Transparent Things

Nothing that Nabokov writes is "transparent." He always is referencing at least two things if not a whole plethora of images and metaphors at once with each line. In this novel, a late one, Nabokov has developed his inimical and sublime writing style. His sentences are virtual perfection. His illustrations are so real and yet so imaginary.In addition, the story line is very complex. The protagonist is traveling through Europe in a repetition of a trip long gone by. Many things do not come about as he would want them. Each time, for Nabokov's own particular reasons. Sexuality and the lack there of is tantamount to the story. Yet what makes the telling so particularly `Nabokov' is the manner in which he switches from temporal event to temporal event without necessarily giving any indication to the reader that we have come "unstuck in time."While the book is a rather short 104 pages, the complexity that is built into the story will hold all serious readers of literature in rapt attention. The story moves quickly and it is necessary for the reader to slow down the pace of the reading to make sure that the implications are properly conveyed and absorbed. It truly is a highly recommended example of Nabokov's true literary genius.

It's not superb, but it works. It is an older edition, and I haven't even opened it yet. It's for class, and I'm kind of Nabokoved out.

Thanks

A couple of passages (see below) from Nabokov's "Transparent Things" inspired me to write the following thoughts that I hope will help you pre-view this work of his.The passages in question:"A thin veneer of immediate reality is spread over natural and artificial matter, and whoever wishes to remain in the now, with the now, on the now, should please not break its tension film.""When we concentrate on a material object <...> the very act of attention may lead to our involuntary sinking into the history of that object. Novices must learn to skim over matter if they want to stay at the exact level of the moment."The thoughts that these passages inspired in me:Meaning is an association of what is now with what once was...Take a look at any object in your immediate environment: say, you are looking at a "so-called" (I'll explain the "so-called" parenthetical in a few moments) cup. Say, I picked it up from your desk and asked: "What is this?" You'd say: "A cup." And I'd say: "No, what is this?" After a moment of bemusement, you might offer: "A mug?" And I - with the best of the poker faces - would stay firm: "No, what is this?" After a pause and/or after a little friendly prodding from me, you might suggest: "A container for liquids?" To welcome the emerging looseness of your associations, I'd kick the door of your mind with a more clue-like question: "Yes... What else could this object be?" With this prompt, you'd likely fire off a series of ideas: "A paper-weight, a weapon if you throw it, a small hand-held shovel..."So here we are: what used to be a cup now has acquired some additional meanings, by virtue of re-association...Where am I going with this? Okay: let me reiterate the thesis: meaning is an association. When, as kids, we first encounter a new object, we ask: "Mom/Dad, what is this?" "It's a fork," Mom/Dad programs our mind... "And this (fill in the blank)?" Mom/Dad: "This is (fill in the blank)."Meaning is a process of filling in the blanks of the mind... with words... that trigger other words... that trigger more words... As we grow and acquire language, we, in essence, acquire a baggage of associations that weighs us down as we try to skate the thin ice of presence.Vladimir Nabokov, in Transparent Things, writes: "When we concentrate on a material object <...> the very act of attention may lead to our involuntary sinking into the history of that object. Novices must learn to skim over matter if they want to stay at the exact level of the moment."Nabokov, the great Russian-English novelist, whose own style is so ingeniously laden with association-rich detail, here, both de-constructs his own style and defines Zen: "A thin veneer of immediate reality is spread over natural and artificial matter, and whoever wishes to remain in the now, with the now, on the now, should please not break its tension film."Nabokov's advice is straight from Buddhism: to stay in the moment, we must somehow avoid weighing down "what is" with our pre-conceived notions of "what it means."As we encounter reality, we continuously make meaning, i.e. we associate "what is" with "what it means." In so doing, we continuously confuse the Present for the Past. "Oh," we think with quickly fading interest, "this is a fork" as we look at a "so-called" (I'll explain the "so-called" parenthetical in a few moments) fork.Nabokov proclaims: "Transparent things, through which the past shines!"Yes: the Present is Transparent. If seen as such, not through the lens of past associations, it has the proverbial clarity of enlightenment. But how elusive this way of seeing, or rather not seeing! How thin this ice of Presence!Meaning is an artifact of the Past, not the actual fact of the Present. Things that we have not yet encountered have no meaning to us. And when we encounter something new, we are understandably startled. The more we live, the more reality we manage to label with words of meaning, the heavier is the baggage of our associations. And as we progress in time, we lose the spontaneity of the response: we've seen it all, nothing's new, everything has been already categorized...So, instead of seeing reality as it is, we see a "so-called" reality - a reality that we so called, a reality of our own associations, a reflection of our subjective life experience, documented in the narrative of choice. Language constructs perception: first, the word, then, the perceived reality.If we call this This "this," so it becomes "so-called."Case in point: the ones of us who have avoided the correctional side of society (whether it is on the side of an inmate or a prison guard) look at a so-called fork, we see a utensil, rather a weapon because for us this object has come to mean exactly that. An inmate or a prison guard looks at the very same fork, and sees an opportunity or a threat, respectively, i.e. a very different reality...But in reality, we are all imprisoned in our "so-called" realities of habitual interpretation. Buddhism, particularly, Zen Buddhism, offers a way out of this prison: non-discursive thought. Mindfulness - as a practice - can be understood as interpretive silence: witness but don't label, witness but don't describe, witness what is as it is, avoid the lens of the past associations.As such, mindfulness is a form of meaninglessness. And that is its existential meaning!Seeing the reality as is, not through the distorting prism of past associations, allows us the invigorating encounter with the novelty of Now: after all, this moment that you almost dismissed as something that you've already seen, is entirely unprecedented. This Now is, in fact, the only news!To Nabokov, skimming the Present without sinking into the Past is a miracle that befits only the most experienced: "Otherwise the inexperienced miracle-worker will find himself no longer walking on water but descending upright among staring fish" (if I may add) under the weight of past associations.Pavel Somov, Ph.D.Author of "Eating the Moment: 141 Mindful Practices to Overcome Overeating One Meal at a Time" (New Harbinger, Nov. 2008)[...]

A fun, quick read. There are entire novels in his parenthetic asides. Ecstatic and joyous. Yes, there are a couple of muddled, unclear passages, some plot leaps that feel a bit lazy, a few repeated puns and some link between images that are telegraphed a bit too loudly. But these things only stand out because the rest of it is so good!

I read that book and was a bit baffled.After reading the book, it was clear to me that one would need some help in trying to sort out exactly what the book means. Many other people such as John Updike have been baffled by the book. According to professional analysis found elsewhere, Transparent Things was first published in December 1971 in Esquire. And, from what Nabokov said, he finished the slim novella on April fool's day, of that same year. Is that the first tip? Is this book a bit of a sophisticated joke?Most people have a hard time understanding what it means, and it takes at least two reads to get any sort of an understanding. Nabokov himself was amused by the critics and probably would continue to be amused today if he was still alive, and he said: "Amongst the reviewers several careful readers have published some beautiful stuff about it. Yet neither they nor, of course, the common criticule discerned the structural knot of the story."And his biographer is quoted:Nabokov biographer Brian Boyd's analysis attempts to untie that "knot" with a more specific elucidation: "Within the small compass of Transparent Things and the bleak life of Hugh Person, Nabokov ruptures the relationship of reader, character, and author more radically than he has ever done, in order to explore some of his oldest themes: the nature of time; the mystery and privacy of the human soul, and its simultaneous need to breach its solitude; the scope of consciousness beyond death; the possibility of design in the universe."So where does that leave us average reader? What are we to make of it all? What is Nabokov's "knot." Without giving away the story, I can only guess but it is a "dream like" narrative of a man who is delusional and later near the end he is in a schizophrenic state? But as noted by others, it is not the protagonist himself who narrates the tale in a wild fashion, but a third party who is (presumably) lucid.Correct me if I am wrong, and I am happy to discuss the book with anyone; but, was Person not in some sort of delusional state at the end? And, how does his described actions show us a window on our soul, or even blur the boundary between life and death? Or is there a whimsical element here? Or is to make us think, or again is it just literary art?Many call the book a masterpiece. I think it is a very imaginative and hard to fathom piece of literature. It is literature as art, or art-for-art's sake. Nabokov has removed all the boundaries on his writing, mixing time and events. So, understand it or not, it is an interesting read.

..."he grunted and sighed in his sleep, dreaming of large unwieldy blocks of blackness"...I suppose it goes without saying that Nabokov's prose is brilliantly inventive, full of vivid turns of phrase and dark humour, but how does the book stack up as a whole? Well, Transparent Things is a novella about the life and memories of a seemingly average man. Hugh Person is his name, and this is the snapshot story of his stand-out moments which (as the short chapters reveal) are both strange and familiar, humdrum and disastrous.Transparent Things is a subtle book: the way Nabokov shows Hugh Person is surreal and sublime, yet also mundane and melancholic. All in all TT is an elegant work - a masterclass in the art of long short-story writing: understated, wistful, perceptive, deft, elusive and engaging -: definitely worth reading for the imaginative writing.

Excellent

The quality of the print is perfect.

Great read.

I am always pleased to come across a book by Nabokov that I did not know about but I am afraid it is clearly not him at his best..