StartseiteGruppenForumMehrZeitgeist
Web-Site durchsuchen
Diese Seite verwendet Cookies für unsere Dienste, zur Verbesserung unserer Leistungen, für Analytik und (falls Sie nicht eingeloggt sind) für Werbung. Indem Sie LibraryThing nutzen, erklären Sie dass Sie unsere Nutzungsbedingungen und Datenschutzrichtlinie gelesen und verstanden haben. Die Nutzung unserer Webseite und Dienste unterliegt diesen Richtlinien und Geschäftsbedingungen.
Hide this

Ergebnisse von Google Books

Auf ein Miniaturbild klicken, um zu Google Books zu gelangen.

Troubles: Winner of the 2010 Lost Man…
Lädt ...

Troubles: Winner of the 2010 "Lost Man Booker Prize" for Fiction (Empire… (Original 1970; 2002. Auflage)

von J G Farrell (Autor)

MitgliederRezensionenBeliebtheitDurchschnittliche BewertungDiskussionen / Diskussionen
1,2054211,863 (4)1 / 493
1919: After surviving the Great War, Major Brendan Archer makes his way to Ireland, hoping to discover whether he is indeed betrothed to Angela Spencer, whose Anglo-Irish family owns the once aptly-named Majestic Hotel in Kilnalough. But his fiancee is strangely altered and her family's fortunes have suffered a spectacular decline. The hotel's hundreds of rooms are disintegrating on a grand scale; its few remaining guests thrive on rumors and games of whist; herds of cats have taken over the Imperial Bar and the upper stories; bamboo shoots threaten the foundations; and piglets frolic in the squash court. Meanwhile, the Major is captivated by the beautiful and bitter Sarah Devlin. As housekeeping disasters force him from room to room, outside the order of the British Empire also totters; there is unrest in the East, and in Ireland itself the mounting violence of "the troubles."… (mehr)
Mitglied:giovannaz63
Titel:Troubles: Winner of the 2010 "Lost Man Booker Prize" for Fiction (Empire Trilogy)
Autoren:J G Farrell (Autor)
Info:New York Review of Books (2002), Edition: Reprint, 480 pages
Sammlungen:Deine Bibliothek
Bewertung:
Tags:to-read

Werk-Details

Troubles von J. G. Farrell (1970)

Lädt ...

Melde dich bei LibraryThing an um herauszufinden, ob du dieses Buch mögen würdest.

For my reactions to all the Booker Prize winners, see my blog www.methodtohermadness.com

Welcome to the Hotel Majestic, English-owned luxury hotel in Ireland, once grand, now crumbling. Welcome to the sun setting on the British Empire.

Major Brendan Archer, English WWI veteran, has come to the Hotel Majestic in 1919 to make good on a hasty engagement entered into during a brief R&R. Sadly, the young lady has fallen fatally ill, but by the time she passes on, the Major has become as much as fixture in the place as its statue of Venus and can’t tear himself away.

The hotel teems with metaphor: green-eyed ginger (Irish) cats multiply and lord it over hapless (English) dogs, who are fed steak while locals starve. A Sinn Feiner tries to bomb a statue of Queen Victoria. Tropical trees (African and Asian colonies) grow out of control in the Palm Room, tearing down the Empire -- I mean, the Majestic.

The Major, however, stubbornly walks a fine line, trying to maintain the peace and see everyone’s side. Alternately naïve and noble, he counters the reactionary Tory hotel owner with a voice of reason. He’s a likable character, except for his inertia. If he were a real person, I’d be fed up with him after fifty pages, but he is a necessary witness to the quickly declining situation.

Finally, the Major has an epiphany about the owner’s belligerence, and the belligerence of colonists everywhere: they are afraid. Britain is terrified, and lashes out in revenge for all it has lost, blindly overlooking all it has taken from the Irish and the rest of the world.

The tale, as labyrinthine as the old hotel, is punctuated with news items, usually one about “the troubles” in Ireland coupled with one from another hot spot in the soon-to-be-former British Empire, such as India or South Africa.

Much like the first Booker Prize winner, Something to Answer For, which is set in Egypt during the Suez Canal Crisis, Troubles shows that British authors of the 1960s and 70s were preoccupied with post-colonial issues. I prefer Farrell’s take. Though both their protagonists seem to be aimless drifters, unlucky in love, the Major has backbone, the “ramrod posture” that one Irish lass teases him about. He knows right from wrong and speaks his mind, always urging peace.

( )
  stephkaye | Dec 14, 2020 |
I read Farrell's troubles because the Siege of Krishnapur is fantastic, but the book is a comedy, and in the end it sort of nihilistically forgets about every character arc and plot point. It doesnt kill people off or anything, it just doesnt address them, and the comedy isnt funny because of the background tragedy. The romances are unfulfilled, the tension is unreleased.

Its like a book about a decaying corpse, but tries to make unsuccessful jokes about decay being funny, when we know its not. I'm pretty mad it went to such shit so late in the novel, as now I feel like I wasted my time.

oh and btw irish civil war, except it only manifests itself in sexual dilly-dallying with loose women and black and tans, random acts of banditry that end up in wacky but depressing situations, and newspaper clippings. ( )
  billt568 | Aug 25, 2020 |
Oh so weird and so funny and soooo weird. Like Cold Comfort Farm plus Gormenghast plus Evelyn Waugh plus the Troubles. ( )
1 abstimmen JBD1 | Aug 23, 2020 |
I’m finding it quite challenging to explain why it is that I liked Troubles as much as I did. Honestly, I don’t know why. I can’t seem to find rational arguments to make sense of it.

The fact that the introduction to the edition I read was written by John Banville, one of my favorite novelists, certainly predisposed me!

Reading Troubles reminded me of my first experience as an actor encountering the dramatic works of Samuel Beckett. In college, my acting class spent a semester working on Beckett. While we all developed a great deal of vocal control and learned important lessons about physicality, most of my classmates didn’t actually like Beckett’s pieces. They just didn’t click with his work.

I did. To an almost shocking degree. To a degree approaching religious mania. It’s not an exaggeration to say that Beckett was, for me, a revelation and a rapture. And I’ll be damned if I can tell you why. I thrill to his words, his sounds and images, on a primal, visceral level. Despite years of familiarity with his work, if you asked me, right now, to write a paper analyzing it – I couldn’t do it. I don’t know what any of it means, I just know that I love it.

So I can’t really tell you why I love Troubles as much as I do. I just know that I found it quite powerful. And I don’t think it’s a coincidence that it puts me in mind of Beckett. It also puts me in mind of Joyce, and Banville. All Irish writers.

In my experience, Irish literature is amongst the most challenging for Western readers. The underlying precepts and fundamental paradigms of Irish literature are different than those found in much of the writing that comes from elsewhere in Europe. At the risk of being overly corny – Irish storytellers never lost their sense of the Faery. Not fairy, in the sense of cherubic sprites; but Faery, as in absolutely alien, dangerous, and powerful beings who can – and do – mess around with people’s lives for their own unknowable ends. [Those of you who’ve read Jonahtan Strange & Mr Norrell, you know exactly what I mean.] The history of Ireland is one of near constant subjugation: first the Angles, Celts, and Vikings; then the Romans; the Saxons; the British… The Irish never lost their bedrock certainty that their lives are subject to the whims of outsiders with power beyond their control. The prehistoric legend of Faery resonates in Ireland, still. Consequently, Irish stories tend to have a sense of disorientation, the world is subtly alien, and characters bizarrely have little control over their actions.

I love Irish literature. I was exposed to it at a fairly young age and I’ve been reading Irish authors pretty regularly my whole life. So the unique style and not-quite-normal-Western-culture sense of the world around them is already familiar to me. Reading Troubles felt like encountering an old friend.

Another powerful narrative tradition that runs through Irish literature is the importance of setting. A great deal of Irish storytelling is a meditation on place, where plot and character is secondary. Consider Joyce’s Ulysses – the characters are only important in so far as they relate to Dublin. Take them out of that setting and they cease to have any significant existence or independent reality. There’s certainly an element of this in Troubles. Many of the characters only have identity within the walls of the Majestic; even though the Major travels to London and spends time in Kilnalough, the core of his character is inexorably anchored in this hotel. This is why we never learn much about his biography before he arrives there; but once he’s there, we never escape his thoughts and spend the entire novel living inside his head. The Majestic reminds me more than a little of Gormenghast Castle in the Gormenghast Novels by Mervyn Peake.

Troubles isn’t, however, just a meditation on setting. In the Majestic and the various people caught in its gravity, it offers a surreal foil to the Irish Troubles of both the early 1920s (when the novel is set) and the early ‘70s (when it was written). The confusion of action and choice in the characters; the sense of disconnection between the denizens of the Majestic and the reality of political upheaval in Ireland; the shock and alien-ness experienced by both the characters and the reader when that reality violently imposes itself on them; the sense of inevitability in even the most bizarre occurrences; it’s a wonderful way to capture the profound sense of disorientation and anxiety of most Irish people during those times. No one knew what was going on, or why, or how things could have gotten that bad. The Majestic itself is a pretty obvious metaphor for the increasing irrelevancy and collapse of the British Empire: it starts out as a quaint – if somewhat worse for wear – romantic anachronism, a reminder of greater days gone by; by the end, though, it’s falling apart around everyone’s ears and ultimately gets burned down by the natives, a violent refusal against its continued existence.

Finally, what drove the book for me was the suspense – we learn on the very first page that the hotel burns down a few years after the Spencers take over management. Every time something untoward happens – and, therefore, with increasing frequency as the novel progresses – we wonder if this is when the conflagration will occur. ( )
  johnthelibrarian | Aug 11, 2020 |
After WWI, an English Major goes to Ireland to marry his fiance, a woman he has corresponded with for years but has barely met in person. Her family owns the Majestic Hotel, a huge and formerly glorious hotel that suffers from neglect and is falling apart. The Major stays in the hotel for a few years as it crumbles around him and its primarily English residents. Meanwhile, The Troubles are happening, and the English bemoan the incivility of the Irish.

This is one of those books where not much happens - it's a long, slow burn (perhaps too long). The writing is good, the humor is droll, and the symbolism of the decaying hotel is appropriately ponderous. It's a bit of a class satire as the English cower in fear from the Irish and get increasingly irrational in their retaliation. It's mostly the writing that makes this book worth reading: the writing is deceptively simple and very engaging. ( )
  Gwendydd | Mar 19, 2019 |
Du musst dich einloggen, um "Wissenswertes" zu bearbeiten.
Weitere Hilfe gibt es auf der "Wissenswertes"-Hilfe-Seite.
Gebräuchlichster Titel
Die Informationen stammen von der englischen "Wissenswertes"-Seite. Ändern, um den Eintrag der eigenen Sprache anzupassen.
Originaltitel
Alternative Titel
Ursprüngliches Erscheinungsdatum
Figuren/Charaktere
Die Informationen stammen von der englischen "Wissenswertes"-Seite. Ändern, um den Eintrag der eigenen Sprache anzupassen.
Wichtige Schauplätze
Die Informationen stammen von der englischen "Wissenswertes"-Seite. Ändern, um den Eintrag der eigenen Sprache anzupassen.
Wichtige Ereignisse
Die Informationen stammen von der englischen "Wissenswertes"-Seite. Ändern, um den Eintrag der eigenen Sprache anzupassen.
Zugehörige Filme
Preise und Auszeichnungen
Die Informationen stammen von der englischen "Wissenswertes"-Seite. Ändern, um den Eintrag der eigenen Sprache anzupassen.
Epigraph (Motto/Zitat)
Widmung
Erste Worte
Die Informationen stammen von der englischen "Wissenswertes"-Seite. Ändern, um den Eintrag der eigenen Sprache anzupassen.
In those days the Majestic was still standing in Kilnalough at the very end of a slim peninsula covered with dead pines leaning here and there at odd angles.
Zitate
Die Informationen stammen von der englischen "Wissenswertes"-Seite. Ändern, um den Eintrag der eigenen Sprache anzupassen.
“People are insubstantial. They never last. All this fuss, it’s all fuss about nothing. We’re here for a while and then we’re gone. People are insubstantial. They never last at all.”
Letzte Worte
Die Informationen stammen von der englischen "Wissenswertes"-Seite. Ändern, um den Eintrag der eigenen Sprache anzupassen.
(Zum Anzeigen anklicken. Warnung: Enthält möglicherweise Spoiler.)
Hinweis zur Identitätsklärung
Verlagslektoren
Klappentexte von
Originalsprache
Anerkannter DDC/MDS

Literaturhinweise zu diesem Werk aus externen Quellen.

Wikipedia auf Englisch (1)

1919: After surviving the Great War, Major Brendan Archer makes his way to Ireland, hoping to discover whether he is indeed betrothed to Angela Spencer, whose Anglo-Irish family owns the once aptly-named Majestic Hotel in Kilnalough. But his fiancee is strangely altered and her family's fortunes have suffered a spectacular decline. The hotel's hundreds of rooms are disintegrating on a grand scale; its few remaining guests thrive on rumors and games of whist; herds of cats have taken over the Imperial Bar and the upper stories; bamboo shoots threaten the foundations; and piglets frolic in the squash court. Meanwhile, the Major is captivated by the beautiful and bitter Sarah Devlin. As housekeeping disasters force him from room to room, outside the order of the British Empire also totters; there is unrest in the East, and in Ireland itself the mounting violence of "the troubles."

Keine Bibliotheksbeschreibungen gefunden.

Buchbeschreibung
Zusammenfassung in Haiku-Form

Gespeicherte Links

Beliebte Umschlagbilder

Bewertung

Durchschnitt: (4)
0.5
1
1.5
2 7
2.5 7
3 38
3.5 24
4 80
4.5 27
5 62

NYRB Classics

Eine Ausgabe dieses Buches wurde NYRB Classics herausgegeben.

» Verlagsinformations-Seite

Bist das du?

Werde ein LibraryThing-Autor.

 

Über uns | Kontakt/Impressum | LibraryThing.com | Datenschutz/Nutzungsbedingungen | Hilfe/FAQs | Blog | "Gschäfterl" | APIs | TinyCat | Nachlassbibliotheken | Early Reviewers | Wissenswertes | 157,108,177 Bücher! | Menüleiste: Immer sichtbar