Grief, on 09 February 2016 - 12:10 AM, said:
stone monkey, on 08 February 2016 - 09:12 PM, said:
I agree, I just don't consider it a strength.
For me,
Pale Fire is an almost perfect example of how an interesting premise can be spoilt by its execution.
I think we have a destination/journey dichotomy going on here.
With Nabokov imo it's not really about whether the character is lying, that's trivially obvious, and not all that important in and of itself. It's about decoding the nature of the lies and how they illuminate the teller's personality. Kinbote in
Pale Fire is telling some whoppers, and we see through those his complete (possibly deliberate, maybe delusional) misunderstanding of Shade, his hubris about his real influence on (next to nothing) and his true friendship with (practically non-existant and stalker-like) the poet, and his self aggrandisement (and possibly delusion) about his place in world. The fact that you know he's lying from the outset shows you what's true. The question that arises is:
does Kinbote believe what he's saying? We know it's false, but does he?
There is fun to be had with an unreliable narrator where the game is to spot them lying, but I'd argue that Nabokov is not even going there. His unreliable narrators, especially Humbert in
Lolita, are seeking to make you, the reader, complicit with them. Nabokov is playing a metafictional game where the reader is in on the trick, he shows you his cards (Kinbote is a nutter, Humbert is a monster), and then dares you not to be taken in by their eloquence; it's pure performance.
Nabokov knows the reader is seeing through his unreliable narrators to the real story he's telling, and better imo he also knows the reader knows he knows.
It reminds me, in a strange way, of Georges Perec's
La Disparition (or
The Exeter Text: Jewels, Secrets,Sex); where the reader understands what needs to be said, but the fun is to be had watching the narrative skirt giddily around it because of the strict formalist limitation placed by the author on the text itself.
But I guess we can always agree to disagree.
This post has been edited by stone monkey: 10 February 2016 - 11:47 PM
If an opinion contrary to your own makes you angry, that is a sign that you are subconsciously aware of having no good reason for thinking as you do. If some one maintains that two and two are five, or that Iceland is on the equator, you feel pity rather than anger, unless you know so little of arithmetic or geography that his opinion shakes your own contrary conviction. … So whenever you find yourself getting angry about a difference of opinion, be on your guard; you will probably find, on examination, that your belief is going beyond what the evidence warrants. Bertrand Russell