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Death in Venice (Dover Thrift Editions)
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Manufacturer: Dover Publications
Author: Thomas Mann
Publisher: Dover Publications
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Our Price: $2.00
You Save: $ ( % )
Usually ships in 24 hours
Manufacturer: Dover Publications
Author: Thomas Mann
Publisher: Dover Publications
Average Customer Rating:
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Death in Venice (Dover Thrift Editions) Description
Binding: Paperback
Dewey Decimal Number: 833.912
EAN: 9780486287140
ISBN: 0486287149
Label: Dover Publications
Manufacturer: Dover Publications
Number Of Items: 1
Book Pages: 96
Publication Date: 1995-08-10
Publisher: Dover Publications
Studio: Dover Publications
Dewey Decimal Number: 833.912
EAN: 9780486287140
ISBN: 0486287149
Label: Dover Publications
Manufacturer: Dover Publications
Number Of Items: 1
Book Pages: 96
Publication Date: 1995-08-10
Publisher: Dover Publications
Studio: Dover Publications
Editorial Review of Death in Venice (Dover Thrift Editions)
Celebrated novella of a middle-aged German writer's tormented passion for a Polish youth met on holiday in Venice, and its tragic consequences. Powerful evocation of the mysterious forces of death and disintegration in the midst of existence, and the isolation of the artist in 20th-century life. New translation and extensive commentary.
Customer Reviews of Death in Venice (Dover Thrift Editions)
Customer Rating:
Review Summary: Regret Comes From Lack of Self-Awareness
Review: Thomas Mann has taken an ages old theme, the attraction of an older, worn out man for a youthful boy, dressed it up in a series of classical allusions, and details how this attraction merely accelerates the decay of the man whose decline began long before he first saw the boy. In DEATH IN VENICE, Gustave von Aschenbach is a German writer living in pre-World War I Europe, who has been trying to balance the struggles involved in maintaining his hard-worn writing laurels with the demands those struggles have placed on his life, his health, and his emotional keel. He has become an ascetic, denying himself the pleasures of the flesh. His muse is a jealous one and demands his attention full time. Over the years, he has willingly paid the price, but the true cost becomes apparent to him only as he turns fifty years of age. He senses a void in his life. He does not know what it is or how to compensate, so he decides that travel in the answer. One of the ironies of Mann's novella is that Aschenbach's readers undoubtedly give him credit for the worldly-wise sophisticate that his many literary works of art suggest he must be. But the truth is that because of his rigorous denial of himself, in terms of maturity and emotional serenity, he is a greenhorn. He tends to view the world as he does through his books, which are laden with an abundance of classical erudition. But the real world is not Plato's Republic reborn. It is a testing ground which favors those whose feet are firmly grounded in the world of the body. Early on, as Mann subtly alludes to Aschenbach's mental and physical infirmities, his fate is a doom foretold.
Aschenbach is puzzled by the continual appearance of a weird looking old man who pops up at convenient moments to glare at him in a puzzling manner. The first time that Aschenbach sees him, he pays him scant attention, but as the visits increase in his trips around Europe, both Aschenbach's and the reader's wonderment grow. After a while, the old man begins to assume allegorical--or at least mystical--proportions. One can almost see a misty haze envelop both during their encounters. It is tempting to treat these visitations as unreal hallucinations of a mind slowly unhinging with Aschenbach seeing a version of himself, following him around Europe, as if to remind him of his looming mortality.
While in Europe, he notices a good looking Polish boy of about fourteen. Aschenbach begins to fantasize about him but dares not do more than just gaze at him from a distance. As if in a rush, the years of ascetic self-denial rupture, opening the door to his latent homosexual tendencies. Mann cleverly avoids calling a spade a spade. Instead he dresses up this fantasy in terms of Aschenbach's limited social background that had been fueled by a lifetime of classical learning. The boy, whose name is Tadziu, is described as a young Adonis, an Apollo, and other such. The only words that pass between then occur at the very end, when Aschenbach sees the boy tormented by bullies and almost, but not quite, intervenes. Aschenbach locks eyes with the boy and in that moment he knows the forbidden joy that, in a different universe might have been his. He dies, possibly of the plague, happy and decidedly ignorant of who he himself really was. Mann passes no moral judgments against Aschenbach. This is no gay bashing novel nor does he hold it up as a trumpeting to engage in illicit activities, but in the ending of what-might-have-been, Mann suggests that life's choices and future happiness might better be served with a clearer moral vision of who we are, what we want, and where we are going.
Customer Rating:
Review Summary: Gorgeous
Review: Mann's masterpiece is an achingly beautiful, exquisitely crafted, spellbinding exploration of beauty, age, love, sex, life, and of course death. I can think of no other book where the setting so effectively establishes the book's atmosphere, so powerfully reinforces its themes and ideas. The plot is so simple, yet wrapped in layers of meaning, both inviting and resisting interpretation.
This book is short yet incredibly rich; it reminds me of a tiny, delicately carved precious jewel. And what a beautiful jewel to dive into and immerse oneself in. Read this book!
Customer Rating:
Review Summary: Poetic Pedophilia
Review: I did not like this book as much as many of the other reviewers. The main problem I had was that I simply could not relate to Aschenbach, the protaganist of the story. I mean, I thought that his obsession with the male child was weird. Unlike Lolita, there was no dark humor in the obsession. There was just a very raw, profound, longing and appreciation for the beauty of the young child. I found that somewhat sick and I cannot say that I've ever had many of the feelings that Aschenbach relates in the work.
Many people seem to think that the most boring part of this book is the part where Aschenbach thinks about his art. Maybe I'm an odd duck, but I actually found this to be the most interesting part of the novella. I like how Aschenbach talks about how he wants to make a name for himself through his art, and about how he wakes up early every morning to pour his soul into his craft. This is the part of the book that I best understood. It really resonated with me.
Even though the story was not my favorite, I must say that I appreciated the author's use of language. The translation I read (by Stanley Applebaum) was lively and captured the author's verbal imagination. I will probably never read this novella again, but I do think that I might like other work by Mann (provided that he is writing about different subject matter!).
I do not know who would really appreciate this book. I guess I would recommend this book largely to people who appreciate art for art's sake, and also to people who like novels which really penetrate the psyche of the main character. Readers less artistically inclined might find this work to be heavy sledding.
Customer Rating:
Review Summary: Excellent Translation in Dover Edition - Helpful Commentary
Review: Death in Venice (1912) is a disturbing story, one that is not easy to forget. It is also exceptional literature, a classic of the twentieth century. Thomas Mann's Death in Venice might be best compared to the subtle, psychologically complex fiction of Henry James, Joseph Conrad, and Fyodor Dostoevsky.
In Munich the aging, highly respected author Gustav Aschenbach is in need of change, rest in a new setting, to overcome his growing fatigue that is impacting his writing. While recovering in Venice, Aschenbach slowly, but inexorably, becomes mesmerized by a young Polish boy staying at the seashore with his aristocratic family. Aschenbach is intellectually aware of his growing obsession, but he is seemingly unable to break away. Thomas Mann's somber portrayal of this troubled man is a masterpiece of subtle nuances and psychological intensity.
Thomas Mann's lengthy sentences and complex grammatical structures severely complicate the task of translating Death in Venice. I have read two excellent and yet substantially different translations. The most faithful translation is by Stanley Appelbaum (in this Dover edition, 1995) that tries to be as literal as possible, carefully preserving the comparative length of the original sentences as well as the internal sequence of each original German sentence. Contrastingly, the H. T. Lowe-Porter translation (found elsewhere) is less literal, but is considered the most delightful and readable version, although at the expense of subdividing many of Mann's lengthy sentences. Lowe-Porter's version has been the standard translation for many years.
The Dover edition provides an excellent 10-page commentary, including footnotes.
Customer Rating:
Review Summary: Zero stars if I could
Review: I was a philosophy major in college and I hated this book. But then again, the whole NAMBLA fic genre really doesn't do it for me. I'm sure some literary aesthetes are going to pick this review apart, good for them. I'm incredibly well-read and thought this one was just a tepid bore. Save your time, read some Dostoevsky, some Dickens, some Milton, (...).
Review Summary: Regret Comes From Lack of Self-Awareness
Review: Thomas Mann has taken an ages old theme, the attraction of an older, worn out man for a youthful boy, dressed it up in a series of classical allusions, and details how this attraction merely accelerates the decay of the man whose decline began long before he first saw the boy. In DEATH IN VENICE, Gustave von Aschenbach is a German writer living in pre-World War I Europe, who has been trying to balance the struggles involved in maintaining his hard-worn writing laurels with the demands those struggles have placed on his life, his health, and his emotional keel. He has become an ascetic, denying himself the pleasures of the flesh. His muse is a jealous one and demands his attention full time. Over the years, he has willingly paid the price, but the true cost becomes apparent to him only as he turns fifty years of age. He senses a void in his life. He does not know what it is or how to compensate, so he decides that travel in the answer. One of the ironies of Mann's novella is that Aschenbach's readers undoubtedly give him credit for the worldly-wise sophisticate that his many literary works of art suggest he must be. But the truth is that because of his rigorous denial of himself, in terms of maturity and emotional serenity, he is a greenhorn. He tends to view the world as he does through his books, which are laden with an abundance of classical erudition. But the real world is not Plato's Republic reborn. It is a testing ground which favors those whose feet are firmly grounded in the world of the body. Early on, as Mann subtly alludes to Aschenbach's mental and physical infirmities, his fate is a doom foretold.
Aschenbach is puzzled by the continual appearance of a weird looking old man who pops up at convenient moments to glare at him in a puzzling manner. The first time that Aschenbach sees him, he pays him scant attention, but as the visits increase in his trips around Europe, both Aschenbach's and the reader's wonderment grow. After a while, the old man begins to assume allegorical--or at least mystical--proportions. One can almost see a misty haze envelop both during their encounters. It is tempting to treat these visitations as unreal hallucinations of a mind slowly unhinging with Aschenbach seeing a version of himself, following him around Europe, as if to remind him of his looming mortality.
While in Europe, he notices a good looking Polish boy of about fourteen. Aschenbach begins to fantasize about him but dares not do more than just gaze at him from a distance. As if in a rush, the years of ascetic self-denial rupture, opening the door to his latent homosexual tendencies. Mann cleverly avoids calling a spade a spade. Instead he dresses up this fantasy in terms of Aschenbach's limited social background that had been fueled by a lifetime of classical learning. The boy, whose name is Tadziu, is described as a young Adonis, an Apollo, and other such. The only words that pass between then occur at the very end, when Aschenbach sees the boy tormented by bullies and almost, but not quite, intervenes. Aschenbach locks eyes with the boy and in that moment he knows the forbidden joy that, in a different universe might have been his. He dies, possibly of the plague, happy and decidedly ignorant of who he himself really was. Mann passes no moral judgments against Aschenbach. This is no gay bashing novel nor does he hold it up as a trumpeting to engage in illicit activities, but in the ending of what-might-have-been, Mann suggests that life's choices and future happiness might better be served with a clearer moral vision of who we are, what we want, and where we are going.
Customer Rating:
Review Summary: Gorgeous
Review: Mann's masterpiece is an achingly beautiful, exquisitely crafted, spellbinding exploration of beauty, age, love, sex, life, and of course death. I can think of no other book where the setting so effectively establishes the book's atmosphere, so powerfully reinforces its themes and ideas. The plot is so simple, yet wrapped in layers of meaning, both inviting and resisting interpretation.
This book is short yet incredibly rich; it reminds me of a tiny, delicately carved precious jewel. And what a beautiful jewel to dive into and immerse oneself in. Read this book!
Customer Rating:
Review Summary: Poetic Pedophilia
Review: I did not like this book as much as many of the other reviewers. The main problem I had was that I simply could not relate to Aschenbach, the protaganist of the story. I mean, I thought that his obsession with the male child was weird. Unlike Lolita, there was no dark humor in the obsession. There was just a very raw, profound, longing and appreciation for the beauty of the young child. I found that somewhat sick and I cannot say that I've ever had many of the feelings that Aschenbach relates in the work.
Many people seem to think that the most boring part of this book is the part where Aschenbach thinks about his art. Maybe I'm an odd duck, but I actually found this to be the most interesting part of the novella. I like how Aschenbach talks about how he wants to make a name for himself through his art, and about how he wakes up early every morning to pour his soul into his craft. This is the part of the book that I best understood. It really resonated with me.
Even though the story was not my favorite, I must say that I appreciated the author's use of language. The translation I read (by Stanley Applebaum) was lively and captured the author's verbal imagination. I will probably never read this novella again, but I do think that I might like other work by Mann (provided that he is writing about different subject matter!).
I do not know who would really appreciate this book. I guess I would recommend this book largely to people who appreciate art for art's sake, and also to people who like novels which really penetrate the psyche of the main character. Readers less artistically inclined might find this work to be heavy sledding.
Customer Rating:
Review Summary: Excellent Translation in Dover Edition - Helpful Commentary
Review: Death in Venice (1912) is a disturbing story, one that is not easy to forget. It is also exceptional literature, a classic of the twentieth century. Thomas Mann's Death in Venice might be best compared to the subtle, psychologically complex fiction of Henry James, Joseph Conrad, and Fyodor Dostoevsky.
In Munich the aging, highly respected author Gustav Aschenbach is in need of change, rest in a new setting, to overcome his growing fatigue that is impacting his writing. While recovering in Venice, Aschenbach slowly, but inexorably, becomes mesmerized by a young Polish boy staying at the seashore with his aristocratic family. Aschenbach is intellectually aware of his growing obsession, but he is seemingly unable to break away. Thomas Mann's somber portrayal of this troubled man is a masterpiece of subtle nuances and psychological intensity.
Thomas Mann's lengthy sentences and complex grammatical structures severely complicate the task of translating Death in Venice. I have read two excellent and yet substantially different translations. The most faithful translation is by Stanley Appelbaum (in this Dover edition, 1995) that tries to be as literal as possible, carefully preserving the comparative length of the original sentences as well as the internal sequence of each original German sentence. Contrastingly, the H. T. Lowe-Porter translation (found elsewhere) is less literal, but is considered the most delightful and readable version, although at the expense of subdividing many of Mann's lengthy sentences. Lowe-Porter's version has been the standard translation for many years.
The Dover edition provides an excellent 10-page commentary, including footnotes.
Customer Rating:
Review Summary: Zero stars if I could
Review: I was a philosophy major in college and I hated this book. But then again, the whole NAMBLA fic genre really doesn't do it for me. I'm sure some literary aesthetes are going to pick this review apart, good for them. I'm incredibly well-read and thought this one was just a tepid bore. Save your time, read some Dostoevsky, some Dickens, some Milton, (...).