About book The Narrative Of Arthur Gordon Pym Of Nantucket (1999)
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.
LIBRO AÚN NO TERMINADO///////NOTAS DE USO PERSONALC1Extraordinario inicio de novela en el que el protagonista (Pym) –hijo de un mercader de la isla de Nantucket– narra una anécdota muy similar a la que se relata en 'MS Found in a Bottle' –la primera historia que le dio algo de dinero a Poe– en la que un barco pequeño tripulado por Pym y su amigo Augustus, ambos borrachos por una fiesta tras la que decidieron irresponsablemente hacerse a la mar, es arrollado por un enorme ballenero que milagrosamente ve a los dos sobrevivientes entre las aguas y los rescata tras un intento de motín ya que el capitán no quería detenerse. La narración es extraordinaria y constituye el elemento central del inicio de las fantasías marítimas de Pym.C2 Pym, excitado por su primera aventura marítima, decide embarcarse como polizón –ya que sus familiares se oponen– en un barco comandado por el padre de Augustus. Éste le instala una diminuta habitación en un cuarto de lastre del barco. Debe pasar varios días encerrado hasta que sea imposible que el barco regrese. Su amigo le deja provisiones de agua y carne, pero el agua se acaba y la carne se pudre. La narrativa del horror de estar "enterrado vivo" en ese habitáculo sin comida y agua es extraordinaria. Al final, como por obra divina aparece Tiger, su fiel perro con una carta y un cordel atado al cuerpo.Cabe destacar la extraordinaria alucinación/sueño provocada por la sed y el hambre, en la que Pym se imagina en un desierto rodeado de árboles antropomorfos.También es maravillosa la forma en la que aborda los cambios psíquicos que vienen del aislamiento. El protagonista por momentos cae en un estado de "estupidez": no puede procesar pensamientos ni su memoria correctamente.C3 Capítulo terriblemente angustiante. Pym no puede leer la carta por la oscuridad. El perro se ha comido las velas y sólo queda un poco de fósforo. Lo frota y ve que no hay nada escrito. La decepción lo hace romper la hoja y tirarla, pero luego se da cuenta que pudo haber estado escrita por el otro lado. Encuentra un pedazo y el perro le trae los otros dos. Usa el poco fósforo que queda y alcanza a leer sólo "blood–your life depends upon lying close".Se desanima. El perro sin embargo se comporta ahora por el hambre de forma perturbadora. Al final el perro lo ataca y Pym consigue encerrarlo, perdiendo lo poco de jamón que le quedaba y quedándose sólo con una botella de licor. Se la bebe y estrella la botella en el piso. Augustus lo escucha y llama, pero Pym se queda mudo de la impresión (maldito Poe jaja). Al final lo encuentra cuando el nivel de tensión es máximo. El primer trago de agua es descrito de forma tan hermosa que provoca sed. Chulada de capítulo.C4Capítulo de transición. Augustus narra la forma en la que tras dejar a Pym abajo, el barco sarpó para eventualmente ser presa de un motín. Los del motín asesinan a gran parte de la tripulación y sueltan en un bote al capitán y un par de navegantes más. Augustus se salva por intercesión de un negro amotinado: Dirk Peters, que lo toma como ayudante. Augustus descubre que la habitación donde está la trampilla que lleva a Pym está bloqueada porque almacenaron cosas en ella. El líder lo ve husmeando y lo esposa y le prohíbe salir a cubierta.C5Augustus se las ingenia para escapar de su cautiverio e ir en busca de Pym. Tras una meticulosa narrativa de Poe sobre los métodos que usa Augustus para safarse de las esposas y entrar en la zona de lastre del barco, así como la forma en la que trajo a Tiger (el perro de Pym) reencontrándolo tras el motín, el protagonista entra en contacto con Pym llegando al punto donde termina el C3.
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I cannot believe that Jules Verne was inspired by this nonsense. I am very rarely tempted to put a book down before finishing this, but several times throughout the novel I just didn't know how I would go on. There were painful page-long descriptions on boats and sailing, which, as the main character wasn't really a professional sailor and seemed completely inept in the first bit of the story, seemed completely implausible, and only served to distract from the only good part of the novel: the adventure itself. The need to find out where they would end up and how Pym would get back to Nantucket was the only thing that pulled me through the novel, and even that was denied to me.As for Pym himself, I could not sympathize with him at all. He's completely flat a the beginning, just going along with whatever his friend would have him do with no thought or argument. He only got worse after the storm. Sure, he finally grew a backbone, but he didn't seem to care that his dog (that saved his life twice!) and then his best friend were dead. Instead, he was perfectly happy to go galavanting around Antarctica, playing with the lives of strangers.I was always a fan of Poe, but this was by far, the worst work of his I have ever read. I can't wait to go back to his short stories.
—Kori Klinzing
O primeiro livro de Edgar Allan Poe que eu leio! E para primeiro aqui está um que já ficou nos meus favoritos. Este livro é extremamente interessante, com um final surpreendente e nada, nada, esperado...completamente "surreal". Este livro conta as aventuras de Gordon Pym, um jovem rapaz. O livro é contado por Pym, posteriormente à aventura que viveu no mar. Ou seja, a aventura começou no ano de 1827 e o relato é feito em 1838. Neste relato, Pym conta como começou as suas aventuras. Fala da amizade entre ele e um rapaz dois anos mais velho, Augustus, filho de um capitão de baleeiro, que já tinha feito uma viagem com o pai, no barco, pelo Pacifico Sul. Pym depressa começa a acalentar a esperança de ir, um dia, para o mar e fazer uma grande e extraordinária viagem. Certo dia, Augustus informa-o de que vai com o pai (e a equipagem) para o mar e convida Pym. No entanto a família de Pym não o deixa ir. Mas como o desejo de Pym era enorme, Augustus e ele decidem traçar um plano e Pym embarca no navio, escondido no porão, dentro de uma caixa com grades e um espaço para ele se deitar. O plano é, depois de estarem em alto mar, fora da vista de terra, Augustus manda Pym sair do esconderijo e apresentar-se ao pai de Augustus e a toda a tripulação. Desta forma, fora do alcance da terra, todos têm de se conformar com Pym a bordo. E a família de Pym, estaria descansada, a pensar que ele estava na casa de um familiar (Augustus forjara uma carta desse parente).Mas o tempo começa a passar e Augustus não desce ao porão...a água desaparece, a comida também. Pym fica doente e começa a pensar que o amigo o abandonou. Tempos depois, recebe a visita de Tigre, o seu cão de estimação (que Augustus tinha levado para o barco). Atado ao cão está um papel escrito a vermelho, que avisa Pym para algo de errado a bordo. E Pym continua no seu esconderijo...cada vez pior. Até ao dia em que Augustos finalmente aparece e lhe conta que o barco foi alvo de um motim. Muitas outras aventuras acontecem e o relato prossegue, cheio de detalhes e aventuras. Pym, Augustus e Peters (um homem meio louco, ou não) decidem tomar o barco de novo. E conseguem, fazendo um refém, Richard Parker. No entanto, uma enorme tempestade abate-se sobre o barco e vêm-se à deriva, num barco desfeito. Assim ficam durante muitos e muitos dias...Mas a viagem não termina. E muitas aventuras esperam por Pym no Polo Sul. Numa época em que o Polo Sul era um mistério, numa época em que a teria Hollow Earth fazia parte da realidade das pessoas, muitos eram os mistérios que acompanhavam a mente dos navegadores. Até ao centro do Polo Sul, assim quer Arthur Gordon Pym. E assim é este livro. Uma escrita muito descritiva, mas muito interessante e cheia de factos importantes e curiosidades que não faz mal nenhum saber, antes pelo contrário. Um livro com História real no seu conteúdo. Uma história extraordinária, cheia de aventuras e de acontecimentos misteriosos. E com um final...simplesmente bem conseguido, para suspense total. Recomendo a todos! No blog:http://oimaginariodoslivros.blogspot....
—Molly
I was inspired to read this (Poe's only novel) by an article in the New York Review of Books by Marilynne Robinson, praising both it and Poe very highly, and noting that unlike all his stories written before this novel, the stories written after it depict "the inescapable confrontation of the self by a perfect justice, the exposure of a guilty act in a form that makes its revelation a recoil of the mind against itself." The act of writing this novel was apparently a turning point for Poe. Maybe. But she doesn't note that the novel also shows obvious signs of having been written carelessly and in haste with little idea at the outset of where it would eventually go, and that it treads water for many pages, leading the reader to doubt that Poe had any plan at all. It also contains much confusing and probably incorrect nautical description (where is Patrick O'Brian when we need him?), and long descriptions of flora and fauna irrelevant to the action and sounding copied from a textbook. Many Goodreads reviewers also complain that it is racist; but Robinson makes the case for just the opposite view, indicating that the "savages" Pym encounters are much more complicated than he or his shipmates imagine, and that (as in Moby Dick) white is often a very ominous color. I'm glad I read this, but I'm not sure I can agree with all of Robinson's judgments about it.
—Jon
