Literatura académica sobre el tema "Ravelstein"

The author constitutes a reconstruction of Allan Bloom’s position on the relationship between the philosopher and the political community, which is important to philosophical tradition, as is symbolised by Socrates and his dispute with the Athenian polis. Texts authored by Bloom, as well as the Saul Bellow’s novel Ravelstein, provided the basis for the reconstruction. The novel’s protagonist, a professor of philosophy by the name of Abe Ravelstein, was modelled on Allan Bloom, while Chick, the narrator, corresponds to the author himself. Ravelstein is the story of their friendship, which has lasted from Bloom’s return to the University of Chicago in 1978 until his death in 1992. The article brings Bloom’s reflections closer to the Polish philosophical space, where they are, as yet, not widely known.

This paper seeks to demonstrate how space in Saul Bellow’s Ravelstein (2000) and Humboldt’s Gift (1975) is acquainted with the metaphors memory, spiritual journeys and philosophical meditations. Space, in the Bellovian sense, is not local nor is it historical (real); rather, it is fictional, utopian and philosophical. By the “the Boundaries of no ‘M’an’s Land,” the researcher underpins the sublime ideals of Bellow’s mental space. By the term “strangers,” the researcher refers to Bellow’s intellectual heroes who are identified with the metaphors of space. In this concern, two fundamental questions are investigated: a) how should one argue for the idea that metaphors of space are related to memory, spiritual journeys and philosophical meditations? b) what sense can be given to the relationship between the metaphors of space and the ethics of strangers? To unmask these blind spots, the aspects of metaphors are firstly investigated. Second, the relationship between these metaphors and the ethics of strangers are examined. In the light of these primary findings, the conclusion which can be drawn is that the metaphors of space do not only epitomize the quality of American, cultural, aesthetic and philosophical discourse, but also draw imaginary homelands of “strange” intellectuals. Special focus will be given to Ravelstein and Humboldt’s Gift. Bellow’s other novels and short stories are deployed to support the thesis. The Kantian notions of human welfare and moral worth and the Hegelian assumptions of the phenomenology of spirit are key concepts to illustrate the analysis.

博士
淡江大學
英文學系博士班
95
This dissertation explores the problem and process of the isolated intellectual’s accommodation in four of American author Saul Bellow’s novels: Herzog, Humboldt’s Gift,The Dean’s December,and Ravelstein. The protagonists of these novels, most of whom are, like Bellow, of European-Jewish background,feel alienated from the mainstream, mid-to-late-20th-century U.S. society, and try in various ways to more fully enter into it. Yet “accommodation,” as it is interpreted here, really means a going-halfway, a process of mediation through which the character maintains his own individual, subjective integrity as a “thinker” while also communicating and interacting more with others (including the “masses,” the non-intellectuals), that is, engaging more actively in the “mass culture.”The novels’protagonists, although they manage to “fit into” the larger society to varying degrees,share a keen awareness of the need for the internal and subjective—as opposed to the merely external, the commercial, financial, mechanical, technological—and for a sense of humanity, a “law of the heart,” a compassionate attitude toward a suffering (and indeed increasingly alienated) mankind. However, this mode of the individual’s accommodation with his society is also closed to another key duality, that of mind (or soul) and body (or material world). They thus seek an accommodation or mediation between such opposite ideas or values as self and other, individual and social, internal and external, thinking and feeling, past and present, local and universal. These novels seem to be structured, then, around a dialectical dynamic, a pulling- both-ways, just as the characters are inevitably driven by inner conflicts, often perplexed and confused, moving in both directions at once. But this is a very human complexity, and Bellow describes it with great energy and passion.

La tesi si propone di individuare e di definire una sorta di (sotto)genere letterario fin qui mai trattato, quello del romanzo-testamento. Con questa definizione mi riferisco a tutte le opere scritte all’interno della “dimensione della morte”, ovvero la fase della vita in cui il pensiero della morte diviene dominante. Questo accade solitamente per tre possibili motivi: per l’età avanzata, per una grave malattia o per una precisa volontà suicida; a queste tre motivazioni corrispondono altrettanti capitoli, ognuno dei quali approfondisce quattro diversi testi (romanzi, racconti o fumetti che siano). La situazione nelle quali gli autori realizzano le rispettive opere è estremamente differente: chi affronta la morte in tarda età può permettersi di scrivere con una certa serenità, nella consapevolezza di avere completato naturalmente il proprio percorso; chi muore anzitempo, per malattia, rimpiange gli anni che non potrà vivere e realizza opere animate da una notevole tensione narrativa; chi sceglie di darsi volontariamente la morte si rivolge al mondo con atteggiamento di sfida, per quanto il suo sguardo si dimostri freddo e distaccato. Segue quindi un’appendice nella quale si analizzano altri tre romanzi: originariamente contenuti nei tre capitoli iniziali, essi sono stati successivamente stralciati in quanto sfuggivano a una precisa categorizzazione e male si amalgamavano agli altri; peraltro, tali romanzi erano troppo pertinenti per ignorarli, per cui sono stati trattati in un’apposita sezione. Capitolo 1. Il vecchio scrittore e la morte. I romanzi analizzati sono Deux anglaises et le continent (Henri-Pierre Roché, 1956), Mercy of a Rude Stream (Henry Roth, 1994-1998), The Captain Is Out to Lunch and the Sailors Have Taken Over the Ship (Charles Bukowski, 1998) e Ravelstein (Saul Bellow, 2000). Quattro opere realizzate da autori piuttosto avanti con l’età (si va dai 72 anni di Bukowski agli 89 di Roth) che si rivelano interamente o parzialmente autobiografiche: Roché rivive una fase della propria giovinezza, romanzandola; Roth ripercorre i tredici anni vissuti ad Harlem tra il 1914 e il 1927 dedicandovi ben quattro volumi (per un totale di circa 1500 pagine); Bukowski tiene un vero e proprio diario in cui racconta le proprie esperienze quotidiane; Bellow narra la propria amicizia con Abe Ravelstein, intellettuale ebreo morto qualche anno prima. L’unico dei quattro a usare il proprio vero nome è Bukowski; gli altri tre ricorrono ad altrettanti alter-ego che peraltro nascondono poco o nulla della reale identità dei personaggi. Capitolo 2. Lo scrittore e la malattia. Il capitolo si apre con l’analisi degli ultimi romanzi di Leonardo Sciascia, Il cavaliere e la morte (1988) e Una storia semplice (1989). Si prosegue con il testo più breve esaminato nella presente ricerca: “Nel frattempo”, racconto a fumetti di sei pagine realizzato da Magnus (nome d’arte di Roberto Raviola) nel 1996; si termina quindi con Le soleil des mourants, scritto da Jean-Claude Izzo nel 1999. Si tratta di opere realizzate nell’imminenza della morte (Una storia semplice, “Nel frattempo”) o comunque nella piena consapevolezza che la vita sta per giungere al termine (Il cavaliere e la morte, Le soleil des mourants). Nonostante ognuno dei quattro scritti contenga elementi autobiografici, nessuno di essi è puramente autobiografico: Sciascia scrive due polizieschi, Magnus una commedia, Izzo un dramma on the road. I quattro protagonisti sono accomnati da un fatto: tutti loro si confrontano con la malattia, reale (Il cavaliere e la morte, Le soleil des mourants) o metaforica (Una storia semplice, “Nel frattempo”) che sia. L’unico a uscire vincitore da questo confronto è il personaggio di Magnus; gli altri risultano tutti sconfitti, seppure in misura diversa (la sconfitta è totale per Izzo e lo Sciascia del Cavaliere e la morte, mentre è solo parziale in Una storia semplice). Capitolo 3. Lo scrittore e il suicidio. I testi analizzati nel terzo capitolo sono Le feu follet (Pierre Drieu la Rochelle, 1931), Dissipatio H.G. (Guido Morselli, 1973), “Good Old Neon” (David Foster Wallace, 2004) e Suicide (Édouard Levé, 2008). Realizzate da autori poi suicidatisi, queste quattro opere narrano le storie di altrettanti suicidi: tre sono biografie che ricostruiscono l’esistenza di persone realmente vissute (Feu follet racconta, romanzandola, la fine di Jacques Rigaut; “Good Old Neon” e Suicide si ispirano alla scomparsa di due conoscenti dei rispettivi autori), mentre la quarta (Dissipatio H.G.) è una vicenda di pura invenzione. Nonostante la presenza dei suddetti rimandi biografici, i quattro protagonisti sono caratterizzati in modo tale da divenire dei parziali alter-ego degli scrittori: la fedeltà biografica non è mai una priorità. Due di queste opere (Feu follet e Suicide) hanno uno sfondo estremamente realistico, mentre le altre due (Dissipatio H.G. e “Good Old Neon”) si svolgono in suggestivi scenari fantastico/fantascientifici, come a suggerire la volontà di abbandonare questo mondo che contraddistingue gli autori. Appendice. (In)consapevolezza di morire. I romanzi qui raccolti sono tre: Palomar (Italo Calvino, 1983), Gli ultimi giorni di Pompeo (Andrea Pazienza, 1987) e Camere separate (Pier Vittorio Tondelli, 1989). L’ultimo è stato scritto da un autore che sapeva di essere affetto da AIDS e che, pertanto, era consapevole che non sarebbe sopravvissuto molto (per quanto la natura della malattia lo autorizzasse a sperare che la fine fosse ancora lontana); gli altri due sono invece opera di scrittori che erano in buone condizioni di salute e non sospettavano che di lì a poco sarebbero morti; eppure, al termine dei rispettivi romanzi, essi uccidono i propri protagonisti (entrambi alter-ego). Il capitolo si occupa appunto di individuare la connessione, evidente o sotterranea che sia, tra il destino del personaggio e quello del suo autore. La condizione nella quale si giunge al termine della vita influenza inevitabilmente l’approccio alla scrittura. La relativa serenità che contraddistingue chi si avvia a morire in tarda età fa sì che il vecchio scrittore si dedichi principalmente a una narrativa apertamente autobiografica che ricorda il passato, in modo che egli lo possa rivivere ancora una volta prima di andarsene. Chi muore anzitempo e incolpevole, a causa di una malattia, guarda con rimpianto agli anni futuri che non avrà la possibilità di vivere: scrivere in questo stato d’animo conduce alla realizzazione di opere con una componente didattica, che mirano a trasmettere un messaggio universale. Il desiderio di raggiungere un ampio numero di lettori fa sì che l’autore ricorra alla narrativa di genere; alla base di tale atteggiamento c’è la volontà di esercitare una forma di controllo su un futuro a cui non si potrà assistere in prima persona. Lo scrittore suicida, infine, realizza con il proprio ultimo romanzo una lunga lettera d’addio: egli dimostra la propria volontà di evadere dal mondo dando vita a elaborati scenari di fantasia oppure descrivendo una realtà all’interno della quale si trova spaesato, fuori posto. In un caso come nell’altro, egli vuole fuggire da questo mondo per andare alla scoperta dell’altro. A prescindere dal tipo di morte che li attende, gli scrittori che hanno raggiunto l’ultima fase della propria vita non usano metafore o giri di parole: nelle proprie opere, essi presentano direttamente la propria situazione. Pertanto, i protagonisti dei loro romanzi-testamento sono anziani che riflettono sulla loro prossima morte, oppure persone mortalmente malate, oppure giovani uomini dalle chiare tendenza suicide: in poche parole, personaggi che sono alter-ego totali o parziali dei rispettivi creatori.
The aim of this doctoral thesis is to identify and to define a new and previously unseen literary sub-genre: the “testamentary novel”. By saying so, I embrace all the works of literature that have been written by an author who is living within the “dimension of death”, that is to say the stage of life in which the idea of death has become overwhelming. This may happen because of three main reasons: old age, severe illness or suicidal tendencies. Three different situations that originate three different kinds of narratives: a man who faces death in his old age writes relatively peacefully, knowing that he has naturally come to the end of his life; a man who dies prematurely, by illness, regrets all the future years that he won’t be able to live and writes works of literature that vibrate with narrative tension; a man who voluntarily gives an end to his own life addresses the whole world as if to defy it, and yet writes in a cold and detached style. After these three chapters there is an appendix in which I analyze three other novels: they were initially meant for the already existing chapters, but then I realized that they didn’t belong there, being quite eccentric and avoiding every clear classification, so I left them out. However, they were too pertinent to be totally ignored, so I put them in this separate section (that so became a sort of fourth chapter). Chapter 1. The old writer and death. In this first chapter I analyze the following novels: Deux anglaises et le continent (Henri-Pierre Roché, 1956), Mercy of a Rude Stream (Henry Roth, 1994-1998), The Captain Is Out to Lunch and the Sailors Have Taken Over the Ship (Charles Bukowski, 1998) and Ravelstein (Saul Bellow, 2000). Written by aged authors (spanning the age range 72 to 89, Bukowski being the “youngest” and Roth the oldest), these four narratives are either entirely or partially autobiographical: Roché tells a story about his long gone youth; Roth retraces (in a four-volumes and 1500 pages novel) the thirteen years he lived in Harlem as a kid, between 1914 and 1927; Bukowski keeps an actual diary in which he writes about his daily life; Bellow gives an accout of his friendship with the recently deceased Abe Ravelstein. The only writer who uses his real name in the narrative is Bukowski, whereas the other ones adopt three well recognizable alter-egos. Chapter 2. The writer and the illness. The second chapter begins with the last two novels written by Leonardo Sciascia, Il cavaliere e la morte (1988) and Una storia semplice (1989). These novels are followed by the shortest story analyzed in this thesis: “Nel frattempo”, a six-pages graphic novel that Magnus (Roberto Raviola’s nom de plume) wrote and drew in 1996; the second chapter is completed by Le soleil des mourants, a novel by Jean-Claude Izzo (1999). These narratives have been written by authors who were severely ill and were fully aware that they would die shortly. Each one of the four stories is partly autobiographical, but no one of them is completely autobiographical: Sciascia writes two detective novels, Magnus writes a sort of dark comedy and Izzo writes an extremely dramatic story which resembles a classic tragedy. The four protagonists have one thing in common: they all face illness, sometimes actual (Il cavaliere e la morte, Le soleil des mourants) and sometimes metaphorical (Una storia semplice, “Nel frattempo”). The only one of them who clearly wins this peculiar battle is Magnus’ character; the other ones all suffer a defeat (a total defeat in Le soleil des mourants and Il cavaliere e la morte, a partial defeat in Una storia semplice). Capitolo 3. The writer and suicide. The four works of literature analyzed in the third chapter are the following ones: Le feu follet (Pierre Drieu la Rochelle, 1931), Dissipatio H.G. (Guido Morselli, 1973), “Good Old Neon” (David Foster Wallace, 2004) and Suicide (Édouard Levé, 2008). Written by authors who have actually committed suicide, these narratives tell the stories of four suicidal men: three of them are biographical accounts (Feu follet tells about Jacques Rigaut’s suicide, while “Good Old Neon” and Suicide are inspired by the suicides committed some years before by two acquaintances of the authors), the fourth one is entirely fictional. However, these biographical accounts are deliberately inaccurate, so the characters portrayed by the writers become eventually their partial alter-egos. Two of the four narratives take place in a completely realistic setting; on the other hand, the background of the other two is imaginary and fantastic, as if to suggest the authors’ desire to leave the world he’s still living in. Appendix. (Un)aware to die. In this appendix, which is a sort of fourth chapter, three novels are analyzed: Palomar (Italo Calvino, 1983), Gli ultimi giorni di Pompeo (Andrea Pazienza, 1987) and Camere separate (Pier Vittorio Tondelli, 1989). The third one has been written by a man who was suffering from AIDS and was therefore aware that he wouldn’t survive much longer (even if he couldn’t foresee the specific moment of his future demise, of course); on the contrary, the two other novels have been written by two healthy men who couldn’t imagine that they would die a few months after having completed their works; nevertheless, at the end of their narratives they both kill their main character (who is clearly their alter-ego). There is indeed a connection between the death of the character and the death of the author, and this appendix aims to identify it. After having analyzed these fifteen narratives I realized that different kinds of death originate different kinds of writing. The man who dies in the relative peacefulness of his old age is naturally encouraged to write about his past life, so he can relive it one last time. When a man dies prematurely, because of an incurable disease, he regrets all the future years that he won’t be able to live: he writes a somehow educational work of literature, a novel containing a universal message that aims to teach something to the ones who will survive him; in order to reach the maximum amount of readers, he makes use of an “easy” genre, such as comedy or detective novel. He does so because he wants to use his narrative in order to exert a sort of influence over the future (even if, or just because, he knows that he won’t be there in person). The suicidal man writes his final novel as if it were a long suicide letter: he shows off his strong desire to leave this life by making up imaginary worlds or else describing a reality that doesn’t fit him, a world in which he just can’t find his proper place. Apart from the kind of death that awaits them, the writers who have reached the final stage of their life don’t use metaphors or circumlocution: in their novels, they plainly present their own situation. So, the main characters of their testamentary works of literature are old men who muse about dying, or persons severely ill, or young men with suicidal tendencies: in short, these characters are total or partial alter-egos who have the specific duty of standing in for their creators.

This chapter examines how Bellow advocates an intuitive Romantic knowledge in Herzog (1964), Mr Sammler’s Planet (1970) and Ravelstein (1999) that recognises that the sacrosanct resides in the ordinary nature of things and teaches us that we have wider communal obligations to one another as fellow human beings. Such obligations in Bellow’s fiction, especially Herzog, recall William Blake’s emphasis on the divine within the human breast and the possibility of a Wordsworthian communion with nature. British and American Romanticism were decisive in shaping his aesthetic vision of the relations between the self and the urban and rural environment. Bellow’s brand of Romanticism is read as indebted to Emersonian and Wordsworthian reflections on the interconnection between the visionary and the natural world, as well as moving towards a darker, sceptical, even Shelleyan sensibility.