The Man in The High Castle
I guess, I'm going to write this review in English, originally I didn't want to for mood related reasons, but as it seems my mood has changed, probably because of the rather bad ending of the novel.
Speaking of thick, Dick. Nobody else really understands Grasshopper but me. Kind of wish such a line had slipped into Blade Runner.
Well, thickness is a more general problem of the novel, Baynes' Lufthansa flight was difficult to get through too, not because of the musings over the madness of Nazism - those were quite inspired - but because of the dialogue and actions involving Lotze. As a general rule authors shouldn't invent characters with the aim to destroy their dignity. And authors also, of course, shouldn't call their readers pigs and fishes.
But taking everything into account, it can be forgiven, because the general outlook of The Man in The High Castle is one of utter bleakness, so after reading the end of the Tagomi-Baynes story you are set up to think: What does it matter anyway? and go over the end of the Juliana story quietly.
As a rough guide to what Philip K. Dick tried to achieve with each of the three interwoven stories let us say that the Juliana story was meant to give the audience what it is supposed to crave for, sex, suspense and revelations that is, - and almost mockingly so, although I must admit that I was grateful for it in the first half of the novel to give relief during the rather laborious build up of the other two stories - the Frink-Childan story to show some insight into the workings of a man in his life and to give a sense thereof and the Tagomi-Baynes story to get at the core of darkness: the fate of living in a world that seems doomed by the laws that govern it, Nazism playing the role of an inventory of evil, but overall successful strategies.
Facing the latter, mere traces of a hope for a life sustaining balance, the possibility of passing through the whole of it, Nirvana, or, most daring, a world in which the ethical unambiguously was the right thing to do. The Man in The High Castle comes close to a bloody minded novel, yet Dick did pursue a little more than that. Apart from portraying his own outlook on the U.S. as a fascistic continuation of the Roman Empire, based on a vision he had, quite like the one of Mr. Tagomi, he undertook the task to explain the outlook of the I Ching by his two layers of stories, the Frink-Childan story below and the Tagomi-Baynes story above, how even the greatest personal success unfolds in a general climate in which it is merely a leaf in the wind.
So there is a lot that I've dealt with myself. I'm grateful that Dick introduced these things to the general public and, as far as the I Ching is concerned, to myself. On the other hand I'm absolutely certain that this sort of exposure is, in itself, pointless. By sharing our despair we gain nothing. It is only as a point of reference that this serves society. Here we have a problem that we can define, go back to, start working on. If we only did!
Speaking of thick, Dick. Nobody else really understands Grasshopper but me. Kind of wish such a line had slipped into Blade Runner.
Well, thickness is a more general problem of the novel, Baynes' Lufthansa flight was difficult to get through too, not because of the musings over the madness of Nazism - those were quite inspired - but because of the dialogue and actions involving Lotze. As a general rule authors shouldn't invent characters with the aim to destroy their dignity. And authors also, of course, shouldn't call their readers pigs and fishes.
But taking everything into account, it can be forgiven, because the general outlook of The Man in The High Castle is one of utter bleakness, so after reading the end of the Tagomi-Baynes story you are set up to think: What does it matter anyway? and go over the end of the Juliana story quietly.
As a rough guide to what Philip K. Dick tried to achieve with each of the three interwoven stories let us say that the Juliana story was meant to give the audience what it is supposed to crave for, sex, suspense and revelations that is, - and almost mockingly so, although I must admit that I was grateful for it in the first half of the novel to give relief during the rather laborious build up of the other two stories - the Frink-Childan story to show some insight into the workings of a man in his life and to give a sense thereof and the Tagomi-Baynes story to get at the core of darkness: the fate of living in a world that seems doomed by the laws that govern it, Nazism playing the role of an inventory of evil, but overall successful strategies.
Facing the latter, mere traces of a hope for a life sustaining balance, the possibility of passing through the whole of it, Nirvana, or, most daring, a world in which the ethical unambiguously was the right thing to do. The Man in The High Castle comes close to a bloody minded novel, yet Dick did pursue a little more than that. Apart from portraying his own outlook on the U.S. as a fascistic continuation of the Roman Empire, based on a vision he had, quite like the one of Mr. Tagomi, he undertook the task to explain the outlook of the I Ching by his two layers of stories, the Frink-Childan story below and the Tagomi-Baynes story above, how even the greatest personal success unfolds in a general climate in which it is merely a leaf in the wind.
So there is a lot that I've dealt with myself. I'm grateful that Dick introduced these things to the general public and, as far as the I Ching is concerned, to myself. On the other hand I'm absolutely certain that this sort of exposure is, in itself, pointless. By sharing our despair we gain nothing. It is only as a point of reference that this serves society. Here we have a problem that we can define, go back to, start working on. If we only did!
Eingetragen Am/um
20:08
