Bernard Malamud was an American novelist and short story writer. Along with Saul Bellow, Joseph Heller, Norman Mailer and Philip Roth, he was one of the best known American Jewish authors of the 20th century. His baseball novel, The Natural, was adapted into a 1984 film starring Robert Redford. His 1966 novel The Fixer (also filmed), about antisemitism in the Russian Empire, won both the National Book Award and the Pulitzer Prize.
Otto racconti uniti in raccolta nel 1973: La corona d’argento, Uomo nel cassetto, La lettera, A riposo, Il cappello di Rembrandt, Bigliettini di una signora a una cena, Mio figlio l’assassino, Cavallo parlante. Tutti di ambientazione americana tranne il secondo incorniciato in una splendida Russia stretta dalla morsa dello spionaggio internazionale. Storie brevi, concise e compiute dall’epilogo evidente e dal messaggio illuminante; raccontano la piccolezza del vivere, l’ambiguità del sentire umano, l’incapacità del saper vivere e il senso di inadeguatezza e di fallimento o- al minimo - di profonda insoddisfazione che ne possono derivare. Alcuni vivono di un gradevole sconfinamento nella materia surreale (La corona d’argento), altri se ne nutrono profondamente (Il cavallo parlante); certi (Bigliettini di una signora a una cena, Il cappello di Rembrandt) ricordano per piccoli dettagli, per sentore, per reminiscenza pura i suoi romanzi: vi è l’ebreo, vi sono i professori, c’è una certa insoddisfazione coniugale e l’incomunicabilità regna sovrana. La lettura sarebbe opportuna dopo aver incontrato la grande produzione romanzesca malamudiana perché i riferimenti intertestuali verrebbero naturali e gradevoli, concorrendo a migliorare la fruizione del suo universo narrativo fatto di storie completamente sacrificate all’impianto narrativo a discapito dell’esibizione stilistica. Eppure il buon caro Malamud impreziosisce anche queste pagine con fulminee incursioni stilistiche a rammentarci la sua cifra. Tentativi di salvare il proprio padre, di far uscire un manoscritto dalla Russia, di far imbucare una lettera, di farsi notare da una donna, di ripristinare dei rapporti cordiali dopo uno scontro silente, o ancora di approcciare un uomo più giovane del proprio marito, o di comprendere il silenzio di un figlio e per finire quello di uscire dal corpo di un cavallo. Questa la materia narrata a voi scoprire chi e come vi riuscirà. Buona lettura.
Reading this book, I had a misapprehension. The first chapter (“The Silver Crown”) was about a miracle-working rabbi in the Bronx. The second chapter (“Man in the Drawer”) – which ended at page 100 – was about a schoolteacher traveling in the Soviet Union. The whole time I was reading the second chapter, I was thinking, “How will Malamud bring the rabbi back into the story?”
Then I came to the third chapter, which was entitled “The Letter,” and suddenly it hit me: this is a book of short stories!
It wasn’t completely my fault. The (front) cover did not mention the genre of the work, merely quoting The New York Times Book Review: “Ironic humor and beautifully bold fantasy…”. (And I never read the back cover, because it often reveals a book’s plot.)
And why does this volume have this title? I think just because it’s the best title of any story in the book. And perhaps Malamud is saying: “A writer must wear Rembrandt’s hat. It’s an affectation, but it’s impossible to write without an affectation.”
Opening at random:
“Free-lance writer,” he shouted, “go to hell to America! Tell to Negroes about Bill of Rights! Tell them they are free although you keep them slaves! Talk to sacrificed Vietnamese people that you respect them!”
Irina Filipovna entered the room on the run. “Feliks,” she entreated, “Kovalevsky hears every word!"
This is a different collection, though some of the stories do hit at some of the same themes and ideas from Idiots First. The first, most obvious difference here is that these stories are more than a decade later, and the shift in consciousness in American literature from the 1960s through the 1970s is apparent here. These are more of the kind of dinner party and grad school and upper West side stories we associate with the New Yorker in the 1970s and 1980s. In addition, these are longer, more thoughtful and contemplative stories. The longest story in the collection is also the best “The Man in the Drawer” is more of a novelette in length, and follows an American writer on a cultural exchange to USSR in the 1970s. He meets a vociferous taxi driver who also ends up being a “drawer writer”, a writer who writes not exactly anti-Soviet writing, but writing that might put him in danger. Soviets banned sentimental writing a lot of time as it looked backwards. The American finds himself in the terrible position of being able to offer a service to the driver, to take his work back to America, despite really not wanting to. So this tension carries us through a series of interactions.
Found at a cute used book store in upstate NY for $1. I couldn't remember if I had read these short stories before. About 40 years ago, I read most of Malamud's novels and stories including Dubin's Lives, God's Grace, The Fixer, The Assistant and The Tenants, and maybe this one collection. I started reading Rembrant's Hat and recognized some of the titles like The Silver Crown and Main in the Drawer and maybe some bits of the plots, but I didn't remember the whole contents. So it was like discovering something new. Malamud examines the conundrum and complexity of being Jewish in the modern world. Sometimes employing fantasy elements as in Talking Horse, an ironic fairy tale with an articulate Jewish horse who feels like he is a man with an abusive deaf-mute owner. I also liked Notes from a Lady at a Dinner Party, a bitter tale of seduction.
A solid collection by a great writer. I especially liked the story "Rembrandt's Hat" tucked away in the middle of this book. It's the story of Rubin the sculptor and Arkin the art historian. Arkin likes Rubin as a person, a feeling not strongly reciprocated.
Still, they begin a tentative foray into friendship. But Arkin is an "art historian" and Rubin is a tortured artist. Malamud gives us the impression Rubin's sculpture is okay-not-great, and that Rubin and later Arkin both come to realize this.
"Rembrandt's Hat" is an emotionally deep and subtle story about misunderstanding, about the ways silence and projection can curdle a relationship.
A good book. I gave it four stars because I didn't really like the final story "Talking Horse." Heavily symbolic, rambling, nuttily brutal at times; it lost me in the middle, although Malamud is a good enough writer to make me read to the end:) But I penalized him a star: payback, meanie that I am.
After further review: The conflict/dominance between Abramowitz (the horse) and Goldberg (the master) could very well be a metaphor for the eternal mind/body conflict. Interesting, but I'm not giving the star back.
Read one of the stories in this book – "Notes from a Lady at a Dinner Party" in which a dangerous flirtation transpires involving the hostess and a friend of her husband's.
The characters are often Jewish and dealing with something negative in their lives.
"The Silver Crown" - A man with a sick father considers hiring a faith healer. "Man in the Drawer" - A vacationing writer meets a Russian taxi driver who is also a struggling writer. "The Letter" - An encounter at a mental hospital. "In Retirement" - A retired man finds a young woman's letter on the floor of their apartment building lobby. "Rembrandt's Hat" - Two colleagues in a university art department. "Notes from a Lady at a Dinner Party" - An architect attends a dinner party at his former mentor's house. "My Son the Murderer" - A widower worries about his son. "Talking Horse" - A talking horse is held captive by a circus owner.
"Notes from a Lady..." and "Man in the Drawer" are my favorites.
Otto racconti, otto storie di personaggi scettici, demoralizzati, inappagati. Non ancora del tutto disillusi, inseguono un sogno, un miraggio di speranza. Cercano un riscatto, una svolta e provano a ottenerli con mezzi a volte concreti e realizzabili altre volte insoliti e ambigui. Ma la svolta non avviene nè nelle storie, prive di colpi di scena o di eventi particolarmente eclatanti, nè tantomeno nelle loro vite. E la ricerca li lascia con un pugno di mosche in mano, forse più delusi di prima. Ci proveranno di nuovo? Con uno stile diretto senza fronzoli, senza una parola fuori posto, Malamud tratta di solitidune, di paura, di depressione, di conflitto generazionale e soprattutto di sconfitta. Sconfitta con rispettabilità, senza scomporsi troppo.
This has been on my to-read list since college, but after an attempt to read it, I don't think it was worth the wait. The first story was really weird, deeply atmospheric, but it felt...wrong somehow. I'm not sure how to explain it. It's like when you have a weird dream that you can't wake up from, but it's not a nightmare, just sort of feverish and uncomfortable.
Also, while I realize that this book was originally published in 1973, the use of certain depictions and terminology of a mentally disabled character definitely left a bad taste in my mouth.
My only regret is that I would have liked to know why there is a centaur on the front cover of the edition I found back in college. The one story I read (and the one I attempted to read) so far didn't mention such a creature.
I picked this up originally from the sci-fi shelves thinking (as had whoever placed it there) that it was sci-fi or fantasy based on the cover. It’s not, and in some ways it’s much stranger than either sci-fi or fantasy. Malamud’s stories are strange: they rarely make complete sense in the conventional sense and they usually (though not always) end ambiguously. In some ways, his story structure reminds me of Chekhov: exploring some element of the human condition, often in close and excruciating detail, and then withdrawing, as if the work is done. That said, I’m giving this the rare full five stars because Malamud’s master of language is astounding—I’ve rarely encountered anything quite like it. Reading it as a writer myself, I was completely blown away.
Primo libro di Malamud per me. Ho amato molto alcuni racconti (Mio figlio l'assassino, Bigliettini di una signora a un pranzo, Il cappello di Rembrandt) e non amato affatto altri (Cavallo parlante, La lettera, A riposo). Arduo, e forse non necessario, fare una media. Proverò con i romanzi. Apprezzata la tensione che si mantiene nei racconti, che nascono, si sviluppano e si risolvono in maniera sempre coerente e piacevole, senza girare su se stessi. Ho trovato la scrittura scorrevole e decisa, ma senza particolari intensità o passaggi degni di nota.
I racconti contenuti ne Il cappello di Rembrandt sono piuttosto cupi, asettici e prevedibili e seppur ambientati negli Stati Uniti – dal momento che Bernard Malamud è nato e cresciuto a Brooklyn ed è quindi americano a tutti gli effetti – sono davvero molto lontani dalle atmosfere che ricerco e che adoro nella narrativa nordamericana.
Raccolta di racconti ineguali per lunghezza e intensità, ma tutti contraddistinti dal trovare spazio in un territorio in bilico tra il possibile e la sua negazione. Su tutti, spiccano quelli di apertura, La corona d'argento e Uomo nel cassetto, storie che in modo diverso mettono in primo piano il possibile evocato da una fiducia promessa e tradita. Lo sguardo di Malamud è sempre vicino ai suoi personaggi, ma non così tanto da non concedergli una preziosa ironia.
"It had occurred to him that he found it easier to judge paintings than to judge people" - Bernard Malamud This is a great little collection of short stories from a legendary fiction author. These stories share a similar theme, some are more mystical than others, some are down right creepy! A good bundle of classic short stories to keep in your collection. They represent a fantastic time in literature.
Astonishing collection, translated by Annemarie Böll and now I have to read the original. Beautiful, and with such sparseness building incredibly rich worlds. Am I old when I feel like saying I CAN LIVE WITH LITERATURE WRITTEN BEFORE 2005 AND I WILL BE HAPPY!"?
A curious collection of short stories that can persuade thoughts out of words -- thoughts of caring, thoughts of sanity, thoughts of family, thoughts of mortal life. In many ways the stories lean on each other; creating ideas between the stories that have no specificly written words to support them.
As is often the case, some stories are timeless and still carry the full "wow" response. Others were probably fresh, unique to when published and we're somewhat desensitized by similar themes; sometimes even expressed better.
It's above average, but didn't quite carry enough weight to deserve classic status.
Malamud has been compared to Philip Roth but I can't see it. All the (short) stories started interestingly, and the style is assured, intelligent and accessible enough. The ideas are good, but each one seemed to run out of momentum for me - I generally got bored 3/4 of the way through each story. They also all finished unsatisfactorily. Yeah I realise this is exactly the point but I just found the endings very frustrating or disappointing - when you really want to find out what happened...err, nothing did. I would also compare this style to Paul Auster or Amos Oz (I am thinking of Scenes from Village Life), but I enjoy both of these authors far more than Malamud.
The one story that I found very interesting (probably my favourite) was Notes from a Lady at a Dinner Party. The idea of sending short, sometimes cryptic notes as a means of flirting or for making sexual advances, notes that do not have to read or responded to immediately...this cleverly foreshadows a very common use of phone text messages nowadays! And this was written in 1973.
Book of short stories. This book made me realized how long it's been since school because the first few stories I just didn't "get." By the end, though, I was enjoying the subtleties and abrupt endings.
I just picked up an old paperback copy of this book. Malamud is considered to be one of the greatest Jewish American writers of the twentieth century. His 1966 novel The Fixer, about antisemitism in Tsarist Russia, won both the National Book Award and the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction.