"Nabokov writes prose the only way it should be written, that is, ecstatically." -- John Updike
The Real Life of Sebastian Knight is a perversely magical literary detective story -- subtle, intricate, leading to a tantalizing climax -- about the mysterious life of a famous writer. Many people knew things about Sebastian Knight as a distinguished novelist, but probably fewer than a dozen knew of the two love affairs that so profoundly influenced his career, the second one in such a disastrous way. After Knight's death, his half brother sets out to penetrate the enigma of his life, starting with a few scanty clues in the novelist's private papers. His search proves to be a story as intriguing as any of his subject's own novels, as baffling, and, in the end, as uniquely rewarding.
Vladimir Nabokov was born on April 23, 1899, in St. Petersburg, Russia. The Nabokovs were known for their high culture and commitment to public service, and the elder Nabokov was an outspoken opponent of anti-Semitism and one of the leaders of the opposition party, the Kadets. In 1919, following the Bolshevik Revolution, he took his family into exile. Four years later he was shot and killed at a political rally in Berlin while trying to shield the speaker from right-wing assassins. The Nabokov household was trilingual, and as a child Nabokov was already reading Wells, Poe, Browning, Keats, Flaubert, Verlaine, Rimbaud, Tolstoy, and Chekhov alongside the popular entertainments of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and Jules Verne. As a young man, he studied Slavic and romance languages at Trinity College, Cambridge, taking his honors degree in 1922. For the next 18 years he lived in Berlin and Paris, writing prolifically in Russian under the pseudonym "Sirin" and supporting himself through translations, lessons in English and tennis, and by composing the first crossword puzzles in Russian. In 1925, he married Vera Slonim, with whom he had one child, a son, Dmitri. Having already fled Russia and Germany, Nabokov became a refugee once more in 1940, when he was forced to leave France for the United States. There he taught at Wellesley, Harvard, and Cornell. He also gave up writing in Russian and began composing fiction in English. His most notable works include Bend Sinister (1947), Lolita (1955), Pnin (1957), and Pale Fire (1962), as well as the translation of his earlier Russian novels into English. He also undertook English translations of works by Lermontov and Pushkin and wrote several books of criticism. Vladimir Nabokov died in Montreux, Switzerland, in 1977.
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简直是一场智力上的盛宴,但又带着一种令人心悸的疏离感。这不是那种让你热泪盈眶、与角色建立深厚情感连接的故事,而更像是在解剖一具精密的钟表,观察每一个齿轮是如何咬合、如何驱动那个看似永恒的虚像。作者的文笔是极其冷静和克制的,即便是描述那些最情绪化或最荒诞的事件,也仿佛是从冰冷的实验室里传来的数据报告。这种冷静的笔触,反而放大了事件本身的荒谬性和人性的脆弱。我尤其着迷于书中对于“创造力”与“自我欺骗”之间那条模糊界限的描绘。塞巴斯蒂安·奈特似乎活在自己构建的剧本里,而那些试图还原他的努力,最终都成了对这个剧本的拙劣模仿。这本书要求读者保持高度的警觉性,因为每一个看似确凿的“事实”,都可能只是某个叙述者为了自己的目的而精心摆放的诱饵。它挑战了我们对文学传记的基本假设,迫使我们质疑,当我们试图捕捉一个逝去灵魂的本质时,我们真正捕捉到的,究竟是他人,还是我们自己的投射?读完后,我感到一种极度的智力满足,但同时也隐隐约约带着一种难以言喻的失落,仿佛错过了什么关键的、但又故意被隐藏的秘密。
评分我必须承认,这本书消耗了我大量的精力,但这种消耗是值得的,它带来的精神上的回馈是丰厚的。它超越了简单的“传记”范畴,触及了关于身份构建的哲学核心。最让我印象深刻的是,即使是以不同的口吻、不同的时间点来讲述同一个人的片段,那个“塞巴斯蒂安·奈特”的形象却奇异地具有了某种一致性——那就是他的“不可捉摸性”。这种一致性恰恰来自于他生命中所有尝试去定义他的努力的失败。这本书就像一个复杂的密码锁,每一章都是一组新的数字,你必须小心翼翼地尝试不同的组合。如果有人问我这本书是关于什么的,我可能会支支吾吾,因为它不是一个简单的“关于……的故事”,而是一个关于“尝试理解一个人的过程”的、关于“叙述的陷阱”的、关于“文学的魔力”的元小说。它像一个精巧的陷阱,一旦你踏入,你就会开始享受被它困住的感觉,享受那种在迷雾中摸索却又心甘情愿的状态。它留给读者的,不是答案,而是更深刻、更富有洞察力的问题。
评分这部作品的结构简直是文学建筑学的杰作,它不是线性叙事,更像是一个多维度的球体,你从任何一个角度切入,都会看到全新的切面。最让我震撼的是它对“记忆的不可靠性”的探讨,这种探讨不是空泛的哲学思辨,而是通过具体的、令人啼笑皆非的细节展现出来的。我时常会因为某个新出现的旁注或脚注而不得不回溯前面的章节,因为一个微小的修正或补充,立刻就颠覆了之前建立起来的认知基础。这需要读者极大的耐心和专注力,因为它毫不留情地将你从舒适的阅读期待中拉出来,扔进一片充满矛盾和悖论的文本海洋。它讲述了一个关于天才、关于流放、关于艺术家的故事,但所有这些宏大主题都被包裹在一种近乎滑稽的、对细节的痴迷之中。它成功地营造了一种氛围:我们都在追逐一个鬼魂,而这个鬼魂之所以迷人,恰恰在于它拒绝被固定、被定义。这种对确定性的拒绝,正是这本书最强大的魅力所在。它不是在讲述一个故事,它是在展示“故事是如何被制造出来的”这一永恒的悖论。
评分这本书读起来像是一场漫长而又令人着迷的午后梦游。它的节奏是慵懒中带着突然的紧张感,仿佛你正在阅读一份尘封已久、但被施加了某种时间魔咒的官方文件。我特别喜欢那种渗透在字里行间的冷幽默,那种源自对人类局限性的深刻理解而产生的、带着一丝悲悯的嘲讽。它似乎在对我们说:看啊,你们这些凡人,总想把复杂的人生简化成一个清晰的传记开头和结尾,但生命本身就是一堆难以归档的杂物和未完成的草稿。作者对于场景的描绘,虽然不多,但每每出现都带着一种超现实的清晰度,仿佛是电影镜头突然拉近,捕捉到了某个瞬间的本质。阅读过程就像是在一个巨大的图书馆里寻找一本特定的书,你翻阅了无数书目索引,对比了不同版本,但最终你发现,那本书的“真正版本”可能从未真正出版过。这种体验是极其私密的,因为它要求读者完全沉浸在作者为他们搭建的这个充满烟雾和镜子的世界里,并且乐于接受自己可能永远无法找到出口的事实。
评分这本书,怎么说呢,它给我的感觉就像是闯入了一个迷宫,但这个迷宫的墙壁是由最精致、最诱人的碎片搭建而成的。你以为你正在接近核心,终于要抓住那个“真实”的主角了,结果只是在另一个同样华丽却更加晦涩的回廊里打转。作者对于叙事视角的切换简直是出神入化,或者说,是故意为之的混乱。你不断地在“权威”的传记作者、一个充满疑虑的调查者,以及那些从历史尘埃中被挖掘出来的零碎手稿之间跳跃。每一次以为抓住了塞巴斯蒂安·奈特这个人,他的形象就会像被风吹散的沙堡一样,立刻坍塌,露出新的、更加令人困惑的纹理。我最欣赏的是那种对“创作”本身的反思,它不再仅仅是关于一个人的一生,而是关于“如何记录一生”,以及记录者自身的偏见如何无形中塑造了我们眼中的历史。那种对文学和人性的探究是如此的深刻,以至于读完后,我不得不停下来,审视我自己的记忆和认知,到底有多少是“真实”的,又有多少是别人强加给我的叙事框架。那种被精心设计的“不确定性”反而构建了一种极其坚实的阅读体验,让人欲罢不能地想要去拼凑一个永远无法完成的拼图。
评分想了解一个人于是变成了他。俄国上流社会的子弟二十世纪过得也是英风美雨,散落在欧洲大陆。最后要在英语世界获得名声,现在似乎也是一样。
评分想了解一个人于是变成了他。俄国上流社会的子弟二十世纪过得也是英风美雨,散落在欧洲大陆。最后要在英语世界获得名声,现在似乎也是一样。
评分咦,這本書我老早標記讀過的,怎麼標記消失了。
评分on how to inhabit a foreign language, how to live another's soul - as one's own
评分Boy o boy, I could've burst into tears!
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