The Crab Nebula

by Éric Chevillard, Jordan Stump (Translator), Eleanor Hardin (Translator)

The Crab Nebula (La Nébuleuse du crabe) is comprised of fifty-two vivid chapters that provide startling insights into the existence of this nebulous man named his nightmarish—and none too solid—physique, his mysterious absence from the pages of history, his birth in prison, his never having been born at all. In his portrait of Crab, Éric Chevillard gives us a character who is genuinely strange and curiously like ourselves.

 

A postmodernist novel par excellence, The Crab Nebula parodies literary conventions, deconstructs narrative and meaning, and brilliantly combines absurdity and hopelessness with irony and humor. What distinguishes it most of all is the startling originality of Chevillard’s voice and vision. There is whimsy and despair in this novel, pathos and laughter, satire and warm affection.

 

The Crab Nebula is the fifth novel—and the first to be translated into English—by the brilliant young French author Éric Chevillard. His sympathetic yet outrageous portrait of Crab calls to mind works by Melville, Valéry, and Kafka, while never being less than utterly unique.

Genres: France, Fiction, Contemporary, Novels, French Literature, Literary Fiction

128 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1993

About the author

Éric Chevillard is a French novelist. He has won awards for several novels including La nébuleuse du crabe in 1993, which won the Fénéon Prize for Literature.

His work often plays with the codes of narration sometimes to the degree that it is even difficult to understand which story is related in his books, and has consequently been classified as postmodern literature. He has been noted for his associations with Les Éditions de Minuit, a publishing-house largely associated with the leading experimental writers composing in French today.

Reviews

[Vit Babenco · Rating 5 out of 5]

Who is Crab? Crab is a human abstraction. Applying absurdist methods to his associative thinking Éric Chevillard limns an iridescently nebulous portrait of humankind.

Crab was born with webbed feet. His mother kept it a secret. His father beat him. His two brothers and two sisters mocked him cruelly. A sad childhood. But time passes. His parents died. The oldest brother made his career in the army, the other perished in an accident. The first sister married a former varsity shotputter, and the second opened a little selling regional specialties, now fallen on hard times. As for Crab, he became the majestic swan we all know and love.

Collective unconscious and personal madness, conformism and individualism, unique and common, prose and poetry coexist in harmony gradually turning into disharmony and slowly fluctuating back again.

Harmony was established at last, and only one straggler continues to disrupt it with his anxieties, his shames, his endlessly reiterated adolescences. Only man was unable to do away with his consciousness. Rather than providing for his defense and paralyzing his prey, his venom turns against him. Oh, it’s a long, long road that separates this meticulous little wretch from the superior of the carp and the polyp. Carp himself remains far from his goal, and he knows it full well, but at least he is moving in the right direction. And the movement is irreversible. Crab grows more obtuse with each passing day – too slow for his liking, of course, but nevertheless he is making progress. No sooner has he caught up with the monkey than he aims at becoming the equal of the ass.

As above, so below… And man is a miniature reflection of the universe.

[Parastoo Ashtian · Rating 3 out of 5]

کراب شروع می‌کند به کشیدن طرحی از پرستوها، تک به تک، از همه‌ی آن‌ها. و اگر نکند چه کسی جز او این کار را بر عهده خواهد گرفت؟ سختی کارش بیشتر در خطر دو بار کشیدن یک پرستوست ـمسلما تعداد آن‌ها کار را سخت می‌کند، ولی این کار با شکیبایی و پشتکار، که او کم ندارد، شدنی است. خوشبختانه کراب از حافظه‌ی بسیار خوبی برخوردار است. خیلی هم دقت می‌کند. وقتی یک پرستو می‌میرد، طرحی را که از آن کشیده می‌سوزاندـ این سند قدیمی که دیگر به درد نمی خورد.

از متن کتاب

[knig · Rating 5 out of 5]

Because I have too much a conventional mind, I love it when some absolutely bonkers French cheri, completely off his rocker, called Chevillard, becomes my Chevalier in shenanigans of the imaginarium.

Chevillard is a visionary; or he has visions, or at the very least something more than your standard 20/20 vision. In 52 separate and standalone vignettes, he takes up this Crab person, and rearranges him juxtaposed to reality in all kinds of non linear perspective, popping in and out of all known dimensions and into some that have yet to be discovered.

The thought narrative bends and twists at an accelerated rate: layers are added, stripped off, reshaped, repurposed, re-applied, remoulded yet again: the whole thing reads like a writhing, elusive, dada generator-ed code sequence of word bursts. The world is compressed through a diaphragm of some sort of sorites paradox, and origami-ed into plausible nonsensity.

Original, heady stuff. Aaah, these French frogs will be the death of me. Ruling: top of my favourites. Chevillard: call me.

[L.S. Popovich · Rating 4 out of 5]

A wacky bizarro experimental short novel. Crab is the central character, a primordial sort of entity, described by an unreliable chronicler who constantly contradicts himself. The reader is left to determine which side stories and origin tidbits to believe and which to disregard. A random assortment of charming anecdotes comprised of possible automatic writings about the locus humanoid Crab, and well-timed jokes riffing on existential absurdities. A unique and playful collection of disparate scenes stemming from a love of goofy satire and belligerent incoherence. Lots of animals get compared in various ways to our anti-hero, and few other characters make an appearance. A constantly surprising dream-book where surrealism supplies the tinder for a wildfire of creativity.

[Pooya Kiani · Rating 4 out of 5]

خودکشی یعنی شکستنِ یک درِ باز.

[Clark Knowles · Rating 5 out of 5]

The Crab Nebula by Eric Chevillard is not so much nonsense as anti-sense. At the same time, it is full of sense, both of this world, and of another. It is truly strange and funny and very, very French. I can think of nothing else like it.

[Mercedé Khodadadi · Rating 3 out of 5]

بخشی از کتاب: «دورانی بود بین پانزده تا بیست‌سالگی کراب، که او هر شب با خط خرچنگ‌قورباغه چند کلمه‌ای می‌نوشت که توضیح می‌داد چرا تصمیم گرفته تمامش کند و در خواب به زندگی خودش پایان بدهد، و آن را پیش از خاموش کردن چراغْ روی میز عسلی‌اش درست جلوی چشم می‌گذاشت، و بیدار که می‌شد پاره‌اش می‌کرد. دلیل‌های موجه کم نبودند، روز سپری‌شده همیشه به او یک خروار انگیزه می‌‌داد که همیشه با انگیزه‌های روز قبل متفاوت بودند و هیچ‌چیز نبود که او را دوباره به زندگی بند کند.»

محتوای کتاب خیلی نظم و منطق مشخصی نداشت،‌ شاید برای همین نویسنده عنوان سحابی رو روش گذاشته، اجزای کتاب مثل یک سحابی درون هم می‌چرخن

توی بخشی از معرفینامه‌ی نویسنده در سایت گودریدز هم نوشته شده: در آثار او غالباً با روایت‌ها گاه به حدی بازی می‌شود که درک ارتباط داستان‌ها در کتاب‌های وی دشوار است و به همین دلیل به عنوان ادبیات پسامدرن طبقه بندی شده است

اریک شوویار به خاطر نوشتن این رمان برنده جایزه فنئون شده. کتاب پنجمین اثر اونه و در سال 1993 منتشر شده

[S̶e̶a̶n̶ · Rating 3 out of 5]

Chevillard maps the outer reaches of the novel form, while in the process calling into bold question whether there are in fact actual outer reaches or simply various arbitrarily assigned borders beyond which stretches a black void of infinity. Several times I was tempted to abandon this due to its wildly disparate wanderings from chapter to chapter, and sometimes even from paragraph to paragraph. But Chevillard's alluring serpentine style kept drawing me back in. Best read in small stretches, as the prose demands close attention. (3.5)

[Daniel KML · Rating 5 out of 5]

La Nébuleuse du crabe is composed of 52 short poetic chapters covering the life (and non-life) of the novel's main character Crab. Beckett is a major influence as the character is confronted with lots of surreal and absurd situations, and you also can find you fair share of digressions on death and nothingness.

And who is Crab? Crab is anyone, is no one, never existed, is forever there, is inside each of us and outside each of us, is a stage artist, a clown, an ant, an elephant or a pile of dirt, etc, Crab is everything and also the exact opposite of everything.

[Ali Mousighidan · Rating 2 out of 5]

توقعی که داشتم و برآورده نکرد.

[Ploppy · Rating 5 out of 5]

When Crab was asked to write a review about his very own biography, he wondered how he would be able to judge it. First of all, who was this mysterious Eric Chevillard whom he had never met, and what could he possibly want to do with a life defined by change, without any sort of unifying element to it. And more importantly, would he judge it according to its faithfulness, or its literary merit? Crab himself was not exactly sure of what he had and had not lived, but he definitely didn't want there to be any lies told about him. It would be silly of him not the use the advantage of having lived through his life's events in order to base his review on the author's truthfulness. Unless, of course, his fictional nature meant that he could not, ontologically speaking, have lived through anything other than what had been written.
And then he realised all of a sudden that these questions were pointless, for he had never learned to read.

[Madhuri · Rating 3 out of 5]

There is no coherent narrative here. Not even a semblance of an interest on the author's part to engage, entertain, invite the reader. None of the snippets make any sense whatsoever.
And yet, these snippets seem like they have come out of a grown up Calvin's imaginary world. His hero can do everything, be everything, but be invisible and a nobody. Some of the chapters really touch a nerve, a thought you may have once had in passing, and it feels good to see it on paper. There is one piece in which crab is brought up by many mothers and devours many of them. Another in which at birth someone puts him in the geriatric ward, and he learns to speak the words of many dying men without understanding anything.
Read it for the absurdity of imagination.

[Chuck LoPresti · Rating 4 out of 5]

Something like a Svankmajer meets Renard and LaFontaine. Reads a bit like Calvino with mostly laconic and well crafted prose. More observant than judgmental, but the fabulist approach isn’t without a bit of concern of virtue. Like Hrabal.. it’s rooted in a very simple framing that suddenly floats upward. Unique in its ability to send me into oneiric recollection, something Frederic Gros errantly said only happens when walking. I really felt transported by this little book of magic. The intro is great…and it’s that chain of Rabelais-Jarry-Everything else worth your time in French literature that flows on with Chevillard. Seems like it took a bit to sink in… but it became one of those books that I didn’t want to end. Like Renard and maybe even Pessoa… it’s a collection of entries more than a story where the process of contemplation itself is the real protagonist. You'll put it all back together on your terms if you need to.

[Mehrdad · Rating 2 out of 5]

قبل از اینکه بگم این کتاب چی هست، اون چیزایی که نیست رو میگم!
این کتاب یک داستان نیست. فلسفه هم نیست. طنز هم نیست. شخصیت اصلی هم یک شخصیت واحد نیست.
اما یه جاها هم یک نفره!
هدف کتاب و مضمون کلیش بیان "ملال" و به قول سونسن، عدم وجود معنا که علتِ ایجاد ملاله، بود.
کراب یا همون خرچنگ داستان ما، میتونه هرکسی باشه پس شخصیت پردازی براش بی معناست.
شیوه ارائه مطلب به صورت چیزای چندین اپیزود جداگانه ست که با کلمات و لحنی به شدت ساده و گاهی طنز بیان شده.
اما راستش من خیلی دوسش نداشتم. چون در نهایت نه داستان گفت برام نه فلسفه بافی کرد نه هیچی.
فقط طرح مساله ای رو کرد که اگه تا حالا بهش فکر نکرده باشید، اونقدرا ارتباط نمیگیرید باهاش و اگرم فکر کرده باشید و دنبال کتاب براش رفته باشید، قطعا کتابای بهتری رو خوندید از قبل!

[Marcus · Rating 4 out of 5]

What a weird book. If it was an audiobook, it would sound like the delusions of a madman. Pretty good IMO.

[Micah · Rating 5 out of 5]

I don't think I have yet to find a book that confused and amused me quite so much as this text. La Nébuleuse du Crabe is a particularly challenging text, rendered more approachable by Jordan Stump's translation. I read this text the first time with both the original and translation at my disposal, reading each 'conte' in French first and then in English. Not only was it a wonderful learning experience for my language skills, but an especially troubling and hilarious one as well for my tastes in literature. This nebulous Crabe builds a house from the foundation and up, only to commit suicide by throwing himself out the window. This same intangible character finds that burrowing down inside the innards of a crocodile is the ideal living environment. Here he is safe from environmental hazards due to the hard carapace and also receives fresh meals on a regular basis. I cannot recommend this playful text any higher than I already have.

[Jay · Rating 5 out of 5]

Like cold, creamy ice cream

[Zach Werbalowsky · Rating 5 out of 5]

the kind of writing I love to see. Strange and accessible, non linear, poetic. It is very re-readable. like a weirder james tate poetry book only a novel.

[Dylan Kiewel · Rating 3 out of 5]

akin to eating crab; a lot of work for not much meat but the little you get lingers on the tongue and makes you want more. as far as this kind of existential themed literary trickery goes tho i'll take my man flann o'brien over this any day.

[Andrew · Rating 4 out of 5]

The 4- or 5-star choice was a tough one to make.
I really enjoyed this book, which was translated by a prof I had at UNL (Dr. Jordan Stump). It was utterly strange and très French.

[Christophe · Rating 1 out of 5]

Very original. That said, very dull too.

[Lili · Rating 4 out of 5]

الان فهمیدم شوویار چندتا کار دیگه هم نوشته، سراغ اون‌ها هم می‌رم

[Zoey · Rating 5 out of 5]

I’m giving this 5 stars— It’s bonkers. Nonsense. No plot. All Crab.

Phenomenal translation into English!!

[Micah · Rating 5 out of 5]

A great translation of a great book. I read this translation at the same time as the original text in French by Eric Chevillard in order to develop my French language skills. This text is unique for sure while still evoquing the character, Plume, from Une Certaine Plume by Michaux. So very strange and terribly amusing, this book will definitely entertain a reader familiar with Chevillard's other works. If this worked for you in French, I'd suggest Un Fantôme by Chevillard - a continuation of the hilarity found in La Nébuleuse du Crabe.

[Scott Maize · Rating 1 out of 5]

This book is ridiculous. Reading this book is the equivalent of seeing a band that has one player wailing on their instrument without playing any true note or melody, the drummer not keeping a beat and just hitting the drum repeatedly, a singer moaning out vocals out of key and some white guy in a ponytail dancing in the background in his underwear. You turn to a member in the audience and ask what it is you are listening/watching and he responds "it's progressive. It's avant-garde" This is what I like to call, pure,literary wankery.

[Eddie Watkins]

Might have to try this some other time... Right now it's ringing hollow. Funny, sure, but I'm not convinced there's much more there than facile invention and a sensibility in a predetermined rut of self-annihilated bleakness in the guise of "progressive" literature.

Read that Chevillard was linked/compared to Michaux, so this morning dropped him and shifted to Michaux, who gave me what I needed.

[Steven · Rating 4 out of 5]

ok, so I also read it 6 years ago. it was a gift and I liked it just fine but I also forgot I read it 6 years ago so I wouldn't file it under "life-changing"if you get me?

[علیرضا تعبدی]

حدس اینکه،کتاب از چه موجودی صحبت می کند دشوار هست ولی به هر حال جهان بینی منحصر به فردی را در اختیار خواننده می گذارد.