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THE REDISCOVERED BRITISH MASTERPIECE 'Consider yourself an experiment of the gods in what a man can endure...' Paul Davenant, has arrived at a sanatorium in the Swiss Alps with hopes of a full cure and a normal life. But as the weeks and months pass interminably by, he undergoes endless tests and medical procedures, each more horrific and dehumanizing than the last, all the while facing the possibility that his case may be hopeless. Despite the pain, indignity, and tediousness, Davenant never loses sight of the outrageous, farcical side to his situation, the absurdity of it all. And when he falls in love with a fellow patient, he becomes determined to recover his health. Will he succeed, or will all the tortures he has endured have been for nothing? When The Rack was first published in 1958, the critical acclaim was universal: reviewers compared it with the works of Proust, Mann, and Camus and declared it a masterwork destined to take its place among the great novels of the 20th century. This edition will reclaim its status. PRAISE FOR THE RACK 'I distrust anything deemed a cult classic, often a polite term for a book no one enjoys. But this very moving novel set in a TB sanatorium in Switzerland delivers gruelling descriptions of primitive treatments and a powerful love story' Sebastian Faulks 'There are certain books we call great for want of a better term, that rise like monuments above the cemeteries of literature: Clarissa Harlowe, Great Expectations, Ulysses. The Rack to my mind is one of this company' Graham Greene 'Quite possibly a masterpiece' Irish Times 'Book of the year if there ever was one' V. S. Pritchett, New Statesman 'A work of sombre power, of soaring comedy' Cyril Connolly, Sunday Times… (plus d'informations)
A difficult read, partly thanks to the manifold thoracic agonies inflicted on its main character, a purposeless young Englishman called Paul attempting to rid himself of TB in an Alpine sanatorium, partly because hardly anything happens (other than the infliction of said agonies and a drippy love affair) in its 370 pages.
On the face of it it's like The Magic Mountain redux, drawing on many of the same absurdities of sanatorium life: communal indignity, bad doctors, worse food, the pan-Euro cultural mélange. But the focus here is much more intensely on the individual experience, on the dreamer, not the dream. We're drawn into Paul's private hell so effectually that by the end it's not entirely clear where he ends and reality begins.
Ellis achieves this interiority through pain. This is one of the great stories of pain, and the reason it's so painful is that he doesn't try to describe what it feels like to have your sternum punctured, your ribs creosoted, your pneumothorax pumped full of air every fortnight. Instead he describes the progress of the needle through the bruised flesh, the sounds of surgery, the bitter smell and colour of the bronchial sludge.
There are moments of comedy, usually dark: the deranged Belgian who is Paul's only true friend, the professional squabbles of the various doctors and staff, the Kafkaesque inevitability of Paul's vague plans being thwarted, his desires frustrated. The only annoyance is Ellis' habit of reverting to the local lingo for commonplace phrases that have perfectly normal English equivalents. It's not a dining room, for some reason, but always a salle à manger; never a maid but always a femme de chambre. There's also untranslated French dialogue strewn liberally about, which if your French isn't up to snuff will need to be run through Google Translate to avoid losing the thread.
This is a really unusual novel that goes to some pretty unfrequented places. But maybe don't do what I did and pair it with Tess of the d'Urbervilles. ( )
This novel is quite exceptional, a totally involving, emerging experience about life in the shadow of existence-threatening, debilitating disease. Try it, if you're feeling strong and not seeking a feelgood read. ( )
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▾Descriptions de livres
THE REDISCOVERED BRITISH MASTERPIECE 'Consider yourself an experiment of the gods in what a man can endure...' Paul Davenant, has arrived at a sanatorium in the Swiss Alps with hopes of a full cure and a normal life. But as the weeks and months pass interminably by, he undergoes endless tests and medical procedures, each more horrific and dehumanizing than the last, all the while facing the possibility that his case may be hopeless. Despite the pain, indignity, and tediousness, Davenant never loses sight of the outrageous, farcical side to his situation, the absurdity of it all. And when he falls in love with a fellow patient, he becomes determined to recover his health. Will he succeed, or will all the tortures he has endured have been for nothing? When The Rack was first published in 1958, the critical acclaim was universal: reviewers compared it with the works of Proust, Mann, and Camus and declared it a masterwork destined to take its place among the great novels of the 20th century. This edition will reclaim its status. PRAISE FOR THE RACK 'I distrust anything deemed a cult classic, often a polite term for a book no one enjoys. But this very moving novel set in a TB sanatorium in Switzerland delivers gruelling descriptions of primitive treatments and a powerful love story' Sebastian Faulks 'There are certain books we call great for want of a better term, that rise like monuments above the cemeteries of literature: Clarissa Harlowe, Great Expectations, Ulysses. The Rack to my mind is one of this company' Graham Greene 'Quite possibly a masterpiece' Irish Times 'Book of the year if there ever was one' V. S. Pritchett, New Statesman 'A work of sombre power, of soaring comedy' Cyril Connolly, Sunday Times
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On the face of it it's like The Magic Mountain redux, drawing on many of the same absurdities of sanatorium life: communal indignity, bad doctors, worse food, the pan-Euro cultural mélange. But the focus here is much more intensely on the individual experience, on the dreamer, not the dream. We're drawn into Paul's private hell so effectually that by the end it's not entirely clear where he ends and reality begins.
Ellis achieves this interiority through pain. This is one of the great stories of pain, and the reason it's so painful is that he doesn't try to describe what it feels like to have your sternum punctured, your ribs creosoted, your pneumothorax pumped full of air every fortnight. Instead he describes the progress of the needle through the bruised flesh, the sounds of surgery, the bitter smell and colour of the bronchial sludge.
There are moments of comedy, usually dark: the deranged Belgian who is Paul's only true friend, the professional squabbles of the various doctors and staff, the Kafkaesque inevitability of Paul's vague plans being thwarted, his desires frustrated. The only annoyance is Ellis' habit of reverting to the local lingo for commonplace phrases that have perfectly normal English equivalents. It's not a dining room, for some reason, but always a salle à manger; never a maid but always a femme de chambre. There's also untranslated French dialogue strewn liberally about, which if your French isn't up to snuff will need to be run through Google Translate to avoid losing the thread.
This is a really unusual novel that goes to some pretty unfrequented places. But maybe don't do what I did and pair it with Tess of the d'Urbervilles. (