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pemdas97's review against another edition
adventurous
challenging
dark
mysterious
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
2.0
gatspender's review
challenging
funny
mysterious
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.75
sjgochenour's review against another edition
5.0
Robert Irwin’s sense of humor and eclecticism is hard to beat. He often focuses on the interesting rather than the beautiful; the first qasida of Imru al-Qays is very moving, but he has a great love for stories of the underworld, swindles and scandals.
(a content warning specifically about the stories of Tanukhi in chapter 3; they include some fairly gruesome murders of women and young men in a pederastic context. It’s hard for a person who hasn’t studied the subject at all to know if this is representative, or if Irwin went out of his way to find examples that would shock.)
Other highlights: an ode to asparagus; an argument by animals against the cruelty of humanity; a discussion of the true nature of love; an afterlife encounter with a woman who worked in the Baghdad library; the poetry of the pre-Islamic tribeswoman al-Khansa and Andalusian princess Wallada; a 12th-century precursor to Robinson Crusoe; a long and peculiar story from the Arabian Nights about three foolish brothers; finishing with a short story of incredible and weird hilarity about the battle between “King Mutton” (personification of rich people food) and “King Honey” (personification of poor people food).
It took me four weeks to read and I will doubtless need to read it again.
(a content warning specifically about the stories of Tanukhi in chapter 3; they include some fairly gruesome murders of women and young men in a pederastic context. It’s hard for a person who hasn’t studied the subject at all to know if this is representative, or if Irwin went out of his way to find examples that would shock.)
Other highlights: an ode to asparagus; an argument by animals against the cruelty of humanity; a discussion of the true nature of love; an afterlife encounter with a woman who worked in the Baghdad library; the poetry of the pre-Islamic tribeswoman al-Khansa and Andalusian princess Wallada; a 12th-century precursor to Robinson Crusoe; a long and peculiar story from the Arabian Nights about three foolish brothers; finishing with a short story of incredible and weird hilarity about the battle between “King Mutton” (personification of rich people food) and “King Honey” (personification of poor people food).
It took me four weeks to read and I will doubtless need to read it again.
vasha's review against another edition
challenging
dark
mysterious
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
4.0
A puzzler of a novel this, intentionally, since it was written in 1983 in the postmodernism wave. It's Irwin's first novel and he was a medievalist before writing it, which sure shows, from the profusion of historical details to the profusion of erudite arguments about the nature of Christ and whatnot.
It's set in Cairo in 1485, the majority of the characters being Christian foreigners. If the physical nature of the city is very concretely depicted, its social reality is not: the city is consistently a relentlessly sexual, repellently alien, and dangerously unknowable fantasyland. This exoticization of a real place rather grated on me, as did the way that women never appear in the story in any context except sexual, or the way that people with disabilities are used as oddities and symbols of distorted reality.
As a philosophical riddle, and as a dark-fantasy horror story, though, did I enjoy it? I suppose so. I wasn't really in the mood for its cleverness but I could recognize it. "Arabian Nightmare" is the name of a horror trope analyzed in a useful short article in the "Encyclopedia of Fantasy": the unease created by stories-within-stories that simply will not reach a conclusion. The Arabian Nights may be a prototype but there, readers have tended to see the collection's open-endedness (constantly having more stories added) as a good thing, a source of infinite possibility. And story cycles within it do conclude, however complexly nested they may be. But Irwin's novel, postmodern as I said, parodies and refuses narrative structure.
Irwin said he'd never read the Arabian Nights before writing "The Arabian Nightmare;" that would explain why there are almost as many references to Poe as to Nights stories in the novel. He clearly had heard of some stories secondhand though. Interestingly, he didn't choose to allude to the ones that are most prominent in pop culture: no flying carpets and no djinn in bottles. Instead, he includes a talking severed head, the Old Man of the Sea who climbs on a passerby's back and won't get off, and an ape which speaks learnedly and plays chess, being actually a transformed prince. All these are quite cleverly employed.
It's set in Cairo in 1485, the majority of the characters being Christian foreigners. If the physical nature of the city is very concretely depicted, its social reality is not: the city is consistently a relentlessly sexual, repellently alien, and dangerously unknowable fantasyland. This exoticization of a real place rather grated on me, as did the way that women never appear in the story in any context except sexual, or the way that people with disabilities are used as oddities and symbols of distorted reality.
As a philosophical riddle, and as a dark-fantasy horror story, though, did I enjoy it? I suppose so. I wasn't really in the mood for its cleverness but I could recognize it. "Arabian Nightmare" is the name of a horror trope analyzed in a useful short article in the "Encyclopedia of Fantasy": the unease created by stories-within-stories that simply will not reach a conclusion. The Arabian Nights may be a prototype but there, readers have tended to see the collection's open-endedness (constantly having more stories added) as a good thing, a source of infinite possibility. And story cycles within it do conclude, however complexly nested they may be. But Irwin's novel, postmodern as I said, parodies and refuses narrative structure.
Irwin said he'd never read the Arabian Nights before writing "The Arabian Nightmare;" that would explain why there are almost as many references to Poe as to Nights stories in the novel. He clearly had heard of some stories secondhand though. Interestingly, he didn't choose to allude to the ones that are most prominent in pop culture: no flying carpets and no djinn in bottles. Instead, he includes a talking severed head, the Old Man of the Sea who climbs on a passerby's back and won't get off, and an ape which speaks learnedly and plays chess, being actually a transformed prince. All these are quite cleverly employed.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Blood, Violence, Vomit, Torture, Drug abuse, and Body horror
Moderate: Sexual content, Xenophobia, and Rape
Minor: Adult/minor relationship and Incest
bronkmb's review against another edition
5.0
Absolutely intriguing, and a brilliant way of employing dreams / dreaming.
labhaoiseseoighe's review against another edition
5.0
wow just wow. I'm rendered speechless after finishing this book.
captainfez's review against another edition
3.0
I'd been meaning to read this for a long time. When I first began to read some stranger fiction - the first time I discovered the Dedalus imprint, I think - I saw The Arabian Nightmare recommended highly. It's one of those books which has attained cult status - and pretty reasonably, too, given that it's part sex manual, part spy story, part meditation on dreams and part talking-animal tale, all wrapped in the patterned carpets of Orientalism and stuffed inside a shaggy dog.
I suspect it's one of those books which, by dint of the enormously evocative descriptions and obviously well-researched background - Irwin is a scholar and Cairo is certainly in his bailiwick - dazzles readers and seems, like the rope trick, to be something more than it is.
It is enjoyable. I can't deny that. The beginning of the work creates atmosphere as quickly as anything I've read. But it doesn't maintain interest as well as the narrative seems to think it does. Storytelling and the unreliability of narration - as well as the structure of the work echoing the loss of stability felt by the lead characters - is a big element. It's just unfortunate the action seems less of a concern than the setting.
Library Journal suggested "the novel's intricacy is likely to put off the general reader" but I don't think the general reader is the only one put off by a narrative that doesn't know what to do with itself. I've read plenty of odd-structured fiction, so I'm OK with experimentation. But here, unlike the studied confusion of Potocki's The Manuscript Found In Saragossa - a book Irwin modelled this work on - there's not really a feeling of unification.
The amount of reviews calling Irwin's text a mind-boggler or somehow otherwise transcendental are a bit off the mark. Yes, it is an unusual book. Yes, it does capture a setting, a point in time particularly well. Yes, it does the Eco/Calvino shaggy-dog thing. But other books do this better. Irwin's research is excellent, his writing isn't full of the gimlet-eyed mysticism which haunts some other psychogeographical writers - but the book is ultimately less satisfying than, say, Milorad Pavic's Dictionary of the Khazars. This book aims to be a puzzle box, and it is puzzling though perhaps not in the way the author intended.
An excellent addition to the text are the illustrations of 'the Scottish Canaletto', David Roberts. They're excellently evocative, and provide a real sense of location for the narrative, albeit an Orientalist take.
The Arabian Nightmare is a story of searching, and a search for a story. I can't help but like it, though - the audacity of its ramshackle construction is appealing, if not completely understandable.
I suspect it's one of those books which, by dint of the enormously evocative descriptions and obviously well-researched background - Irwin is a scholar and Cairo is certainly in his bailiwick - dazzles readers and seems, like the rope trick, to be something more than it is.
It is enjoyable. I can't deny that. The beginning of the work creates atmosphere as quickly as anything I've read. But it doesn't maintain interest as well as the narrative seems to think it does. Storytelling and the unreliability of narration - as well as the structure of the work echoing the loss of stability felt by the lead characters - is a big element. It's just unfortunate the action seems less of a concern than the setting.
Library Journal suggested "the novel's intricacy is likely to put off the general reader" but I don't think the general reader is the only one put off by a narrative that doesn't know what to do with itself. I've read plenty of odd-structured fiction, so I'm OK with experimentation. But here, unlike the studied confusion of Potocki's The Manuscript Found In Saragossa - a book Irwin modelled this work on - there's not really a feeling of unification.
The amount of reviews calling Irwin's text a mind-boggler or somehow otherwise transcendental are a bit off the mark. Yes, it is an unusual book. Yes, it does capture a setting, a point in time particularly well. Yes, it does the Eco/Calvino shaggy-dog thing. But other books do this better. Irwin's research is excellent, his writing isn't full of the gimlet-eyed mysticism which haunts some other psychogeographical writers - but the book is ultimately less satisfying than, say, Milorad Pavic's Dictionary of the Khazars. This book aims to be a puzzle box, and it is puzzling though perhaps not in the way the author intended.
An excellent addition to the text are the illustrations of 'the Scottish Canaletto', David Roberts. They're excellently evocative, and provide a real sense of location for the narrative, albeit an Orientalist take.
The Arabian Nightmare is a story of searching, and a search for a story. I can't help but like it, though - the audacity of its ramshackle construction is appealing, if not completely understandable.
hugobernard's review against another edition
4.0
An interesting book and great writing, but I am not too sure if the plot is satisfying, the overall effect certainly is. I was trying to think of exactly what I wanted to write for this review. I decided to go out for a walk with the hardcover of the book in hand.
I crossed an old man wearing a white turban.
He stopped me and asked, "Is that The Arabian Nightmare, you are holding."
I showed him, a bit stunned that he had recognized it since I had removed the dust jacket and it was only a blue book, the title along the spine hidden by my hand.
"Follow me," he said, I noticed that his left eye was not real, only a sad imitation that had lost its glossiness.
Curious, I followed along. He opened a gate into a private garden. The flora seemed foreign and not suitable for our frigid Québec City weather. On the table were two cups of tea waiting for us, steaming hot. We sat and sipped them in silence. Next to us was a smaller table with a typewriter on it, the letters of the keys hidden by a layer filth.
"So, what did you think of the book?"
I had been so entranced by the inner garden and the typewriter that I hadn't noticed the monkey that had come to sit next to the white turban man to have his head scratched.
"It has an interesting effect, but..." The man lifted his hand to stop me.
"Wait and watch."
He handed a blank page to the monkey who took it and reeled it into the typewriter. The monkey pounded on the keys boisterously and with apparent mirth. I drank tea and laughed at the scene. The man did not laugh, his seriousness silenced me. Once the monkey was done typing, he hopped over and handed me the page with a smirk on his face.
He had written a perfect review of The Arabian Nightmare. It described how the novel mysteriously brought the reader into a dreamlike state and it discussed the many parallels with One Thousand and One Nights.
"Your turn. Write a review worthy of this monkey," The man said pulling a scimitar sword from under the table. "Or I shall keep your left eye."
"Sure, but first tell me how you knew I was holding the Arabian Nightmare when you saw me walking...
.....
I highly recommend this novel, the magic the mystery and the writing are worth it. I lost my left eye writing this review so I will give it four stars.
I crossed an old man wearing a white turban.
He stopped me and asked, "Is that The Arabian Nightmare, you are holding."
I showed him, a bit stunned that he had recognized it since I had removed the dust jacket and it was only a blue book, the title along the spine hidden by my hand.
"Follow me," he said, I noticed that his left eye was not real, only a sad imitation that had lost its glossiness.
Curious, I followed along. He opened a gate into a private garden. The flora seemed foreign and not suitable for our frigid Québec City weather. On the table were two cups of tea waiting for us, steaming hot. We sat and sipped them in silence. Next to us was a smaller table with a typewriter on it, the letters of the keys hidden by a layer filth.
"So, what did you think of the book?"
I had been so entranced by the inner garden and the typewriter that I hadn't noticed the monkey that had come to sit next to the white turban man to have his head scratched.
"It has an interesting effect, but..." The man lifted his hand to stop me.
"Wait and watch."
He handed a blank page to the monkey who took it and reeled it into the typewriter. The monkey pounded on the keys boisterously and with apparent mirth. I drank tea and laughed at the scene. The man did not laugh, his seriousness silenced me. Once the monkey was done typing, he hopped over and handed me the page with a smirk on his face.
He had written a perfect review of The Arabian Nightmare. It described how the novel mysteriously brought the reader into a dreamlike state and it discussed the many parallels with One Thousand and One Nights.
"Your turn. Write a review worthy of this monkey," The man said pulling a scimitar sword from under the table. "Or I shall keep your left eye."
"Sure, but first tell me how you knew I was holding the Arabian Nightmare when you saw me walking...
.....
I highly recommend this novel, the magic the mystery and the writing are worth it. I lost my left eye writing this review so I will give it four stars.
speakerdamage's review against another edition
4.0
If Richard Bishop wrote a novel, this would be it.