Tämä sivusto käyttää evästeitä palvelujen toimittamiseen, toiminnan parantamiseen, analytiikkaan ja (jos et ole kirjautunut sisään) mainostamiseen. Käyttämällä LibraryThingiä ilmaiset, että olet lukenut ja ymmärtänyt käyttöehdot ja yksityisyydensuojakäytännöt. Sivujen ja palveluiden käytön tulee olla näiden ehtojen ja käytäntöjen mukaista.
The protagonist-narrator of The Invented Part and The Dreamed Part returns to find an answer the question: how does a writer remember? In particular, how does a he--a writer who no longer writes but can't stop reading and rereading himself--remember. The Writer takes us hurtling through the refracted funhouse of his recursive and referential-maniac mind with a host of debut performances and redux appearances: the howling ghost of electricity and the defective Mr. Trip; the wuthering and heightened Penelope and her lost son; 2001: A Space Odyssey and Blade Runner; the absent Pertusato, Nicolasito and the omnipresent IKEA; the dead Colma, the deceased ZZYZX, the departed Nothing, and the immortal Sad Songs; the irrealist Vladimir Nabokov and the surrealist Karmas; Wish You Were Here playing on (im)mobil(izing) phones and Dracula being invited in; the disturbed Uncle Hey Walrus and parents who are models but not at all model parents; The Beatles and The Beatles; a nonexistent country of origin and a city in flames; an unforgettable night that wants nothing more than to be rewritten; and so many more accelerated particles and freewheeling fragments and interlinked cells searching for a storyline to give them some structure, some meaning. With mordant wit, capacious intelligence, and vertiginous prose, The Remembered Part closes Rodrigo Fresán's sprawling tryptic novel. A novel that has at its heart the three component parts of literary creation, the engines that drive the writing of fictional lives and the narration of real works of art: invention, dream, and memory. It is a masterpiece by one of contemporary literature's most daring and innovative writers.… (lisätietoja)
Tiedot englanninkielisestä Yhteisestä tiedosta.Muokkaa kotoistaaksesi se omalle kielellesi.
Memory believes before knowing remembers. --William Faulkner, Light in August
For with the perturbations of memory are linked the intermittencies of the heart. [...]A sleeping man holds in a circle around him the sequence of the hours, the order of the years and worlds. He consults them instinctively as he wakes and reads in a second the point on the earth he occupies, the time that has elapsed before his waking; but their ranks can be mixed up, broken. [...] There are optical errors in time as there are in space [...] As there is a geometry in space, so there is a psychology in time, in which the calculations of a plane psychology would no longer be accurate because we should not be taking into account time and one of the forms that it assumes, oblivion. [...] Love is space and time measured by the heart. --Marcel Proust,In Search of Lost Time
I think it is all a matter of love; the more you love a memory the stronger and stronger it becomes. [...] An image depends on the power of association, and association is supplied and prompted by memory. When we speak of a vivid individual recollection we are paying a compliment not to our capacity of retention but to Mnemosyne's mysterious foresight in having stored up this or that element which creative imagination may want to use when combining it with later recollections and inventions. In this sense, both memory and imagination are a negation of time. --Vladimir Nabokov Strong Opinions
If any one faculty of our nature may be called more wonderful than the rest, I do think it is memory. There seems something more speakingly incomprehensible in the powers, the failures, the inequalities of memory, than in any other of our intelligences. The memory is sometimes so retentive, so serviceable, so obedient--at others, so bewildered and so weak--and at others again, so tyrannic, so beyond control!--We are to be sure a miracle in every way--but our powers of recollecting and of forgetting, do seem peculiarly past finding out. --Jane Austen Mansfield Park
I'm afraid...I'm afraid...My mind is going...I can feel it...I can feel it...My mind is going...I can feel it...There is no question about it...I can feel it...I can feel it...I can feel it ...I'm a...fraid. Good afternoon, gentlemen. I am a HAL 9000 computer. I became operational at the H.A.L. plant in Urbana, Illinois on the 12th of January 1992. My instructor was Mr. Langley, and he taught me to sing a song. If you'd liek to hear it I can sing it for you. --HAL 9000 2001: A Space Odyssey
Remember when you were young, you shone like the sun There is no pain, you are receding. --Pink Floyd "Shine On You Crazy Diamond / Part IV" and "Comfortably Numb"
Part I Epigraphs
We look at the world once, in childhood. The rest is memory. --Louise Glück, "Nostos"
All time is all time. It does not change. It does not lend itself to warnings or explanations. It simply is. --Kurt Vonnegut, Slaughterhouse-Five
I like to remember things my own way. How I remembered them, not necessarily the way they happened. --David Lynch,Lost Highway
He had no coherent memory for ecstasy or pain, but an acute experience of either was a sudden revelation of the sum of his memory. The present seemed like some modest, lighted table at which four people played Russian bank, but beyond them was some dark cavernous backstage, hung with sandbags and the scenery for yesterday's garden and tomorrow's forest. The present claimed to be supreme, but the truth seemed to lie somewhere between the lighted card table and the cavernous wilderness. --John Cheever, Journals
Art consists of the persistence of memory. Because writers remember everything. Especially the hurts. Strip a writer to the buff, point to the scars, and he'll tell you the story of each small one. From the big ones you get novels, not amnesia. A little talent is a nice thing to have if you want to be a writer, but the real requirement is that ability to remember the story of every scar. --Stephen King, Misery
We can't always tell the whole story about ourselves. The Past just left. Its remnants, I claim, are mostly fiction. --Denis Johnson, Tree of Smoke and "Doppelgänger, Poltergeist"
Omistuskirjoitus
Tiedot englanninkielisestä Yhteisestä tiedosta.Muokkaa kotoistaaksesi se omalle kielellesi.
For Ana and Daniel: unforgettable, all the time and in all times before and now and forever
†*
For Claudio: never forgotten
Ensimmäiset sanat
Tiedot englanninkielisestä Yhteisestä tiedosta.Muokkaa kotoistaaksesi se omalle kielellesi.
How to go on--now that everything that has to happen has happened--and come to the end; the end being, he remembers now, all that's left to come to pass, the last thing to become present and future.
Sitaatit
Viimeiset sanat
Erotteluhuomautus
Julkaisutoimittajat
Kirjan kehujat
Alkuteoksen kieli
Kanoninen DDC/MDS
Kanoninen LCC
▾Viitteet
Viittaukset tähän teokseen muissa lähteissä.
Englanninkielinen Wikipedia
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▾Kirjojen kuvailuja
The protagonist-narrator of The Invented Part and The Dreamed Part returns to find an answer the question: how does a writer remember? In particular, how does a he--a writer who no longer writes but can't stop reading and rereading himself--remember. The Writer takes us hurtling through the refracted funhouse of his recursive and referential-maniac mind with a host of debut performances and redux appearances: the howling ghost of electricity and the defective Mr. Trip; the wuthering and heightened Penelope and her lost son; 2001: A Space Odyssey and Blade Runner; the absent Pertusato, Nicolasito and the omnipresent IKEA; the dead Colma, the deceased ZZYZX, the departed Nothing, and the immortal Sad Songs; the irrealist Vladimir Nabokov and the surrealist Karmas; Wish You Were Here playing on (im)mobil(izing) phones and Dracula being invited in; the disturbed Uncle Hey Walrus and parents who are models but not at all model parents; The Beatles and The Beatles; a nonexistent country of origin and a city in flames; an unforgettable night that wants nothing more than to be rewritten; and so many more accelerated particles and freewheeling fragments and interlinked cells searching for a storyline to give them some structure, some meaning. With mordant wit, capacious intelligence, and vertiginous prose, The Remembered Part closes Rodrigo Fresán's sprawling tryptic novel. A novel that has at its heart the three component parts of literary creation, the engines that drive the writing of fictional lives and the narration of real works of art: invention, dream, and memory. It is a masterpiece by one of contemporary literature's most daring and innovative writers.
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