance of longing. That's what she was, hypnotic, walking down the middle of the street. Long slow empty quiet Sundays."
If you're not given to such mesmerising trances of longing, such quiet, lonely moments like this one, when time seems suspended and an erotic or numinous halo seems to surround the person or object that swims into your purview, then, with many reviewers here, you will dismiss the passage and the book as "pretentious" simply because you are unfamiliar with this type of occurrence in your life. But for those of us whose lives are filled with such events, the book is infinitely coruscating and infinitely re-readable.
And yes, there is a plot, of sorts, all to do with the power of words, and the murder of several people based on their names corresponding with the particular place in which they are murdered. The book's overarching theme seems to be the verbal vs. the preverbal: That there are events, times and places in our lives so sacred that words lack the power, in any language, to describe or name, in whatever language, that experience, so that words and names can come to be seen as a profanation, a sullying, a delimiting of the power of the experience.
Enough. If you've bothered to read this far you'll fall in love with the book as I did. So, one last concluding quote:
"We said goodbye at the corner, taking each other's hands in the way people do who want to press gladness into the flesh at the end of an uncertain time. Then I crossed the street and headed west. Silent. The rotor wash. The rippling trees. Dust spinning around them. Their hair and clothes blowing. The frenzy."
Top reviews from other countries
Stuff like why language does what it does. How it is powerful. Both the dialogue and DeLillo's notions of language tell you a few things about it.
The characters are very different than your normal characters--as most DeLillo characters seem to be. They have heavy notions, and have sharp tongues. Their snappy dialogue is so absorbing that you want them to keep talking. There's a rhythm to their speech. And well, there's the prose-poetry precision of DeLillo's language.
This book is not a casual reading, but it's a great book still.