Reviews

The Planetarium by Nathalie Sarraute

ralowe's review against another edition

3.0

frederic jameson doesn't seem to feel that so-called "postmodern"ќ novels"У"У"У which jameson exemplifies with those "noveau roman"ќ literary texts produced by ambigramic groups in france like oulipo in the "ч60s"У"У"У are very good. as a well-heeled marxist historian he certainly knows about the post(or anti-)colonial condition of language games at dialectical play in the deployment and reception of the many little manifest destiny master narratives worldwide as catalyst to deconstructive maneuvers in the metropol: these seminal developments may yet hold charge in the present ethical moment as okonkwo continues to choke with hate. aesthetic curiousity has sent me searching for past subject-killing experiments to slide into a vicarious bygone nostalgic feeling maybe. but what's really going on in *the planetarium*? nathalie sarraute's chiding of the purported prison house of bourgeois domesticity and its inimical intergenerational and gendered effects is readable. i guess sarraute's thing is blending dialogue with description (an effect that also disoriented me precisely and repeatedly at the start of any sentence following a quotation-dashed sentence; it didn't help that the first piece of fiction i crossed paths with using this continental style was *ulysses* (again, jameson's amusing remark on the blur between vice versa post and its modern is brought into relief by the fin-de-siМ¬cle stream-of-consciousness waves' ultimate plot twist ambition for the norm)). sarraute erodes the distinction further with such devices as ellipses that faintly recall louis-ferdinand cМ¬line but not really. unlike robbe-grillet this is all interiority while sarraute attempts to chip away at character through style. let me emphasize "attempt"ќ. similar to robbe-grillet there are deinitely anthropomophic and socialized agent-like figures that pass the test for characters in sarraute's text, but our view of them is defamiliarized through style. sarraute's signature style invokes the question of why must novels cleave to a normative stylistic baseline? if jameson's gripe is that the "noveau roman"ќ's project of killing the author is estranged from itself by raising the prominence of stylistic traits associated with specific authors like sarraute and robbe-grillet then i would have to agree on purely arid philosophical grounds. and if postmodernism is supposedly shocked into counter-cultural action by anticolonial solidarity how is subjectivity challenged by the representational paradox of booklength yarns centering the bourgeoisie? as far as a prospective anticolonial aesthetic might be concerned, the efforts of sarraute and robbe-grillet could be considered steps on a path in a generally more useful direction albeit imperfect. the novel was incredibly campy too, as it's about this bratty guy scheming to yank an older female relative's apartment out from underneath her. very san francisco, what with the epidemic of centenarian women dying from eviction. the bourgeoisie here depicted stereotypically obsess endlessly about their bergМ¬res(a kind of fauteuil, apparently). if the allegorical moral concerns alain's idle cannibalism of germaine lemaire then fine, i just wish there was more oomph to the proceedings. "in reality, she doesn't care a rap about people."ќ - pg 146

wmbogart's review against another edition

I still struggle with Sarraute. The characters here are cruel, vindictive, and afraid. The text is written mostly as confused inner monologue. Every character here is prone to catastrophizing around the smallest gesture or faux pas. It makes for (intentionally) tough reading.

Though the perspective shifts between characters, they all have this catastrophizing in common. If it's a comment on a larger bourgeois condition, and I think it must be, it does get a little exhausting after a few hundred pages. Again, intentionally I'm sure.

Each character is loosely aware of their own illness. That's compelling! To recognize your behavior as unwell while it occurs (or even before), and fail to adjust for it, or adjust for it in a way that only makes things worse? These are difficult things.

The self-awareness of each character's reactions and behavior as "incorrect" or bearing the markings of impropriety, weakness, or mania comes and goes. The narration spirals between denial, negotiation, externalization, self-concern, acceptance, and denial again. These thoughts interrupt one another. They clash violently with what came before, and rationalize and disregard themselves from clause to clause. It's an interesting effect. That kind of ever-shifting perspective, blurred and warped in illness, of oneself outside oneself, resonates with me. But sitting down and reading it? Not so fun.

stinkyheronreads's review against another edition

funny mysterious reflective medium-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? Character
• Strong character development? It's complicated
• Loveable characters? It's complicated
• Diverse cast of characters? No
• Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

3.5

An interesting exploration of the depth (shallowness?) of human emotion, insecurity, and our perceptions of one another. The writing style was simultaneously interesting, amusing, and frustrating. 

hanaelle's review against another edition

• Plot- or character-driven? Character
• Strong character development? No
• Loveable characters? Yes

5.0

margaretlevitt's review against another edition

reflective slow-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? Character
• Strong character development? No
• Loveable characters? No
• Diverse cast of characters? No
• Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

2.5

There were some parts that were really good, but ultimately I just didn't like that. Super boring and there was no time spent on the characters I found most interesting. Also was a really random anti-semitic paragraph that came out of nowhere near the end.

frida_funk's review against another edition

challenging

2.0

amkclaes's review against another edition

5.0

not at allll what i was expecting, after having read some of Robbe-Grillet... this was desperate emotion all the way through, a humorous and scathing look at the petit-bourgeois and society of consumption. i want to reread... long passages, one-sided dialogues mixed seamlessly with inner dialogue. it was macabre and evocative, painfully accurate descriptions of social malaise and the codes of the bourgeoisie. i loved it.