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Mantissa
In Mantissa (1982), a novelist awakes in the hospital with amnesia -- and comes to believe that a beautiful female doctor is, in fact, his muse.
208 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1982
74 people are currently reading
1422 people want to read
About the author
John Fowles
119 books2,960 followersJohn Robert Fowles was born in Leigh-on-Sea, a small town in Essex. He recalled the English suburban culture of the 1930s as oppressively conformist and his family life as intensely conventional. Of his childhood, Fowles said "I have tried to escape ever since."
Fowles attended Bedford School, a large boarding school designed to prepare boys for university, from ages 13 to 18. After briefly attending the University of Edinburgh, Fowles began compulsory military service in 1945 with training at Dartmoor, where he spent the next two years. World War II ended shortly after his training began so Fowles never came near combat, and by 1947 he had decided that the military life was not for him.
Fowles then spent four years at Oxford, where he discovered the writings of the French existentialists. In particular he admired Albert Camus and Jean-Paul Sartre, whose writings corresponded with his own ideas about conformity and the will of the individual. He received a degree in French in 1950 and began to consider a career as a writer.
Several teaching jobs followed: a year lecturing in English literature at the University of Poitiers, France; two years teaching English at Anargyrios College on the Greek island of Spetsai; and finally, between 1954 and 1963, teaching English at St. Godric's College in London, where he ultimately served as the department head.
The time spent in Greece was of great importance to Fowles. During his tenure on the island he began to write poetry and to overcome a long-time repression about writing. Between 1952 and 1960 he wrote several novels but offered none to a publisher, considering them all incomplete in some way and too lengthy.
In late 1960 Fowles completed the first draft of The Collector in just four weeks. He continued to revise it until the summer of 1962, when he submitted it to a publisher; it appeared in the spring of 1963 and was an immediate best-seller. The critical acclaim and commercial success of the book allowed Fowles to devote all of his time to writing.
The Aristos, a collection of philosophical thoughts and musings on art, human nature and other subjects, appeared the following year. Then in 1965, The Magus - drafts of which Fowles had been working on for over a decade - was published.
The most commercially successful of Fowles' novels, The French Lieutenant's Woman, appeared in 1969. It resembles a Victorian novel in structure and detail, while pushing the traditional boundaries of narrative in a very modern manner.
In the 1970s Fowles worked on a variety of literary projects--including a series of essays on nature--and in 1973 he published a collection of poetry, Poems.
Daniel Martin, a long and somewhat autobiographical novel spanning over 40 years in the life of a screenwriter, appeared in 1977, along with a revised version of The Magus. These were followed by Mantissa (1982), a fable about a novelist's struggle with his muse; and A Maggot (1985), an 18th century mystery which combines science fiction and history.
In addition to The Aristos, Fowles wrote a variety of non-fiction pieces including many essays, reviews, and forewords/afterwords to other writers' novels. He also wrote the text for several photographic compilations.
From 1968, Fowles lived in the small harbour town of Lyme Regis, Dorset. His interest in the town's local history resulted in his appointment as curator of the Lyme Regis Museum in 1979, a position he filled for a decade.
Wormholes, a book of essays, was published in May 1998. The first comprehensive biography on Fowles, John Fowles: A Life in Two Worlds, was published in 2004, and the first volume of his journals appeared the same year (followed recently by volume two).
John Fowles passed away on November 5, 2005 after a long illness.
Fowles attended Bedford School, a large boarding school designed to prepare boys for university, from ages 13 to 18. After briefly attending the University of Edinburgh, Fowles began compulsory military service in 1945 with training at Dartmoor, where he spent the next two years. World War II ended shortly after his training began so Fowles never came near combat, and by 1947 he had decided that the military life was not for him.
Fowles then spent four years at Oxford, where he discovered the writings of the French existentialists. In particular he admired Albert Camus and Jean-Paul Sartre, whose writings corresponded with his own ideas about conformity and the will of the individual. He received a degree in French in 1950 and began to consider a career as a writer.
Several teaching jobs followed: a year lecturing in English literature at the University of Poitiers, France; two years teaching English at Anargyrios College on the Greek island of Spetsai; and finally, between 1954 and 1963, teaching English at St. Godric's College in London, where he ultimately served as the department head.
The time spent in Greece was of great importance to Fowles. During his tenure on the island he began to write poetry and to overcome a long-time repression about writing. Between 1952 and 1960 he wrote several novels but offered none to a publisher, considering them all incomplete in some way and too lengthy.
In late 1960 Fowles completed the first draft of The Collector in just four weeks. He continued to revise it until the summer of 1962, when he submitted it to a publisher; it appeared in the spring of 1963 and was an immediate best-seller. The critical acclaim and commercial success of the book allowed Fowles to devote all of his time to writing.
The Aristos, a collection of philosophical thoughts and musings on art, human nature and other subjects, appeared the following year. Then in 1965, The Magus - drafts of which Fowles had been working on for over a decade - was published.
The most commercially successful of Fowles' novels, The French Lieutenant's Woman, appeared in 1969. It resembles a Victorian novel in structure and detail, while pushing the traditional boundaries of narrative in a very modern manner.
In the 1970s Fowles worked on a variety of literary projects--including a series of essays on nature--and in 1973 he published a collection of poetry, Poems.
Daniel Martin, a long and somewhat autobiographical novel spanning over 40 years in the life of a screenwriter, appeared in 1977, along with a revised version of The Magus. These were followed by Mantissa (1982), a fable about a novelist's struggle with his muse; and A Maggot (1985), an 18th century mystery which combines science fiction and history.
In addition to The Aristos, Fowles wrote a variety of non-fiction pieces including many essays, reviews, and forewords/afterwords to other writers' novels. He also wrote the text for several photographic compilations.
From 1968, Fowles lived in the small harbour town of Lyme Regis, Dorset. His interest in the town's local history resulted in his appointment as curator of the Lyme Regis Museum in 1979, a position he filled for a decade.
Wormholes, a book of essays, was published in May 1998. The first comprehensive biography on Fowles, John Fowles: A Life in Two Worlds, was published in 2004, and the first volume of his journals appeared the same year (followed recently by volume two).
John Fowles passed away on November 5, 2005 after a long illness.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 172 reviews
June 21, 2022
Mantissa is a novel in which a writer ostensibly meets his muse – and this is quite symptomatic, because Mantissa is a book in which his muse had left John Fowles.
But even a hypothetical muse knows enough about writers…
But some thoughts about postmodernism seem to be curiously actual.
The further is creative thought from reality the weirder is the result.
But even a hypothetical muse knows enough about writers…
“And I’ll tell you what a modern satyr is. He’s someone who invents a woman on paper so that he can force her to say and do things no real woman in her right mind ever would.”
But some thoughts about postmodernism seem to be curiously actual.
The reflective novel is sixty years dead, Erato. What do you think modernism was about? Let alone post-modernism. Even the dumbest students know it’s a reflexive medium now, not a reflective one.
Serious modern fiction has only one subject: the difficulty of writing serious modern fiction. First, it has fully accepted that it is only fiction, can only be fiction, will never be anything but fiction, and therefore has no business at all tampering with real life or reality.
The further is creative thought from reality the weirder is the result.
Want to read
October 12, 2015Oh, John. Good lord. The author of two of my favorite novels (
The Magus
and
The Collector
) has failed me. I read the first section, which is 45 pages, and 8 pages of the second section, then literally said to myself, What am I doing? This book is terrible.
So I stopped. What a turgid, ham-fisted bore this novel is! I'm amazed, because I usually find Fowles's work so engaging. But this, this was a slog. It reminded me of another book I didn't finish ( Giles Goat-Boy ) in that it's so steeped in its own metaphor that it became unbearably difficult to care about the words on the page, because those words weren't telling a story, they were Making A Point. To which I say, Enough already, I get it! But the Point is the only point, meaning the book just isn't for me.
So I stopped. What a turgid, ham-fisted bore this novel is! I'm amazed, because I usually find Fowles's work so engaging. But this, this was a slog. It reminded me of another book I didn't finish ( Giles Goat-Boy ) in that it's so steeped in its own metaphor that it became unbearably difficult to care about the words on the page, because those words weren't telling a story, they were Making A Point. To which I say, Enough already, I get it! But the Point is the only point, meaning the book just isn't for me.
December 24, 2014
I love John Fowles' other novels like The Magus but there is a reason I had never heard of this book before stumbling across it at a used bookstore. This is like a meta-novel, reflecting on the muses and post-modernism, and I think probably only interesting to John in the moment he mused on muses, and not for long after.
The self-aware characters!
"She looks at him over her glasses. 'I'm supposed to be a twentieth-century woman, Miles. By definition I'm in despair.'"
The self-referential descriptions of writing!
"Our oblique and tentative dialogue counterpointed by those vistas of thousands of detumescent vegetable penises."
(Well, bonus points for the use of detumescent.)
Musings on literary movements!
"The reflective novel is sixty years dead, Erato. What do you think modernism was about? Let alone post-modernism. Even the dumbest students know it's a reflexive medium now, not a reflective one."
Critiques of literature!
"Serious modern fiction has only one subject: the difficulty of writing serious modern fiction. First, it has fully accepted that it is only fiction, can only be fiction, will never be anything but fiction, and therefore has no business at all tampering with real life or reality.... The natural consequence of this is that writing about fiction has become a far more important manner than writing fiction itself. It's one of the best ways you can tell the true novelist nowadays. He's not going to waste his time over the messy garage-mechanic drudge of assembling stories and characters on paper."
Self-awareness of what this very book is trying to do!
"Obviously [the novelist] has at some point to write something, just to show how irrelevant and unnecessary the actual writing part of it is."
And the usual Fowles misogyny, which comes across as far more clever in a character than spelled out here:
"Then be a woman, and enjoy it. But don't try to think in addition. Just accept that that's the way the biological cards have fallen. You can't have a male brain and intellect as well as a mania for being the universal girlfriend."
Yeah.... ugh. Stay away.
The self-aware characters!
"She looks at him over her glasses. 'I'm supposed to be a twentieth-century woman, Miles. By definition I'm in despair.'"
The self-referential descriptions of writing!
"Our oblique and tentative dialogue counterpointed by those vistas of thousands of detumescent vegetable penises."
(Well, bonus points for the use of detumescent.)
Musings on literary movements!
"The reflective novel is sixty years dead, Erato. What do you think modernism was about? Let alone post-modernism. Even the dumbest students know it's a reflexive medium now, not a reflective one."
Critiques of literature!
"Serious modern fiction has only one subject: the difficulty of writing serious modern fiction. First, it has fully accepted that it is only fiction, can only be fiction, will never be anything but fiction, and therefore has no business at all tampering with real life or reality.... The natural consequence of this is that writing about fiction has become a far more important manner than writing fiction itself. It's one of the best ways you can tell the true novelist nowadays. He's not going to waste his time over the messy garage-mechanic drudge of assembling stories and characters on paper."
Self-awareness of what this very book is trying to do!
"Obviously [the novelist] has at some point to write something, just to show how irrelevant and unnecessary the actual writing part of it is."
And the usual Fowles misogyny, which comes across as far more clever in a character than spelled out here:
"Then be a woman, and enjoy it. But don't try to think in addition. Just accept that that's the way the biological cards have fallen. You can't have a male brain and intellect as well as a mania for being the universal girlfriend."
Yeah.... ugh. Stay away.
January 28, 2018
http://www.freepatentsonline.com/arti...
http://anglisztika.ektf.hu/new/conten...
İleri okuma yapmadan metni sadece kısmen anlamak mümkün. Geri kalan kısmı da okuyucunun kapasitesine göre anlaşıldı sanılabilir ancak : )
Mantissa, ana metne yapılan gereksiz katkılar demekmiş. Yazarımız kitabın adında bile kadınları inceden yererek işe başlıyor. Kadın ilhamının erkek aklı üzerindeki marjinal katkısına bir gönderme yaptığını düşünmek olası bu kitap ismiyle.
Kitap, bitmeyen kadın/erkek egosu mücadelesinin epik bir anlatımı adeta. Büyük ölçüde -her zaman olduğu gibi- kadınlara yüklenilmiş ama zayıflık abidesi erkek bireye de giydirilmekten kaçınılmamış.
Çok öznel bir metin. John Fowles, bu metni kendi keyfi için yazıp sonradan "acaba yayımlasam mı" demiş olabilir.
Sonuçta mecburiyet kaynaklı bir yenme/yenilme hikayesi bu. İki tarafın da başka çaresi yok.
http://anglisztika.ektf.hu/new/conten...
İleri okuma yapmadan metni sadece kısmen anlamak mümkün. Geri kalan kısmı da okuyucunun kapasitesine göre anlaşıldı sanılabilir ancak : )
Mantissa, ana metne yapılan gereksiz katkılar demekmiş. Yazarımız kitabın adında bile kadınları inceden yererek işe başlıyor. Kadın ilhamının erkek aklı üzerindeki marjinal katkısına bir gönderme yaptığını düşünmek olası bu kitap ismiyle.
Kitap, bitmeyen kadın/erkek egosu mücadelesinin epik bir anlatımı adeta. Büyük ölçüde -her zaman olduğu gibi- kadınlara yüklenilmiş ama zayıflık abidesi erkek bireye de giydirilmekten kaçınılmamış.
Çok öznel bir metin. John Fowles, bu metni kendi keyfi için yazıp sonradan "acaba yayımlasam mı" demiş olabilir.
Sonuçta mecburiyet kaynaklı bir yenme/yenilme hikayesi bu. İki tarafın da başka çaresi yok.
November 28, 2019
This is a proper curio which I picked up after reading The Magus. The story of a writer with amnesia talking (and otherwise interacting) with his muse, the bad reviews and relative obscurity of the book tempted me and I wasn't disappointed.
This is a bad novel, full of awful, seventies sexist crap; plenty of waffle and beardy intellectual verbiage too - but it's also hilariously, sometimes even seriously, fascinating. For me it fitted right into a catagory of books which I love - junk by "famous" authors which were published purely because of the writers´ reputations - see The Tommyknockers by Stephen King for another great example. If this was Fowles first attempt you can imagine the reaction of any reader, let alone editor, at any publishing house.
On the plus side, it's short and easy to read. Fowles is a good writer, too, in the sense that DH Lawrence is - they could write a shopping list, as the saying goes, and it would be interesting. The whole thing is as 70s as Gerald Ford, The Joy of Sex and Ford Capris - and the sexual politics hilariously, wonderfully, gobsmackingly jarring.
Well worth a gander if you're even midly interested.
This is a bad novel, full of awful, seventies sexist crap; plenty of waffle and beardy intellectual verbiage too - but it's also hilariously, sometimes even seriously, fascinating. For me it fitted right into a catagory of books which I love - junk by "famous" authors which were published purely because of the writers´ reputations - see The Tommyknockers by Stephen King for another great example. If this was Fowles first attempt you can imagine the reaction of any reader, let alone editor, at any publishing house.
On the plus side, it's short and easy to read. Fowles is a good writer, too, in the sense that DH Lawrence is - they could write a shopping list, as the saying goes, and it would be interesting. The whole thing is as 70s as Gerald Ford, The Joy of Sex and Ford Capris - and the sexual politics hilariously, wonderfully, gobsmackingly jarring.
Well worth a gander if you're even midly interested.
January 24, 2016
Ne desem bilemiyorum. Öncelikle bunu bir roman olarak ele almak bana doğru gelmiyor şuan. Bu yaratıcı-ilham verici / kadın-erkek arasında kurgulanmış, yoğun mitolojik, psikolojik ve felsefik kodlarla dolu, postmodern bir diyalektikle ilerleyen bir kitap. Haliyle yazarın diğer kitapları gibi bir solukta okunacak gibi değil. Zorlayıcı. Genellikle zorlayan kitaplar okumaktan kaçmam fakat bu kitabı "Büyücü" gibi aşkla okuyacağımı düşünerek, o tarz bir beklenti ile elime alınca biraz tökezledim. Yine de yetersiz mitoloji bilgisinin kitabın bir bölümünü anlaşılmaz kılacağını söyleyebilirim. Yazarın meraklıları ve kitabın temasına meraklı olabilecek okurlar dışında illa ki okuyun demem. Çok büyük yazar, yine kendini hissettiriyor, fakat bu sefer çok daha matematiksel, sistemli ve düşünsel şekilde!
January 14, 2022
Self-centered metaphorical meta-masturbation gone awry
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October 12, 2020When I first read the one-two-three punch of Gravity's Rainbow, Giles Goat-Boy, and The Magus as a bright-eyed 17 or 18 year old kid, I knew I was peering into a whole new world. I'd done my training rounds with Vonnegut, Heller, Kerouac, and Hunter S. -- now it was time to level up.
John Fowles wrote a few novellas, each of which could have had value in their own right and were treated as such (and fuck, I liked the first part, which was funny and bitchy, even if it did that awful shit where a writer gets TOTALLY LAID, BRO!). But instead they were placed within a kind of crummy framework. Sure, Fowles' writing style is as great as ever, but Mantissa feels like a could-have-been, and for that it is almost a more frustrating experience than a straight-up bad book.
John Fowles wrote a few novellas, each of which could have had value in their own right and were treated as such (and fuck, I liked the first part, which was funny and bitchy, even if it did that awful shit where a writer gets TOTALLY LAID, BRO!). But instead they were placed within a kind of crummy framework. Sure, Fowles' writing style is as great as ever, but Mantissa feels like a could-have-been, and for that it is almost a more frustrating experience than a straight-up bad book.
July 28, 2022
Fowles is a new author to me. The bookshop didn't have his 'Magus' in stock, so I settled on this slim volume instead. I found it a quirky and humorous story which showcases Fowles' prodigious writing gifts well. I'm looking forward to the more substantial work from his oeuvre. 3,5 stars.
April 5, 2017
Üzgünüm ama tam bir hayal kırıklığı, buram buram cinsellik kokan, sürekli değişen kurgunun içinde çok sevdiğim yunan mitlerinden bile soğutan bir kitap...
Başladığım kitabı yarım bırakmamak gibi bir ilkem olduğu için bitirdim. Bir süre John Fowles okumam.
Başladığım kitabı yarım bırakmamak gibi bir ilkem olduğu için bitirdim. Bir süre John Fowles okumam.
February 4, 2022
I absolutely love John Fowles but i have no idea what he was trying to achieve with this book??? I literally have no idea how to begin to explain this book, it honestly feels like a fever dream??
January 10, 2022
Bruh the fuck was this
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April 13, 2023Awful, pretentious and perverted. I only finished it because I have a rule about finishing books. This should not be read. It’s not even that it’s outdated, it’s also just bad.
He tries to invent a plot half way through by bringing in Greek myths and Freud like a bumbling old man. Having studied classics because you were born into an upper middle class family in the early 1900’s doesn’t mean you need to sprinkle jargon into your porn book. Fuck you John Fowles, you have a forgettable name and an unfortunately bad book!
He tries to invent a plot half way through by bringing in Greek myths and Freud like a bumbling old man. Having studied classics because you were born into an upper middle class family in the early 1900’s doesn’t mean you need to sprinkle jargon into your porn book. Fuck you John Fowles, you have a forgettable name and an unfortunately bad book!
September 19, 2012
This is the furiously powerful mind of Fowles scrutinising the form and subject and process of his novels, his instincts as an artist, and himself within the strange 'walls' of fiction. It is critical, unflattering, amusing, fascinating and demanding. I found it a joyful, easy read, but unless one is a serious writer or student of literature the qualities of this book may be difficult to fathom. It is enormously focused, and seems a microscopic study of the cerebral and creative powers which presented the characters of his previous works. In that sense, it is perhaps an 'Inside the Actors Studio' of novel-craft, or a Stanislavski-type yarn, a 'realities-bending' fiction. His expression of being a man of his era as well as a feminist, a man both so finely tuned to the feminine mind, as well as one ready to admit it could still baffle a part of him, set as it is in direct parallel to artistic endeavour, was particularly courageous. A most sublime read for those interested in such topics; and perhaps a gruelling bore to those who aren't.
January 11, 2012
“Mantissa”, is a meta-fictional curiosity that makes for an interesting read. I enjoyed the symbolic room which brought the reader into the fictional writer's brain. There he conversed, warred and made love with his fictional female character in ping pong fashion. One minute he had the upper hand, the next moment she did; back and forth it proceeded until, in the end, they both fell helplessly into each others arms. Her character changed repeatedly, from a Goth boi to a demur, sensitive young girl. In the end, it could be said that the fictional male writer was at war with his inner male and female self. For the most part it was a fun, if not neurotic read. However, the author, John Fowles, carried his concept to an extreme; he pushed it a few chapters too far with excruciating redundancy. Thus, by the last chapter, I had lost all interest and had no desire to finish the book. A few chapters less, rounded out, in Fowles own fashion, would have made for wonderful novel, beginning to end.
January 12, 2022
Was very tempted to give this 2 stars at some point due to the postmodern efforts made, but ended up giving it one as I don't think I gained anything from it. If I had to describe literary vomit on a page, this would be it.Hardly anything made sense, and I was wondering what the hell Fowles was thinking writing this woeful novella - fair to say I won't be rereading (the elusive subject matter and baffling dialogue sadly weren't saved by the poor grammatical choices made here - which I'm sure weren't intentional). If you're looking for a convoluted mash up of pretentious jargon - there's plenty here.
October 21, 2018
Çok beğendim, beyin yakan türden bir üstkurmaca eseri, anlamlandırması kolay değil. Böyle olduğu için de bazı kimseler için sevimsiz bir eser olabilir. Kesinlikle ama kesinlikle tek yönlü değil "çok yönlü" okumalara açık bir metin. Sadece metindeki metaforlar için bile dönüp ikinci defa sindire sindire okunmalı. Kadın-erkek ilişkileri, kimlikler, varoluşçuluk gibi konu ve kavramlarla bezenmiş, zekice kurgulanmış bir eser.
November 16, 2024
Fowles is responsible for two wonderful books in "The French Lieutenant's Woman" and "The Collector". The former remains one of the most influential novels I've read, but this...oh deary me...An absolute train wreck - a total mess...I don't want to talk about it...
January 21, 2023
I consider John Fowles as one of the greatest authors of all time but this one did not ring the bell to me. I liked the idea of the book but I did not feel the urge of reading it and the striking aspect of other masterpieces of his. I wished I had read this one before The Magus and The Collector. Maybe the problem derives from me so if you feel like I made a mistake here please hit me up with your comments.
September 8, 2018
This book was tetrorchideously longer than it needed to be. Might have made a cute short story.
February 28, 2019
So, ever since reading The Collector, I've been intrigued with Fowles's work. I bought a couple of Vintage editions of his most well-known novels. Last Tuesday, I wanted something to read on the train, so I grabbed this one from my bookshelf. I read the first two sentences of the synopsis - "Miles Green wakes up in a mysterious hospital with no idea of how he got there or who he is. He definitely doesn't remember his wife, nor his children's names." - and decided this was OK to read on the train.
Boy, was I wrong. I mean, I wasn't, but I was. It wasn't as innocent as I thought. I could have known. If only I had kept reading, it would have been clear that it wasn't just a mind-fucky book: "An impossibly shapely specialist doctor tells him his memory nerve-centre is connected to sexual activit, and calls in the even shapelier Nurse Cory to assist with treatment..." And so it continues.
Don't get me wrong. There's much and much more beyond this, as there is in most of Fowles's works. The clinically pornographic parts of this novel are truly clinical and serve their purpose well. They are mere metaphors of what the novel is actually about. Through dreamlike sequences, it becomes clear that this is a work about this work and its tropes, not about the actual plot. A classic Fowles novel. If you like Fowles, you'll like this. The bottom line: don't be ashamed to take it on the train.
Boy, was I wrong. I mean, I wasn't, but I was. It wasn't as innocent as I thought. I could have known. If only I had kept reading, it would have been clear that it wasn't just a mind-fucky book: "An impossibly shapely specialist doctor tells him his memory nerve-centre is connected to sexual activit, and calls in the even shapelier Nurse Cory to assist with treatment..." And so it continues.
Don't get me wrong. There's much and much more beyond this, as there is in most of Fowles's works. The clinically pornographic parts of this novel are truly clinical and serve their purpose well. They are mere metaphors of what the novel is actually about. Through dreamlike sequences, it becomes clear that this is a work about this work and its tropes, not about the actual plot. A classic Fowles novel. If you like Fowles, you'll like this. The bottom line: don't be ashamed to take it on the train.
December 2, 2008
John Fowles' The Magus is my favourite book but for I did not find Mantissa an enjoyable book. My knowledge of Greek Mythology and the Muses is very limited, as is my knowledge of modernism, post-modernism and theory of literature. Thus, I may have missed many of the points he was trying to put across. In some parts I enjoyed his verbal jousting and sparring with his two characters, but eventually I tired of being yanked back into reality and the theory of the modern novel. As I said before, I may have appreciated it more if I had an overview of modernism and thus an appreciation of what he was ridiculing/making an example of, but ultimatley the book became rather tedious and I was happy when it was finished.
The opening chapter is really brilliant. I thought I was in for another weird and twisted treat but alas then the reality checks come in and it all became rather like Greek to me..
The opening chapter is really brilliant. I thought I was in for another weird and twisted treat but alas then the reality checks come in and it all became rather like Greek to me..
September 22, 2009
Fowles self-parody; his most comic novel (although there aren't many belly-laughs). The protagonist immediately finds himself in a padded cell in some sort of asylum. It quickly becomes apparent that the entire scenario is a metaphor for Fowles' mind, the writing of his novels, and his response to literary criticism. Mantissa also reveals much about Fowles' writing process and literary outlook. Fowles admitted it was a bagatelle, a mere side-note novel (hence the title), but I found the book more satisfying than that. Adult fare.
August 30, 2007
while clever, it was writing at its most self indulgent, and that can alienate the reader. i enjoy a book that pulls the rug out from under me to a point, but an author can only do that so many times before trust is lost and you don't care about the characters anymore. plus i'm not big into the breaking the fourth wall trend that swept the arts in the 80's. i like the fourth wall where it is, it's why i read fiction!
April 4, 2023
john fowles’ın eşsiz zihnini ve üslubunu seviyorum bu kurgusunu da ayrı bir sevdim, diyalogları ve kişileştirmeleri öyle zekice kurgulanmıştı ki keyifle okudum, yalnız herkes için bir başlangıç romanı olmayacaktır. Ne kadar kısa olsa da yoğun bir içerikle karşı karşıyayız, öte yandan okurken temel bir mitoloji bilgisine de gerek duyulduğunu söyleyebilirim. Bilgi birikimi kendisine hayran bırakan bir yazar Fowles.
May 23, 2010
[This note was made in 1983:]. John Fowles' Mantissa left me perplexed - not because I couldn't figure out that it's a novel about the creative process; that much stares you in the face - but because I can't quite put my finger on why it leaves a bad taste in my mouth (said she, madly mixing metaphors). Perhaps the book's streak of narcissism was just too broad for my priggish tastes?
October 5, 2011
I love John Fowles, but this is ridiculous. It's one of those things where you feel like you've been hanging out at someone's house for dinner and you realize they've spent the last three hours talking about how Seriously Awesome they are in every way, and you just want to go home and forget the evening entirely because there was nothing of actual value in the whole thing.
June 9, 2012
Meta masturbation at its boringly finest.
October 25, 2018
İlginç bir deneyim oldu bu kitap. Sevdim sevmedim mi anlamadım bile. Esin perisiyle mücadele edeceğim derken okuru da hırpalıyor sanki biraz.
November 20, 2019
A mildly entertaining novella by John Fowles.
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