The following review is littered throughout with spoilers; and so as to err on the side of caution, I've opted to hide the entire thing...(view spoiler)[Browsing through Mordecai Richler's Wikipedia page one evening, the following sentence caught my attention: "Some critics [have] thought Richler more adept at sketching striking scenes than crafting coherent narratives." Unfortunately, the entry failed to disclose the identities of those who had held such a view—that is, if anyone did at all (the conspicuous absence of a citation seems to support the latter possibility). But in any case, I'm inclined to believe, after having read Barney's Version, that the basic claim possesses its share of the truth.Allow me to explain myself. There's no denying that Richler is an accomplished prose stylist: in his expert hands (or at the very least his sole writing hand), the various locales in which the novel's action takes place—Paris, New York, Toronto and (especially) Montreal—are brought vibrantly alive, as do the horrendously flawed but ultimately lovable schmucks who inhabit them. And Wikipedia's enigmatic critics were right: my God, what striking action it is! Yet this doesn't, as they claimed, come at a cost. For despite the novel's 400+ pages, not a word feels wasted, even as it bursts at the seams with comedic interludes and divergent tangents. Rather, as Richler guides us through a myriad of entertaining albeit essential detours (think Tristran Shandy), we nonetheless inch persisently towards the final exposal of the work's central—although perhaps rather unexpected—message of love and redemption.Both the internal consistency of Barney's Version and its realness (for lack of a better term) likely stem from particular parallels to Richler's own life. Like the titular Barney Panofsky, Richler was besotted with another woman—whom he would later marry—at his own wedding reception. And both character and author are plagued by the infirmities of old-age; indeed, Richler would die only four years after the novel's publication. (Plus, here's another point of commonality: both men are credited with authoring the work—Mr. Richler on the front cover, Mr. Panofsky on inside title page). But the other characters also contain echoes of their creator. For instance, Richler's real-life stint in Paris as a young man did not resemble Barney and co.'s bohemian bullcrapping so much as it did Can-lit shyster Terry McIver's self-conscious mimicry of the Lost Generation. The result: an extradordinarily intimate work which begins by tickling your funnybone but ends up hitting you right in the heart.But a fly has dirtied the ointment. Perhaps it's nothing more than the first stirrings of undiagnosed OCD, but I was slighlty vexed by the ending. Slightly. But enough to perceptibly alter my attitude towards the entire novel. The problem is this: In order to finally resolve the mystery of Boogie's death, Richler invokes the urban legend of the scuba diver sucked up by the water bomber. But such an occurrence is not merely unlikely, it's actually downright impossible. And this leaves us readers with one of two possibilities: 1) just as it would be in the real world, it's impossible that a plane could have scooped up a snorkling Boogie and subsequently dropped him to his death, in which case Barney (heaven forbid!) probably murdered the poor drug-addled sap after all; or 2) Bombardier-brand water bombers, in Barney's Version, counterfactually possess water-intakes large enough to swallow a grown man: thus, Barney's innocent, but the sense of realness I mentioned earlier is somewhat diminished.The first possibility has some interesting consequences. For instance, it means that Barney is even more of an unreliable narrator than we had thought. In light of this chilling revelation, can we trust anything he's told us? And, oh my god, what if Clara didn't truly commit suicide that fateful night in Paris? What if Barney murdered her as well? But sadly, we musn't forget that water bombers were explicitely mentioned earlier in the novel—and morevover, that Barney had a mysterious plane-crash dream on the day of Boogie's disappearance; hence, it becomes clear that this interpretation—as delightfully macabre as it might be—is pretty far-fetched. And so alas, all that remains for us is the second possibility. I fully realize, of course, that it's probably ridiculous of me to let something as silly as a confuted urban legend spoil—even marginally—a work of literature as accomplished as Barney's Version. But then again, I think that's exactly why it bothers me so much. (hide spoiler)]
E così, durante un estenuante viaggio in treno, ieri ho finito questo romanzo che mi ha accompagnata per più di un mese e le cui pagine ho cercato di centellinare sino alla fine, quando ormai la finitudine delle cose terrestri mi ha costretto a farmi una ragione che anche questa lettura sia volta al termine. Mordecai Richler è un furbacchione che la vita l'ha presa in giro, si è voluto raccontare, ma senza esporsi troppo e così, nonostante varie smentite, ha inventato il personaggio di Barney Panofsky e gli ha fatto raccontare la versione, che in realtà è la versione di Mordecai. E che, sopratutto, è una versione strabiliante. Barney è ebreo, è politicamente scorretto, si è arricchito con metodi poco leciti, e poi ha dato nascita ad un canale televisivo scadente e mediocre che l'ha reso miliardario. Osteggiato dai compari di bevute, i quali appartengono tutti ai piani alti della letteratura parigina degli anni '50, inevitabilmente amici di Hemingway, e non fanno che ricordargli la sua sterilità poetica, accusato di omicidio e assolto nel processo, Barney decide di tripartirsi e raccontarsi tramite i suoi tre matrimoni. Quello con Clara, artista incompresa, ninfomane e cleptomane, destinata alla celebrità post mortem, quello con la Seconda Signora Panofsky, ricca ebrea laureata a pieni voti alla McGill e, da ultima, ma non per importanza, Miriama, adorata Miriam. Il racconto che si dipana tramite questi tre rapporti coniugali è un racconto di tranelli, inganni temporali, lavorio mentale del narratore furbetto che sa cosa mettere in luce e cosa tenere in ombra, con sprazzi di onestà, e slanci di pentimento. La passione smodata per l'hockey, per il bere, per uno stile di vita libertino, per le questioni politiche del suo amato/odiato Canada, la permanenza nella Parigi che a metà anni Cinquanta ha prodotto l'illusione che bastasse la volontà di essere artista per esserlo, la posizione satirica di critica nei confronti del mondo semita di appartenenza, fanno di Barney un personaggio vero e completo, sempre pronto a tirare un asso fuori dal manico per stupire ed intrigare i lettori. E come se tutto questo non bastasse, i due pilastri del romanzo, Miriam e l'omicidio di Boogie diventano talmente fitti di dettagli profondi da far sentire il lettore partecipe come se si stesse preoccupando degli affari di un amico. Ed è così che mi sento adesso che ho finito la lettura, mi sento di aver perso un amico, scorbutico, politicamente scorretto, ma incredibilmente umano e capace di amore. Dalla più efferata delle gioventù, sino ad un tremendo Alzheimer, in questo libro c'è tutto, dalle risate, alle lacrime, dal ripudio alla commozione. Non so, siete ovviamente liberi di non leggerlo, ma non potreste neanche immaginare quanto vi arricchireste una volta arrivati a pagina 484. Grazie, Barney.
Do You like book Barney's Version (1997)?
This book is so funny at some parts I almost fell down laughing in the subway reading it - no easy feat as it is quite crowded in there and Torontonians are disgruntled by the sound of unbridled joy in others.He has so many extra little jokes in it, from the footnotes later added to Barney's manuscript by his perfectionist son, to the impact of Barney's fading memory, to how he feels about Toronto and Canadian culture. It is packed with Richler's intelligent and at times eviscerating sense of humour....but at the same time there were passages about love that just devastated me.I waited forever to finish this book because I didn't want to end my relationship with the character, I knew I would miss him and I did - I cried at the end, without feeling manipulated, and I paid to have the book mailed thousands of miles because I didn't want to part with it.It was a more emotional book than I anticipated, but bright, vicious, witty, honest - everything you would expect.
—kate
La Versione di Barney mi ha seguito in due traslochi, ha vissuto un paio d’anni rinchiuso in garage in attesa della sua collocazione definitiva. Si è salvato dalla purga dei libri inutili prima dell’ultimo trasloco solo perché me lo aveva regalato una cara amica. Non avevo neanche intenzione di leggerlo e poi ho cambiato idea. Un inizio difficile ma che è diventato un grande amore ! Mi piace lo stile che non segue un rigoroso ordine cronologico ma riflette l’ordine dei pensieri così come si presentano alla coscienza del protagonista. La sensazione è di sapere tutto sin dall’inizio: tre mogli, due non amate (per usare un eufemismo) e la terza amata e perduta, un simpatico mascalzone che ci racconta la sua vita, una vicenda giudiziaria finita bene. Allora perché andare avanti? Me lo sono chiesta diverse volte nel corso della lettura: saranno 500 pagine in cui gli stessi avvenimenti saranno raccontati più e più volte? Ma alla fine del primo capitolo un vero colpo di scena! E allora diventa chiaro che le sorprese non sono finite. Le stesse vicende sono raccontate aggiungendo ogni volta dei particolari, arricchendo i fatti con lo stato d’animo dei protagonisti. Man Mano che sono andata avanti nella lettura, ha acquisito senso il titolo: quello che leggiamo non è detto che sia la verità dei fatti (ma del resto a chi importa?) ma la realtà come Barney l’ha vissuta o come avrebbe voluta viverla! Ma la sua versione è certamente accattivante e si finisce per provare simpatia per questo uomo che a poco a poco si svela anche se bisogna aspettare sino alla fine per capire Barney, quando lui stesso cerca di andare oltre la sua versione e di comporre, come in un puzzle, la sua versione con le versioni degli altri per giungere alla verità dei fatti.
—Patrizia O
I read Barney's Version the novel because I loved the movie. Clearly, Richler's story is far & away better than the adaptation, but I must say that the film is true to the spirit of the book & Paul Giamatti does make an excellent Barney.From the opening lines of the story, Richler gives us a gruff, complicated yet sympathetic Barney Panofsky. Writing that comes off so effortlessly cadenced can only be an indication of a writer at the top of his game. Richler's ear for dialogue & voice seems faultless. Whether it's Barney mangling literary references, Duddy Kravitz sarcastically pitching a banquet dinner for Crohn's disease or the Panofsky children persuading their parents to recount the story of how they fell in love, the language is distinct, moving & pure fun to enjoy.Another writer (Flannery O'Connor, I think) once said that you must give even your most unfortunate characters depth so the reader can feel for them. In Barney's Version, one of the most despised character is the Second Ms. Panofsky. Shallow, nameless, vindictive & every inch the cliche of a JAP, Richler is still able to make her a full character by showing her attempts to make her doomed marriage work. Even Barney, who is irreverent, vitriolic & self-loathing, never completely alienates the reader. This considered regard for all of his characters pays off in unexpected ways. As much as Barney mocks feminism & its attempts to "make a space for wimyn" in dominant culture, Richler's characters are so detailed that his females almost feel like a quick study of feminist thought. (I say almost, because I don't think Richler set out with that angle in mind & also it seems a little silly to say a book about a man who loses three wives through his misbehaviors is feminist.) Even Barney's middle school teacher, who is his favorite masturbatory fantasy, is not limited to Barney's narrow view of her. He sees her in the street, old but still active, protesting with other senior citizens for accessible facilities, concerned with her own life.To be honest, I could go on. Barney's Version is a great story about love, maturity & choice. There is a line in the movie that I didn't come across in the text that goes, "Life is made up of little things: minutes, hours, naps, errands, routine. It has to be enough." Barney's Version, the novel, proves this to be true. Life is those small moments, those "fateful objects" that redeem us or break us. The missed message begging for reconciliation, the plane that passes over where you are, a package you deliver to a stranger, the funeral you attend even though the deceased hated you. We carry the consequences forward, struggling against them, capable of great regret & precious change.
—Elizabeth
