Monday, April 14, 2014

The Doctor is In... the Closet

Nightwood
by Djuna Barnes


Jan's Pick

Summary:

Is there even a way to summarize this book? If you're looking for praise, read the glowing introduction by T.S. Eliot who "greatly admire[s]" it. The book has been lauded as a lesbian, feminist classic, and no doubt Eliot's preface has been instrumental in raising its esteem.

The story, which is really more of a weaving of dramatic monologue and poetic character description, revolves around the strained and unrequited romances of Robin Vote--introduced as a sleepwalker on page 40. She first marries Felix--a wealthy 'Baron' of Jewish descent--with whom she has a son. Both of whom she promptly abandons.


She is prone to wander, and she wanders from the Baron into the arms and home of Nora Flood--her greatest love. Nora is the one person in the story who seems to genuinely love Robin, and is terminally devoted to her. Unfortunately for Nora, Robin strays to Jenny, and then to another young woman, and so on presumably endlessly so. Robin continues to wreck the lives of her lovers by leaving them to pine after her.

One interesting character is a fake doctor named Matthew O'Connor who is something of a mentor to Nora and whom Nora seeks out to pour her heart to. O'Connor produces many monologue sequences filled with axioms and insights about love and longing. Often, he makes little sense at all (See Chapter 5).

The novel ends without much resolution, with Robin becoming something of a vagrant, wild being traversing the earth, becoming increasingly skittish and beast-like. No one is able to tame her.

Jan's Review

I chose this book based on a note scribbled around the title page of the book, which was gifted to me by a friend. She gave me the book as a "I'm going away and you are staying put" present, and she wrote the following for me:
Jan:
This is not a blatant attempt to turn you into a lady-lover. I read this book in one of my favorite English classes, and I immediately loved it. The writing is beautiful [is "Watchmen, What of the Night" not one of the greatest chapter titles ever?], and even though it's about lesbians, it's not all 'quivering thighs' this and 'nipple' that; the love story is presented in a more human way. Also, the doctor is hilarious.
Such a glowing recommendation certainly made me want to read it, despite my friend and I having largely different tastes in novels. And she's not wrong in her commendation, I think. There is plenty to like and even love in this book, especially the chapter titles (and I think there is definitely something to be said for titling your chapters instead of merely numbering them. Spoiler alert, though: It's not 'quivering thighs' or 'nipples' anything.

Allowing for her and my considerable difference in taste and what we considered "light reading" (anything by Holly Black for me, Henry Miller for her), I think the crucial difference in her reading experience and subsequent ability to enjoy the book as opposed to mine was that she read the book for a class. I am going to presume that the teacher already had a passion for the book, or at least insight into it. I am also going to presume that she had a wide variety of classmates that brought their interpretations of and attachments to different passages to the table.

I realize that unless you are currently a college literature teacher, you are unlikely to be able to construct such an atmosphere for yourself, but I believe that the ideal way to read this book is with a guide, who already loves the book, and at least ten other diverse people, who would like to learn to love it.

Nevertheless, I am glad I read this book. I rarely want to mar my books with underlining, but I definitely did in this one. Even though much of what the doctor said passed over my head, there would be rare moments of clarity (not sure if it was for him or for me) where he said something that seemed to cut to the heart of the human experience. One of my favorite was in Chapter 5: Watchmen, What of the Night: "We are but skin about a wind, with muscles clenched against mortality."

So thanks so much to my friend, who will probably never see this, for recommending this book and for giving it to me! I give it three stars.


Diane's Response

So I didn't enjoy this one, guys. I wanted to. I was pumped when I heard that it was a lesbian, feminist classic. Jan's friend wrote a cool note in the copy she gave her, and T.S. Eliot could not have written a more glowing introduction, but the magic never happened for me. First of all, I don't find it particularly feminist, and honestly (and a little guiltily) I admit I was hoping for sexier stuff.

I took copious notes with quotes from every chapter, but i'm not sure I even have the will to include many excerpts here. I will say that a lot of the prose is masterfully written (The writing reminded me quite a bit of what little I managed to read of Joyce's Ulysses), and phrases are turned cleverly upon themselves for ironic descriptions of characters, but these descriptions become too winding, too layered one on top of the other until they are buried, and it's hard to remember a character's dominant traits. Though I liked some of them, these passages could have used some serious honing.

My main problem with the book turned out to be the lack of plot and agency in characters. I thought this wouldn't bother me since I'm a bit of a poetry geek, but it was frustrating in this novel. No one seems to DO much besides seek out the Doctor and talk to him, and the Doctor, who is given most of the good lines in the book, hardly manages to make sense since his philosophizing and advice lack a concrete context. I was willing to stick with the book and take it seriously until chapter 5 when it jumps off a cliff and into the Doctor's weird pontifications. After that, it was something of a torture to finish without any pay-off or sense-making or resolution in the end.

My favorite line in the book, and I did like some lines, is probably the most famous passage of the book where Nora describes the difference between loving a woman and loving a man:
"A man is another person--a woman is yourself, caught as you turn in panic; on her mouth you kiss your own" (143).
But all in all, I just can't with this book. I think Chopin's The Awakening is much better for a classic feminist read--though I wouldn't call that one my favorite either. Night-dud for sure. I give it 2 stars.

Ann's Response

Oh, Nightwood. Where to begin? This is undoubtedly a beautifully written book, but the story never quite comes together, never rises above the vague sense of profundity and incohesive proverb. While both the tone and style of Nightwood could easily be compared to Virginia Woods' Mrs. Dalloway, the latter successfully develops a central theme and maintains a clear purpose--to illustrate the "peculiar sense of proportion" afflicting the post-WWI, modernist English citizen. Nightwood never achieves this clarity.

A more fitting comparison, in my humble opinion, could be made between the ignorant pontificating of Kerouac's Dean Moriarty and the incoherent ranting of "the doctor." There's nothing impressive or engaging to me about sitting back while a couple of nonsensical, self-important bullshitters run at the mouth. But maybe that's a bit too harsh on the doctor...

On the otherhand, there was a certain pathetic humor to the passages between the doctor and Nora, each carrying out completely independent, wholly self-involved conversations, for all intents and purposes listing their grievances to an empty room. For all the 10-page monologues bemoaning the lack of affection and acceptance, these two never come close to connecting.

Overall, Nightwood suffered from an overabundance of diffuse and underdeveloped philosophies, turning the many (potentially powerful) revelations to mere platitudes.

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