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Thomas Mann
Feb. 4th, 2016 09:17 pmOn a restless whim, I googled Adrian Leverkuhn, of Mann's novel "Doctor Faustus". I came across a 1948 book review in the Times and want to keep a couple of snippets. It does hit on the weak point of Mann's fiction, which is that it tends to be more expository or essayistic than dramatic or suspenseful, but, after all, Mann is a fascinating thinker.
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Strange indeed are the works of Thomas Mann and strange the mind that gives them birth. No writer in this century has won such universal [admiration] and none has felt himself more worthy of it. His erudition is stupendous, his achievements are enormous. A master of literature and a profound student of the life of man, Mr. Mann has devoted his life to a series of books that convey to their readers subtle and intricate analyses of Mr. Mann's thought. Most of his work has been fiction, novels and short stories; but little of his work has possessed the ordinary virtues of fiction, the ability to interest though the creation of interesting characters involved in interesting circumstances. In all his recent novels the philosophizing smothers the story telling.
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Thomas Mann's new novel is "Doctor Faustus: The Life of the German Composer Adrian Leverkühn as Told by a Friend."* One of Mr. Mann's major efforts, this long and ambitious novel is a formidable achievement, a vast compilation of speculative thought. As a work of philosophy, as a series of discourses on many important topics, as a literary tour de force, it is brilliant in its massive, ponderous, pedantic way. As a novel it is clumsy, stilted and wonderfully tedious. Only by the loosest possible use of the term can it be called a novel at all. Members of the Book-of-the-Month Club, whose co-selection for November it is, are in for a shock when they tackle "Doctor Faustus."
-- Orville Prescott at The New York Times (1948)
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Strange indeed are the works of Thomas Mann and strange the mind that gives them birth. No writer in this century has won such universal [admiration] and none has felt himself more worthy of it. His erudition is stupendous, his achievements are enormous. A master of literature and a profound student of the life of man, Mr. Mann has devoted his life to a series of books that convey to their readers subtle and intricate analyses of Mr. Mann's thought. Most of his work has been fiction, novels and short stories; but little of his work has possessed the ordinary virtues of fiction, the ability to interest though the creation of interesting characters involved in interesting circumstances. In all his recent novels the philosophizing smothers the story telling.
[...]
Thomas Mann's new novel is "Doctor Faustus: The Life of the German Composer Adrian Leverkühn as Told by a Friend."* One of Mr. Mann's major efforts, this long and ambitious novel is a formidable achievement, a vast compilation of speculative thought. As a work of philosophy, as a series of discourses on many important topics, as a literary tour de force, it is brilliant in its massive, ponderous, pedantic way. As a novel it is clumsy, stilted and wonderfully tedious. Only by the loosest possible use of the term can it be called a novel at all. Members of the Book-of-the-Month Club, whose co-selection for November it is, are in for a shock when they tackle "Doctor Faustus."
-- Orville Prescott at The New York Times (1948)
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