Sabbatical: A Romance

by John Barth

Subtitled "a romance", Sabbatical is the story of Susan Rachel Allan Seckler, a sharp young associate professor of early American literature - part Jewish, part Gypsy, and possibly descended from Edgar Allan Poe - and her husband Fenwick Scott Key Turner, a 50-year-old ex-CIA officer currently between careers, a direct descendant of the author of "The Star Spangled Banner" and himself the author of a troublemaking book about his former employer. Seven years into their marriage, they decide to take a sabbatical, a sailboat journey on which they sum up their years together and try to make important decisions about the years ahead.

Genres: Fiction, Novels, Literature, American, Literary Fiction, American Fiction, 20th Century

366 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1982

About the author

John Barth briefly studied "Elementary Theory and Advanced Orchestration" at Juilliard before attending Johns Hopkins University, received a bachelor of arts in 1951 and composed The Shirt of Nessus , a thesis for a Magister Artium in 1952.
He served as a professor at Penn State University from 1953. Barth began his career with short The Floating Opera , which deals with suicide, and The End of the Road on controversial topic of abortion. Barth later remarked that these straightforward tales "didn't know they were novels."
The life of Ebenezer Cooke, an actual poet, based a next eight-hundred-page mock epic of the colonization of Maryland of Barth. Northrop Frye called an anatomy, a large, loosely structured work with digressions, distractions, stories, and lists, such as two prostitutes, who exchange lengthy insulting terms. The disillusioned fictional Ebenezer Cooke, repeatedly described as an innocent "poet and virgin" like Candide, sets out a heroic epic and ends up a biting satire.
He moved in 1965 to State University of New York at Buffalo. He visited as professor at Boston University in 1972. He served as professor from 1973 at Johns Hopkins University. He retired in 1995.
The conceit of the university as universe based Giles Goat-Boy , a next speculative fiction of Barth comparable size. A half-goat discovers his humanity as a savior in a story, presented as a computer tape, given to Barth, who denies his work. In the course, Giles carries out all the tasks that Joseph Campbell prescribed in The Hero with a Thousand Faces . Barth meanwhile in the book kept a list of the tasks, taped to his wall.
The even more metafictional Lost in the Funhouse , the short story collection, and Chimera , the novella collection, than their two predecessors foreground the process and present achievements, such as seven nested quotations. In Letters , Barth and the characters of his first six books interact.
Barth meanwhile also pondered and discussed the theoretical problems of fiction, most notably in an essay, "The Literature of Exhaustion," first printed in the Atlantic in 1967, widely considered a statement of "the death of the novel" (compare with Roland Barthes's "The Death of the Author"). Barth has since insisted that he was merely making clear that a particular stage in history was passing, and pointing to possible directions from there. He later (1979) a follow-up essay, "The Literature of Replenishment," to clarify the point.
Barth's fiction continues to maintain a precarious balance between postmodern self-consciousness and wordplay on the one hand, and the sympathetic characterisation and "page-turning" plotting commonly associated with more traditional genres and subgenres of classic and contemporary storytelling.

Reviews

[Max Nemtsov · Rating 5 out of 5]

Американскому постмодернисту Джону Барту (р. 1930) в русскоязычном пространстве повезло больше многих, но это неточно. Изданы переводы трех его ранних романов и одного позднего, хотя два его классических шедевра фабулистики — «Торговец дурманом» и «Козлик Джайлз» — еще ждут своих переводчиков и издателей. Сам Барт уже давно и заслуженно легендарен: он член Американской академии искусств и словесности и у него больше под десяток американских и европейских призов и наград (из них три — по совокупности заслуг и за вклад в современную литературу).
Изданием перевода его романа «Творческий отпуск: рыцарский роман» (Sabbatical: A Romance, 1982) «Додо Пресс» и «Фантом Пресс» надеются заполнить эту зияющую пропасть в знакомстве русского читателя с произведениями этого столпа американской литературы. Условный «средний период» творчества Барта можно с некоторой оглядкой считать не таким ироничным, как дело обстояло в начале его литературного пути, хотя пародия по-прежнему остается его ключевым литературным приемом, а игра слов и словами — излюбленным фокусом. Отталкиваясь от литературной традиции, Барт по-прежнему плетет свои «мета-нарративы» буквально из всего, что попадается под руку (взять, к примеру, рассказ «Клик», выросший из единственного щелчка компьютерной мышью), однако фантазии его крайне достоверны, а персонажи полнокровны и узнаваемы. Кроме того, как истинный фабулист, Барт всегда придавал огромное значение стремительности, плавности и увлекательности сюжета.
Так и с «Отпуском». Роман его, в самых общих чертах, основан на реальной гибели бывшего агента ЦРУ Джона Пейсли в 1978 году. 11 лет Пейсли служил в Управлении и в отставку вышел в должности заместителя директора Отдела стратегических исследований; он был глубоко вовлечен в работу против СССР. После отставки жизнь его пошла наперекосяк: они расстались с женой, сам Пейсли стал участвовать в семинарах «личностного осознания» и групповых сессиях психотерапии. А в сентябре 1978 года, выйдя на своем шлюпе в Чесапикский залив, бывший агент исчез. Тело его обнаружили только через неделю — с утяжеленным поясом ныряльщика и огнестрельной раной в голове. Однозначного ответа на вопросы о причинах его гибели нет до сих пор. Агенты ЦРУ, как известно, никогда не бывают «бывшими».
В романе Барта, конечно, все немного не так. Бывший служащий ЦРУ Фенвик Скотт Ки Тёрнер — возможно, прямой потомок автора гимна США, написавший разоблачительную книгу о своих прежних работодателях, — и его молодая жена — преподаватель американской классической Сьюзен Рейчел Аллан Секлер, полуеврейка-полуцыганка и, возможно, потомица Эдгара Аллана По, — возвращаются в Чесапикский залив из романтического плавания к Карибам. По дороге они, в общем, сочиняют роман (есть версия, что он стал следующим романом самого Джона Барта), сталкиваются с разнообразными морскими приключениями и выбираются из всевозможных передряг. Их ждут бури, морские чудовища, зловещие острова — а над всем нависает мрачная тень этих самых работодателей Фенвика…
Сплетенный сразу из всех характерных и любимых деталей творческого почерка Джона Барта, роман скучать читателю точно не дает. Удивителен он тем, что, по сути, отнюдь не тот «умный» или «интеллектуальный» роман, чего вроде бы ждешь от авторов такого калибра и поколения, вроде Пинчона, Хоукса и Бартелми, с которыми русскоязычному читателю традиционно «трудно». Это скорее простая жанровая семейная сага + конечно, любовный роман, но написан он с применением постмодернистского инструментария и всего, что обычно валяется на полу мастерской. А поскольку мастерская у нас — все-таки писательская, то и роман получился весьма филологический. И камерный — это, в общем, идеальная пьеса со спецэффектами: дуэт главных героев и небольшая вспомогательная труппа проживают у нас на глазах примерно две недели, ни разу не заставив читателя (подглядывающего зрителя) усомниться в том, что они реальны…
Ну и, чтобы и дальше обходиться без спойлеров, следует сказать лишь еще об одной черте романа — о вписанности текста в территорию (вернее, акваторию; не карту, заметим, хотя иметь представление о складках местности не повредит). Тут уж сам Чесапикский залив — одно из тех мест, которые, конечно, можно читать как книгу. Плавание по этим местам будет вполне плавным, но извилистым.

[Marc · Rating 5 out of 5]

Why this seems considered a lesser Barth is beyond me - I found it thrilling and touching and scary and beautiful. It's a smaller canvas than the sprawling of LETTERS, but just as intricate and amazing, and as for the former's wide canvas this one got intimacy.

As always, Barth also pull off some amazing stuff on a purely formal level. For this one a weird first person plural narrative voice somehow existing in two timeframes at once, and the wonder is how he makes these things work, making what should feel like a rather labored construction seem effortless and natural and just right for the story he tells.

The main quality of Barth's that get me every time, though, is his ability to make such alive characters. The plots might occasionally border the farcical, but you always care about those people. I do at least, and Sabbatical - my third Barth - was no exception. What surprised me was the anger and downright brutality of the book with an almost unbearable story of a mass rape occurring very early in the novel and plenty of details of torture techniques of CIA and related companies throughout, all giving an uneasy undertone to what, in it's own strange Barthian way, is basically a love story - or perhaps rather a story about love, though it's also a spy novel, and a family chronicle, and a mediation on narrative structure, and a love letter to sailing on the Chesapeake and several other things too.

Basically: Big recommendation! And now I can't wait to see him re-shuffle this material in The Tidewater Tales...

[Shashi Martynova · Rating 5 out of 5]

И такова в том числе идеальная художественная проза, если вы спросите меня. Восторг.

[Adam · Rating 3 out of 5]

Maybe overmuch muchness, but a carp about Barth is not worth keying. Sublime pleasures aplenty, it would be ridiculous were they uninterrupted. Gales, doldrums, breezes and squalls, the weather is fine after alls.

[Stewart Mitchell · Rating 4 out of 5]

I expected to finish this and leave a short review, but as I read it, John Barth died. I’m glad that this is the one I was reading while it happened - I’ll let this review be a testament to his greatness.

Like most others aware of Barth, I discovered him through The Sot-Weed Factor, which remains one of my favorite novels of all time. As I typically do when I love a book, I immediately bought up everything else I could find of his, and made my way through his first few books shortly after. Although nothing impressed me quite as much as that first one, I loved his voice and his playfulness, the way he constantly pointed to his stories as stories and toyed with their form as they progressed. It has been argued that this tinkering detracts from his work, that his novels play out like intellectual exercises rather than good books - I disagree completely. At his core, Barth was a storyteller in love with the art of the story, clearly in awe of grand adventure novels and mythic legends, obsessed with nesting narratives within each other, structure be damned. He was, is, forever will be, the grinning uncle telling dirty tales around the campfire until the sun comes up.

And now the sun has come up on the great man, and although he lived to be 93, the part of me that fell in love with him believed he would never die. As I read Sabbatical, I found myself surprised at its sentimentality - it’s subtitled “A Romance”, and this turns out to be much less ironic than I had expected. It’s a beautiful, small-scale story about lovers writing their story as it happens. It’s an underlooked book in an underlooked catalogue, and if you want to understand why Barth’s passing is such a great loss, it’s not the worst place to find out.

[James Smith · Rating 4 out of 5]

A metafictional romp with a surprising Thomas-Wolfe-an rhapsody at the end.

To take just one example: the book is laden with nautical language which, I expect, is comprehensible to only a very select audience of accomplished sailors. And yet—as with the military language and acronyms in Phil Klay’s Redeployment—any reader can nonetheless follow the narrative and even enjoy the frisson of linguistic alienation and creeping familiarity by the end of the book.

And lest anyone miss the Jabberwocky exercise, with a wink and a nod Barth names one of the yacht’s “Brillig.”

[Josh · Rating 2 out of 5]

Like all of Barth's novels, this one is fiendishly clever and impressively complex-- highly "meta," referential, postmodern, whatever you want to call it; plus, it's told from the first-person point of view of two people at once, a "couple's" perspective-- but for as technically impressive as it is, the book is just never very fun; it's easy to appreciate but hard to really enjoy, and even at its most imaginative, it mostly feels tedious.

[David]

This is the romance: a narrative which, generally, presents life as being probably somewhat better than it really is. Happy endings and happy people are happier. More things work out than don’t. In the story, a married couple, one a descendant of Francis Scott Key, the other a descendant of Edgar Allan Poe, have taken a year’s sabbatical to go sailing, during which they hope to make several crucial decisions about where their lives are going to go next. They find themselves almost home again with many of these decisions not even discussed, many questions not even spoken aloud. Over the course of the rest of the story the reader is invited into the imaginative process of a couple becoming a first person plural narrator—with occasional recourse to a third person omniscient narrator in the background just to fill in the blanks. The CIA is involved. There are people missing. There have been rapes. It’s not all a happy day in the playground, even if it is labelled a romance. The distinction here which Barth is drawing is between the Romance as a more optimistic mode of writing, once described by Henry James as being like floating a balloon on the end of a string and then finding a way to subtly cut the string without the reader noticing, so that the balloon of the narrative flies unfettered, or unanchored, by the absolute constraints of reality. Barth’s next book, The Tidewater Tales, is the novel that the first person plural narrator couple creates.

[Descending Angel · Rating 4 out of 5]

Barth is always so much fun to read and still so original. A lot of the stuff Barth does shouldn't work or shouldn't work as well as it does. RIP John Barth.

[Lisa Hope · Rating 4 out of 5]

Here is what I wrote upon beginning to read Barth's Sabbatical:
Chapter 1 - In high school in the late '70s I was mad for him. Then it waned. Then a loathing set in. I called him mean names like metafictional megaonanist. I know; not nice. I was not alone. The critics, too, fell out of love. Jack became weirder and even more obscure as a defense mechanism. (Note to self-as a defense mechanism this one rarely works out well for ones literary career.)

Chapter 2 - John Updike died. The last letter he wrote was to John B. That doesn't really have much to do with anything, but writing about Barth inclines one to that sort of apropos of nothingness.

Chapter 3 - Tonight I said to the spousal unit, "Spousal Unit! Bring forth from the library the first book upon which thou dost clap thine eyes." He brought Barth's Sabbatical. I am 15 pages in. I have giggled at least once per page. Don't judge me. . I especially like his phrase "mucking up the melos." I plan on using by 12 pm tomorrow.

How do I feel at the end. A bit sad. I was in a mood to forgive Barth his typical excesses: a proneness to aphorisms, odd names which seem to be almost always used in full - Edgar Allan Ho, multiple nicknames, twins and more twins, conception, improbabilities wrapped in warped near certainties, Don Q., intertwining stories, bizarre narrative points of views, Scherazade, quirky narrative structure, Poe, incessant name and wordplay. And new ones, the gushing lovieness of the protagonist Susan Seckler Turner and her significantly older husband Fenwick Turner. Fenwick from his wardrobe to his alma mater is as patently Barth as is possible, as is his wife Susan.

I did, I do forgive him because he made me giggle often, think about the act of story creation frequently. Literary high-jinks and all it was a pleasure to read Sabbatical. One reason is that one of the back stories is that of John Arthur Paisley who went missing from his sailboat only to show up bloated and worse for wear at the Chesapeake. Wearing clothes that would have been too small for Paisley. This story was a big news item when I was a high school student in Fairfax Co. I followed it with fervor in the the Post. I enjoyed dredging that up from the sluice of my brain. Then, though in some ways the book is very sad, it really is fun. And behind the shenanigans dead serious. As Fenwick says, "you can be serious with a smile."

I can understand others being annoyed, but, as I said, I was in a mood to be indulgent. I think I am better off for it.

So, why sad? I'm not saying.

For those who haven't read Barth, I would say Sabbatical though quirky is his most accessible novel since The End of the Road.

[Майя Ставитская · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is American postmodernism and one of its most charming authors, John Barth. I'm not a big fan of postmodernism with a chest of its trinkets: fabulation, pastiche, hyper- and intertextuality, magrealism, temporal distortions, irony (as if the world didn't know irony before - tell that to Socrates). Postmodernism is definitely not the omega of literature, of which Homer was the alpha, but let it flow into literature with a fresh stream, it will be absorbed by it. The literature that has been storytelling since the epic of Gilgamesh and the Egyptian myths. So, back to the story.

A married couple: he is a writer for a little over fifty, she is a university teacher much younger, married for seven happy years, childless, spend Shabbat on their own modest yacht (as if this is not an oxymoron). They belong to the golden billion, are well-off, attractive, without complexes, talented, smart, healthy - Fenwick had a heart attack a few years ago, but since then he has lost weight, refused alcohol, pays tribute to physical activity, both hope that he has every chance to live for another twenty years. By the way, Bart, who wrote the hero partly from himself, died this April at the age of ninety-five. Susan is a Jew with Gypsies who got mixed up among her ancestors and Edgar Poe who somehow got noticed there, naturally teaches English literature, Fenn used to work for the special services, but now retired and wrote a well-selling spy novel.

The espionage theme is also noted in the story of Sue and Fenwick, mainly by the fact that they discuss the death of a certain CIA officer who drowned during a boat trip on his yacht. In addition to the drowning, there was also forty pounds of cargo and a pistol shot with an entrance hole behind the left ear, which did not prevent the police expert from concluding suicide, yeah. A surprisingly cozy narrative, despite the fact that monstrous stories are constantly wedged into it, like the gang rape of Sue's twin sister or an abortion, which she decides to do in secret from her husband, realizing that he does not crave a new fatherhood, and then experiences a small one. filled with mythological allusions. depression.

Storms and calm, a meeting with a sea monster and the return of the prodigal beret, naked breakfasts and high-quality marital sex, lots of delicious food and smart conversations between the two. getting into absolute resonance with each other, interlocutors. The dialogues here are not how people actually speak, but by untangling their hints and references, you test yourself for erudition (losing every time). John Bart is not much for everyone and is unlikely to be emotionally hooked, but he will give a lot of intellectual pleasure.

Одиссея субботнего года
Сьюзен замечает, что о таком не говорилось ни в одном курсе для писателей, какие она выслушивала или сама преподавала. Тогда перепиши программу, говорит Фенн: отныне мы прокладываем свой собственный курс.
Это американский постмодернизм и один из самых обаятельных его авторов Джон Барт,. Я не большая поклонница постмодернизме с сундучком его побрякушек: фабуляция, пастиш, гипер- и интертекстуальность, магреализм, временные искажения, ирония (будто прежде мир не знал иронии - скажите это Сократу). Постмодернизм точно не омега литературы, альфой которой был Гомер, но пущай ужо вольется в нее свежей струей, будет поглощен и абсорбирован ею. Литературой, которая со времен эпоса о Гильгамеше и египетских мифов есть рассказывание историй. Итак, к истории.

Супружеская пара: он писатель чуть за полтинник, она университетская преподавательница много моложе, в браке семь счастливых лет, бездетны, проводят шаббатон на собственной скромной яхте (как-будто это не оксюморон). Они принадлежат к золотому миллиарду, обеспечены, привлекательны, без комплексов, талантливы, умны, здоровы - был сердечный приступ у Фенвика несколько лет назад, но с тех пор он сбросил лишний вес, отказался от алкоголя, отдает должное физической активности, оба надеются, что имеет все шансы прожить еще лет двадцать. К слову, Барт, писавший героя отчасти с себя, скончался в нынешнем апреле на девяносто пятом году жизни. Сьюзен еврейка с затесавшимися среди предков цыганами и каким-то образом отметившимся там же Эдгаром По, закономерно преподает английскую литературу, Фенн прежде работал на спецслужбы, но нынче в отставке и написал неплохо продающийся шпионский роман.

Шпионская тема отмечается и в истории Сью с Фенвиком, главным образом тем, что они обсуждают смерть некоего сотрудника ЦРУ, утонувшего во время морской прогулки на своей яхте. В придачу к утоплению там еще было сорок фунтов груза и пистолетный выстрел со входным отверстием за левым ухом, что не помешало полицейскому эксперту сделать вывод о самоубийстве, мда. Удивительно уютное повествование, несмотря на то, что в него то и дело вклиниваются чудовищные истории, вроде группового изнасилования сестры-близнеца Сью или аборта, на который она решается втайне от мужа, понимая, что он не жаждет нового отцовства, а после переживает небольшую. наполненную мифологическими аллюзиями. депрессию.

Шторма и штиль, встреча с морским чудовищем и возвращение блудного берета, голые завтраки и качественный супружеский секс, много вкусной еды и умные беседы двух. попадающих в абсолютный резонанс друг к другу, собеседников. Здешние диалоги - это не то, как люди говорят на самом деле, зато распутывая их намеки и отсылки, тестируешь себя на эрудицию (всякий раз проигрывая). Джон Барт сильно не для всех и эмоционально вряд ли зацепит, но подарит немало интеллектуального удовольствия. А перевод Макса Немцова - дополнительный бонус, для способных оценить его своеобычность и поэтику .

[Christine · Rating 4 out of 5]

I would certainly recommend this book to Barth fans, not first time readers. It's a slow read, took me a little over a month--not unprecedented, but unusual. He's Barth-y as ever, which I happen to love, but this novel is a far cry from his other works, which, come to think of it, are each a far cry from the other. All display that character of his writing, though, that those familiar with his work will easily recognize. Basically, if you have liked his other work, and especially Giles Goat-Boy, then you will most likely like this one. Sometimes an effort to read, not as strong as his other novels (my opinion), but still a worthwhile and satisfying work.

[Spencer Rich · Rating 1 out of 5]

This starts out as a pretty crappy love story, nearly becomes a mediocre spy story, and then becomes a really, really crappy love story. A semi-autobiographical account of a late middle aged horny writer and his whiny early middle age wife who sail around Virginia and Maryland and cry a lot. Oh, John Barth--what happened to the funhouse po-mo tricks of old?

[Andy · Rating 2 out of 5]

The prose was pleasant enough, but after about 100+ pages I sensed that my life wouldn't be much different if I didn't bother to finish it. Barth is somehow more convincing when he's writing about goat boys than when he attempts more realistic characters.

[Shirley · Rating 2 out of 5]

I have started this book three times and can't get past the odd beginning. I hope it is worth the work!

[Rachel · Rating 4 out of 5]

I loved this book, it is extremely intimate and conversational. You develop a relationship with the characters. I cried at the end.

[Jim Huinink · Rating 2 out of 5]

I didn't actually finish this but got about two thirds through it before I completely tired of the vanity of it all. Just not interested, sorry.

[Brendan · Rating 5 out of 5]

This may be the most easily-readable of Barth’s work I’ve encountered, and is a touching, thoughtful love story to boot.

[VV · Rating 5 out of 5]

Fun read, no really. I confess I have an affinity for books set on boats even if I don't understand all the lingo/jargon. But I never felt lost, this is not a meta work trying to outsmart you. The book is helpful in keeping track of all the nicknames, secondary characters, and the convoluted family tree. It cares very much, it's a romance--intimate, personal, tender, playful, sunny, stormy, sweet, scary.

Overall I enjoyed the ride, even if I didn't understand every point. I laughed often, sometimes out loud. John Barth's a great writer because he shows you how fake and artificial these characters are--within the first few pages they are making comments/critiques about their story and how it's being told--but then he gives them real depth and authentic emotions and an alive world to root for them in and an omnipresent CIA to fear.

Be warned though, this is a difficult book to recommend. If only because a character tells her sister's r*pe story that goes on for 6 pages--The type of thing you read and think "I wish I could time travel to 2 minutes ago and never read these pages." It happens pp 62-68, it took me a bit to get back in the story, and when I did I was worried a scene like that would happen again (it doesn't, not even close). I am bothered to have images and words like that in my head, ugh. I recommend the book but skip these pages.

I do own the companion piece The Tidewater Tales (another $1 thrift store find, like this one) but I will probably hold off as it's 300 pages longer.

David Foster Wallace fans will like this. It is obvious he read it--pingponging footnotes, son character named Orin, "for keeps", matches in tone style and attitude, government agents having plots within plots, character says she has conversations with a ghost, PARAGRAPHS TITLED WITH BLOCK CAPITALS. (Even the awful gangr*pe scene reminded me of a couple sexual violence stories in Brief Interviews with Hideous Men, there are some parallels too big to be coincidence). I had the same feeling I had reading DeLillo's Ratner's Star: "DFW def read and was heavily inspired by this".

I also enjoyed the overt political references. The CIA's coup and assassination of Chile's democratically elected president Salvador Allende is referenced many times. There's a running theme that The Company serves The Company and not the meager country. Interesting timeframe for this novel, it feels so hopeful-but-realistically-pessimistic for 1980, before everything U.S. rocketed rightward and downward with the rise of neoliberalism and reaganomics.

The Fork. The Y. Fleshbeck. Mi boina! 4.5 stars.

[Sandie · Rating 4 out of 5]

A married couple take a year out of their lives and go sailing. Fenwick Scott Key Turner is in his early 50's and has recently left the CIA. Susan Rachel Allen Seckler, his wife, is twenty-five years younger and a professor of English. It is her sabbatical from teaching and they have spent it on the seas. Both of them are twins. Susan's twin has had a hard life; she has been raped and captured overseas and tortured and leads a life of whatever comes, comes. Fen's twin also worked for the CIA and was a higher-up there. Susan's mother became a couple with Fen's twin and he raised she and her sister so it is almost as if Fen married his niece.

The two have gone on the journey to make decisions. What will their marriage look like going forward? Will they have children? What will Fen do next in his career? But they haven't made any decisions and the year is almost over. Things happen as they return to the Chesapeake Bay. After a year of sailing, they find an island close to home that isn't on their charts and from which they are fired upon. Fen loses his lucky hat. The CIA makes approaches to Fen, asking him to come back. Fen's twin and his son, Susan's half brother have both disappeared and Fed suspects that the CIA may be involved. Where will their lives lead?

John Barth is a postmodern writer whose most influential works were in the 1960s and 1970s. This novel was written in 1982. He has won the National Book Award and his writing is known for wordplay and satire along with repetitive themes that reoccur during the work and are brought together at the end to either make a point or illustrate a concept. His work is often focused on the Tidewater of Virginia and Maryland where he was born and lives and on sailing, his great love. It also often features twins and Barth himself is a twin. He is not considered an easy read but the reader will be rewarded with new ideas and engaging characters. This book is recommended for readers of literary fiction.

[Benjamin]

It starts out with some complicated and cringy family/sexual relationships that are *technically* ok, but still not exactly a model of healthy relationships. And so, I got a way into it and came to a *horrifying* rape scene that just wouldn't stop and couldn't go on. I'm sure it was meant to be allegorical or something, or meant to have the reader feel as violated as the character ... anyways, this book is heavy-handed with symbolism, and ... nope.

[Bruce · Rating 3 out of 5]

Barth is such a clever writer, and this book (in addition to his usual Chesapeake setting) has footnotes conveying important info, literary puns and allusions, a book-within-the-book, nautical terms aplenty, and other playful devices to keep things moving along. On the other hand, some of the characters are annoying, and the book suffers from an ending that feels slapdash and hasty.

[cole · Rating 5 out of 5]

I’m not sure what to say about sabbatical. I know I love it. I enjoyed reading this book more than any other. It’s so many things and somehow they all just fit. but mainly it’s about love. (it’s a romance!)

[Freddie the Know-it-all · Rating 1 out of 5]

I bought this when it first came out as a hardcover. I was disappointed.

I don't like any kind of book with the CIA in it any more than I like a book with the Crunch Fitness Gym in it.

The minute you stick the CIA into a book, anything goes. It's like adding a magician.

[Rossrn Nunamaker · Rating 4 out of 5]

I enjoyed this book about sailing around the Chesapeake and hearing the stories of the two who were doing so.

It may not reflect 'early' Barth works, but it worked for me.

[Joyce · Rating 5 out of 5]

in so called holiday mode barth still develops his theory of fiction seriously, moving forward even from letters to somewhere freer and more joyous

[Geoffrey Fox · Rating 3 out of 5]

Wherein we learn much about sailing and its terminology, the intricacies of Vietnamese cao dai poetry/singing, and many things about the CIA that we may have missed from the newspapers and the several books by ex-officers thereof. A terribly clever book, and charming, with thoroughly lovable characters and only remote (and remotely sinister) possibly-bad guys and gals (yes, women now in the CIA), a great pleasure to read through most of it, a preposterous tangle of kin-crossings introduced, perhaps for Barth to show off plotting intricacies but in the end as irrelevant as the non-appearing Manfred (presumably prematurely deceased but in any case disappeared) and his equally non-appearing son (ditto) to a story whose dramatic dénoument is Fenwick Turner leaping about his boat moved by the sudden discovery that maybe he really can write a novel.
This book alludes to lots of important things, like environmental and political disasters and Chilean fascist monstrosities and US complicity in all this and more, but these problems are never engaged and in the end, once Fenwick figures out which way to steer his boat, he and his sailing-partner Susan live happily ever after. Well, they've been good company for a while, but since happily-everaftering is what they're into now, then I'm happy to leave them. (abridged from notes written in 1984, when I was reading a lot of Barth)

[Jenny · Rating 4 out of 5]

The sailing trip through the Chesapeake Bay reminded me of our time living in Hampton Roads. The narrative structure of the book was interesting and the first person dual narration by a couple was very well done. Even though there are a number of female characters in this book and they are treated with affection and sympathy by the author, I felt as though I was constantly being reminded that I was reading a book written by a male author. Even more a male author living and writing in the United States in the second half of the 20th Century. At times this was fine, at other times this grated slightly. Not enough to put me off from the book, but a small nagging annoyance in what was otherwise a wonderful book.

I did enjoy the uncertainty in the narrative -- both in events, in the outcomes of the stories and in the questions about the reality and the actual existence of some of the places encountered in the novel. In a world of spies and double agents, one wonders if anyone or any place is really what it seems. In the end, it is clear that this is fiction and that there are many layers of truth that can be found in a piece of fiction or in a life.

[Lachlann]

The two protagonists narrate, sometimes taking turns, and sometimes using a joint voice. They also defer to the author to tell their story in some parts, so as to have time to themselves to make dinner and sleep. This, along with the expositional nature of their dialogue, made it at times a very irritating read, and I ended up putting it down about halfway through. I'm kinda weak like that. I do plan on finishing it...at some point.
In it's favour, the book is very atmospheric, and the characters are pretty sympathetic. I'm just not much good with excessive postmodernism.

[David · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book is curiously interesting for a book where nothing much seems to happen. The metafictional elements are wild and witty. I liked how the metafictional elements con you into thinking all this action happens when really all that happens is the action is talked about. Barth keeps the reader on a line, tugging appropriately, and gets the effect of an action novel in a primarily psychological novel. All without the reader really being the wiser until they stop and reflect. Quite an achievement.