Ziki
Completely different literary era, but you may want to check out the Alexandria Quartet by Lawrence Durrell, who uses similar techniques of restarting narrative from the vantage point of secondary characters (calling it, I believe, veritiginious
Also, Anthony Powell's Dance to the Music of Time, while very long, a) deploys a similar ironically detached narrator-observer reporting on his own life, b) contains much dark and light humor on class, continentals, etc., and c) after much description with little insight, ultimately offers very little into the psychology of men wanting women. In short, Powell's narrator (Jenkins?) seems to take up FMF's Dowell's torch in some ways. Being British, however, he never falls prey to Dowell's American self-delusions of sentiment. Comments, Choisya?
Completely different literary era, but you may want to check out the Alexandria Quartet by Lawrence Durrell, who uses similar techniques of restarting narrative from the vantage point of secondary characters (calling it, I believe, veritiginious
Also, Anthony Powell's Dance to the Music of Time, while very long, a) deploys a similar ironically detached narrator-observer reporting on his own life, b) contains much dark and light humor on class, continentals, etc., and c) after much description with little insight, ultimately offers very little into the psychology of men wanting women. In short, Powell's narrator (Jenkins?) seems to take up FMF's Dowell's torch in some ways. Being British, however, he never falls prey to Dowell's American self-delusions of sentiment. Comments, Choisya?
LOL Cosmotrotter. I think there is also a bit of England-my-England about Durrell, the expatriate on Corfu. Anthony Powell is perhaps a better example. Perhaps most expatriates eventually idolise their native lands?
cosmotrotter wrote:
Ziki
Completely different literary era, but you may want to check out the Alexandria Quartet by Lawrence Durrell, who uses similar techniques of restarting narrative from the vantage point of secondary characters (calling it, I believe, veritiginious
Also, Anthony Powell's Dance to the Music of Time, while very long, a) deploys a similar ironically detached narrator-observer reporting on his own life, b) contains much dark and light humor on class, continentals, etc., and c) after much description with little insight, ultimately offers very little into the psychology of men wanting women. In short, Powell's narrator (Jenkins?) seems to take up FMF's Dowell's torch in some ways. Being British, however, he never falls prey to Dowell's American self-delusions of sentiment. Comments, Choisya?
You may be right - or should I say 'quite right' , Choisya.
As a frequent and current expat who feigns to detest the dominant culture current in his native land, I also find that I am usually well-placed within my ingrained culture - even where I would have thought myself more cosmopolitan. Reading what seem to be fatuous textbooks on Intercultural Communication in the Business World sometimes teaches more than initially meets the eye. The more I experience, the more ignorant I learn myself to be! Or something of the sort. But you were speaking of artists, and I have reduced the discussion to nostalgia.
, Choisya.As a frequent and current expat who feigns to detest the dominant culture current in his native land, I also find that I am usually well-placed within my ingrained culture - even where I would have thought myself more cosmopolitan. Reading what seem to be fatuous textbooks on Intercultural Communication in the Business World sometimes teaches more than initially meets the eye. The more I experience, the more ignorant I learn myself to be! Or something of the sort. But you were speaking of artists, and I have reduced the discussion to nostalgia.
Choisya wrote:
LOL Cosmotrotter. I think there is also a bit of England-my-England about Durrell, the expatriate on Corfu. Anthony Powell is perhaps a better example. Perhaps most expatriates eventually idolise their native lands?
cosmotrotter wrote:
Ziki
Completely different literary era, but you may want to check out the Alexandria Quartet by Lawrence Durrell, who uses similar techniques of restarting narrative from the vantage point of secondary characters (calling it, I believe, veritiginious
Also, Anthony Powell's Dance to the Music of Time, while very long, a) deploys a similar ironically detached narrator-observer reporting on his own life, b) contains much dark and light humor on class, continentals, etc., and c) after much description with little insight, ultimately offers very little into the psychology of men wanting women. In short, Powell's narrator (Jenkins?) seems to take up FMF's Dowell's torch in some ways. Being British, however, he never falls prey to Dowell's American self-delusions of sentiment. Comments, Choisya?
'Quaite raite' Cosmotrotter
Maybe you are still too young to idolise your native land
Maybe you are still too young to idolise your native land
cosmotrotter wrote:
You may be right - or should I say 'quite right'
As a frequent and current expat who feigns to detest the dominant culture current in his native land, I also find that I am usually well-placed within my ingrained culture - even where I would have thought myself more cosmopolitan. Reading what seem to be fatuous textbooks on Intercultural Communication in the Business World sometimes teaches more than initially meets the eye. The more I experience, the more ignorant I learn myself to be! Or something of the sort. But you were speaking of artists, and I have reduced the discussion to nostalgia.
Choisya wrote:
LOL Cosmotrotter. I think there is also a bit of England-my-England about Durrell, the expatriate on Corfu. Anthony Powell is perhaps a better example. Perhaps most expatriates eventually idolise their native lands?
cosmotrotter wrote:
Ziki
Completely different literary era, but you may want to check out the Alexandria Quartet by Lawrence Durrell, who uses similar techniques of restarting narrative from the vantage point of secondary characters (calling it, I believe, veritiginious
Also, Anthony Powell's Dance to the Music of Time, while very long, a) deploys a similar ironically detached narrator-observer reporting on his own life, b) contains much dark and light humor on class, continentals, etc., and c) after much description with little insight, ultimately offers very little into the psychology of men wanting women. In short, Powell's narrator (Jenkins?) seems to take up FMF's Dowell's torch in some ways. Being British, however, he never falls prey to Dowell's American self-delusions of sentiment. Comments, Choisya?
