[Although an oft-repeated Ed Hopper quote might suggest that attempting to meaningfully summarise a novel is a futile and impossible task, I’ve had enough people ask me for reading recommendations lately that I figure I should use this ‘blog as an outlet for miniature reviews and such (rather than being simply a deluge of opaque and indulgent wallowing and passive-aggressive social commentary).]
I felt it appropriate to begin with Nabokov (but at the same time found the idea of commencing with the eponymous a little trite and obvious), which brings us to Invitation to a Beheading – one of his last novels to be penned in Russian, reputedly in a rapid burst of sustained creativity while taking reprieve from his work on The Gift.
Much like the later Bend Sinister, Invitation is an absurd tale, perhaps more reminiscent of Ionesco or Adamov than Kafka (although any comparison is destined to be slightly amiss and possibly misleading). A man, Cincinnatus C, faces imprisonment and execution for the crime of “Gnostic Turpitude” – for an inexpressible otherness at the core of his being. Held alone in a gargantuan fortress which dominates the surrounding countryside; Cincinnatus faces the surreal torments of occasional visits from his cuckolding wife (along with her aloof family, all of who are required to supply their own furniture), the jibes of his jailer Rodion, and the repulsive gregariousness of his would-be executioner (masquerading as a fellow prisoner and potential conspirator for escape) Monsieur Pierre – all while being kept oblivious to when his final day of punishment might arrive (the one solace afforded to prisoners yet unavailable to the free).
Although my all-too brief description might seem bleak, Invitation is possibly the best example of the most-appealing strains which run through Nabokov’s works – a mischievous wit and the suggestion that perhaps some final truth and inexpressible satisfaction might lay beyond that which is perceptible.
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