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The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket
Poe found the germ of the story he would develop into ARTHUR GORDON PYM in 1836 in a newspaper account of the shipwreck and subsequent rescue of the two men on board. Published in 1838, this rousing sea adventure follows New England boy, Pym, who stows away on a whaling ship with its captain's son, Augustus. The two boys repeatedly find themselves on the brink of death or discovery and witness many terrifying events, including mutiny, cannibalism, and frantic pursuits. Poe imbued this deliberately popular tale with such allegorical richness, biblical imagery, and psychological insights that the tale has come to influence writers as various as Melville, James, Verne and Nabokov.
For more than seventy years, Penguin has been the leading publisher of classic literature in the English-speaking world. With more than 1,700 titles, Penguin Classics represents a global bookshelf of the best works throughout history and across genres and disciplines. Readers trust the series to provide authoritative texts enhanced by introductions and notes by distinguished scholars and contemporary authors, as well as up-to-date translations by award-winning translators.
For more than seventy years, Penguin has been the leading publisher of classic literature in the English-speaking world. With more than 1,700 titles, Penguin Classics represents a global bookshelf of the best works throughout history and across genres and disciplines. Readers trust the series to provide authoritative texts enhanced by introductions and notes by distinguished scholars and contemporary authors, as well as up-to-date translations by award-winning translators.
288 pages, Paperback
First published July 1, 1838
About the author
Edgar Allan Poe
9,400 books26k followersThe name Poe brings to mind images of murderers and madmen, premature burials, and mysterious women who return from the dead. His works have been in print since 1827 and include such literary classics as The Tell-Tale Heart, The Raven, and The Fall of the House of Usher. This versatile writer’s oeuvre includes short stories, poetry, a novel, a textbook, a book of scientific theory, and hundreds of essays and book reviews. He is widely acknowledged as the inventor of the modern detective story and an innovator in the science fiction genre, but he made his living as America’s first great literary critic and theoretician. Poe’s reputation today rests primarily on his tales of terror as well as on his haunting lyric poetry.
Just as the bizarre characters in Poe’s stories have captured the public imagination so too has Poe himself. He is seen as a morbid, mysterious figure lurking in the shadows of moonlit cemeteries or crumbling castles. This is the Poe of legend. But much of what we know about Poe is wrong, the product of a biography written by one of his enemies in an attempt to defame the author’s name.
The real Poe was born to traveling actors in Boston on January 19, 1809. Edgar was the second of three children. His other brother William Henry Leonard Poe would also become a poet before his early death, and Poe’s sister Rosalie Poe would grow up to teach penmanship at a Richmond girls’ school. Within three years of Poe’s birth both of his parents had died, and he was taken in by the wealthy tobacco merchant John Allan and his wife Frances Valentine Allan in Richmond, Virginia while Poe’s siblings went to live with other families. Mr. Allan would rear Poe to be a businessman and a Virginia gentleman, but Poe had dreams of being a writer in emulation of his childhood hero the British poet Lord Byron. Early poetic verses found written in a young Poe’s handwriting on the backs of Allan’s ledger sheets reveal how little interest Poe had in the tobacco business.
For more information, please see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edgar_al...
Just as the bizarre characters in Poe’s stories have captured the public imagination so too has Poe himself. He is seen as a morbid, mysterious figure lurking in the shadows of moonlit cemeteries or crumbling castles. This is the Poe of legend. But much of what we know about Poe is wrong, the product of a biography written by one of his enemies in an attempt to defame the author’s name.
The real Poe was born to traveling actors in Boston on January 19, 1809. Edgar was the second of three children. His other brother William Henry Leonard Poe would also become a poet before his early death, and Poe’s sister Rosalie Poe would grow up to teach penmanship at a Richmond girls’ school. Within three years of Poe’s birth both of his parents had died, and he was taken in by the wealthy tobacco merchant John Allan and his wife Frances Valentine Allan in Richmond, Virginia while Poe’s siblings went to live with other families. Mr. Allan would rear Poe to be a businessman and a Virginia gentleman, but Poe had dreams of being a writer in emulation of his childhood hero the British poet Lord Byron. Early poetic verses found written in a young Poe’s handwriting on the backs of Allan’s ledger sheets reveal how little interest Poe had in the tobacco business.
For more information, please see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edgar_al...
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January 27, 2011
Dear The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym,
I love you. I hate you. You confuse me because you evoke within me such conflicting emotions. The truth? I really got into a relationship with you because I thought that you would be a straight-up maritime adventure novel a la "Master and Commander." I heard you inspired Herman Melville when he was writing Moby Dick. That's what I was looking for. What I got was... well, what are you, Arthur?
Here's the thing, Gordy: you were always good as an adventure novel. That was your strength and I always liked that about you. I liked your gruesome tales of cannibalism, the ship of dead people, the mutiny, the shark attacks, killing a polar bear with a knife and the sprays of blood, etc. But then, oh God, there were the parts where you devolved into long passages about nautical terminology. For pages and pages you rattled off longitudes and latitudes and the way the sea currents were running. I almost left you then. You were elegant as hell, but I was bored off my ass. "Stick to the action, Arthur," I wanted to say, "If I wanted a travelogue I'd read 'The Voyage of the Beagle.' If I wanted a treatise about the nesting habits of frigate birds I'd pick up a Time-Life book or check out Wikipedia."
I feel like you are trying to be all things to all people, Arthur. I think this has to do with your origins, how you were published episodically in a newspaper and had to appeal a variety of readers. And while I admire your versatility, I think you should just stick to who you really are, deep down: an adventure novel. Or maybe, again, that's just who I wanted you to be and I'm projecting my expectations on you. If you feel smothered by me, that's fine.
And you are a racist son of a bitch, too. All the black guys are either mutineers or knuckle-dragging savages? Come on!
Arthur, I'm sorry it didn't work out. I wanted to love you so bad. I want to compare you other lovers: your lost civilizations reminded me of Borges, your castaways reminded me of Robert Louis Stevenson, you seem at times like you could've been a pulp novel penned in the early twentieth century---all swashbuckle and edge-of-your-seat adventure. But I just can't look past your flaws. And maybe that's my fault. I think our age difference is a chasm between us. You come from different generation. I can't help but judge you by my modern standards of tolerance (and post-Hemingway appreciation for strong, brief sentences) and that's not fair to either of us. I'm sure there's a better reader out there for you, somewhere, Arthur. We had some good times this past week and a half, but I'm glad to move on. I'm eager to start a relationship with another book. Me and Raymond Chandler have been seeing each other lately, and I think I might pursue that a little. I'm eager to start a new chapter in my reading life (sorry for the pun).
Don't take any of this personally. Again: it's not you, Arthur. It's me.
Sincerely,
Richard Porter
P.S. Bad-ass cover, BTW.
I love you. I hate you. You confuse me because you evoke within me such conflicting emotions. The truth? I really got into a relationship with you because I thought that you would be a straight-up maritime adventure novel a la "Master and Commander." I heard you inspired Herman Melville when he was writing Moby Dick. That's what I was looking for. What I got was... well, what are you, Arthur?
Here's the thing, Gordy: you were always good as an adventure novel. That was your strength and I always liked that about you. I liked your gruesome tales of cannibalism, the ship of dead people, the mutiny, the shark attacks, killing a polar bear with a knife and the sprays of blood, etc. But then, oh God, there were the parts where you devolved into long passages about nautical terminology. For pages and pages you rattled off longitudes and latitudes and the way the sea currents were running. I almost left you then. You were elegant as hell, but I was bored off my ass. "Stick to the action, Arthur," I wanted to say, "If I wanted a travelogue I'd read 'The Voyage of the Beagle.' If I wanted a treatise about the nesting habits of frigate birds I'd pick up a Time-Life book or check out Wikipedia."
I feel like you are trying to be all things to all people, Arthur. I think this has to do with your origins, how you were published episodically in a newspaper and had to appeal a variety of readers. And while I admire your versatility, I think you should just stick to who you really are, deep down: an adventure novel. Or maybe, again, that's just who I wanted you to be and I'm projecting my expectations on you. If you feel smothered by me, that's fine.
And you are a racist son of a bitch, too. All the black guys are either mutineers or knuckle-dragging savages? Come on!
Arthur, I'm sorry it didn't work out. I wanted to love you so bad. I want to compare you other lovers: your lost civilizations reminded me of Borges, your castaways reminded me of Robert Louis Stevenson, you seem at times like you could've been a pulp novel penned in the early twentieth century---all swashbuckle and edge-of-your-seat adventure. But I just can't look past your flaws. And maybe that's my fault. I think our age difference is a chasm between us. You come from different generation. I can't help but judge you by my modern standards of tolerance (and post-Hemingway appreciation for strong, brief sentences) and that's not fair to either of us. I'm sure there's a better reader out there for you, somewhere, Arthur. We had some good times this past week and a half, but I'm glad to move on. I'm eager to start a relationship with another book. Me and Raymond Chandler have been seeing each other lately, and I think I might pursue that a little. I'm eager to start a new chapter in my reading life (sorry for the pun).
Don't take any of this personally. Again: it's not you, Arthur. It's me.
Sincerely,
Richard Porter
P.S. Bad-ass cover, BTW.
January 22, 2024
Arthur Pym clandestinely embarks on a whaling ship about to cruise in the southern seas. With the help of his friend Auguste, the captain's son, he hides in the hold. He intends to reveal his presence once the ship has reached the high seas, and it will be too late to turn around. In his hiding place, Arthur Pym falls into a deep sleep. His awakening sounds like the beginning of many misadventures: mutiny, shipwreck, famine, and captivity. It is the beginning of a long journey of horror.
I embarked on this novel with enthusiasm that quickly dissipated. The story of these adventures is cluttered with inopportune digressions: navigation lessons, rules for stowing a ship, and presentations on the nesting of albatrosses. The loaded style gives a false rhythm, which stiffens the narration. The reader finds himself skipping paragraphs to complete a chapter. This book should not be considered a simple adventure story; the narrated events would be so many allegories to decipher. A reading rich in interpretation for lack of escape is recommended to lovers of hermeticism.
I embarked on this novel with enthusiasm that quickly dissipated. The story of these adventures is cluttered with inopportune digressions: navigation lessons, rules for stowing a ship, and presentations on the nesting of albatrosses. The loaded style gives a false rhythm, which stiffens the narration. The reader finds himself skipping paragraphs to complete a chapter. This book should not be considered a simple adventure story; the narrated events would be so many allegories to decipher. A reading rich in interpretation for lack of escape is recommended to lovers of hermeticism.
June 17, 2017
Poe's only novel, The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket is not your average 19th-century adventure tale like those of Jules Verne or Robert Louis Stevenson. Instead, it's a type of tale which acts as a forefather for many tales to come and it's a hell of a weird ride.
The narrative introduces Augustus and our narrator, Arthur Gordon Pym. The first chapter tells a drunken adventure of these two boys. Not sure why that chapter is there, but it's there.
The next couple of chapters tells one of the best sea adventures I've read in a long time! As Augustus and his father decided to set sail for open ocean, Pym decides to join them anonymously with help of his friend.
Well, things went south quickly on that ship.
Filled with scenes of macabre, bloodletting and survival, those initial chapters were beautifully crafted by Poe. I especially loved the scene with the ghost ship. They were daunting and my imagination went wild there!
But then the story changes direction. Instead of sticking with the crazy atmosphere the story created in the initial chapters, Poe switches to an exploration and speculative narrative which reminded me of Jules Verne stories. It seems like Jules Verne was really influenced by this style. Verne was a lifelong fan of Poe and he even wrote a sequel to this novel in later years.
Anyways, we are now chilling with Pym and his gang in a new ship and they decide to explore the unexplored Antarctic region. They find a mysterious Island populated by a tribe of black (Even their teeth are black). The Island itself is a wonder as it is filled with undiscovered flora and fauna.
This part reads like Arthur Conan Doyle's novel, the lost world. The previously undiscovered land with strange natives and bizarre environments? That's Doyle right there.
Now, this is a work that clearly inspired many writers. Even HP Lovecraft connects this story with his own novella, At the Mountains of Madness. But as a novel, the narrative suffers from inconsistent story and styles. To be honest, after the 13th chapter, the story sacrificed its momentum and failed to gain it back. So I'm thinking 5 stars for the first half and 2 stars for the rest.
Also, the ending was ... What was the ending? It felt like one of those weird deaths we hear about in news: The ones where people die abruptly as they were typing a senta
The narrative introduces Augustus and our narrator, Arthur Gordon Pym. The first chapter tells a drunken adventure of these two boys. Not sure why that chapter is there, but it's there.
The next couple of chapters tells one of the best sea adventures I've read in a long time! As Augustus and his father decided to set sail for open ocean, Pym decides to join them anonymously with help of his friend.
Well, things went south quickly on that ship.
Filled with scenes of macabre, bloodletting and survival, those initial chapters were beautifully crafted by Poe. I especially loved the scene with the ghost ship. They were daunting and my imagination went wild there!
But then the story changes direction. Instead of sticking with the crazy atmosphere the story created in the initial chapters, Poe switches to an exploration and speculative narrative which reminded me of Jules Verne stories. It seems like Jules Verne was really influenced by this style. Verne was a lifelong fan of Poe and he even wrote a sequel to this novel in later years.
Anyways, we are now chilling with Pym and his gang in a new ship and they decide to explore the unexplored Antarctic region. They find a mysterious Island populated by a tribe of black (Even their teeth are black). The Island itself is a wonder as it is filled with undiscovered flora and fauna.
This part reads like Arthur Conan Doyle's novel, the lost world. The previously undiscovered land with strange natives and bizarre environments? That's Doyle right there.
Now, this is a work that clearly inspired many writers. Even HP Lovecraft connects this story with his own novella, At the Mountains of Madness. But as a novel, the narrative suffers from inconsistent story and styles. To be honest, after the 13th chapter, the story sacrificed its momentum and failed to gain it back. So I'm thinking 5 stars for the first half and 2 stars for the rest.
Also, the ending was ... What was the ending? It felt like one of those weird deaths we hear about in news: The ones where people die abruptly as they were typing a senta
February 16, 2021
“Son pocas las ocasiones en que el hombre deja de sentir el más profundo interés por la conservación de su vida, y este interés aumenta momentáneamente con la fragilidad del asidero al que se agarra de ella.”
En este libro, su única novela, Edgar Allan Poe intentó volcar absolutamente todos los conocimientos y recursos literarios que utilizaba en sus más afamados cuentos, pero falló. El libro, tal vez por su extensión, no logra mantener el suspense de sus cuentos, más allá de las vicisitudes a las que está sometido el narrador.
El mismo Poe nunca quedó conforme con el resultado final. Será por eso tal vez que siempre se focalizó en escribir cuentos. De todas maneras, el libro suscitó el interés de dos grandes de la literatura: el primero de ellos fue Julio Verne, quien dijo que "alguien debía terminar la historia comenzada por Poe".
Fue justamente él quien intentó continuar la historia de Pym en el libro "La Esfinge de los Hielos". El otro que escribió una historia en homenaje a este libro (porque además consideraba a Poe uno de sus favoritos), fue H. P. Lovecraft en su novela "En las Montañas de la Locura".
Personalmente creo que Poe no le va en zaga a ninguno de los expertos escritores en el área de las novelas que transcurren en el mar, llámense Herman Melville, Robert Louis Stevenson o Joseph Conrad.
Es más, diría que es altamente meritorio el hecho de que Poe haya escrito una novela de estas características más precisamente teniendo en cuenta sus limitados conocimientos marinos.
A veces sucede que un autor cree que algo en su creación no funcionó, pero, por alguna razón, se transforma en el modelo de otros que le suceden y ese es uno de los misterios más maravillosos que nos da la literatura, que es una arte a la que nunca podemos dar como acabada.
En este libro, su única novela, Edgar Allan Poe intentó volcar absolutamente todos los conocimientos y recursos literarios que utilizaba en sus más afamados cuentos, pero falló. El libro, tal vez por su extensión, no logra mantener el suspense de sus cuentos, más allá de las vicisitudes a las que está sometido el narrador.
El mismo Poe nunca quedó conforme con el resultado final. Será por eso tal vez que siempre se focalizó en escribir cuentos. De todas maneras, el libro suscitó el interés de dos grandes de la literatura: el primero de ellos fue Julio Verne, quien dijo que "alguien debía terminar la historia comenzada por Poe".
Fue justamente él quien intentó continuar la historia de Pym en el libro "La Esfinge de los Hielos". El otro que escribió una historia en homenaje a este libro (porque además consideraba a Poe uno de sus favoritos), fue H. P. Lovecraft en su novela "En las Montañas de la Locura".
Personalmente creo que Poe no le va en zaga a ninguno de los expertos escritores en el área de las novelas que transcurren en el mar, llámense Herman Melville, Robert Louis Stevenson o Joseph Conrad.
Es más, diría que es altamente meritorio el hecho de que Poe haya escrito una novela de estas características más precisamente teniendo en cuenta sus limitados conocimientos marinos.
A veces sucede que un autor cree que algo en su creación no funcionó, pero, por alguna razón, se transforma en el modelo de otros que le suceden y ese es uno de los misterios más maravillosos que nos da la literatura, que es una arte a la que nunca podemos dar como acabada.
November 20, 2016
1.5 stars
This is Poe’s only novel; published in 1838. I haven’t read any Poe for many years, having read some of his poetry and his short stories in my teens. This is an odd novel. Arthur Gordon Pym and his friend Augustus are teenagers in search of adventure. Augustus’s father is a sea captain. A voyage is in the offing and Augustus contrives to enable Pym to stow away. A series of adventures ensues; each more farfetched than the previous. There is a bloody mutiny, followed by a shipwreck with Pym and a small number of survivors left on the wreckage of the ship. A long period of floating around leads to cannibalism, an encounter with a ship floating aimlessly with only corpses on board and finally rescue by another ship. This ship is on a fur collecting expedition and it continues to slaughter lots of seals. It sails into the Antarctic regions, which prove to be surprisingly warm. Poe attempts to invent lots of new species of bird and when habitable islands are reached invents a few mammals as well. Inhabited islands are reached populated by “natives” who are primitive but appear friendly. They prove to be unfriendly and most of the crew are killed and the ship destroyed. Pym and three others manage to escape in a canoe and head for the South Pole as the descriptions become increasingly surreal. The ending gives a nod to Reynolds and the hollow earth theories popular at the time.
On the surface this reads like one of many nineteenth century adventure novels by writers such as Haggard, Stevenson and Kipling; comparisons are also drawn with Moby Dick. This being Poe, of course, there is more going on; indeed there is a whole industry of interpretation. There are clearly allegorical and autobiographical elements and there are also elements of cryptography (an interest of Poe’s). Some of the allegorical elements are said to be religious (not convinced by that).
The novel was obviously written in haste and there are lots of continuity errors. Poe is also a bit of a geek about the sea and sailing and there are long descriptive passages about navigation, climate, latitude and longitude, which although well written can be irksome. However it is on lots of best novel lists; Borges rated it and Freud was fascinated by it as he felt it explored man’s unconscious desire for annihilation.
However you analyse and break down this novel (and it is well written with some interesting and experimental aspects), there is an issue which stands out and that is race. Poe was from the South and this was written when slavery and everything that went with it was still in place. Poe’s biographers have pointed out that Poe did not approve of the abolition and believed that black people were inferior.
It is noteworthy that one of the principal mutineers was the black cook who portrayed as a monster with no redeeming features;
“The bound seamen were dragged to the gangway. Here the cook stood with an axe, striking each victim on the head… In this manner twenty-two perished.”
The stereotypes keep coming. The islanders who are amazed at the white skins of their visitors are portrayed as primitive and almost sub-human; they are also treacherous. Poe describes them thus;
“In truth, from every thing I could see of these wretches, they appeared to be the most wicked, hypocritical, vindictive, bloodthirsty, and altogether fiendish race of men upon the face of the globe.”
You could blame the times Poe was writing in, but this isn’t good enough. Poe in his article “The Philosophy of Composition” argues that writing (both poetry and prose) should show truth and meaning. The meaning here is that black is bad and white is the opposite. Toni Morrison has forcibly made this point;
“Africanism is the vehicle by which the American self knows itself as not enslaved, but free; nor repulsive, but desirable. Africanist idiom is used to establish difference or, in a later period, to signal modernity.”
Matt Johnson’s novel Pym is an interesting counterpoint where a good black protagonist encounters white savages in the Antarctic; and the point is made;
“You want to understand Whiteness, as a pathology and a mindset, you have to look to the source of its assumptions. … That’s why Poe’s work mattered. It offered passage on a vessel bound for the primal American subconscious, the foundation on which all our visible systems and structures were built.”
I wanted to like this, but I’m with Toni Morrison on this one.
This is Poe’s only novel; published in 1838. I haven’t read any Poe for many years, having read some of his poetry and his short stories in my teens. This is an odd novel. Arthur Gordon Pym and his friend Augustus are teenagers in search of adventure. Augustus’s father is a sea captain. A voyage is in the offing and Augustus contrives to enable Pym to stow away. A series of adventures ensues; each more farfetched than the previous. There is a bloody mutiny, followed by a shipwreck with Pym and a small number of survivors left on the wreckage of the ship. A long period of floating around leads to cannibalism, an encounter with a ship floating aimlessly with only corpses on board and finally rescue by another ship. This ship is on a fur collecting expedition and it continues to slaughter lots of seals. It sails into the Antarctic regions, which prove to be surprisingly warm. Poe attempts to invent lots of new species of bird and when habitable islands are reached invents a few mammals as well. Inhabited islands are reached populated by “natives” who are primitive but appear friendly. They prove to be unfriendly and most of the crew are killed and the ship destroyed. Pym and three others manage to escape in a canoe and head for the South Pole as the descriptions become increasingly surreal. The ending gives a nod to Reynolds and the hollow earth theories popular at the time.
On the surface this reads like one of many nineteenth century adventure novels by writers such as Haggard, Stevenson and Kipling; comparisons are also drawn with Moby Dick. This being Poe, of course, there is more going on; indeed there is a whole industry of interpretation. There are clearly allegorical and autobiographical elements and there are also elements of cryptography (an interest of Poe’s). Some of the allegorical elements are said to be religious (not convinced by that).
The novel was obviously written in haste and there are lots of continuity errors. Poe is also a bit of a geek about the sea and sailing and there are long descriptive passages about navigation, climate, latitude and longitude, which although well written can be irksome. However it is on lots of best novel lists; Borges rated it and Freud was fascinated by it as he felt it explored man’s unconscious desire for annihilation.
However you analyse and break down this novel (and it is well written with some interesting and experimental aspects), there is an issue which stands out and that is race. Poe was from the South and this was written when slavery and everything that went with it was still in place. Poe’s biographers have pointed out that Poe did not approve of the abolition and believed that black people were inferior.
It is noteworthy that one of the principal mutineers was the black cook who portrayed as a monster with no redeeming features;
“The bound seamen were dragged to the gangway. Here the cook stood with an axe, striking each victim on the head… In this manner twenty-two perished.”
The stereotypes keep coming. The islanders who are amazed at the white skins of their visitors are portrayed as primitive and almost sub-human; they are also treacherous. Poe describes them thus;
“In truth, from every thing I could see of these wretches, they appeared to be the most wicked, hypocritical, vindictive, bloodthirsty, and altogether fiendish race of men upon the face of the globe.”
You could blame the times Poe was writing in, but this isn’t good enough. Poe in his article “The Philosophy of Composition” argues that writing (both poetry and prose) should show truth and meaning. The meaning here is that black is bad and white is the opposite. Toni Morrison has forcibly made this point;
“Africanism is the vehicle by which the American self knows itself as not enslaved, but free; nor repulsive, but desirable. Africanist idiom is used to establish difference or, in a later period, to signal modernity.”
Matt Johnson’s novel Pym is an interesting counterpoint where a good black protagonist encounters white savages in the Antarctic; and the point is made;
“You want to understand Whiteness, as a pathology and a mindset, you have to look to the source of its assumptions. … That’s why Poe’s work mattered. It offered passage on a vessel bound for the primal American subconscious, the foundation on which all our visible systems and structures were built.”
I wanted to like this, but I’m with Toni Morrison on this one.
October 5, 2016
I read this in the German translation by Arno Schmidt in preparation of Schmidt’s Zettel’s Traum, which deals with E.A.Poe.
I already read this book decades ago (in another translation) and liked it quite a bit. This “new” one though was quite another experience–a good one! If you know Arno Schmidt you also know about his rather unusual way of punctuation. In this book he uses it too, especially in the first part. I guess the usage of the equal=sign instead of the hyphen, the & instead of “und” (“and”), and 1 instead of “ein” (“a/an”) may turn some people off ... but not me. I love it. And it’s not overdone either.
Another great thing about Schmidt, for me, is his ingenious way of inventing new words that “just fit”. Things like “Gekerkre” instead of “Kerker” (“dungeon”), or “Labyrümpel” instead of “?” (there is no single equivalent word for it; it’s a combination of “Labyrinth” and “Gerümpel” (“labyrinth” and “lumber”)), or “Perückoid” instead of “Perückenteil” (some part of a wig–just think Donald Trump) made me laugh out lout. And again, he hasn’t overdone it. I suppose it’s due to Schmidt’s reported atheism that he wrote the German word for “God” with two capital letters–“GOtt”–throughout the text. What I haven’t figured out is the reason why some words are spelled differently sometimes. For instance “Silbe” and “Sylbe” (“syllable”), or “Hai” and “Hay” (“shark”). Maybe it’s just a mistake by Schmidt that the editor hasn’t noticed or was too shy to mention.
The result of Arno Schmidt’s efforts led to a whole new book in my opinion. If I hadn’t known in advance I never would have guessed that this is a translation! Of course there are people who complain about this very fact that the translation is too far from the original [see link to a newspaper article below]. So be it. If those people can decide what a good translation is in terms of nearness to the original, then they can obviously read the original. So, why don’t they do it in the first place? For those of you who cannot read Poe in the original I advise you to check out the translation by Arno Schmidt. It’s the next best thing!
Here are some quotes (from the original (source: Project Gutenberg) and the translation):
____________________
from Chapter I
original
“Matter!” he stammered, in the greatest apparent surprise, letting go the tiller at the same moment, and falling forward into the bottom of the boat–“matter!–why, nothing is the–matter–going home–d–d–don’t you see?” The whole truth now flashed upon me. I flew to him and raised him up. He was drunk–beastly drunk–he could no longer either stand, speak, or see.translation
„Los?“, stammelte er, anscheinend in höchstem Erstaunen; wobei er aber im selben Augenblick das Steuer fahren ließ, und nach vornüber, auf den Boden des Bootes, fiel –: „los? – wieso; nix iss doch – los – heim geht’s – m= – m= – merxU das nich?“ Jetzt kam die volle Wahrheit wie ein Blitz über mich. Ich flog hin zu ihm, und richtete ihn auf –: Er war betrunken – viehisch besoffen – er konnte weder länger stehen noch sprechen noch sehen.
from Chapter II
original
Just as we turned the second corner, after passing Mr. Edmund’s well, who should appear, standing right in front of me, and looking me full in the face, but old Mr. Peterson, my grandfather. “Why, bless my soul, Gordon,” said he, after a long pause, “why, why–whose dirty cloak is that you have on?” “Sir!” I replied, assuming, as well as I could, in the exigency of the moment, an air of offended surprise, and talking in the gruffest of all imaginable tones–“sir! you are a sum’mat mistaken–my name, in the first place, bee’nt nothing at all like Goddin, and I’d want you for to know better, you blackguard, than to call my new obercoat a darty one!”translation
Gerade als wir an Mr. Edmunds Brunnen vorbei, und um die zweite Straßenecke danach waren, mußte doch Wer auftauchen, direkt vor mir stehen bleiben & mir mitten ins Gesicht starren –?–: natürlich der alte Mr. Peterson, mein Großvater. „Ja aber – meiner Seel’, Gordon“, sagte er, nach einer langen Pause, „wie, wie – Mensch, wessen dreck’jen Mantel hast den Du da an?!“. „Sir!“ gab ich zurück; nahm, in einem so kritischen Augenblick, nach Kräften die Miene beleidigten Erstaunens an, und sprach auch in den barschesten Tönen, die man sich nur vorstellen kann –: „Sir!, Sie kucken woll ’n büschen queer, was?! Erstens mal hat mein Name nicht die entfernteste Ähnlichkeit mit Goddin; und weiterhin möcht’ ich Ihn’n nur den 1 guten Tip geben, Sie Lump Sie, daß Sie mein’n neuen Überzieher nich nochmal dreckig nenn’n.“
from Chapter III
original
Shall I ever forget my feelings at this moment? He was going–my friend–my companion, from whom I had a right to expect so much–he was going–he would abandon me–he was gone! He would leave me to perish miserably, to expire in the most horrible and loathsome of dungeons–and one word–one little syllable would save me–yet that single syllable I could not utter! I felt, I am sure, more than ten thousand times the agonies of death itself.translation
Ob ich jemals die Empfindungen dieser Augenblicke werde vergessen können?: da ging er – mein Feund – mein Gefährte, von dem ich ein Recht hatte, das Höchste zu erwarten – da ging er – verließ mich – war praktisch schon fort! War drauf & dran, mich dem erbärmlichsten Zugrundegehen zu überlassen, dem Verröcheln im allerekligsten & =schrecklichsten Gekerkre – und ein Wörtlein – ach was, 1 arme Silbe würde mich retten –: und diese 1=einzige Silbe wollte nicht aus mir heraus! Ich habe damals, das weiß ich gewiß, die Schrecken des Todes 10.000 Mal durchlebt.
from Chapter IV
original
His arms, as well as legs, were bowed in the most singular manner, and appeared to possess no flexibility whatever. His head was equally deformed, being of immense size, with an indentation on the crown (like that on the head of most negroes), and entirely bald. To conceal this latter deficiency, which did not proceed from old age, he usually wore a wig formed of any hair-like material which presented itself–occasionally the skin of a Spanish dog or American grizzly bear.translation
Seine Arme, und die Beine nicht minder, waren in der allereigentümlichsten Weise gebogen; und schienen keinerlei Flechsibilität zu besitzen. Gleichermaßen verformt war sein Kopf; von unwahrscheinlicher Größe & mit einer kleinen Dälle auf dem Scheitel (wie sie sich bei den meisten Negerschädeln vorfindet), und dazu völlig kahl. Um letztbesagten Defekt, der nicht etwa von hohem Alter herrührte, zu tarnen, trug er gewöhnlich ein Perückoid, aus dem erst=besten haarähnlichen Material, das just bei der Hand war – vom Fell eines spanischen Wachtelhündchens an, bis notfalls hinauf zum amerikanischen Grizzly.
from Chapter V
original
He pushed on for some time in a most pitiable state of anxiety, until, at length, he found the pathway utterly blocked up, and that there was no possibility of making any farther way by the course in which he had set out. Overcome now by his feelings, he threw himself among the lumber in despair, and wept like a child.translation
So kämpfte er sich, in einem wahrhaft bemitleidenswerten Zustand von Niedergeschlagenheit noch eine Weile fürder; bis er endlich seinen Nicht=Pfad endgültig blockiert fand; und erkennen mußte, daß es auf diesem zur Zeit eingeschlagtenen Wege, keine Möglichkeit eines Weiterkommens mehr gebe. Da warf er sich, übermannt von seinen Gefühlen, voller Verzweifelung mitten ins Labyrümpel hin, und weinte wie ein Kind.
from Chapter VI
original
The stowage on board the Grampus was most clumsily done, if stowage that could be called which was little better than a promiscuous huddling together of oil-casks[1] and ship furniture.translation
[1: Whaling vessels are usually fitted with iron oil-tanks–why the Grampus was not I have never been able to ascertain.]
Die Ladung an Bord der GRAMPUS nun, war aufs ungeschickteste gestaut worden; vorausgesetzt, daß man mit ’Stauen’ bezeichnen will, was in wenig mehr als einem hudligen Über’nanderhäufen von Ölfässern & Schiffsausrüstung bestand.*
[* Walfangschiffe sind für gewöhnlich mit eisernen Öltanks ausgerüstet – wieso das beim GRAMPUS nicht der Fall war, habe ich niemals in Erfahrung bringen können.]
from Chapter XII
original
They are frequently found of an enormous size. I have myself seen several which would weigh from twelve to fifteen hundred pounds, although I do not remember that any navigator speaks of having seen them weighing more than eight hundred. Their appearance is singular, and even disgusting. Their steps are very slow, measured, and heavy, their bodies being carried about a foot from the ground. Their neck is long, and exceedingly slender; from eighteen inches to two feet is a very common length, and I killed one, where the distance from the shoulder to the extremity of the head was no less than three feet ten inches.translation
Man trifft häufig Exemplare von enormer Größe an. Ich habe selbst einige gesehen, die zwischen zwölf= und fünfzehnhundert Pfund gewogen haben müssen; obwohl ich mich nicht erinnern kann, daß Reisende berichtet hätten, je Stücke von über 800 Pfund Gewicht angetroffen zu haben. Ihr Aussehen ist sonderbar, ja, zum Teil widerlich. Die Schritte erfolgen sehr langsam, abgemessen & schwerfällig; wobei der Leib etwa 1 Fuß überm Erdboden getragen wird. Ihr Hals ist lang & dabei äußerst geschlank: 45-60 Zentimeter ist eine ganz normale Länge; und ich habe einmal eine erlegt, wo der Abstand von der Schulter bis zur Schädelspitze nicht weniger als 115 betrug.
from Chapter XIV
original
Besides the penguin many other birds are here to be found, among which may be mentioned seahens, blue peterels, teal, ducks, Port Egmont hens, shags, Cape pigeons, the nelly, seaswallows, terns, seagulls, Mother Carey’s chickens, Mother Carey’s geese, or the great peterel, and, lastly, the albatross.translation
The great peterel is as large as the common albatross, and is carnivorous. It is frequently called the break-bones, or osprey peterel.
Neben dem Pinguin sind noch viele andere Vogelarten hier vertreten, von denen die Lumme erwähnt sei, der blaue Sturmvogel, die Krickente, sowie Enten allgemein, Port=Egmont=Hennen (also Raubmöven), Krähenscharten, Captauben, ›Nellies‹ (oder Riesensturmvögel), See= & Meer=Schwalben, Seemöven, ›Mutter Careys Küchlein‹ (Fulmar), ›Mutter Carey’s Gans‹ oder der Große Sturmvogel, und endlich noch der Albatross. Der Große Peters= oder Sturm=Vogel wird ebenso groß wie der gewöhnliche Albatross, und ist ein überaus reißendes Tier, weshalb er auch häufig als ›Knochenbrecher‹ oder ›Fischadler‹ bezeichnet wird.
====================
Ein=Schub
I discovered an article from the Zeit=Online=Magazin in which the author complains that there were no good translations of E.A.Poe into German. In particular, he, the article=writer, has nothing good to say about Arno Schmidt’s translation of Arthur Gordon Pym. Instead he praises the new (in 2009) translation by Hans Schmid as a gain. To prove his thesis, the following paragraph is quoted:
original
I can hardly tell what possessed me, but the words were no sooner out of his mouth than I felt a thrill of the greatest excitement and pleasure, and thought his mad idea one of the most delightful and most reasonable things in the world. It was blowing almost a gale, and the weather was very cold – it being late in October. I sprang out of bed, nevertheless, in a kind of ecstasy, and told him I was quite as brave as himself, and quite as tired as he was of lying in bed like a dog...translation (by Arno Schmidt)
Ich kann schwerlich klar formulieren, was mich jetzt überkam; aber kaum, daß diese Worte aus seinem Munde waren, verspürte ich einen Schauder aus kitzelndster Erregung & Lüsternheit; und seine Tollmannsidee dünkte mich eine der ergötzlichsten & logischsten Angelegenheiten von der Welt. Der Wind war nahezu böig zu nennen, und das Wetter empfindlich kalt – ging es doch schon gegen Ende Oktober. Nichtsdestoweniger sprang ich aus dem Bett; und informierte ihn, daß ich genauso tapfer sei wie er auch; und gänzlich so überdrüssig, wie er, mich wie ein Hund im Bette zusammenzurollen...translation (by Hans Schmid)
Ich kann kaum sagen, was da in mich gefahren ist, aber die Worte waren kaum über seine Lippen gekommen, da durchfuhr mich bereits ein Gefühl der größten Freude und Erregung, und ich hielt seine verrückte Idee für einen der wunderbarsten und vernünftigsten Vorschläge von der Welt. Draußen tobte schon fast ein Sturm, und das Wetter war sehr kalt – es war Ende Oktober. Trotzdem sprang ich in einer Art Ekstase aus dem Bett und sagte ihm, ich sei genauso mutig wie er, und genau wie er hätte ich genug davon, wie ein Hund im Bett zu liegen...
Granted – AS’s translation is not as close to the original as the one from HS. But – let’s face it – isn’t the one from AS just terrific? ... and way more fun?! If anything should ever be so close to the original; why then – with all due respect – shouldn’t one go directly to the original and read that?
====================
from the last Chapter
original
Many unusual phenomena now indicated that we were entering upon a region of novelty and wonder. A high range of light gray vapour appeared constantly in the southern horizon, flaring up occasionally in lofty streaks, now darting from east to west, now from west to east, and again presenting a level and uniform summit–in short, having all the wild variations of the Aurora Borealis.translation
Manch ungewöhnliches Fänomen deutete nun darauf hin, daß wir im Begriffe stünden, in eine Region der Novitäten & Wunder einzudringen. Ein hohe Bande aus lichtgrauem Gedämpf erschien beständig am südlichen Horizont; flackerte gelegentlich auf, in luft’gen Streifen, die jetzt von Ost nach West, jetzt von Ost nach West schossen; dann zeigte der obere Rand sich wieder eben & einförmig – kurzum, sie hatte all die wild= & wirre Veränderlichkeit der Aurora Borealis.
__________
Update 10/5/16
While reading Arno Schmidt’s Zettels Traum I realize there’s a lot more to Poe’s text than meets the eyes at first glance. Listening to Dän’s (a character from ZT) explanation of Etyms I think it makes sense to add this short piece to the list of translations (from Chapter 25):
original
Many unusual phenomena now—indicated that we were entering upon a region of novelty and wonder.translation
Manch ungewöhnliches Fänomen deutete nun darauf hin, daß wir im Begriff stünden, in eine Region der Novitäten & Wunder einzudringen.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.
October 20, 2017
دوستانِ گرانقدر، این داستان یکی از آثارِ هیجان انگیزِ زنده یاد <ادگار آلن پو> است.... شخصیتِ اصلی داستان جوانی به نامِ <آرتور گوردون پیم> است که اهلِ نانتوکت (شهری در ماساچوست) میباشد.... آرتور، مخفیانه به درونِ کشتیِ شکارِ نهنگ <گرامپوس>، راه میابد و تنها کسی که از این موضوع با خبر میشود، <اگوست> فرزندِ نوجوانِ ناخدایِ کشتی است...... در کشتی شورش به پا میشود و شورشیان عده ای را کشته و عده ای دیگر را سوار بر قایق در اقیانوس رها میکنند، ولی با اگوست، آن پسرکِ نوجوان، کاری ندارند
در این میان اگوست به سمت آرتور رفته تا هر دو چاره ای برای فرار بیابند.. یکی از افسرهایِ کشتی که از شورش، جانِ سالم به در برده است، به آرتور و اگوست پیشنهاد میدهد تا با تیزهوشی و البته فریب، ادارهٔ کشتی و شورشیان را به دست بگیرند.... ولی در همین گیر و دار، کشتی در طوفانِ دریا، اسیر میشود و شورشیان که هیچ مهارتی در دریانوردی ندارند، کاری از دستشان بر نمی آید و همگی غرق میشوند.... از میانِ اهالیِ کشتی، تنها آرتور و افسرِ کشتی، نجات پیدا میکنند....... ناخدا <جان گای> که با کشتی به سمتِ قطب میرود، آنها را پیدا کرده و در بین راه آنها را در "جزیرهٔ تسالا" پیاده میکند.... ساکنینِ عجیب و غریبِ جزیره، با رویِ خوش پذیرایِ آنها میشوند.. ولی پس از مدتی متوجه میشوند که ساکنینِ جزیره موجوداتی وحشی و خطرناک هستند و از همین روی تلاش میکنند تا با قایق از جزیره بگریزند
دوستانِ عزیزم، بهتر است خودتان این داستان را بخوانید و از ماجراهایِ عجیبی که برایِ <آرتور گوردون> پیش می آید، آگاه شوید
------------------------------------------
امیدوارم این ریویو در جهتِ شناختِ این کتاب، مفید بوده باشه
<پیروز باشید و ایرانی>
در این میان اگوست به سمت آرتور رفته تا هر دو چاره ای برای فرار بیابند.. یکی از افسرهایِ کشتی که از شورش، جانِ سالم به در برده است، به آرتور و اگوست پیشنهاد میدهد تا با تیزهوشی و البته فریب، ادارهٔ کشتی و شورشیان را به دست بگیرند.... ولی در همین گیر و دار، کشتی در طوفانِ دریا، اسیر میشود و شورشیان که هیچ مهارتی در دریانوردی ندارند، کاری از دستشان بر نمی آید و همگی غرق میشوند.... از میانِ اهالیِ کشتی، تنها آرتور و افسرِ کشتی، نجات پیدا میکنند....... ناخدا <جان گای> که با کشتی به سمتِ قطب میرود، آنها را پیدا کرده و در بین راه آنها را در "جزیرهٔ تسالا" پیاده میکند.... ساکنینِ عجیب و غریبِ جزیره، با رویِ خوش پذیرایِ آنها میشوند.. ولی پس از مدتی متوجه میشوند که ساکنینِ جزیره موجوداتی وحشی و خطرناک هستند و از همین روی تلاش میکنند تا با قایق از جزیره بگریزند
دوستانِ عزیزم، بهتر است خودتان این داستان را بخوانید و از ماجراهایِ عجیبی که برایِ <آرتور گوردون> پیش می آید، آگاه شوید
------------------------------------------
امیدوارم این ریویو در جهتِ شناختِ این کتاب، مفید بوده باشه
<پیروز باشید و ایرانی>
June 8, 2018
Εξαιρετικό περιπετειώδες ανάγνωσμα, το οποίο ανθίσταται σθεναρά στα "πυρά του χρόνου", προσφέροντας αναγνωστική απόλαυση υψηλού επιπέδου, όντας αντάξιο ενός συγγραφέα-μύθου. Θα μπορούσα να μείνω σε αυτά και να κλείσω εδώ την κριτική μου όσον αφορά το κυρίως έργο, αλλά φευ…
Πώς να μην σχολιάσω αρνητικά τις πολυσέλιδες αναλύσεις επί αναλύσεων, τις "σεντονιάδες", τα σχοινοτενή σχόλια και παραπομπές τόσο του επιμελητή όσο και των κριτικών που καταλαμβάνουν μεγάλο μέρος τής κατά τα λοιπά εξαιρετικής έκδοσης (περί τις 200 σελίδες χοντρικά). Η δε μανία των εκδοτικών να τοποθετούν μια Εισαγωγή στην οποία αναλύεται σχεδόν εξολοκλήρου το έργο, διότι προφανώς ο αναγνώστης ήδη γνωρίζει τι θα διαβάσει ή ,εξίσου πιθανό, διαβάζει για πολλοστή φορά το έργο, παραμένει ακατανόητη και συνάμα εκνευριστική, σ' εμένα τουλάχιστον.
Ομολογώ εξαρχής πως σε μικρότερη ηλικία θα απολάμβανα τους εν λόγω ελιτίστικους μηχανισμούς και τις αναλύσεις που θα προσέδιδαν κύρος στην κεντρική ιστορία. Πλέον, τους θεωρώ περιοριστικούς και ως ένα βαθμό αυτιστικούς. Συγκεκριμένα, πιστεύω πως πρόκειται αφενός για διανοουμενίστικη επιδειξιομανία προκειμένου να εντυπωσιαστούν οι απανταχού συνάδελφοι-κριτικοί, αφετέρου για την ανάγκη των διανοούμενων να επενδύσουν με "Νόημα" (αθάνατε Χάρρυ Κλυνν!) όποιο σημαντικό λογοτεχνικό έργο. Πρόκειται εμφανώς για έναν μηχανισμό απενοχοποίησης, απαραίτητη παράμετρο για τους παροικούντες την "Βαλχάλλα του Πνεύματος". Εν τέλει, εφόσον κάποιος δεν καλείται να συγγράψει μια εργασία ή διατριβή για τον Poe, δεν έχει κανέναν λόγο να αναλώσει πολύτιμο χρόνο.
Τούτου δοθέντος, δεν παραγνωρίζω το γεγονός πως το βιβλίο βρίθει αλληγοριών και πολλαπλών αναγνώσεων, στοιχεία που το καθιστούν ασύγκριτο. Εξίσου σαφής είναι και η ρατσιστική οπτική του Poe και του ήρωά του, κάτι λογικό για τα δεδομένα της εποχής και του τόπου προέλευσης. Προφανώς δεν χρήζει αιτιολόγησης ούτε καυτηριασμού – ουδόλως πρέπει να μας αφορούν οι προθέσεις, ��ι απόψεις και το ποιον του συγγραφέα, παρά μόνο η ποιότητα του έργου του!
Εντούτοις, αναλύσεις -όπως στις περιπτώσεις συνεχούς εγκλεισμού και εξόδου του ήρωα από αμπάρια, υπόγειες στοές κλπ.- τις οποίες ο κριτικός συναρτά με το "πρωκτικό και εντερικό στάδιο" ή ακόμα αναφορές στο Γιουνγκ-ιανό συλλογικό ασυνείδητο και στα κάθε λογής Φροϋδικά αρχέτυπα προκαλούν κατά πρώτον άφθονο γέλωτα και κατά δεύτερον δεν μπορούν παρά να επικριθούν για ψυχολογισμό της πλάκας (μην πω κάτι βαρύτερο!).
Συγκεφαλαιώνοντας, καταλήγω στο ότι ο σχολαστικισμός και ο λογιοτατισμός σκοτώνουν την απόλαυση της αφήγησης. Και η "Αφήγηση του Α.Γ.Π" είναι ένα έργο που απαιτεί τη "δίψα" του αναγνώστη για ποιοτική λογοτεχνία. Τα λοιπά είναι εκ του περισσού.
Πώς να μην σχολιάσω αρνητικά τις πολυσέλιδες αναλύσεις επί αναλύσεων, τις "σεντονιάδες", τα σχοινοτενή σχόλια και παραπομπές τόσο του επιμελητή όσο και των κριτικών που καταλαμβάνουν μεγάλο μέρος τής κατά τα λοιπά εξαιρετικής έκδοσης (περί τις 200 σελίδες χοντρικά). Η δε μανία των εκδοτικών να τοποθετούν μια Εισαγωγή στην οποία αναλύεται σχεδόν εξολοκλήρου το έργο, διότι προφανώς ο αναγνώστης ήδη γνωρίζει τι θα διαβάσει ή ,εξίσου πιθανό, διαβάζει για πολλοστή φορά το έργο, παραμένει ακατανόητη και συνάμα εκνευριστική, σ' εμένα τουλάχιστον.
Ομολογώ εξαρχής πως σε μικρότερη ηλικία θα απολάμβανα τους εν λόγω ελιτίστικους μηχανισμούς και τις αναλύσεις που θα προσέδιδαν κύρος στην κεντρική ιστορία. Πλέον, τους θεωρώ περιοριστικούς και ως ένα βαθμό αυτιστικούς. Συγκεκριμένα, πιστεύω πως πρόκειται αφενός για διανοουμενίστικη επιδειξιομανία προκειμένου να εντυπωσιαστούν οι απανταχού συνάδελφοι-κριτικοί, αφετέρου για την ανάγκη των διανοούμενων να επενδύσουν με "Νόημα" (αθάνατε Χάρρυ Κλυνν!) όποιο σημαντικό λογοτεχνικό έργο. Πρόκειται εμφανώς για έναν μηχανισμό απενοχοποίησης, απαραίτητη παράμετρο για τους παροικούντες την "Βαλχάλλα του Πνεύματος". Εν τέλει, εφόσον κάποιος δεν καλείται να συγγράψει μια εργασία ή διατριβή για τον Poe, δεν έχει κανέναν λόγο να αναλώσει πολύτιμο χρόνο.
Τούτου δοθέντος, δεν παραγνωρίζω το γεγονός πως το βιβλίο βρίθει αλληγοριών και πολλαπλών αναγνώσεων, στοιχεία που το καθιστούν ασύγκριτο. Εξίσου σαφής είναι και η ρατσιστική οπτική του Poe και του ήρωά του, κάτι λογικό για τα δεδομένα της εποχής και του τόπου προέλευσης. Προφανώς δεν χρήζει αιτιολόγησης ούτε καυτηριασμού – ουδόλως πρέπει να μας αφορούν οι προθέσεις, ��ι απόψεις και το ποιον του συγγραφέα, παρά μόνο η ποιότητα του έργου του!
Εντούτοις, αναλύσεις -όπως στις περιπτώσεις συνεχούς εγκλεισμού και εξόδου του ήρωα από αμπάρια, υπόγειες στοές κλπ.- τις οποίες ο κριτικός συναρτά με το "πρωκτικό και εντερικό στάδιο" ή ακόμα αναφορές στο Γιουνγκ-ιανό συλλογικό ασυνείδητο και στα κάθε λογής Φροϋδικά αρχέτυπα προκαλούν κατά πρώτον άφθονο γέλωτα και κατά δεύτερον δεν μπορούν παρά να επικριθούν για ψυχολογισμό της πλάκας (μην πω κάτι βαρύτερο!).
Συγκεφαλαιώνοντας, καταλήγω στο ότι ο σχολαστικισμός και ο λογιοτατισμός σκοτώνουν την απόλαυση της αφήγησης. Και η "Αφήγηση του Α.Γ.Π" είναι ένα έργο που απαιτεί τη "δίψα" του αναγνώστη για ποιοτική λογοτεχνία. Τα λοιπά είναι εκ του περισσού.
September 16, 2016
Shipwrecks! Cannibalism! Wiley natives!
This is a quintessential ripping yarn, a page turner of the most classic kind - a book that inspired Melville and caused Auden to gush. It's Poe's only novel, and perhaps given his master of the short form it's best that he only gave us one to savor. And that ending! I wish I hadn't read the appendix; the end to the main narrative was so shocking and unexpected, so good.
Yes, yes, there are those long passages about rookeries and longitudinal markings, but don't skim those beauties. Poe writes in such precise language; the reader comes away from each sentence with the impression that the brush strokes couldn't be improved.
I'm reading Poe as a prelude to reading Arno Schmidt's "Bottom's Dream" and I'm very happy that it led me to finally reading something I've always meant to get to.
This is a quintessential ripping yarn, a page turner of the most classic kind - a book that inspired Melville and caused Auden to gush. It's Poe's only novel, and perhaps given his master of the short form it's best that he only gave us one to savor. And that ending! I wish I hadn't read the appendix; the end to the main narrative was so shocking and unexpected, so good.
Yes, yes, there are those long passages about rookeries and longitudinal markings, but don't skim those beauties. Poe writes in such precise language; the reader comes away from each sentence with the impression that the brush strokes couldn't be improved.
I'm reading Poe as a prelude to reading Arno Schmidt's "Bottom's Dream" and I'm very happy that it led me to finally reading something I've always meant to get to.
August 11, 2017
Συγκλονιστικός Poe.
Στην ιστορία της λογοτεχνίας λίγοι κατέχουν τόσο καλά την τέχνη της γραφής.
Και δεν είναι μόνο η γραφή, είναι οι τεχνικές που χρησιμοποιεί, η σημειολογία κτλ, τα οποία περιγράφονται πολύ καλύτερα στα παραρτήματα του βιβλίου.
Από τα κλασικά βιβλία που αντιλαμβάνεσαι την σπουδαιότητα αυτών. Έπος!!!
Στην ιστορία της λογοτεχνίας λίγοι κατέχουν τόσο καλά την τέχνη της γραφής.
Και δεν είναι μόνο η γραφή, είναι οι τεχνικές που χρησιμοποιεί, η σημειολογία κτλ, τα οποία περιγράφονται πολύ καλύτερα στα παραρτήματα του βιβλίου.
Από τα κλασικά βιβλία που αντιλαμβάνεσαι την σπουδαιότητα αυτών. Έπος!!!
October 13, 2020
This second go around I did it as audio. I still thought is was similar to a Jules Verne novel.
April 21, 2016
an unusually restrained Edgar Allan Poe strips away his more poetic tendencies as well as his luscious prose in this Narrative, his only novel. the result is an "adventure" that is grim, Grim, GRIM... and so ends up feeling much like Poe after all, despite the shift in style.
a feckless youth decides to follow his heart and his sailor friend by stowing away on a whaling ship. sounds like a recipe for an exciting voyage full of adventure, bromance, mind-opening experiences and perhaps a little Coming of Age, right? WRONG. so very, very wrong. little does he know, our poor lad is living in a novel written by Edgar Allan Poe; he has made a decision to leave all safety and sanity behind and to instead
naturally enough, near starvation & dehydration & a savage attack from a furry friend & mutiny & bloodthirsty slaughter & then even more bloodthirsty slaughter & horrific weather & capsizing & more starvation, more dehydration & cannibalism & the death of all dignity occurs. and then... the adventure is only half over!
coming aboard a new ship, our plucky younghero asshole uses his powers of persuasion and his ability to make a grown man doubt his own manhood, and manages to convince his new captain to continue their voyage to Antarctica despite a distinct lack of fuel and supplies.
guess what? more horrifying things occur. Arthur Gordon Pym is, above all things, a bonafide dumbass.
this was an interesting experience. the past month was a busy time for me, so I pretty much just read this in 20 minute installments. it was maybe the best way to read it. it is a dry book but not an impenetrable one. fairly easy going down, in its own austere way. the horrors occur so regularly that it was rather nice taking a break after each new disaster. and Poe includes many lengthy discussions and explorations of fairly technical topics - things like proper and improper methods of stowage on a whaling ship - that he apparently took verbatim from other texts of the time period. that could have been tedious if I had decided to read this over the course of a few sittings, but spread out over a longer period of time, it actually was pretty interesting. so I knew that each time I cracked open this book, I was sure to get both an atrocity and a bit of education.
a word about the ending: it is just the kind of abrupt and entirely ambiguous ending that pleases me to no end. the sea changing color and turning viscous, the wall of mist, birds fleeing from something, an eerie white figure in the distance... and then full stop. no questions answered. it was like I was reading a sea journey written by Joseph Conrad and then all of a sudden the author remembered he was Edgar Allan Poe.
a feckless youth decides to follow his heart and his sailor friend by stowing away on a whaling ship. sounds like a recipe for an exciting voyage full of adventure, bromance, mind-opening experiences and perhaps a little Coming of Age, right? WRONG. so very, very wrong. little does he know, our poor lad is living in a novel written by Edgar Allan Poe; he has made a decision to leave all safety and sanity behind and to instead
naturally enough, near starvation & dehydration & a savage attack from a furry friend & mutiny & bloodthirsty slaughter & then even more bloodthirsty slaughter & horrific weather & capsizing & more starvation, more dehydration & cannibalism & the death of all dignity occurs. and then... the adventure is only half over!
coming aboard a new ship, our plucky young
guess what? more horrifying things occur. Arthur Gordon Pym is, above all things, a bonafide dumbass.
this was an interesting experience. the past month was a busy time for me, so I pretty much just read this in 20 minute installments. it was maybe the best way to read it. it is a dry book but not an impenetrable one. fairly easy going down, in its own austere way. the horrors occur so regularly that it was rather nice taking a break after each new disaster. and Poe includes many lengthy discussions and explorations of fairly technical topics - things like proper and improper methods of stowage on a whaling ship - that he apparently took verbatim from other texts of the time period. that could have been tedious if I had decided to read this over the course of a few sittings, but spread out over a longer period of time, it actually was pretty interesting. so I knew that each time I cracked open this book, I was sure to get both an atrocity and a bit of education.
a word about the ending: it is just the kind of abrupt and entirely ambiguous ending that pleases me to no end. the sea changing color and turning viscous, the wall of mist, birds fleeing from something, an eerie white figure in the distance... and then full stop. no questions answered. it was like I was reading a sea journey written by Joseph Conrad and then all of a sudden the author remembered he was Edgar Allan Poe.
May 22, 2024
What better book to bring on board the Seaventure on a month-long voyage from Ushuaia at the tip of Patagonia, bound for the Falklands, South Georgia, St. Helena, Tristan da Cunha & finally Cape Verde, the last destination being far from ice & penguins, off the west coast of Senegal in West Africa.
I'd bought the novel long ago at a literary landmark, Poe's only surviving home in Philadelphia, the other houses where he lived having been torn down. I had previously read the book but remembered little of it, except that Edgar Allan Poe had proceeded to detail landscapes including Antarctica that he'd never experienced & about which little was known in the 1838-44 period when he resided at the house in Philadelphia.
Among Poe's more established quotes is the one suggesting that one should..."believe nothing you hear & only half of what you see." To be sure, Poe's only novel is a fanciful tale by a master storyteller whose imagination was as prodigious as his consumption of alcoholic spirits. True to its author, Arthur Gordon Pym embarks on a wild voyage, a "nautical frolic" with a man named Augustus Barnard after a night of heavy drinking.
Pym hails from Nantucket, long the center of whaling, as was Antarctica for 60+ years before the killing of 2 million whales led nearly to the extinction of the species, forcing abandonment of the whaling stations. This is indeed a rather speculative story set long before whaling reached Antarctica & the southern ocean area. It involves a stowaway, pirates, mutineers & an imagined life at sea on a vessel called a "brigantine", a 2-masted schooner that would not have passed a safety inspection.
An interesting aspect is that Poe talks directly to his readers, explaining among other things, "proper stowage" & how grain can expand after being taken on board a ship, potentially causing a nautical catastrophe. There are also storms at sea, multiple fatalities due to weather, gangrene & the opposing forces seeking control of the ship, causing murder & mayhem + a question of cannibalism as well.
There is a chapter on types of penguins (including the King Penguin, called "Royal" in Poe's novel) and other birds (penguins being flightless birds), including the Albatross but not including a Raven, as well as their behavior. He also includes a description of various seals & their compatibility with penguins. The chapter seems extraneous but is much like Melville including a chapter on types of chowder within Moby Dick, both providing a kind of literary ballast. There are inventive intersections between Mr. Pym, Augustus & a dog called "Tiger".
Poe did rather a lot of research in composing his only novel. Here is a sample passage:
Poe copied some details from an earlier narrative by a Captain Morrell, regarding South Georgia, Tristan da Cunha (a rarely visited, sparsely inhabited island in the South Atlantic) & even Cape Verde, all places visited by the small ship, that I embarked on.
With Poe's The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket, the reader has to suspend disbelief as Mr. Pym encounters Polar Bears (imagined by the author but actually residents of the Arctic, not the Antarctic), a muscular group of black natives--including naked women within the tribe & men who are "vindictive, blood-thirsty & altogether fiendish", snakes + other beasts that are nowhere to be seen in these environs, nor anywhere else in some cases.
This is a novel said to exist on 3 levels: the literal, biblical & autobiographical and like so many other books, one I first heard of while reading one of Paul Theroux's travel books in which he inevitably brings on board a train interesting books. Like much of Poe's writing, its appeal is hardly universal but I quite enjoyed rereading The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket.
*Within my review are an image of the author, Edgar Allan Poe; one of an early 19th century sailing ship or "brig"; an image of a colorfully sculpted, floating ice structure I captured on my Nikon in the S. Georgia region and also the image of King Penguins, which I took at Fortuna Bay, South Georgia, Antarctica. **A glossary might have aided the reader with some of the nautical terms.
I'd bought the novel long ago at a literary landmark, Poe's only surviving home in Philadelphia, the other houses where he lived having been torn down. I had previously read the book but remembered little of it, except that Edgar Allan Poe had proceeded to detail landscapes including Antarctica that he'd never experienced & about which little was known in the 1838-44 period when he resided at the house in Philadelphia.
Among Poe's more established quotes is the one suggesting that one should..."believe nothing you hear & only half of what you see." To be sure, Poe's only novel is a fanciful tale by a master storyteller whose imagination was as prodigious as his consumption of alcoholic spirits. True to its author, Arthur Gordon Pym embarks on a wild voyage, a "nautical frolic" with a man named Augustus Barnard after a night of heavy drinking.
Pym hails from Nantucket, long the center of whaling, as was Antarctica for 60+ years before the killing of 2 million whales led nearly to the extinction of the species, forcing abandonment of the whaling stations. This is indeed a rather speculative story set long before whaling reached Antarctica & the southern ocean area. It involves a stowaway, pirates, mutineers & an imagined life at sea on a vessel called a "brigantine", a 2-masted schooner that would not have passed a safety inspection.
An interesting aspect is that Poe talks directly to his readers, explaining among other things, "proper stowage" & how grain can expand after being taken on board a ship, potentially causing a nautical catastrophe. There are also storms at sea, multiple fatalities due to weather, gangrene & the opposing forces seeking control of the ship, causing murder & mayhem + a question of cannibalism as well.
There is a chapter on types of penguins (including the King Penguin, called "Royal" in Poe's novel) and other birds (penguins being flightless birds), including the Albatross but not including a Raven, as well as their behavior. He also includes a description of various seals & their compatibility with penguins. The chapter seems extraneous but is much like Melville including a chapter on types of chowder within Moby Dick, both providing a kind of literary ballast. There are inventive intersections between Mr. Pym, Augustus & a dog called "Tiger".
Poe did rather a lot of research in composing his only novel. Here is a sample passage:
Penguins are very plentiful & the "Royal" (King Penguin) is the largest, so called for it size & beautiful plumage. The head is glossy & most brilliant black, as are its feet. The chief beauty consists of its two broad stripes of gold color, which pass along the head to the breast. The bill is long, either bright scarlet or pink. The birds walk erect, with a stately carriage & carry their heads high, with their wings drooping like two arms and the resemblance to a human figure is very striking.
The Albatross is one of the larges & fiercest of the south sea birds. It is of the gull species & seldom comes to land except when breeding. Between the bird & the penguin the most singular friendship exists.
Poe copied some details from an earlier narrative by a Captain Morrell, regarding South Georgia, Tristan da Cunha (a rarely visited, sparsely inhabited island in the South Atlantic) & even Cape Verde, all places visited by the small ship, that I embarked on.
With Poe's The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket, the reader has to suspend disbelief as Mr. Pym encounters Polar Bears (imagined by the author but actually residents of the Arctic, not the Antarctic), a muscular group of black natives--including naked women within the tribe & men who are "vindictive, blood-thirsty & altogether fiendish", snakes + other beasts that are nowhere to be seen in these environs, nor anywhere else in some cases.
This is a novel said to exist on 3 levels: the literal, biblical & autobiographical and like so many other books, one I first heard of while reading one of Paul Theroux's travel books in which he inevitably brings on board a train interesting books. Like much of Poe's writing, its appeal is hardly universal but I quite enjoyed rereading The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket.
*Within my review are an image of the author, Edgar Allan Poe; one of an early 19th century sailing ship or "brig"; an image of a colorfully sculpted, floating ice structure I captured on my Nikon in the S. Georgia region and also the image of King Penguins, which I took at Fortuna Bay, South Georgia, Antarctica. **A glossary might have aided the reader with some of the nautical terms.
December 19, 2022
The plot had it all: adventure, suspense, fantasy. The tangents that were taken to describe facets of boring ship life were random, unnecessary and took me out of the story. This story could have been half its length or more and would be the better for it.
March 29, 2010
There is something in the reader in me that constantly drives to seek out the unusual and inexplicable. Authors who try to achieve this effect deliberately are always a bore, for the same reason that a man who wears a tophat as an affectation is always infinitely dull compared to the man who wears one unselfconsciously. Iconoclasm may owe its birth to the need for difference, but any iconoclast who fails to find a deeper inspiration is a rudderless rebel.
Difference is not, in itself, interesting or useful. It is only when a natural wellspring of inexplicable inspiration is yoked to an accessible sense of style and form that something remarkable can be set loose upon the world.
Once this unusual child has been encountered, the reader seeks to meet him again and again, often frequenting dark alleys, sarsen rings, harem gardens, and remote starboard tacks, hoping that by patronizing the demesne of strangeness, the denizens of strangeness might be more readily found.
Of course, strangeness has no truly familiar bower, and may crop up in the most mundane of places, and at the most unexpected times, so that after a fruitless week of searching for dark gods in cyclopean atolls, one is finally discovered in your wardrobe. Strangeness must be waited out, arriving and departing in its own ready time.
Poe is often invoked as a font of strangeness, but there is always something of an affectation about him. His poems are particularly guilty, since by reading one after the other, you can find the same rampant breed of domestic strangeness squeezing under the trochees and nibbling at synonyms for 'gloom'. In his poetry, Poe's morbidity is often too refined, too usual, and rarely surprising.
His short stories show some of the same threadbare symptoms, where images, actions, feelings, and plot elements are mulched, composted, and re-sodded as Poe twists back on himself, thumbing through the familiar seeds of his obsessions.
But like Peake and Bierce, Poe is capable of achieving the immaculate prose structure of the failed poet. He is nowhere as consistent as those two amazingly unusual men, but the grove of his imagination is certainly worth a few good strolls.
Though you see evidence of it in his poetry, in his best prose, Poe differentiates himself even from quite impressive writers when he engages in his passion for esoterica. His use of details, facts, and forms taken from life and placed in unusual, unpredictable world lends his worlds a particular kind of credibility.
Like Conrad, it is the real experiences which, as they frame the story, produce a sturdy setting for the gem to be crafted. The horror and strangeness need not be as remarkable when they are contrasted against a vivid world. A real world lends even the smallest odd turn a sort of believability that makes it more frightening than an overstated element of shock set in a less involved world.
Curious about this story is that Poe's real world facts are often more remarkable and surprising than his departures. Perhaps it shouldn't be unexpected, since truth is always stranger than fiction, but it's rare to find an author who is able to present the strangeness of both at once.
Unfortunately, Poe's realism here is often more overstated than subtle, moving in distinct sections. So, we get a short adventure, then a long period of slowly-building psychological horror, then an impersonal summary of nautical miscellanea. Poe might have more equally mixed his different styles instead of making them conspicuous by their separation.
The story takes the general form of the adventure narrative journal, as was so popular among the Sea Stories from which Poe's novella so clearly descends. This allows him leeway to include stories unrelated to the narrative itself, to break off into long digressions about nautical matters, and then, finally, to veer into the sort of unbelievable fish story that balances half-truths and legends into something too strange to believe, but too appealing not to repeat.
These sorts of stories have passed for truth, at one time or another, and been written into our very histories. The works of Marco Polo have no corresponding part in the diligent annals of Chinese history, suggesting he was no more an adventurer than Mandeville before him, and yet both of them were History, at least, for a time.
Poe's story also forms a part of our literary history, paving the way for the mix of horror and science fiction practiced by both Kipling and Lovecraft. Both of their styles profited from Poe's example, sometimes palpably, though their stories were more focused and cohesive.
In this unique story, Poe evokes something of both contemporaries Jules Verne and Herman Melville, though tellingly, Melville's autobiographical tales are sometimes stranger than the force of Poe's imagination, even with a passion for unpredictable strangeness to bolster it.
Poe's attempted novel is enjoyable and formative, but like much of his work, does not stand out above the wealth of unusual fiction of his busy century, and is an unpracticed mess compared to the men who took up the torch after him and refined horror into something much more structured, unsettling, and unusual.
Difference is not, in itself, interesting or useful. It is only when a natural wellspring of inexplicable inspiration is yoked to an accessible sense of style and form that something remarkable can be set loose upon the world.
Once this unusual child has been encountered, the reader seeks to meet him again and again, often frequenting dark alleys, sarsen rings, harem gardens, and remote starboard tacks, hoping that by patronizing the demesne of strangeness, the denizens of strangeness might be more readily found.
Of course, strangeness has no truly familiar bower, and may crop up in the most mundane of places, and at the most unexpected times, so that after a fruitless week of searching for dark gods in cyclopean atolls, one is finally discovered in your wardrobe. Strangeness must be waited out, arriving and departing in its own ready time.
Poe is often invoked as a font of strangeness, but there is always something of an affectation about him. His poems are particularly guilty, since by reading one after the other, you can find the same rampant breed of domestic strangeness squeezing under the trochees and nibbling at synonyms for 'gloom'. In his poetry, Poe's morbidity is often too refined, too usual, and rarely surprising.
His short stories show some of the same threadbare symptoms, where images, actions, feelings, and plot elements are mulched, composted, and re-sodded as Poe twists back on himself, thumbing through the familiar seeds of his obsessions.
But like Peake and Bierce, Poe is capable of achieving the immaculate prose structure of the failed poet. He is nowhere as consistent as those two amazingly unusual men, but the grove of his imagination is certainly worth a few good strolls.
Though you see evidence of it in his poetry, in his best prose, Poe differentiates himself even from quite impressive writers when he engages in his passion for esoterica. His use of details, facts, and forms taken from life and placed in unusual, unpredictable world lends his worlds a particular kind of credibility.
Like Conrad, it is the real experiences which, as they frame the story, produce a sturdy setting for the gem to be crafted. The horror and strangeness need not be as remarkable when they are contrasted against a vivid world. A real world lends even the smallest odd turn a sort of believability that makes it more frightening than an overstated element of shock set in a less involved world.
Curious about this story is that Poe's real world facts are often more remarkable and surprising than his departures. Perhaps it shouldn't be unexpected, since truth is always stranger than fiction, but it's rare to find an author who is able to present the strangeness of both at once.
Unfortunately, Poe's realism here is often more overstated than subtle, moving in distinct sections. So, we get a short adventure, then a long period of slowly-building psychological horror, then an impersonal summary of nautical miscellanea. Poe might have more equally mixed his different styles instead of making them conspicuous by their separation.
The story takes the general form of the adventure narrative journal, as was so popular among the Sea Stories from which Poe's novella so clearly descends. This allows him leeway to include stories unrelated to the narrative itself, to break off into long digressions about nautical matters, and then, finally, to veer into the sort of unbelievable fish story that balances half-truths and legends into something too strange to believe, but too appealing not to repeat.
These sorts of stories have passed for truth, at one time or another, and been written into our very histories. The works of Marco Polo have no corresponding part in the diligent annals of Chinese history, suggesting he was no more an adventurer than Mandeville before him, and yet both of them were History, at least, for a time.
Poe's story also forms a part of our literary history, paving the way for the mix of horror and science fiction practiced by both Kipling and Lovecraft. Both of their styles profited from Poe's example, sometimes palpably, though their stories were more focused and cohesive.
In this unique story, Poe evokes something of both contemporaries Jules Verne and Herman Melville, though tellingly, Melville's autobiographical tales are sometimes stranger than the force of Poe's imagination, even with a passion for unpredictable strangeness to bolster it.
Poe's attempted novel is enjoyable and formative, but like much of his work, does not stand out above the wealth of unusual fiction of his busy century, and is an unpracticed mess compared to the men who took up the torch after him and refined horror into something much more structured, unsettling, and unusual.
July 27, 2020
I've read The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket yesterday (in one sitting) and I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it. I'm certainly glad I picked it up and read it for it proved a fascinating read. Nevertheless, there were quite a few things I didn't like and that confused me about this one and only novel by Edgar Allan Poe.
On overall, I have to admit to feeling a bit conflicted about this novel. Firstly, because it doesn't feel like a novel at all. It feels like a collection of stories or novellas. A collection of stories featuring the same protagonist but not a novel as such. The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym doesn't have that inner connection and flow that a novel has. There is no character development to speak of. When I finished it, I felt like I read maybe four stories or three short novellas.
I'll explain what I mean, but there might be some SPOILERS so considered yourself warned. The first story is when Arthur Gordon Pym decided to become a sailor and boards a ship in secret with the help of his fried August. I would call it a mystery story with elements of horror. The second story would be the mutiny on board that would be adventure with elements of horror. Third story would be the castaway part and that would be pure horror for me. The fourth part would be the sailing and exploring prior to meeting the indigenous people as well as the meeting/adventure part itself. That final part reads more like an adventure with a symbolic ending so a mix of symbolism and adventure. The symbolic ending was well done, I felt and was very true to Poe.
If this book was a collection of novellas with the same protagonist, it would just make more sense because then we wouldn't have to pretend not to notice how disjointed it is. The episodes or the stories aren't interconnected. Even the writing style is different. For example, the graphic episode/story where they are stuck on a boat with no food is written so vividly and the author assures us it is something they will never forget but as soon as that part ends- you guess what? They never talk or think about it. It just doesn't make any sense as a novel. Long story short, Poe wasn't a novelist. He was a poet and writer of short stories and novellas. Do you know what? That doesn't make it any less of a writer. Not everyone has to write novels. Back to my points.
Secondly, even if taken as series of stories (it makes more sense of it to see it that way), this book still seems a bit chaotic. In one instant Poe is writing horror in all its gore details and in the next, he goes all sir David Attenborough on us, devoting page after page to description of animals and nature. Thirdly, there were some expressions that are not comfortable to read nowadays and some parts feel racist from today's perspective. Fourthly, the book is a bit too graphic for my taste. Finally, Tiger (the dog) deserved more space!!! Now, that I'm done with complaints, let's say what I loved about this 'novel'.
Edgar Allan Poe had such a talent. Poe's imaginative force is something that you don't come across often, even in the best of writing- let's put it like that. Poe wrote so imaginably and originally, it is always a pleasure to read. The edition I read was quite old and it said how this novel was ignored by critics until some critic (forgot the name) said it was the predecessor to Moby Dick. Do you know what? It truly is. Here you can see a description of a similar legendary friendship and whale hunting is mentioned. It is crazy to think of how many writers Poe influenced. With his stories, Poe practically invented the detective and horror short story genre. So, if he published a collection of novellas and labelled it a novel, I'm willing to forgive him for it.
Would I recommend this novel? Yes, I definietly would but only for adults. There are many violent and graphic passages in this book (that include cannibalism) that make it non advisable for children and/or overly sensitive adults.
On overall, I have to admit to feeling a bit conflicted about this novel. Firstly, because it doesn't feel like a novel at all. It feels like a collection of stories or novellas. A collection of stories featuring the same protagonist but not a novel as such. The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym doesn't have that inner connection and flow that a novel has. There is no character development to speak of. When I finished it, I felt like I read maybe four stories or three short novellas.
I'll explain what I mean, but there might be some SPOILERS so considered yourself warned. The first story is when Arthur Gordon Pym decided to become a sailor and boards a ship in secret with the help of his fried August. I would call it a mystery story with elements of horror. The second story would be the mutiny on board that would be adventure with elements of horror. Third story would be the castaway part and that would be pure horror for me. The fourth part would be the sailing and exploring prior to meeting the indigenous people as well as the meeting/adventure part itself. That final part reads more like an adventure with a symbolic ending so a mix of symbolism and adventure. The symbolic ending was well done, I felt and was very true to Poe.
If this book was a collection of novellas with the same protagonist, it would just make more sense because then we wouldn't have to pretend not to notice how disjointed it is. The episodes or the stories aren't interconnected. Even the writing style is different. For example, the graphic episode/story where they are stuck on a boat with no food is written so vividly and the author assures us it is something they will never forget but as soon as that part ends- you guess what? They never talk or think about it. It just doesn't make any sense as a novel. Long story short, Poe wasn't a novelist. He was a poet and writer of short stories and novellas. Do you know what? That doesn't make it any less of a writer. Not everyone has to write novels. Back to my points.
Secondly, even if taken as series of stories (it makes more sense of it to see it that way), this book still seems a bit chaotic. In one instant Poe is writing horror in all its gore details and in the next, he goes all sir David Attenborough on us, devoting page after page to description of animals and nature. Thirdly, there were some expressions that are not comfortable to read nowadays and some parts feel racist from today's perspective. Fourthly, the book is a bit too graphic for my taste. Finally, Tiger (the dog) deserved more space!!! Now, that I'm done with complaints, let's say what I loved about this 'novel'.
Edgar Allan Poe had such a talent. Poe's imaginative force is something that you don't come across often, even in the best of writing- let's put it like that. Poe wrote so imaginably and originally, it is always a pleasure to read. The edition I read was quite old and it said how this novel was ignored by critics until some critic (forgot the name) said it was the predecessor to Moby Dick. Do you know what? It truly is. Here you can see a description of a similar legendary friendship and whale hunting is mentioned. It is crazy to think of how many writers Poe influenced. With his stories, Poe practically invented the detective and horror short story genre. So, if he published a collection of novellas and labelled it a novel, I'm willing to forgive him for it.
Would I recommend this novel? Yes, I definietly would but only for adults. There are many violent and graphic passages in this book (that include cannibalism) that make it non advisable for children and/or overly sensitive adults.
January 7, 2020
This is the only novel of Edgar Allan Poe. I really wanted to read it, back in 2013, because knowing Poe’s literary skills for telling interesting stories and keeping the reader engaged, I was eager to see if Poe could manage the same through the course of a whole novel. I must say that the result is rather successful. The book relates the story of a young sailor Arthur Gordon Pym who sails off aboard a whaling ship called the Grampus. From there, Pym undergoes a series of adventures including shipwreck, mutiny, cannibalism and more. As the story unravels, the interest of the reader is constantly renewed through very well crafted descriptions of the various situations, and an excellent portrayal of the hero’s emotions and despair as the dramatic tension builds up at every turn until at the last minute an unexpected event saves the day, only to throw the poor Pym falling into another danger. I read this book on the train to work every day and I must say, on each trip, I was sorry to reach my destination as I was eager to follow on Pym on his adventure.
As Poe juggles with his hero from adventures to mishaps, he keeps the story on a constant thread: the hero is actually always sailing southward and each new unexpected event takes him further in that direction. This is important because the book was written in 1838 at a time when Antarctica was not yet discovered making this land the last frontier of the world. This last continent was first approached by Captain James Cook in 1773. Cook hypothesized that a continent may lie further to the south. An American sealer John Davis might have landed there in 1821 but this was little known at the time. In 1839 and 1840 French and American expeditions reported the presence of a continent south of Latin America but again this land was mostly unchartered. This gave Poe an opportunity for bringing his story into the realm of the extraordinary that he cherished so much. Unfortunately, that last part was a failure in my opinion. For most of the book, Poe excelled in the realist drama that he managed to create but as his hero sails further south, the story becomes increasingly strange and weird with a labyrinth, strange marks, warm water and a huge shrouded white figure. Then the story ends abruptly with a small post-scriptural note where Poe tries to build a sense of mystery around the fate of his hero. I found the ending disappointing. Poe clearly didn’t know where to go with his story. He might have been tempted to offer his vision of what might lie around the South Pole but in the end he was probably lacking any true idea or opinion about what that might be and he decided to leave it as a mystery.
All in all, I would still recommend this book for the very realistic chapters and also because the book later became an inspirational stepping stone to the work of renowned writers such as Herman Melville and Jules Verne. One can see how Melville and Verne were tempted to take Poe’s vision a step further.
As Poe juggles with his hero from adventures to mishaps, he keeps the story on a constant thread: the hero is actually always sailing southward and each new unexpected event takes him further in that direction. This is important because the book was written in 1838 at a time when Antarctica was not yet discovered making this land the last frontier of the world. This last continent was first approached by Captain James Cook in 1773. Cook hypothesized that a continent may lie further to the south. An American sealer John Davis might have landed there in 1821 but this was little known at the time. In 1839 and 1840 French and American expeditions reported the presence of a continent south of Latin America but again this land was mostly unchartered. This gave Poe an opportunity for bringing his story into the realm of the extraordinary that he cherished so much. Unfortunately, that last part was a failure in my opinion. For most of the book, Poe excelled in the realist drama that he managed to create but as his hero sails further south, the story becomes increasingly strange and weird with a labyrinth, strange marks, warm water and a huge shrouded white figure. Then the story ends abruptly with a small post-scriptural note where Poe tries to build a sense of mystery around the fate of his hero. I found the ending disappointing. Poe clearly didn’t know where to go with his story. He might have been tempted to offer his vision of what might lie around the South Pole but in the end he was probably lacking any true idea or opinion about what that might be and he decided to leave it as a mystery.
All in all, I would still recommend this book for the very realistic chapters and also because the book later became an inspirational stepping stone to the work of renowned writers such as Herman Melville and Jules Verne. One can see how Melville and Verne were tempted to take Poe’s vision a step further.
August 8, 2020
4.5
"En pocas ocasiones es posible dejar de sentir el más profundo interés por la conservación de la vida, y este interés aumenta de manera momentánea con la fragilidad del asidero al que se aferran la vida."
"...por lo que he podido saber de aquellos desdichados, pertenecían a la raza humana más malvada, hipócrita, vengativa, sanguinaria y completamente diabólica..."
Una historia impactante, que aborda la desesperación que genera una situación absolutamente inesperada. Lo que debió ser una agradable travesía se convirtió en la más horrible de las pesadillas.
Aquí Arthur Gordon Pym nos relata su historia, desde que se metió a un barco como polizón por recomendación de sus amigo Augustus quien lo tranquilizó diciéndole que después cuando estuvieran lejos de las costas podría salir sin ningún problema. Pero todo resulta nefasto, empiezan a ocurrir muchas cosas que los llevan a ambos a pasar por circunstancias que están al límite de todo.
Un mar que no perdona y con personajes que demuestran su valía una y otra vez.
En esta historia se conocerán diferentes personajes unos más salvajes que otros, haciendo de esta, la única novela de Poe, una lectura fabulosa, con tensión y suspenso constante, escenas escalofriantes y de una crudeza que a ratos no me lo esperaba, con muertes, motines, lugares y habitantes muy excentricos, feroces, como temibles e inquietantes, que son parte de esta aventura marítima de terror.
Siempre había evitado esta lectura, y debo decir que menos mal que lo leí, es muy entretenida esta macabra aventura, con un final que realmente no lo esperaba, me imaginaba otra cosa.
Me gustó, es una muy buena lectura y entretenida, debo decir si que, en ocasiones, sobre todo en la primera mitad, no me gustaron las partes donde se centraba en temas técnicos o datos extensos de la navegación, pero por lo demás me encantó y lo disfruté.
"En pocas ocasiones es posible dejar de sentir el más profundo interés por la conservación de la vida, y este interés aumenta de manera momentánea con la fragilidad del asidero al que se aferran la vida."
"...por lo que he podido saber de aquellos desdichados, pertenecían a la raza humana más malvada, hipócrita, vengativa, sanguinaria y completamente diabólica..."
Una historia impactante, que aborda la desesperación que genera una situación absolutamente inesperada. Lo que debió ser una agradable travesía se convirtió en la más horrible de las pesadillas.
Aquí Arthur Gordon Pym nos relata su historia, desde que se metió a un barco como polizón por recomendación de sus amigo Augustus quien lo tranquilizó diciéndole que después cuando estuvieran lejos de las costas podría salir sin ningún problema. Pero todo resulta nefasto, empiezan a ocurrir muchas cosas que los llevan a ambos a pasar por circunstancias que están al límite de todo.
Un mar que no perdona y con personajes que demuestran su valía una y otra vez.
En esta historia se conocerán diferentes personajes unos más salvajes que otros, haciendo de esta, la única novela de Poe, una lectura fabulosa, con tensión y suspenso constante, escenas escalofriantes y de una crudeza que a ratos no me lo esperaba, con muertes, motines, lugares y habitantes muy excentricos, feroces, como temibles e inquietantes, que son parte de esta aventura marítima de terror.
Siempre había evitado esta lectura, y debo decir que menos mal que lo leí, es muy entretenida esta macabra aventura, con un final que realmente no lo esperaba, me imaginaba otra cosa.
Me gustó, es una muy buena lectura y entretenida, debo decir si que, en ocasiones, sobre todo en la primera mitad, no me gustaron las partes donde se centraba en temas técnicos o datos extensos de la navegación, pero por lo demás me encantó y lo disfruté.
August 5, 2021
گویا کتاب «سرگذشتِ آتور گوردن پیم اهل نانتیکت»، تنها رمانیست که از ادگار آلن پو باقی مانده است؛ این کتاب به قدری عجیب و غریب است که به سختی می توان (یا حداقل من به سختی می توانم) تحلیل منسجمی از آن ارائه داد.
کتاب ابتدا با سرباز زدنهای گوردن پیم از روایتِ ماجراجویی دریاییاش شروع میشود. زیرا به اعتقاد او، کسی ماجراهایی که بر او گذشته بود را باور نخواهد کرد و به شدت بر منطقی نبودنِ آنها تأکید دارد؛ تا اینجای کار، دقیقا منطبق بر آثار همین ژانر پیش میرود (البته احتمالا بقیه آثار این ژانر، تحت تأثیر او بودهاند).
سپس روایت اول شخصِ پیم، با همراه شدنِ وی با یک کشتی صید نهنگ و دست زدن به یک ماجراجویی آغاز میگردد و روایتِ نفسگیر و بشدت جذاب خود را تا نیمههای کتاب پیش میبرد؛ در این روایت، به وضوح رویههایی تاریک و روانشناختی از انسان و طبیعتِ او به تصویر کشیده می شد. از این منظر، میتوان شباهتهایی بین آن و رمان «موبیدیک» پیدا کرد.
از نیمه های کتاب به بعد، ناگهان روایت به گزارشها و سفرنامههای مکتشفان بزرگ مبدل میشود و راوی به وفور به توصیف عوارض طبیعی جزایر، موقعیت جغرافیایی مسیر حرکتشان و تاریخچهی اکتشافات در نیم کرهی جنوبی میپردازد. با خواندنِ این بخش از روایت، میتوان به وضوح متوجه شد که ادبیاتِ مورد علاقه ژول ورن و کتابهایش از کجا پیدایش شده است. همان داستانپردازیها در کنار ارائهی فکتهای علمی و تاریخی.
اما در فصلهای پایانی ما عملا وارد یک داستانِ گوتیک و بسیار اسرارآمیزِ ادگار آلن پویی میشویم؛ و ناگهان داستان تمام میشود و ادگار آلن پو خبر میدهد که گوردن پیم مرده است و برای همین، نتوانسته است فصول پایانی را بنویسد... حرکتی رندانه از آلن پو که گویی نمیدانسته چگونه داستان را تمام کند، شاید. و همین ساختار عجیب، حتی گاهی مرا یاد داستانهای بورخس میانداخت.
پ نوشت 1: سومین کتاب از دسته آمریکاییخوانی در اصفهان
پ نوشت 2: ترجمه کتاب از روی ترجمه فرانسوی بودلر انجام شده است (و من دلیل این کار مترجم را نمی دانم).
کتاب ابتدا با سرباز زدنهای گوردن پیم از روایتِ ماجراجویی دریاییاش شروع میشود. زیرا به اعتقاد او، کسی ماجراهایی که بر او گذشته بود را باور نخواهد کرد و به شدت بر منطقی نبودنِ آنها تأکید دارد؛ تا اینجای کار، دقیقا منطبق بر آثار همین ژانر پیش میرود (البته احتمالا بقیه آثار این ژانر، تحت تأثیر او بودهاند).
سپس روایت اول شخصِ پیم، با همراه شدنِ وی با یک کشتی صید نهنگ و دست زدن به یک ماجراجویی آغاز میگردد و روایتِ نفسگیر و بشدت جذاب خود را تا نیمههای کتاب پیش میبرد؛ در این روایت، به وضوح رویههایی تاریک و روانشناختی از انسان و طبیعتِ او به تصویر کشیده می شد. از این منظر، میتوان شباهتهایی بین آن و رمان «موبیدیک» پیدا کرد.
از نیمه های کتاب به بعد، ناگهان روایت به گزارشها و سفرنامههای مکتشفان بزرگ مبدل میشود و راوی به وفور به توصیف عوارض طبیعی جزایر، موقعیت جغرافیایی مسیر حرکتشان و تاریخچهی اکتشافات در نیم کرهی جنوبی میپردازد. با خواندنِ این بخش از روایت، میتوان به وضوح متوجه شد که ادبیاتِ مورد علاقه ژول ورن و کتابهایش از کجا پیدایش شده است. همان داستانپردازیها در کنار ارائهی فکتهای علمی و تاریخی.
اما در فصلهای پایانی ما عملا وارد یک داستانِ گوتیک و بسیار اسرارآمیزِ ادگار آلن پویی میشویم؛ و ناگهان داستان تمام میشود و ادگار آلن پو خبر میدهد که گوردن پیم مرده است و برای همین، نتوانسته است فصول پایانی را بنویسد... حرکتی رندانه از آلن پو که گویی نمیدانسته چگونه داستان را تمام کند، شاید. و همین ساختار عجیب، حتی گاهی مرا یاد داستانهای بورخس میانداخت.
پ نوشت 1: سومین کتاب از دسته آمریکاییخوانی در اصفهان
پ نوشت 2: ترجمه کتاب از روی ترجمه فرانسوی بودلر انجام شده است (و من دلیل این کار مترجم را نمی دانم).
August 15, 2016
Pym is a great delirious fever nightmare of a novel, barely a novel at all, influencing everything from Moby-Dick to Lovecraft. It shares with Treasure Island an archetypal feel: when Poe describes being lost at sea and debating cannibalism, you think, "So this is where my brain got that image from."
It's fairly insane, as books go. There's Poe's usual fascination with being buried alive, and as thrilling a description of vertigo as I've ever read. He seems to have had no particular structure in mind; he hated the idea of novels and wrote this one for money. He changes gears at will. The dog Tiger appears from nowhere and disappears to nowhere. And then there's that ending.
It's racist as hell. I mean, the evil black cook and jabbering natives would be bad enough on their own but that's just scratching the surface here: the entire book is about black and white, black representing everything uncivilized and evil and amply personified by black people. The book itself is in black and white. Not shades of grey: monochrome. Antichrome. Those jabbering natives, like, when someone's white shirt brushes a guy's face he's like "Oh God no, white stuff!" (Tekeli-li!) The water on their island is dark purple. It reminded me of that line from Third Bass's classic Gas Face:
But speaking of black vs. white, let's talk about this ending here (with no plot spoilers but a feel spoiler), one of the most surprising endings in literature. When I got to it I thought my edition was screwed up somehow - "Where's the rest of it?" It's like someone told Poe how many words are in a novel, and when he got to that many he just dropped the mic. But I like it, honestly. It feels right. Some endings wrap everything up and yet you feel dissatisfied; but some books do what they need to do and then quit, and this is that type.
It's fairly insane, as books go. There's Poe's usual fascination with being buried alive, and as thrilling a description of vertigo as I've ever read. He seems to have had no particular structure in mind; he hated the idea of novels and wrote this one for money. He changes gears at will. The dog Tiger appears from nowhere and disappears to nowhere. And then there's that ending.
It's racist as hell. I mean, the evil black cook and jabbering natives would be bad enough on their own but that's just scratching the surface here: the entire book is about black and white, black representing everything uncivilized and evil and amply personified by black people. The book itself is in black and white. Not shades of grey: monochrome. Antichrome. Those jabbering natives, like, when someone's white shirt brushes a guy's face he's like "Oh God no, white stuff!" (Tekeli-li!) The water on their island is dark purple. It reminded me of that line from Third Bass's classic Gas Face:
Black cat is bad luck, bad guys wear black:Poe was himself badly racist, pro-slavery, so let's not fool ourselves here. But it is also true that Pym as a narrator is an asshole, and the native chief Too-Wit's response to white explorers is entirely reasonable (as Mat Johnson points out in his book Pym) and the only other competent character in the book is Dirk Peters, who's Native American by way of black, and...I don't know, the racism here didn't bother me as much as it might have, somehow. I mean, I'm bumping it down a star because I facepalmed several times, but...Poe himself bothers me. This book doesn't.
Musta been a white guy who started all that.
But speaking of black vs. white, let's talk about this ending here (with no plot spoilers but a feel spoiler), one of the most surprising endings in literature. When I got to it I thought my edition was screwed up somehow - "Where's the rest of it?" It's like someone told Poe how many words are in a novel, and when he got to that many he just dropped the mic. But I like it, honestly. It feels right. Some endings wrap everything up and yet you feel dissatisfied; but some books do what they need to do and then quit, and this is that type.
January 6, 2019
mi ricordo che italo calvino diceva che un cuore semplice di flaubert è un racconto tutto di cose che si vedono, di frasi semplici e leggere in cui avviene sempre qualcosa. potremmo dire che le avventure di gordon pym di Poe sia, in modo speculare, un racconto tutto di cose che non si vedono. anche se non è questa l'impressione iniziale, o non è questa certamente l'impressione che dovremmo cogliere: il raccconto marinaresco, la sfumatura terrifica, la claustrofobica permanenza in sottocoperta, l'ammutinamento, il cannibalismo, l'isola dei selvaggi... tutto rimanda a così forti immagini visive che ci sembra che il racconto sia "tutto" visivo, come quello di flaubert. Ma questo non è vero. più si va avanti con la lettura e più si emerge da questa come da una specie di incubo, di cui conserviamo immagini frammentate, povere di colori e ricche di pathos e orrore. fino all'incubo delle ultime 10-20 pagine finali (il vero capolavoro di edgard allan poe, non bsterebbero 5 stelle per descrivere le emozioni che ho quando leggo quelle pagine): quella specie di sudario che si stende sulla terra, quella cortina fine di nevischio, quell'acqua densa come latte... non è la bianchezza del polo sud, non stiamo vedendo un documentario sulla natura del polo, ma siamo nell'orrore della bianchezza di moby dick, stiamo assistendo al parto distocico di lovecraft, stiamo per vomitare il ramo d'oro di frazer nello studio di Jung... che appassionante quella nota finale! del resto le parole bianco e black in inglese derivano da una stessa parola, dal protogermanico blakaz che sta per "bruciare", "brillare". qualcosa che fa assorbire tutti i colori e come una specie di sefiroth li emana. ogni tanto penso che poe, scrivendo quella scena finale, non faccia riferimento al bianco nell'accezione in cui comunemente lo intendiamo, ma si riferisca alla sua radice etimologica. poe cerca di descrivere "quel bianco", anzi, come la chiama splendidamente Melville, quella "bianchezza", da cui deriva anche il nero, il black... i segni rupestri che gordon pym trova nelle pareti di quell'abisso in cui è precipitato, la loro interpretazione, sono indizi... ci portano non tanto a tenere il conto della trama, di cui non me ne frega un cazzo, ma a saper sviscerare un significato, ci rimandano a una interpretazione del testo talmente affascinante da farci alzare dalla sedia.
ci fanno vedere un dio capovolto, un segreto infranto, la violazione di un codice primitivo.
ci fanno vedere un dio capovolto, un segreto infranto, la violazione di un codice primitivo.
October 26, 2019
Este é a única novela de Edgar Allan Poe , publicada em 1838, famoso por seus contos macabros. Este livro conta a História de Gordon Pym que embarca escondido no porão de um navio Baleeiro chamado Grampus , ajudado por seu amigo Augustus( o livro é narrado em primeira pessoa pelo próprio Gordon) . Lá passará grandes perigos , até que o navio é tomado por corsários e ele descoberto. Depois o navio passa por um naufrágio onde poucos sobrevivem e eles ficam vagando pelo mar em um pequeno barco ,onde precisam comer até carne humana para sobreviverem, até serem salvos pela tripulação do Jane Guy , onde juntamente com Dirk Peters , um marinheiro muito habilidoso , continuam suas aventuras pelos mares do sul onde vão se deparar com novos animais , ursos polares gigantes,, novas paisagens e povos selvagens sanguinários.
A primeira parte do livro tem bastante ação mas a segunda é um tanto monótona devido às descrições minuciosas usando linguagens marítimas, o livro se torna delicioso novamente no final com a chegada a uma terra de selvagens com costumes e comportamentos estranhos.
Uma coisa que pude perceber nesse livro é o tema recorrente do horror de se sentir enterrado vivo, que aparece sempre nos contos de Poe e que nesse livro não poderia faltar. Um livro muito bom, com algumas partes enfadonhas mas que em uma média geral torna se um grande clássico da literatura mundial.
A primeira parte do livro tem bastante ação mas a segunda é um tanto monótona devido às descrições minuciosas usando linguagens marítimas, o livro se torna delicioso novamente no final com a chegada a uma terra de selvagens com costumes e comportamentos estranhos.
Uma coisa que pude perceber nesse livro é o tema recorrente do horror de se sentir enterrado vivo, que aparece sempre nos contos de Poe e que nesse livro não poderia faltar. Um livro muito bom, com algumas partes enfadonhas mas que em uma média geral torna se um grande clássico da literatura mundial.
February 11, 2019
Le avventure di Gordon Pym è un libro dal titolo perfetto visto che meglio di così non può descrivere il contenuto delle sue pagine.
Gordon, alla ricerca di avventura, parte per mare aiutato in gran segreto da un amico, non sapendo che rischierà la morte più e più volte.
La sua storia e i suoi ripetuti naufragi mi hanno ricordato spesso Robinson Crusoe, punti in comune sicuramente ce ne sono, ma è anche vero che la storia ha contorni diversi.
Non sapevo cosa aspettarmi da questo libro essendo il primo che leggo di Edgar Allan Poe, che conosco come scrittore horror e gotico. Le avventure di Gordon Pym sicuramente non rientra nel genere horror nonostante ci sia una scena in particolare che si rifà a questo filone. Direi che le sensazioni provocate più spesso in questa storia da Poe sono l’ansia e l’angoscia.
Questo primo approccio è stato sicuramente positivo; non è complicato seguire la narrazione e anzi, Poe riesce a catturare dopo poche pagine l’attenzione del lettore per mantenerla quasi costante per tutto il tempo. Dico ‘quasi’ perché a mio avviso ci sono dei momenti in cui la curiosità cala, in cui il ritmo narrativo viene frenato, quasi arrestato, perché Poe decide di interrompere il tutto per intrattenere il lettore con un documentario di Super Quark. Approfondisce molto, anche troppo, alcuni aspetti delle imbarcazioni per esempio. Trovo che questo appesantisca il racconto, col rischio di annoiare il lettore. A mio avviso sono appropriati alcuni focus su argomenti come la navigazione o come riempire in modo corretto la stiva affinché la nave non rischi di affondare, per certi versi sono anche interessanti, ma è importante non esagerare, cosa che Poe invece fa.
Un dettaglio comunque da poco conto se si considera che le pagine di documentario saranno in tutto una decina, mentre il libro consta di più di duecento pagine.
Il finale-nonfinale è stato totalmente inaspettato, così inaspettato che avrei gettato il libro in mare (per restare in tema) perché la curiosità è tanta e l’autore utilizza un pretesto narrativo – geniale – che però non soddisfa la voglia del lettore di saperne di più.
Mi sento però di dire che a Edgar Allan Poe questo scherzetto glielo possiamo perdonare, tanto mi è piaciuto Le avventure di Gordon Pym che spero di leggere presto altre opere di questo autore.
Gordon, alla ricerca di avventura, parte per mare aiutato in gran segreto da un amico, non sapendo che rischierà la morte più e più volte.
La sua storia e i suoi ripetuti naufragi mi hanno ricordato spesso Robinson Crusoe, punti in comune sicuramente ce ne sono, ma è anche vero che la storia ha contorni diversi.
Non sapevo cosa aspettarmi da questo libro essendo il primo che leggo di Edgar Allan Poe, che conosco come scrittore horror e gotico. Le avventure di Gordon Pym sicuramente non rientra nel genere horror nonostante ci sia una scena in particolare che si rifà a questo filone. Direi che le sensazioni provocate più spesso in questa storia da Poe sono l’ansia e l’angoscia.
Questo primo approccio è stato sicuramente positivo; non è complicato seguire la narrazione e anzi, Poe riesce a catturare dopo poche pagine l’attenzione del lettore per mantenerla quasi costante per tutto il tempo. Dico ‘quasi’ perché a mio avviso ci sono dei momenti in cui la curiosità cala, in cui il ritmo narrativo viene frenato, quasi arrestato, perché Poe decide di interrompere il tutto per intrattenere il lettore con un documentario di Super Quark. Approfondisce molto, anche troppo, alcuni aspetti delle imbarcazioni per esempio. Trovo che questo appesantisca il racconto, col rischio di annoiare il lettore. A mio avviso sono appropriati alcuni focus su argomenti come la navigazione o come riempire in modo corretto la stiva affinché la nave non rischi di affondare, per certi versi sono anche interessanti, ma è importante non esagerare, cosa che Poe invece fa.
Un dettaglio comunque da poco conto se si considera che le pagine di documentario saranno in tutto una decina, mentre il libro consta di più di duecento pagine.
Il finale-nonfinale è stato totalmente inaspettato, così inaspettato che avrei gettato il libro in mare (per restare in tema) perché la curiosità è tanta e l’autore utilizza un pretesto narrativo – geniale – che però non soddisfa la voglia del lettore di saperne di più.
Mi sento però di dire che a Edgar Allan Poe questo scherzetto glielo possiamo perdonare, tanto mi è piaciuto Le avventure di Gordon Pym che spero di leggere presto altre opere di questo autore.
May 13, 2018
A questo punto avremmo invero dovuto provare un certo allarme, a vedere la piega che prendevano gli eventi, mentre invece non ne avvertivamo neppur l’ombra.
Ultimo GDL della stagione. Riprendo in mano Poe che non leggevo dai primi anni dell’Università, quando cercavo di darmi un tono.
(Pro) Be’, non manca niente di quello che si vorrebbe trovare in un racconto marinaro dell’’800: claustrofobia, ammutinamenti, fame, cannibalismo, squali, esplorazioni. Le parti allucinate e visionarie sono il suo marchio di fabbrica.
Il finale, poi, è una superba catarsi verso l’infinito e oltre.
(Contro) Alcune scene un po' diluite per rendere l'aspetto temporale e la carica ossessiva. Ma soprattutto i termini tecnici, i continui riferimenti spaziali, il resoconto delle varie spedizioni verso Sud. Avrei voluto dirgli “non perderti via, resta sul fatto”. Credo che queste parti siano dovute agli interessi dei lettori dell’epoca, ora mi sembrano solo abbastanza noiose e spezza-ritmo. Inoltre la pubblicazione del romanzo in singole parti su riviste lo ha reso discontinuo e (non positivamente) vario.
Per me se la cava meglio col racconto, e credo lo avesse capito pure lui. [70/100]
Ultimo GDL della stagione. Riprendo in mano Poe che non leggevo dai primi anni dell’Università, quando cercavo di darmi un tono.
(Pro) Be’, non manca niente di quello che si vorrebbe trovare in un racconto marinaro dell’’800: claustrofobia, ammutinamenti, fame, cannibalismo, squali, esplorazioni. Le parti allucinate e visionarie sono il suo marchio di fabbrica.
Il finale, poi, è una superba catarsi verso l’infinito e oltre.
(Contro) Alcune scene un po' diluite per rendere l'aspetto temporale e la carica ossessiva. Ma soprattutto i termini tecnici, i continui riferimenti spaziali, il resoconto delle varie spedizioni verso Sud. Avrei voluto dirgli “non perderti via, resta sul fatto”. Credo che queste parti siano dovute agli interessi dei lettori dell’epoca, ora mi sembrano solo abbastanza noiose e spezza-ritmo. Inoltre la pubblicazione del romanzo in singole parti su riviste lo ha reso discontinuo e (non positivamente) vario.
Per me se la cava meglio col racconto, e credo lo avesse capito pure lui. [70/100]
February 5, 2017
"Lo he grabado dentro de las colinas, y mi venganza,
sobre el polvo dentro de la roca"
Historia terrorífica, macabra, agobiante, angustiosa. El protagonista Arthur pasa una calamidad detrás de otra, sin casi un momento de respiro y te llegas a preguntar como es posible que conserve la cordura. La escena que más me ha impactado ha sido la del Sencillamente espeluznante…
En la parte central del libro hay un cambio de ritmo total y la historia se puede hacer un poco pesada con tanta descripción de pingüinos, de islotes y de latitudes marinas, pero supongo que eso te da un poco de respiro ya que tanto la primera parte como la parte final son un sin parar de desgracias.
Tiene un final abrupto y misterioso, que deja muchos enigmas por esclarecer.
Me he leído la versión ilustrada por Luis Scafati y traducción de Julio Cortázar de la editorial El Zorro Rojo. Las ilustraciones son también bastante tétricas con lo que acompañan bastante bien a la historia.
sobre el polvo dentro de la roca"
Historia terrorífica, macabra, agobiante, angustiosa. El protagonista Arthur pasa una calamidad detrás de otra, sin casi un momento de respiro y te llegas a preguntar como es posible que conserve la cordura. La escena que más me ha impactado ha sido la del Sencillamente espeluznante…
En la parte central del libro hay un cambio de ritmo total y la historia se puede hacer un poco pesada con tanta descripción de pingüinos, de islotes y de latitudes marinas, pero supongo que eso te da un poco de respiro ya que tanto la primera parte como la parte final son un sin parar de desgracias.
Tiene un final abrupto y misterioso, que deja muchos enigmas por esclarecer.
Me he leído la versión ilustrada por Luis Scafati y traducción de Julio Cortázar de la editorial El Zorro Rojo. Las ilustraciones son también bastante tétricas con lo que acompañan bastante bien a la historia.
October 3, 2017
In his short story entitled “Ms. Found in a Bottle” (1833), author Edgar Allan Poe told a tale of shipwreck on the high seas, following the mother of all storms. Along with one other survivor, our narrator drifts helplessly on the surface of the water, later encountering what seems to be a ghost ship, on which he climbs aboard, only to be swept toward the south polar regions and to an unknown fate. Flash forward five years, and Poe has now enlarged on some of this story's set pieces and themes, and turned them into the long-form work known as "The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket." Although Poe would ultimately write 50 poems (Poe-ems?), 68 short stories, and reams of literary criticism before his premature death at age 40, "The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket" was his only novel. Its first few chapters initially appeared in "The Southern Literary Messenger," the Richmond, Virginia publication where Poe worked as editor; the novel itself first appeared in 1838, sans Poe’s name on the title page, and when the budding author was only 29. Poe's one and only novel did not do well and was critically ill received, but today, going on 200 years later, its classic reputation rests very solidly indeed. The book, apparently, was not only an inspiration for Herman Melville's "Moby-Dick" (1851), but also for Jules Verne, who was moved to write a sequel, and for H.P. Lovecraft, whose "At the Mountains of Madness" (1936) is clearly indebted to Poe's work here. My main reason for reading Poe's novel at this time, however, other than its classic and influential status, is the fact that it has been chosen for inclusion in Cawthorn & Moorcock's excellent overview volume "Fantasy: The 100 Best Books," a reference work that I tend to use as a reading syllabus/checklist. And I'm so glad that I did!
As would be expected, the book takes the form of an extended narrative of a Nantucket schoolboy named Pym, who tells us here of the adventures he had subsequent to stowing away on the whaler Grampus. His best friend Augustus Barnard, whose father was the ship's captain, smuggled him on board, and hid him in the cargo hold belowdecks, where poor Pym was trapped within pitch darkness for two weeks, and with scanty food and water, foul air, and his increasingly deranged dog, Tiger. But Pym's lot only became worse after being freed from the hold. The Grampus had been taken over by a band of cutthroat mutineers, who had either killed or put overboard the entire ship’s complement! Pym, Augustus, Tiger, and the diminutive but Herculean Indian half-breed Dirk Peters managed to eliminate the mutineers, only to face days of hurricane-force winds, weeks of thirst and starvation, the imminent threat of hungry sharks, the necessity of cannibalism, the capsizing of the Grampus, and then still more days at sea. Truly, a harrowing, horrendous ocean voyage for young Pym, although all firmly in the realm of the credible, with no fantasy elements whatsoever. It is only when Pym and Peters, the sole survivors, are rescued at sea by the schooner Jane Guy that Poe's novel/Pym's story veers off into the fantastic. The Jane Guy's crew, apparently, soon decided to explore the regions near and below the Antarctic Circle, only to have discovered strange forms of flora and fauna, and an island filled with a seemingly friendly clan of black people: black skin, black clothes, even black teeth. But that surface amiability on the part of the natives of the island of Tsalal was very short lived, indeed....
When "The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket" was initially released, without Poe's name attached to it, the book fooled many readers into the belief that the events described had actually happened to the young author Pym, and it is easy to see why. Poe invests so much detail and so many verifiable facts into his book that even the most skeptical of readers might find his/her incredulity being (like the Grampus itself) swept away. Poe, thus, regales us with travelogue bits (for example, the history of the Kerguelen Islands in the south Indian Ocean), gives us some natural history information (everything you'll likely ever need to know about the nesting habits of the albatross, for example), provides precise compass readings of every obscure island visited (in case you ever decide to seek out the legendary Aurora Islands), tells us the complete history of south polar exploration (Captain Cook, James Weddell, Benjamin Morrell, etc.), and explains the precise method for preparing and preserving sea cucumbers. To further add authenticity, former Army sergeant-major Poe demonstrates an impressive knowledge of seamanship, including lengthy passages on the correct way to store cargo and how to "lay-to" the wind. Amusingly, Cawthorn & Moorcock refer to these stretches of factual exposition as "occasional Sargassoes," but somehow, this reader found it all pretty fascinating stuff (although I did find an unabridged dictionary and an atlas to be of invaluable assistance as I made my way through them).
Ultimately, though, "The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket" does justify its claim to be included in the fantasy pantheon. Once in the Antarctic, those fantastic elements include the 3-foot-long, 6-inch-high, white-furred, scarlet-toothed (!) animal that the Jane Guy crew discovers; the black tribe on Tsalal; the oversized scorpions and reptiles (!!!) found near the South Pole; and the mysterious, multihued water that is met with on the natives' island. Elements of horror are also to be found here in abundance, including Pym's truly harrowing experience aboard the Grampus (belowdecks, with the mutineers, when facing storm and sharks and starvation), and most especially the scene in which lots are drawn to determine who will be sacrificed as a cannibal dinner for the others. In perhaps the book's most memorable scene, however, the Grampus encounters a Dutch ship of the literal dead (a Flying Dutchman reference?); not a ship comprised of ghosts, as in the 1833 short story, but rather, a ship filled with nothing but putrescent corpses, one of whom gives the semblance of a bow's figurehead from hell. For me, this book was both compelling and unputdownable; when I rush home from a day of proofreading and copyediting at work, yet still looking forward to picking up a book where I had left off the previous evening, that is a sure sign, indeed, of a grippingly well-told work.
Having said that, though, I will confess that Poe's novel did present me with some problems. For one thing, the author seems to get some of his facts wrong on occasion. He tells us that the (real-life) brig Polly had been lost at sea from December 15th to June 20th, for a total of 191 days; shouldn't that be 188 days? He goes on and on describing the cohabitation proclivities of the albatross and penguin, yet later tells us that this co-nesting is a habit of the albatross and...the pelican? He tells us that Capt. Barnard was "in the employ of Lloyd and Vredenburgh," yet later, when a character named Vredenburgh falls overboard from the Jane Guy, nothing is made of the (what I'm guessing is a) coincidence. Perhaps worse is the fact that the fates of two of the characters, Tiger and Capt. Barnard, are left up in the air: Capt. Barnard is put into a rowboat by the mutineers, his ultimate fate not vouchsafed by the author, while the Newfoundland dog is simply written out of the story following his valiant fight with the mutineers. Was he lost at sea during the ensuing hurricane? Poe never deigns to tell us. And perhaps even worse is the egregious internal inconsistency regarding Augustus. Pym tells us of a tidbit that Augustus told him many years later...but how could this possibly have happened, since Augustus does not survive the Grampus ordeal?!?! And on a personal note, this reader could never properly envision the ravines, pits and gorges that Pym and Peters explore on Tsalal. As if in recognition of this potential problem for his readers, Poe supplies us with five explanatory diagrams, which help not a whit, and only served to confuse me more.
Finally, as is generally known, "The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket" ends in a cliffhanger fashion, with Pym and Peters on the brink of discovering something momentous near the South Pole. This fact did not bother me; I actually liked the book ending with a sense of the cosmic unknowable, as in the William Hope Hodgson classic "The House on the Borderland" (1908). What did bother me is the fact that Pym supposedly makes it back to civilization (where his foreword was written) and then suddenly died; so why couldn’t "editor" Poe tell us what happened to him? It is all very strange, the cumulative effect being one of a very singular and mysterious experience, indeed. No wonder that Frenchman Jules Verne felt the necessity, in 1897, of trying to riddle out some of the story's manifold mysteries, in his 44th novel, "An Antarctic Mystery" (aka "The Sphinx of the Ice–Fields"). I am now going to have to get my hands on this Verne title one day. The conundrum of those Tsalalian hieroglyphics is, for me, just too much to ignore....
(By the way, this review originally appeared on the FanLit website at http://www.fantasyliterature.com/ ... a most ideal destination for all fans of Edgar Allan Poe....)
As would be expected, the book takes the form of an extended narrative of a Nantucket schoolboy named Pym, who tells us here of the adventures he had subsequent to stowing away on the whaler Grampus. His best friend Augustus Barnard, whose father was the ship's captain, smuggled him on board, and hid him in the cargo hold belowdecks, where poor Pym was trapped within pitch darkness for two weeks, and with scanty food and water, foul air, and his increasingly deranged dog, Tiger. But Pym's lot only became worse after being freed from the hold. The Grampus had been taken over by a band of cutthroat mutineers, who had either killed or put overboard the entire ship’s complement! Pym, Augustus, Tiger, and the diminutive but Herculean Indian half-breed Dirk Peters managed to eliminate the mutineers, only to face days of hurricane-force winds, weeks of thirst and starvation, the imminent threat of hungry sharks, the necessity of cannibalism, the capsizing of the Grampus, and then still more days at sea. Truly, a harrowing, horrendous ocean voyage for young Pym, although all firmly in the realm of the credible, with no fantasy elements whatsoever. It is only when Pym and Peters, the sole survivors, are rescued at sea by the schooner Jane Guy that Poe's novel/Pym's story veers off into the fantastic. The Jane Guy's crew, apparently, soon decided to explore the regions near and below the Antarctic Circle, only to have discovered strange forms of flora and fauna, and an island filled with a seemingly friendly clan of black people: black skin, black clothes, even black teeth. But that surface amiability on the part of the natives of the island of Tsalal was very short lived, indeed....
When "The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket" was initially released, without Poe's name attached to it, the book fooled many readers into the belief that the events described had actually happened to the young author Pym, and it is easy to see why. Poe invests so much detail and so many verifiable facts into his book that even the most skeptical of readers might find his/her incredulity being (like the Grampus itself) swept away. Poe, thus, regales us with travelogue bits (for example, the history of the Kerguelen Islands in the south Indian Ocean), gives us some natural history information (everything you'll likely ever need to know about the nesting habits of the albatross, for example), provides precise compass readings of every obscure island visited (in case you ever decide to seek out the legendary Aurora Islands), tells us the complete history of south polar exploration (Captain Cook, James Weddell, Benjamin Morrell, etc.), and explains the precise method for preparing and preserving sea cucumbers. To further add authenticity, former Army sergeant-major Poe demonstrates an impressive knowledge of seamanship, including lengthy passages on the correct way to store cargo and how to "lay-to" the wind. Amusingly, Cawthorn & Moorcock refer to these stretches of factual exposition as "occasional Sargassoes," but somehow, this reader found it all pretty fascinating stuff (although I did find an unabridged dictionary and an atlas to be of invaluable assistance as I made my way through them).
Ultimately, though, "The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket" does justify its claim to be included in the fantasy pantheon. Once in the Antarctic, those fantastic elements include the 3-foot-long, 6-inch-high, white-furred, scarlet-toothed (!) animal that the Jane Guy crew discovers; the black tribe on Tsalal; the oversized scorpions and reptiles (!!!) found near the South Pole; and the mysterious, multihued water that is met with on the natives' island. Elements of horror are also to be found here in abundance, including Pym's truly harrowing experience aboard the Grampus (belowdecks, with the mutineers, when facing storm and sharks and starvation), and most especially the scene in which lots are drawn to determine who will be sacrificed as a cannibal dinner for the others. In perhaps the book's most memorable scene, however, the Grampus encounters a Dutch ship of the literal dead (a Flying Dutchman reference?); not a ship comprised of ghosts, as in the 1833 short story, but rather, a ship filled with nothing but putrescent corpses, one of whom gives the semblance of a bow's figurehead from hell. For me, this book was both compelling and unputdownable; when I rush home from a day of proofreading and copyediting at work, yet still looking forward to picking up a book where I had left off the previous evening, that is a sure sign, indeed, of a grippingly well-told work.
Having said that, though, I will confess that Poe's novel did present me with some problems. For one thing, the author seems to get some of his facts wrong on occasion. He tells us that the (real-life) brig Polly had been lost at sea from December 15th to June 20th, for a total of 191 days; shouldn't that be 188 days? He goes on and on describing the cohabitation proclivities of the albatross and penguin, yet later tells us that this co-nesting is a habit of the albatross and...the pelican? He tells us that Capt. Barnard was "in the employ of Lloyd and Vredenburgh," yet later, when a character named Vredenburgh falls overboard from the Jane Guy, nothing is made of the (what I'm guessing is a) coincidence. Perhaps worse is the fact that the fates of two of the characters, Tiger and Capt. Barnard, are left up in the air: Capt. Barnard is put into a rowboat by the mutineers, his ultimate fate not vouchsafed by the author, while the Newfoundland dog is simply written out of the story following his valiant fight with the mutineers. Was he lost at sea during the ensuing hurricane? Poe never deigns to tell us. And perhaps even worse is the egregious internal inconsistency regarding Augustus. Pym tells us of a tidbit that Augustus told him many years later...but how could this possibly have happened, since Augustus does not survive the Grampus ordeal?!?! And on a personal note, this reader could never properly envision the ravines, pits and gorges that Pym and Peters explore on Tsalal. As if in recognition of this potential problem for his readers, Poe supplies us with five explanatory diagrams, which help not a whit, and only served to confuse me more.
Finally, as is generally known, "The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket" ends in a cliffhanger fashion, with Pym and Peters on the brink of discovering something momentous near the South Pole. This fact did not bother me; I actually liked the book ending with a sense of the cosmic unknowable, as in the William Hope Hodgson classic "The House on the Borderland" (1908). What did bother me is the fact that Pym supposedly makes it back to civilization (where his foreword was written) and then suddenly died; so why couldn’t "editor" Poe tell us what happened to him? It is all very strange, the cumulative effect being one of a very singular and mysterious experience, indeed. No wonder that Frenchman Jules Verne felt the necessity, in 1897, of trying to riddle out some of the story's manifold mysteries, in his 44th novel, "An Antarctic Mystery" (aka "The Sphinx of the Ice–Fields"). I am now going to have to get my hands on this Verne title one day. The conundrum of those Tsalalian hieroglyphics is, for me, just too much to ignore....
(By the way, this review originally appeared on the FanLit website at http://www.fantasyliterature.com/ ... a most ideal destination for all fans of Edgar Allan Poe....)
Read
May 13, 2015Read in April.
for plot, etc. you can go here ; otherwise, as usual, read on.
Since the first time I read this book some years ago, I've done a lot of reading about it and I've discovered that even Poe scholars can't agree on what to make of it. Dana D. Nelson in her The Word in Black and White: Reading "Race" in American Literature, 1638-1867 notes that
"Readings of Pym range widely, from psychoanalytic exploration to social satire, from self-referential commentary on writing (or reading) to a metacritical demonstration of utter absence of meaning. Those commenting on the text apparently cannot reach any consensus or 'thrust toward uniformity,'..."
Depending on which/whose critique/analysis you read, Poe's Pym is either a seagoing take on the American push for frontier expansion, an interior journey into the self, a quest novel (vis-a-vis Harold Bloom's definition, mentioned in this edition's introduction, [27]) a "jeremiad of the evils of slavery" or "covert statement of Southern racist ideology" [29], and it has even been noted as (in part) a story of thwarted colonialism (from Mat Johnson's hilarious novel Pym). Author Toni Morrison also argues re Poe's work that "no early American writer is more important to the concept of American Africanism than Poe" because of the "focus on the symbolism of black and white in Poe's novel."
The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym is a strange but interesting little book. According to that online font of knowledge called Wikipedia, Poe himself called this "a silly little book," and in some ways he's definitely right. It is way over the top and as another GR reviewer puts it, the "elephant in the room" of racism is definitely there. [as an aside, whether Poe was/was not a racist is still a matter of debate in scholarly circles.] After having read it, I can see why there are so many different interpretations of this novel (you can also add in bildungsroman), but in my opinion, no matter how you read it, it is much like many of Poe's other works, largely concerned with confronting the self in terms of other (if nothing else, the scene where he is disguised as a a dead man and can't recognize himself in the mirror is a huge clue), and the destabilization of the self that follows as a result. In the end, though I believe it's a novel best appreciated on an individual basis -- I mean, seriously, if vast numbers of scholars over the last 100-plus years can't agree about the nature of Pym, how can there be any definitive interpretation?
**
A brief word about this book: for anyone remotely interested in further studies of Poe's Pym, this particular edition from Broadview Press is a good place to start. The narrative is extensively footnoted, and there are three appendices -- "Sources for the Novel", "Contemporary Reviews," and "Other Writers' Responses to Pym" (Melville, Beaudelaire, Jules Verne, and Henry James). It also has an extensive bibliography and even a map of Pym's travels.
for plot, etc. you can go here ; otherwise, as usual, read on.
Since the first time I read this book some years ago, I've done a lot of reading about it and I've discovered that even Poe scholars can't agree on what to make of it. Dana D. Nelson in her The Word in Black and White: Reading "Race" in American Literature, 1638-1867 notes that
"Readings of Pym range widely, from psychoanalytic exploration to social satire, from self-referential commentary on writing (or reading) to a metacritical demonstration of utter absence of meaning. Those commenting on the text apparently cannot reach any consensus or 'thrust toward uniformity,'..."
Depending on which/whose critique/analysis you read, Poe's Pym is either a seagoing take on the American push for frontier expansion, an interior journey into the self, a quest novel (vis-a-vis Harold Bloom's definition, mentioned in this edition's introduction, [27]) a "jeremiad of the evils of slavery" or "covert statement of Southern racist ideology" [29], and it has even been noted as (in part) a story of thwarted colonialism (from Mat Johnson's hilarious novel Pym). Author Toni Morrison also argues re Poe's work that "no early American writer is more important to the concept of American Africanism than Poe" because of the "focus on the symbolism of black and white in Poe's novel."
The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym is a strange but interesting little book. According to that online font of knowledge called Wikipedia, Poe himself called this "a silly little book," and in some ways he's definitely right. It is way over the top and as another GR reviewer puts it, the "elephant in the room" of racism is definitely there. [as an aside, whether Poe was/was not a racist is still a matter of debate in scholarly circles.] After having read it, I can see why there are so many different interpretations of this novel (you can also add in bildungsroman), but in my opinion, no matter how you read it, it is much like many of Poe's other works, largely concerned with confronting the self in terms of other (if nothing else, the scene where he is disguised as a a dead man and can't recognize himself in the mirror is a huge clue), and the destabilization of the self that follows as a result. In the end, though I believe it's a novel best appreciated on an individual basis -- I mean, seriously, if vast numbers of scholars over the last 100-plus years can't agree about the nature of Pym, how can there be any definitive interpretation?
**
A brief word about this book: for anyone remotely interested in further studies of Poe's Pym, this particular edition from Broadview Press is a good place to start. The narrative is extensively footnoted, and there are three appendices -- "Sources for the Novel", "Contemporary Reviews," and "Other Writers' Responses to Pym" (Melville, Beaudelaire, Jules Verne, and Henry James). It also has an extensive bibliography and even a map of Pym's travels.
July 1, 2019
Quina delícia. Com he pogut passar tants anys sense llegir aquesta història, una de les meves novel·les d'aventures favorites des de ja mateix.
Acostumat al Poe dels relats foscos, el canvi a la lluminositat de la narració de Gordon Pym és xocant. El terror arriba de la llum en comptes de l'obscuritat, del blanc en comptes del negre. I ho fa amb una història irregularíssima que barreja gèneres estils, tons i textures –tant, que el mateix Poe ho reconeix al prefaci i diu que li atorga versemblança: amb raó–.
Allò que comença com una aventura de polissó en un vaixell passa a esdevenir un conte de pura supervivència claustrofòbica, i d'aquí salta a un naufragi, i d'aquí a un encontre amb un vaixell fantasma (en la que és una de les parts que m'ha fet aplaudir) i d'aquí a una història de canibalisme (ole, ole i ole) i d'aquí a... no seguiré per no fer spòilers, però comproves com la novel·la muda entre els teus dits a cada pàgina i t'obliga a llegir i llegir i no deixar-la en cap moment.
Potser la segona meitat, la de l'expedició fins a l'Antàrtic, peca de sobreexposició d'informació i dades (algú ha fet una ruta amb les latituds i longituds proposades?), molt alla Melville, però redreça en un tram final que COLLONS. COLLONS. COLLONS. No m'estranya que Verne i Lovecraft decidissin continuar-ne la història.
En definitiva, la millor novel·la que he llegit enguany, de moment.
Tekeli-li!
Acostumat al Poe dels relats foscos, el canvi a la lluminositat de la narració de Gordon Pym és xocant. El terror arriba de la llum en comptes de l'obscuritat, del blanc en comptes del negre. I ho fa amb una història irregularíssima que barreja gèneres estils, tons i textures –tant, que el mateix Poe ho reconeix al prefaci i diu que li atorga versemblança: amb raó–.
Allò que comença com una aventura de polissó en un vaixell passa a esdevenir un conte de pura supervivència claustrofòbica, i d'aquí salta a un naufragi, i d'aquí a un encontre amb un vaixell fantasma (en la que és una de les parts que m'ha fet aplaudir) i d'aquí a una història de canibalisme (ole, ole i ole) i d'aquí a... no seguiré per no fer spòilers, però comproves com la novel·la muda entre els teus dits a cada pàgina i t'obliga a llegir i llegir i no deixar-la en cap moment.
Potser la segona meitat, la de l'expedició fins a l'Antàrtic, peca de sobreexposició d'informació i dades (algú ha fet una ruta amb les latituds i longituds proposades?), molt alla Melville, però redreça en un tram final que COLLONS. COLLONS. COLLONS. No m'estranya que Verne i Lovecraft decidissin continuar-ne la història.
En definitiva, la millor novel·la que he llegit enguany, de moment.
Tekeli-li!
July 23, 2023
I remember reading this book, Poe's single novel(!) as a teenager, tempted by the promising title and not being too impressed. It is the same case today, after more than forty years: not appetizing enough in terms of pure adventure, a bit too technically and somehow even dull, so you have to be very patient in order to take it to the end.
PS: Shipwrecks, mutiny, cannibalism, a happy end for Poe's standards, and yet something is missing, comparing at least to Robinson Crusoe...
PS: Shipwrecks, mutiny, cannibalism, a happy end for Poe's standards, and yet something is missing, comparing at least to Robinson Crusoe...
October 22, 2019
این کتابی است که چند سال پیش خواندهام.
ادگار آلن پو در تصویر کردن وقایع هولناک ، مرموز و خوفناک استاد بی نظیری است .
هنوز با اینکه سالها از خواندن کتاب می گذرد اما اتفاقات درون کشتی و سرگذشت گوردون پیم پرماجرا در زوایای ذهنم به وضوح حک شده است .
علیرغم اینکه ظاهرا کتاب و داستان ناتمام مانده اما به شماپیشنهاد می کنم تجربه خواندن این کتاب را از دست ندهید چرا که علاوه بر جذابیت و دهشتناک بودن ماجرای کتاب شاید تنها داستان بلند آلن پو باشد.
ادگار آلن پو در تصویر کردن وقایع هولناک ، مرموز و خوفناک استاد بی نظیری است .
هنوز با اینکه سالها از خواندن کتاب می گذرد اما اتفاقات درون کشتی و سرگذشت گوردون پیم پرماجرا در زوایای ذهنم به وضوح حک شده است .
علیرغم اینکه ظاهرا کتاب و داستان ناتمام مانده اما به شماپیشنهاد می کنم تجربه خواندن این کتاب را از دست ندهید چرا که علاوه بر جذابیت و دهشتناک بودن ماجرای کتاب شاید تنها داستان بلند آلن پو باشد.
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