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A review by hollyway
Ada or Ardor by Vladimir Nabokov
challenging
reflective
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
I think the only time I have felt this dumb while attempting to read a book was when I tried to rawdog Shakespeare. Can I say I have understood and absorbed this novel? Absolutely not! But I sort of loved it anyway. Having only read Lolita by Nabokov, I had no idea Ada or Ardor would be so dense and oblique. Once I realised what I was in for and that there was no way I would fully comprehend this novel on a first read (at least, not at this point in my life when I am crazy busy and chronically exhausted and unable to give it my full time and energy) I tried to let go of the pressure to fully interpret every line and instead just submit to the sensory experience of the novel. Not that I didn't understand or follow anything, or attempt to rise to the challenge at all, I just didn't want to turn it into a dreaded chore. I'm sure there will be some background processing going on, but I'm also going to seek out some analysis when I get the chance and will definitely be revisiting the book at some point because it's a fascinating work that I would definitely love to understand on a deeper level.
Some thoughts:
- I know this is, to some extent, a satire, and the ironic tone was pretty much consistent, but I'm not sure how much we as readers were supposed to buy into the romance aspect of the story. I'm inclined to say we weren't, as it almost feels as though Nabokov is mocking such a reader when describing that Van and Ada's incestuous love had become a legend of sorts to the simple folk on the periphery of Ardis. I certainly was not rooting for them and did feel that Van had corrupted Ada (and Lucette). But, much like Lolita, there seems the double truth of sinister and ridiculous perversion coinciding with - according to the narrator - genuine tenderness. I definitely did find, though, that the latter was less prevalent in this novel, where the passions of the central relationship were often described in a flippant or tawdry manner (seemingly to give lie to the idea of it being "above" its incestuous nature).
- In Van we have another unreliable narrator who is in many ways just as foul, monstrous and egotistical as Humbert Humbert, but on this first read at least, I found Van less interesting to hate than Humbert.
- I am no stranger to classics or to experimental novels, but this was truly a unique and uniquely difficult experience. It is so strange to read a string of English (okay, often NOT English, Nabokov, you bastard) words and feel yourself unable to make sense of them, not because it's inherently nonsensical but because the author is just on another wavelength of language. It is honestly fun and cool sometimes to read something that is legitimately challenging and pushing your brain to try to interpret this mass of words as an abstract art form. And like, I think it's okay not to fully "get it" the first time, just like we won't "get" every painting or sculpture we see. You still come away with impressions, however vague. That's art, baby!
Some thoughts:
- I know this is, to some extent, a satire, and the ironic tone was pretty much consistent, but I'm not sure how much we as readers were supposed to buy into the romance aspect of the story. I'm inclined to say we weren't, as it almost feels as though Nabokov is mocking such a reader when describing that Van and Ada's incestuous love had become a legend of sorts to the simple folk on the periphery of Ardis. I certainly was not rooting for them and did feel that Van had corrupted Ada (and Lucette). But, much like Lolita, there seems the double truth of sinister and ridiculous perversion coinciding with - according to the narrator - genuine tenderness. I definitely did find, though, that the latter was less prevalent in this novel, where the passions of the central relationship were often described in a flippant or tawdry manner (seemingly to give lie to the idea of it being "above" its incestuous nature).
- In Van we have another unreliable narrator who is in many ways just as foul, monstrous and egotistical as Humbert Humbert, but on this first read at least, I found Van less interesting to hate than Humbert.
- I am no stranger to classics or to experimental novels, but this was truly a unique and uniquely difficult experience. It is so strange to read a string of English (okay, often NOT English, Nabokov, you bastard) words and feel yourself unable to make sense of them, not because it's inherently nonsensical but because the author is just on another wavelength of language. It is honestly fun and cool sometimes to read something that is legitimately challenging and pushing your brain to try to interpret this mass of words as an abstract art form. And like, I think it's okay not to fully "get it" the first time, just like we won't "get" every painting or sculpture we see. You still come away with impressions, however vague. That's art, baby!