Pale Fire

Rating:
Summary: Nabokov's Tour de Force
Review: Pale Fire is the name of a 999-line poem in four cantos by the "distinguished American poet" John Shade, published posthumously in a lovingly prepared edition with a foreword and detailed commentary by the Zemblan literary scholar Charles Kinbote. Pale Fire is also the name of the novel by Vladimir Nabokov in which the poem is written by Shade and annotated by Kinbote, who are Nabokov's creations. The novel is actually written in the form of poem and scholarly apparatus, not omitting a thorough index. It is a perfect and perfectly original union of form and meaning. It is also wickedly, outrageously funny.

The poem itself is a complicated, beautiful, mysterious achievement. It reveals the character of John Shade so completely and movingly that we have to keep reminding ourselves that it was actually written by Nabokov, himself. The poem is the heart of the novel, literally and figuratively, although the commentary no doubt constitutes the most interesting reading. Pale Fire is Shade's final work; possibly his greatest work. It is the product of every thought and experience in a long, thoughtful life, and it also contains that entire life: childhood, adolescence, marriage, fatherhood, old age and death. The title refers to the "pale fire of time," and is taken from a poem by Yeats and not from Shakespeare, as Kinbote confidently suggests. Or is Nabokov simply leading us on a merry chase? Better check Timon of Athens to be sure.

And Kinbote is frequently wrong in his confident suggestions in the commentary. He identifies allusions where none exist; fails to recognize those that are actually there (he is writing his notes in a remote cabin in the Rockies and complains that he has no books to check his references), and suggests interpretations which are clearly, hilariously, wrong. The hapless Dr. Kinbote has got it into his head that Pale Fire (the poem) is really about himself, and his commentary is an audacious attempt to demonstrate this.

So, almost ignoring what is actually present in the poem, he proceeds through the commentary to give a detailed history of his own life and times, often revealing far more than he really means to do. And it turns out to be quite a good story, because Kinbote, a native of the remote northern European country of Zembla, has had quite an adventurous past. It is only a pity that it is quite irrelevant to Shade's poem. Kinbote just happens to be a man who doesn't do anything by halves; even the most innocuous phrase of the poem is "demonstrated" to be a cryptic reference to some event in Kinbote's life. Pale Fire is nothing if it is not great fun.

But Pale Fire is not merely amusing and inventive. Kinbote's commentary seems to be everything literary criticism should not be; but it is actually only an extreme, exaggerated version of what literary criticism truly is. Kinbote attempts to rewrite Shade's poem in his own image and likeness, but this is true to a greater or lesser extent--or a more or less subtle extent--of every critic, amateur or professional.

Pale Fire is thus a complex, and ultimately rather touching, demonstration of the way people have of reading their lives into books and reading books into their lives, like Kinbote. (And also, the way we have of writing our lives into books and writing books into our lives, like Shade.) It is an affirmation of the power of literature, of the power of books to help us make sense of our lives, and of the impossibility of distinguishing precisely where art ends and life begins. To quote John Shade:

I feel I understand/ Existence, or at least a minute part/ Of my existence, only through my art,/ In terms of combinational delight;/ And if my private universe scans right,/ So does the verse of galaxies divine/ Which I suspect is an iambic line.

Almost every reader can remember that one particular novel, poem or play that seemed to have been written for him and him alone. The one the reader took so personally, it changed his entire outlook on life and which even now he cannot discuss rationally or impartially. Every passionate reader knows of just such a book or even books. So, perhaps we should spare one or two sympathetic thoughts for the poor, but smitten, Dr. Kinbote even as we laugh uproariously at his well-intentioned mistakes.

Rating:
Summary: A Key to the Mystery of Life itself!
Review: Nabokov, that Grand Master, has constructed an elaborate puzzle here.

Chess as a metaphor for life itself. Black and white: black letters on a white page, moieties, the two players that mirror each other like lovers caught up in an almost infinite game of possibilities and permutations, the two parts of the text itself and the syzygy of sun and moon.

But as one reads and rereads the novel, immersing oneself in the substance of the text one realizes that at heart Pale Fire is about the transmutation of grey. The grey of shades, shadows, indeterminate hues (hazel!), fumbled moves, grades and degrees, obfuscation and hesitation is gloriously transformed into the texture of life itself.

And as the game begins and the players cross the invisible line of the mirror and make incursions into foreign territory or surround each others pieces in ever-changing arabesques, the two-dimensional black/white grid morphs into a three-dimensional matrix with interstitial spaces and other facets reclaiming their position in the light. Gray is now about resonance and reflection, refraction and submersion, give and take. Text is now enmeshed in texture, the syzygy of sun and moon is now immersed in the waters of the ocean.

Rating:
Summary: Beautiful, annoying, hilarious, sad
Review: If I had to take one Nabokov novel to a desert island, it'd probably be "Lolita", but that's daft, it's never going to happen; so after a few years' hemming and humming I concede defeat and admit that "Pale Fire" is VN's _other_ English-language out'n'out masterpiece.

I've always had a bit of a problem with "Pale Fire", in that Nabokov's cunning is designed to make me be more interested in the demented Kinbote's delirious commentary than John Shade's measured, reasonable poem, whereas in practice I find Shade much more congenial company than his loony editor, and find myself skipping through the book on rereads for snatches of the poet in action. But having just started it again for the, oh, fifth or sixth time, I confess that knowing Kinbote's quirks and secrets as well as I do, his goofy selfishness and insensitivity are truly hilarious. (e.g.: I love the way that, in the Foreword, he can't mention his car without prefixing it with the defensive epithet "powerful" - perhaps VN was hinting here at a cod-Freudian relationship, Kinbote unconsciously imagining car as phallic substitute, I won't go on, but you get the idea.)

Having also just reread Brian Boyd's mighty biography of Nabokov, I'm very attracted to the idea that Kinbote is Shade's invention. It does make the book tie up with fantastic neatness - although it also takes a lot of the impact out of Shade's senseless death. If Shade didn't really die, then the book isn't as subversively moving as it might have been - although, now that I think about it, it's moving in a rather more realistic and complicated way; damn these biographers and their privileged insight!

"Pale Fire" is both puzzle and lyric. It zigzags wildly around the heavens while keeping its focus firmly on that frozen swamp in which Hazel Shade disappears. Most of Nabokov's imitators copy the verbal exuberance, but fail to appreciate the beating heart. His best books throb with life as much as they crackle with wit and intelligence, and a book as clever and as lively as "Pale Fire" almost makes me want to forgive the author for condoning the bombing of North Vietnam. Not quite, mind you. There are limits.

Rating:
Summary: The Strangest and Most Beautiful of Mysteries
Review: Pale Fire is essentially a mystery story. It presents facts and the testimony of a deranged man, and allows the reader to do the detective work. The task presented the reader is daunting as the plots, subplots, and character sketches twist in ever tightening involutions, levels of complexity stacking one on top of another. Nabokov is kind though. Ever conscious of the novel as entertainment he allows the proccess to be fun. He gives away many of the mysteries in ways that lead the reader to believe that he or she has made the discovery. He also leaves some that are so complicated that it would take multiple rereads (or a good companion reader) to make the discoveries. This book is without a doubt my favorite of Nabokov's works, and there are few that I would not recommend it to. My only warning is that you will get out of this book exactly what you put in it. If you read straight through and put it down, you will only scratch the suface of what this novel offers and intends. Though even this will eb an enjoyable experience. The more time you invest and the more you investigate, the richer the experiece will be, and in my opinion, the more fun you will have. Pale Fire is a beautiful and entrancing puzzle capable of almost infinite entertainment.

Rating:
Summary: Nabokov's Second Best Novel--A Work of Genius
Review: Among Nabokov's very best books, few present such serious challenges to the reader as "Pale Fire". Even fewer provide such enormous rewards, especially if said reader brings an open mind and a serious attention to detail. What kind of book, exactly, is "Pale Fire", anyway? A longish poem with annotation and index? A wildly experimental novel that flaunts every convention for the sake of innovation? An elegiac reflection on days gone by or a wickedly comedic parody of scholarship and the artistic urge? It is all those things and more, a watershed in English-language literature, the apotheosis of Nabokov's craft as writer and satirist. For the record, the crazed, domineering Prof. Kinbote (mastermind or madman? You decide) is rivaled only by Humbert Humbert when it comes to delusional, obssessive narrators--talk about unreliable, not to mention fascinating beyond belief. What are we to make of his claim to be the exiled King of Zembla? Where, if not only in his over-ripe imagination, is Zembla and what, if anything, does this country have to do with the poet Shade and his dead daughter? There is the question of the hired assasin "Jakob Gradus", too, though, like Zembla, Gradus might or might not be anything more that an invention of Kinbote's (if Kinbote himself is actually Kinbote and not an imposter claiming to be a man who might be an imposter as well...you can see where this is going, can't you?) "Pale Fire" is a puzzle, one that makes strenuous demands upon the reader, one that cannot be read straight-through (there are page references in the annotation, after all--you'd do well to pay attention to them) or merely "skimmed". If you have the patience to immerse yourself in Nabokov/Kinbote's topsy-turvy world of intrigue, artistry and (perhaps?) the supernatural, you are in for a bracing read. There's no other book out there like "Pale Fire", it could only have come from the brilliant mind of Nabokov and it is splendid, indeed. A word to the wise: Read the book ALL THE WAY to the very end. What might seem like peripheral information is actually critical if you intend to crack the novel's deviously intricate code.

Rating:
Summary: A few things to consider
Review: 1. Do not read the introduction. 2. Stick with this book to the end at all costs, like I did. A good friend said it was a great book and I stayed with it. 3. If you are confused and unsure when reading this, your discomfort will be rewarded 100-fold. 4. Consider that Engish was Nabokov's second (or third language)and be awed by the prose. 5. Resist whatever temptation you have for reading reviews that even begin to suggest what this story is about. Please don't do it. I urge you. Read the reviews only after you read the book. A completely naked take on this book was in the end what made it most gratifying for me.

Rating:
Summary: Volodya's masterpiece, a thing apart.....
Review: It is not for me, mere mortal, to attempt a criticism of Volodya's masterpiece. He would laugh long and certainly at what we do here. He would ask only that more "good readers" step up and grab this "intricate contusion of literature" by its lapels and discover one of the watershed glories of the last one hundred years.

Rating:
Summary: Ridiculous and Sublime
Review: This is one of the most amazing works of literature of all time. It is both a parody and a work of amazing intricacy and depth. It stands in a category all its own. The 999-line poem upon which the book is supposedly based is a great piece of literature all by itself. Don't skip over it! There are belly laughs interspersed throughout the book. I wish Pale Fire had been on the reading list in one of my college lit courses to provide some comic relief.

Rating:
Summary: A Brilliant Rollick
Review: Pale Fire is a wonderfully enjoyable work of fiction, although it is not in the form of a traditional novel. The story unfolds in an introduction to, and commentary to a 999 line poem. It appears that Nabakov had great fun constructing this masterpiece and I think the reader will have fun deciphering it. The introduction and commentary are "written" by a slightly insane, slightly delusional professor, Charles Kinbote, who is perhaps a deposed king on the run, perhaps not. He believes he has inspired the poet to construct a poem about his former kingdom, but alas, the poem is about the poet's life. Kinbote is greatly disappointed, but in his commentary manages to find allusions to his former kingdom and rambles on and on about it. The results are often hilarious and always thought provoking. Nabokov has such a good time writing in English and because it is not his native toungue, he sees things in the words that native English speakers wouldn't. It's fun to watch him play with the words, as it's fun to watch him play with our conceptions of reality. The whole book plays around with what is reality, who is the narrator. Is it Nabokov pretending to be Kinbote, is it just Nabokov. One wonders what really happened in the story. Kinbote tells one version, the characters he speaks of tells another, as does our poet, John Shade, Nabokov is telling yet another. There are so many layers of story and illusion. I found myself wondering what really happened, but it's fiction, nothing happened, or everything happened. I really enjoyed this book a great deal. It even took my mind off of being in the dentist's chair. I highly recommend this book to anyone who isn't afraid of slightly experimental fiction. Fans of Infinite Jest and House of Leaves will certainly enjoy Pale Fire.

Rating:
Summary: Delicious, wicked delight
Review: Oh what a treat it is to be re-reading this book! I first read it in 1967 in a cruddy one-room apartment in Port Arthur, now Thunder Bay, Canada when I was broke and hungry. As I read that marvel named Pale Fire, hell, I thought, who needs food? I'd always had a deep hankering to re-read it. I bought a brand-new copy and what fun it is again! It's one of the few books I know I'll re-read yet again. Don't miss it!