From the acclaimed author of My Name Is Red (“a sumptuous thriller”–John Updike; “chockful of sublimity and sin”– New York Times Book Review ), comes a spellbinding tale of disparate yearnings–for love, art, power, and God–set in a remote Turkish town, where stirrings of political Islamism threaten to unravel the secular order.
Following years of lonely political exile in Western Europe, Ka, a middle-aged poet, returns to Istanbul to attend his mother’s funeral. Only partly recognizing this place of his cultured, middle-class youth, he is even more disoriented by news of strange events in the wider country: a wave of suicides among girls forbidden to wear their head scarves at school. An apparent thaw of his writer’s curiosity–a frozen sea these many years–leads him to Kars, a far-off town near the Russian border and the epicenter of the suicides.
No sooner has he arrived, however, than we discover that Ka’s motivations are not purely journalistic; for in Kars, once a province of Ottoman and then Russian glory, now a cultural gray-zone of poverty and paralysis, there is also Ipek, a radiant friend of Ka’s youth, lately divorced, whom he has never forgotten. As a snowstorm, the fiercest in memory, descends on the town and seals it off from the modern, westernized world that has always been Ka’s frame of reference, he finds himself drawn in unexpected directions: not only headlong toward the unknowable Ipek and the desperate hope for love–or at least a wife–that she embodies, but also into the maelstrom of a military coup staged to restrain the local Islamist radicals, and even toward God, whose existence Ka has never before allowed himself to contemplate. In this surreal confluence of emotion and spectacle, Ka begins to tap his dormant creative powers, producing poem after poem in untimely, irresistible bursts of inspiration. But not until the snows have melted and the political violence has run its bloody course will Ka discover the fate of his bid to seize a last chance for happiness.
Blending profound sympathy and mischievous wit, Snow illuminates the contradictions gripping the individual and collective heart in many parts of the Muslim world. But even more, by its narrative brilliance and comprehension of the needs and duties
奧爾罕·帕慕剋(Orhan Pamuk, 1952- ),當代歐洲最傑齣的小說傢之一,享譽國際的土耳其文學巨擘。齣生於伊斯坦布爾,曾在伊斯坦布爾科技技大學主修建築。2006年獲諾貝文學奬,作品已經被譯為40多種語言齣版。
这是我读过的第四本帕穆克作品,之前是两本小说:《我的名字叫红》和《白色城堡》和一本non-fiction:《伊斯坦布尔》。我很喜欢这本《雪》,以及《我的名字叫红》和《伊斯坦布尔》,因为它们很对我的胃口。在这些作品中,帕穆克构建的是一群宏大的叙事结构,人物众多,情节复杂...
評分<雪>是以飞快的速度看完的,很久没有读过如此吸引人的小说了,而且还是本浪漫的政治小说。 把《伊斯坦布尔》,《我的名字叫红》也一起比对的话,觉得卡,黑,和奥尔罕简直就是同一个人。卡是个孤独,忧郁,分裂的双子座中年男人,黑自述过忧郁的定义,每当他感觉到大喜和大悲时...
評分2010年的冬天我出了好几趟门。远的要坐六个小时的飞机,近的也要两个小时的火车。帕慕克的这本《雪》(snow)居然让我在各种交通工具上断断续续地看完了。这本书给我带来的阅读喜悦,远比我所期待的要大。说这阅读经历如同扫罗出外寻找父亲的驴而得到一个王国,可能有点夸张了...
評分据说是帕慕克最钟爱的小说。 据说是最受争议的政治小说。 据说帕慕克因此几乎被追杀。 看书之前,先看到这一堆东西真是让人头疼,免不了带着些微挑衅的态度去读,至少希望读完后满意地发现,这并不是本政治小说。 果然,我以为这并不是本政治小说。 政治不过是个...
評分我觉得自己与他的书产生了奇妙的共振,仿佛每一个字符的跳动都与我的心跳一样,有着有趣的节奏。 可以说伊斯坦布尔的“呼愁”影响了他的写作,他总是在寻找那股忧伤的源泉,这在《雪》中也体现得淋漓尽致。雪是贯穿书的始终的线索,又是令人忧伤的美景,同样是打破人的心...
放在上海瞭呢。。。這次去拿迴來
评分再細節的描寫 你也無法真正成為另一個人來理解TA 每個人都是孤獨的存在 sigh
评分大傢果然是大傢。。。聽瞭rich people problem之後再聽這個纔知道什麼是語言文字帶來的質感
评分“What was the difference between love and the agony of waiting? Like love, the agony of waiting began in the muscles somewhere around the upper belly but soon spread out to the chest, the thighs, and the forehead, to invade the entire body with numbing force.”
评分七年前讀完的那種對於identity的掙紮這次依舊,隻是不再那麼frustrated。從Ka的掙紮到土耳其的掙紮,在法蘭剋福在伊斯坦布爾的迷失抗拒在Kars這座封鎖的城市裏一切變得極其透明而激烈。pace極快,action after action,對westernization/secularization的刻畫在兩三天內以一種極其荒誕的方式掃過瞭土耳其一個世紀的掙紮。而Ka呢?為瞭詩歌,也為瞭一個自己根本看不清的“happiness”,也是荒誕地suffering。永遠在模仿,永遠在迷失,永遠是尋找自己。
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