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Exercises in Style
The plot of Exercises in Style is quite simple: a man gets into an argument with another passenger on a bus. However, this anecdote is told ninety-nine more times, each in a radically different style, as a sonnet, an opera, in slang, and with many more permutations. This virtuoso set of variations is a linguistic rust-remover, and a guide to literary forms.
204 pages, Paperback
First published April 28, 1947
About the author
Raymond Queneau
193 books524 followersNovelist, poet, and critic Raymond Queneau, was born in Le Havre in 1903, and went to Paris when he was 17. For some time he joined André Breton's Surrealist group, but after only a brief stint he dissociated himself. Now, seeing Queneau's work in retrospect, it seems inevitable. The Surrealists tried to achieve a sort of pure expression from the unconscious, without mediation of the author's self-aware "persona." Queneau's texts, on the contrary, are quite deliberate products of the author's conscious mind, of his memory, and his intentionality.
Although Queneau's novels give an impression of enormous spontaneity, they were in fact painstakingly conceived in every small detail. He even once remarked that he simply could not leave to hazard the task of determining the number of chapters of a book. Talking about his first novel, Le Chiendent (usually translated as The Bark Tree), he pointed out that it had 91 sections, because 91 was the sum of the first 13 numbers, and also the product of two numbers he was particularly fond of: 7 and 13.
Although Queneau's novels give an impression of enormous spontaneity, they were in fact painstakingly conceived in every small detail. He even once remarked that he simply could not leave to hazard the task of determining the number of chapters of a book. Talking about his first novel, Le Chiendent (usually translated as The Bark Tree), he pointed out that it had 91 sections, because 91 was the sum of the first 13 numbers, and also the product of two numbers he was particularly fond of: 7 and 13.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 1,012 reviews
February 3, 2009
Meta
From what point of view should I review the book? Evidently: from all possible points of view.
Snobbish
Needless to say, I am reading the original French edition. I can hardly believe that his delicate linguistic irony would survive translation into English. Quelle horreur!
Vulgar
I laughed until I wet myself. Well, I should know better than to read this kind of book in the bathroom.
Pedantic
If nothing else, very educational. I have already learned the names of two figures of speech I didn't previously know.
Anxious
Wait... maybe someone else has already done this joke? Let me check the reviews. Oh, thank GoodReads, they haven't!
Pessimistic
The idea is certainly amusing at first. But I doubt he'll be able to keep it up for 99 different versions.
Grudging
Alright... this isn't as easy as one first thinks. I'm not even up to double figures, and I'm already running out of ideas. He was a smart guy.
Minimalist
Unique.
Conscience-stricken
I'm doing this? I should be working! But he is quite inspiring.
Practical
I will put the book on the coffee table, and read a couple of pages every now and then. I don't think you're meant to go cover-to-cover. Also, living in Cambridge as we do, I am sure that at least half our visitors will enjoy leafing through it.
From what point of view should I review the book? Evidently: from all possible points of view.
Snobbish
Needless to say, I am reading the original French edition. I can hardly believe that his delicate linguistic irony would survive translation into English. Quelle horreur!
Vulgar
I laughed until I wet myself. Well, I should know better than to read this kind of book in the bathroom.
Pedantic
If nothing else, very educational. I have already learned the names of two figures of speech I didn't previously know.
Anxious
Wait... maybe someone else has already done this joke? Let me check the reviews. Oh, thank GoodReads, they haven't!
Pessimistic
The idea is certainly amusing at first. But I doubt he'll be able to keep it up for 99 different versions.
Grudging
Alright... this isn't as easy as one first thinks. I'm not even up to double figures, and I'm already running out of ideas. He was a smart guy.
Minimalist
Unique.
Conscience-stricken
I'm doing this? I should be working! But he is quite inspiring.
Practical
I will put the book on the coffee table, and read a couple of pages every now and then. I don't think you're meant to go cover-to-cover. Also, living in Cambridge as we do, I am sure that at least half our visitors will enjoy leafing through it.
![Profile Image for Orsodimondo [part time reader at the moment].](https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/users/1528452721i/10490224._UY200_CR39,0,200,200_.jpg)
September 25, 2021
LE VARIAZIONI QUENEAU
Nel 1996 quattordici registi italiani furono coinvolti in un progetto temerario e sciagurato ampiamente ispirato al libro di Queneau: stesso titolo e stesso principio, cioè partire da una situazione narrativa riassunta in poche frasi, sviluppata poi in quattrodici generi cinematografici diversi. Nella foto si vede il regista di un episodio (secondo me il migliore), Mario Monicelli, con i due protagonisti di ogni segmento, Elena Sofia Ricci e Massimo Wertmüller. Le immagini che seguono sono tutte tratte dal film.
Queneau amava la matematica, amava i numeri.
Immagino amasse anche l’enigmistica.
E sicuramente amava il gioco, lo scherzo.
Non è difficile trovare queste sue passioni in questo librino meraviglioso, divertente, a tratti esilarante (uscito nel 1947).
Che nell’edizione in mio possesso è arricchito da una ghiotta prefazione del traduttore, nientepopodimeno che Umberto Eco in persona, traduttore fedele ma non letterale, traduttore inventore:
Diciamo che Queneau ha inventato un gioco e ne ha esplicitato le regole nel corso di una partita, splendidamente giocata nel 1947. Fedeltà significava capire le regole del gioco, rispettarle, r e poi giocare una nuova partita con lo stesso numero di mosse.
Partendo da una “notazione” che riporto qui sotto, Queneau costruisce novantotto variazioni della stessa, per ciascuna usando una diversa figura retorica (l’esercizio di stile indicato dal titolo).
Ma non solo figure retoriche (e non tutte le figure retoriche che esistono, altrimenti gli esercizi sarebbero più numerosi): la parodia abbraccia anche alcuni generi letterari e alcuni comportamenti linguistici quotidiani.
Ecco la base di partenza, riportata alla lettera:
Sulla S., in un’ora di traffico. Un tipo di circa ventisei anni, cappello floscio con una cordicella al posto del nastro, collo troppo lungo, come se glielo avessero tirato. La gente scende. Il tizio in questione si arrabbia con un vicino. Gli rimprovera di spingerlo ogni volta che passa qualcuno. Tono lamentoso, con pretese di cattiveria. Non appena vede un posto libero, vi si butta. Due ore più tardi lo incontro alla Cour de Rome, davanti alla Gare Saint-Lazare. È con un amico che gli dice: “Dovresti far mettere un bottone in più al soprabito”. Gli fa vedere dove (alla sciancratura) e perché.
Ma il gioco di Queneau non è così rigorosamente meccanico, non prende la retorica del tutto sul serio, procede con nonchalance, senz’ordine, seguendo l’estro, di cui certo non difettava.
Epperò, pur seguendo regole stabilite, RQ mostra e dimostra quanto si possa giocare con le parole.
Se le si conoscono.
E ora, per restare in tema, vado ad ascoltare la Variazioni Goldberg di Bach.
Foto di Angelo Turetta.
Nel 1996 quattordici registi italiani furono coinvolti in un progetto temerario e sciagurato ampiamente ispirato al libro di Queneau: stesso titolo e stesso principio, cioè partire da una situazione narrativa riassunta in poche frasi, sviluppata poi in quattrodici generi cinematografici diversi. Nella foto si vede il regista di un episodio (secondo me il migliore), Mario Monicelli, con i due protagonisti di ogni segmento, Elena Sofia Ricci e Massimo Wertmüller. Le immagini che seguono sono tutte tratte dal film.
Queneau amava la matematica, amava i numeri.
Immagino amasse anche l’enigmistica.
E sicuramente amava il gioco, lo scherzo.
Non è difficile trovare queste sue passioni in questo librino meraviglioso, divertente, a tratti esilarante (uscito nel 1947).
Che nell’edizione in mio possesso è arricchito da una ghiotta prefazione del traduttore, nientepopodimeno che Umberto Eco in persona, traduttore fedele ma non letterale, traduttore inventore:
Diciamo che Queneau ha inventato un gioco e ne ha esplicitato le regole nel corso di una partita, splendidamente giocata nel 1947. Fedeltà significava capire le regole del gioco, rispettarle, r e poi giocare una nuova partita con lo stesso numero di mosse.
Partendo da una “notazione” che riporto qui sotto, Queneau costruisce novantotto variazioni della stessa, per ciascuna usando una diversa figura retorica (l’esercizio di stile indicato dal titolo).
Ma non solo figure retoriche (e non tutte le figure retoriche che esistono, altrimenti gli esercizi sarebbero più numerosi): la parodia abbraccia anche alcuni generi letterari e alcuni comportamenti linguistici quotidiani.
Ecco la base di partenza, riportata alla lettera:
Sulla S., in un’ora di traffico. Un tipo di circa ventisei anni, cappello floscio con una cordicella al posto del nastro, collo troppo lungo, come se glielo avessero tirato. La gente scende. Il tizio in questione si arrabbia con un vicino. Gli rimprovera di spingerlo ogni volta che passa qualcuno. Tono lamentoso, con pretese di cattiveria. Non appena vede un posto libero, vi si butta. Due ore più tardi lo incontro alla Cour de Rome, davanti alla Gare Saint-Lazare. È con un amico che gli dice: “Dovresti far mettere un bottone in più al soprabito”. Gli fa vedere dove (alla sciancratura) e perché.
Ma il gioco di Queneau non è così rigorosamente meccanico, non prende la retorica del tutto sul serio, procede con nonchalance, senz’ordine, seguendo l’estro, di cui certo non difettava.
Epperò, pur seguendo regole stabilite, RQ mostra e dimostra quanto si possa giocare con le parole.
Se le si conoscono.
E ora, per restare in tema, vado ad ascoltare la Variazioni Goldberg di Bach.
Foto di Angelo Turetta.
November 15, 2018
Whenever I sit in a Café with an espresso and a croissant, I sometimes like to think that Georges Perec once sat exactly where I am sitting. Whenever on the Métro, I am somehow reminded of Luc Besson's 1985 film Subway. Whenever I climb into a taxi, it's just in the hope that the driver isn't some knife wielding maniac. The next time I happen to hop onto a bus, then there is every chance, Exercises in Style will immediately come to mind. Not 99 times though, just the once. Briefly tied in with the French Surrealist movement before breaking away, Raymond Queneau presents an incident on a bus between two passengers, where one accuses the other of stepping on his toes. After an exchange of words, the young man moves to another seat. Then later that same day, he is seen standing at a train station, where a friend is advising him to adjust one of the buttons on his overcoat.
And that's pretty much it.
Literally nothing else happens.
And by the end of the first page you have learned everything you are going to know about the events on which the book focuses.
But what follows, is the same incident played over and over and over again. Ninety-nine times to be exact. In different ways, told in different voices, different styles, and different points of view. It's like being trapped by a comic peerless prankster writing and rewriting and rewriting. But here's the thing - it was such a joy to read!. The laughably and ingeniously simple premise results in one of twentieth century fiction's best show-off acts. Each section has a utilitarian title - Hesitation, precision, Ignorance, Insistence, Awkward, Reactionary, to name a few. The core story could even have been something Queneau himself witnessed, and wrote about it simply because essentially it's of little or no importance. But it's a random anecdote that holds many ideas behind it. What's great is Queneau actually manages to transcend his own absurd restrictions by remaining punctiliously within each piece, at all times. The book somehow, and I don't know how, contrives to feel kind of profound even though it appears at first to be pointless.
One is left thinking by the end, of the endless possibilities that any simple story could be told. Exercises in Style has an effect on the reader that really opens the mind. It illuminates the reality of multiple perspectives from which everything can be viewed. The best way to read this (I found it helped anyway) is in as little time as possible, otherwise it's pleasures start to thin out. It went down a treat for me accompanied by a few beers!.
And that's pretty much it.
Literally nothing else happens.
And by the end of the first page you have learned everything you are going to know about the events on which the book focuses.
But what follows, is the same incident played over and over and over again. Ninety-nine times to be exact. In different ways, told in different voices, different styles, and different points of view. It's like being trapped by a comic peerless prankster writing and rewriting and rewriting. But here's the thing - it was such a joy to read!. The laughably and ingeniously simple premise results in one of twentieth century fiction's best show-off acts. Each section has a utilitarian title - Hesitation, precision, Ignorance, Insistence, Awkward, Reactionary, to name a few. The core story could even have been something Queneau himself witnessed, and wrote about it simply because essentially it's of little or no importance. But it's a random anecdote that holds many ideas behind it. What's great is Queneau actually manages to transcend his own absurd restrictions by remaining punctiliously within each piece, at all times. The book somehow, and I don't know how, contrives to feel kind of profound even though it appears at first to be pointless.
One is left thinking by the end, of the endless possibilities that any simple story could be told. Exercises in Style has an effect on the reader that really opens the mind. It illuminates the reality of multiple perspectives from which everything can be viewed. The best way to read this (I found it helped anyway) is in as little time as possible, otherwise it's pleasures start to thin out. It went down a treat for me accompanied by a few beers!.
July 7, 2018
What story can be told about a brief bus ride and a button?
This insignificant and infinitesimal event can be turned into a surreal vision:
And it can be turned into a philosophical thesis:
And also it may be turned into so many other smart things…
The skill and style can turn any negligible trifle into a masterpiece.
In literature there are no bad themes, there are bad writers.
This insignificant and infinitesimal event can be turned into a surreal vision:
In the centre of the day, tossed among the shoal of travelling sardines in a coleopter with a big white carapace, a chicken with a long, feather-less neck suddenly harangued one, a peace-abiding one, of their number, and its parlance, moist with protest, was unfolded upon the airs. Then, attracted by a void, the fledgling precipitated itself thereunto.
In a bleak, urban desert, I saw it again that selfsame day, drinking the cup of humiliation offered by a lowly button.
And it can be turned into a philosophical thesis:
Great cities alone can provide phenomenological spirituality with the essentialities of temporal and improbabilistic coincidences. The philosopher who occasionally ascends into the futile and utilitarian inexistentiality of an S bus can perceive therein with the lucidity of his pineal eye the transitory and faded appearance of a profane consciousness afflicted by the long neck of vanity and the hatly plait of ignorance. This matter, void of true entelechy, occasionally plunges into the categorical imperative of its recriminatory life force against the neo-Berkleyan unreality of a corporeal mechanism unburdened by conscience. This moral attitude then carries the more unconscious of the two towards a void spatiality where it disintegrates into its primary and crooked elements.
Philosophical research is then pursued normally by the fortuitous but anagogic encounter of the same being accompanied by its inessential and sartorial replica, which is noumenally advising it to transpose on the level of the understanding the concept of overcoat button situated sociologically too low.
And also it may be turned into so many other smart things…
The skill and style can turn any negligible trifle into a masterpiece.
In literature there are no bad themes, there are bad writers.
Read
December 2, 2015This is a lot of fun at the beginning as you realise exactly what Queneau has challenged himself to do here: rewrite the same little scene about a gangly young man in a badly fitting overcoat and an odd hat, in different styles, ninety-nine times! After number twenty however, the various word play games are no longer quite as funny. After number forty, you’re pretty sceptical about Queneau's mental health. By number sixty, you’re seriously worried about your own. By number eighty, you’re seeing that gangly young man everywhere you go. You skip to ninety-nine in a desperate attempt to save your sanity but no, it is not to be, the last line is more maddening than anything that went before: you are left wondering who Theodore is and why Albert didn’t recognise him when Theodore was advising the gangly young man in the odd hat how to alter his badly fitting overcoat in front of the Gare St Lazare? But wait, is that little overcoat scene the primary, the ultimate ‘exercise de style’? That would be a fine play on words indeed!
May 4, 2015
Only one book has ever “changed my life” (god, if only things were so simple that a book could change your life!) and that is Joyce’s Ulysses, and that only in terms of my ideas of dedication and rigor. It certainly didn’t unearth profound aspects of my personality that until that point were latent, it didn’t give me any guiding path in life to tread, it didn’t suddenly instill value into things that I before considered to be without value. What it primarily did was to show me the results of dedication- not only on Joyce’s part, but on my part- that is, that if I dedicated myself to reading and rereading and understanding this at first baffling text, that the reward would be a thousand times the effort I put into it. That Joyce was kind enough, generous enough, to create a work so complex, that resonates on so many levels and in so many poetic and humorous and satiric and intellectual and dramatic tones; and most of all, best of all, that he demands that his reader work a fraction as hard as he did. Because he knew that what he possessed inside himself, if expressed correctly, was capable of bringing a shimmer of aesthetic recognition across the imagination unlike anything that had come before or after. There really is only literature before- and after-Joyce, no matter your opinions on Ulysses itself. It is the Theory of Relativity for the arts. It destroyed and absorbed everything that came before it and influenced everything that came after.
From what I know of Queneau’s life, it too was changed by Ulysses. (He considered it a “magical act”). His reckoning with Joyce came after his graduation from the Sorbonne with a degree in philosophy and mathematics, where one of his great influences was Hegel. Now, I don’t know much about Hegel’s Absolute Idealism but I do know that it was a somewhat optimistic view of how the mind comes into contact with nature, and that philosophical problems are brought to resolution by integrating contradictions into our practices, rather than eliminating them or seeking to answer things by some ultimate “conclusion”. In other words, a dialogue rather than a “solve-all” was at the heart of our thinking and perception. An obvious aspect of this is that nature and our participation in it are all part of an extremely lengthy (some might say “infinite” (I won’t)) process. The particulars of the universe are always coming into being by a process through which they are in a contradictory communication with what they relate to, come into contact with. I assure you all this babble is leading to something. I hope. What I’m attempting to say is that Ulysses represents the expression of an absorption and assimilation of all the facets of the history of literature, and with Ulysses the history of literature ends. That is to say it necessarily begins anew. This is not a review of Ulysses, and this won’t go on much longer, I promise.
So what does an extremely intelligent human being interested in writing literature after the reckoning with Joyce do? Joyce himself had no recourse but, after annihilating the novel, to annihilate language itself (that is, create it anew) with Finnegans Wake. But what do the rest of us do? We look at literature with new eyes, we look for where it can go now. I think that is exactly the point Queneau was making with Exercises In Style. It attempts an observation and notation of what exactly language can do with fiction post-Joyce. (Beckett did this too. Many people did this, are doing this. This is what postmodernism is all about, coming to terms with Joyce). However, in contrast to Beckett, Queneau's profundities are always masked in the language of the quotidian, the everyday, the comedic, the banal. An utterly banal scene is recounted 99 times, in 99 styles. In these 99 recitations of the same scene we begin finally to focus on the medium and not the message, or the Hegelian contradiction or dialogue between the medium and the message (or lack of message). In some ways, the really revolutionary aspect of Exercises In Style is that it is so not revolutionary- it retells a scene that any of us might observe on any given day- but that it poses questions about the fundamentals of our reading experience, and therefore our living experience.
From what I know of Queneau’s life, it too was changed by Ulysses. (He considered it a “magical act”). His reckoning with Joyce came after his graduation from the Sorbonne with a degree in philosophy and mathematics, where one of his great influences was Hegel. Now, I don’t know much about Hegel’s Absolute Idealism but I do know that it was a somewhat optimistic view of how the mind comes into contact with nature, and that philosophical problems are brought to resolution by integrating contradictions into our practices, rather than eliminating them or seeking to answer things by some ultimate “conclusion”. In other words, a dialogue rather than a “solve-all” was at the heart of our thinking and perception. An obvious aspect of this is that nature and our participation in it are all part of an extremely lengthy (some might say “infinite” (I won’t)) process. The particulars of the universe are always coming into being by a process through which they are in a contradictory communication with what they relate to, come into contact with. I assure you all this babble is leading to something. I hope. What I’m attempting to say is that Ulysses represents the expression of an absorption and assimilation of all the facets of the history of literature, and with Ulysses the history of literature ends. That is to say it necessarily begins anew. This is not a review of Ulysses, and this won’t go on much longer, I promise.
So what does an extremely intelligent human being interested in writing literature after the reckoning with Joyce do? Joyce himself had no recourse but, after annihilating the novel, to annihilate language itself (that is, create it anew) with Finnegans Wake. But what do the rest of us do? We look at literature with new eyes, we look for where it can go now. I think that is exactly the point Queneau was making with Exercises In Style. It attempts an observation and notation of what exactly language can do with fiction post-Joyce. (Beckett did this too. Many people did this, are doing this. This is what postmodernism is all about, coming to terms with Joyce). However, in contrast to Beckett, Queneau's profundities are always masked in the language of the quotidian, the everyday, the comedic, the banal. An utterly banal scene is recounted 99 times, in 99 styles. In these 99 recitations of the same scene we begin finally to focus on the medium and not the message, or the Hegelian contradiction or dialogue between the medium and the message (or lack of message). In some ways, the really revolutionary aspect of Exercises In Style is that it is so not revolutionary- it retells a scene that any of us might observe on any given day- but that it poses questions about the fundamentals of our reading experience, and therefore our living experience.
Read
December 31, 2018
One very effective way I have found to squeeze the juice of wisdom from the books I read is to write a book review, which forces me to formulate my ideas and opinions in precise and clear (at least that is my intent) language.
However with Raymond Queneau's Exercises in Style we have a book that contains not only wisdom but many flavors of linguistic magic. Thus, I need to do more than simply write a book review. I found the solution: I read Barbara Wright's translation aloud, recording my voice on a digital recorder, and then listen while taking my walks.
Each of the 99 variations of this short tale of a young man with his long neck and felt hat is worth reading and listening to multiple times; matter of fact, it would be an aesthetic injustice to read through this novel once or twice and put it down, thinking you finished the book and did the author justice. No, no, no - that would be anti-Queneau!
Should I attempt to be linguistically clever, verbally crafty, syntactically cunning, offering astute wordplay, adroit repartee or ingenious punning? I should not and I will not. I will simply say how Queneau's novel is a one-of-a-kind adventure into language and the ways language can be used to tell a story. And, oh, lest I forget - the chapter heading are complete with fanciful, cartoonish illustrations of humans posing as the beginning letters of words, making the entire work that much more charming and piquant. Thank you Stefan Themerson for your artwork and thank you New Directions for your publishing creativity.
Barbara Wright does the English translation. And what a translation! A work of art in its own right (no pun intended). Barbara Wright's first career was that of a pianist and she found translating and playing piano have a great deal in common. She noted how both require an ability to, as she says in her own words, "present artistic works to an audience in a manner acceptable and satisfying to the composer or writer and honest in their interpretation."
As by way of example, here is the first line of the chapter entitled `Parechesis'. We read, "On the butt-end of a bulging bus which was transbustling an abundance of incubuses and Buchmanites from bumbledom towards their bungalows, a bumptious buckeen whose buttocks were remote from his bust and who was buttired in a boody ridiculous busby, buddenly had a bust-up with a robust buckra who was bumping into him: "Buccaneer, buzz off, you're butting my bunions!" Now such a beautiful boutique of buzzes baffles the brain . . . - well, you get the idea; I will stop there so as not to get carried away and bore.
Now that I put the finishing touches on my review, I bid you ado as I am off to the park, digital recorder in hand, poised to listen to Exercises In Style, and by so listening to float up into an ocean of linguistic light and aesthetic bliss. Tally-ho with Raymond Queneau.
French author Raymond Queneau, 1903-1976
August 27, 2016
Το βιβλίο αυτό ήταν σκέτη απόλαυση!
************************
- Οτ λιβλιο ταυτό νατη τέσκη λαυπόαση
- Το βιβλίο ναούμ, ήταν σκέτη ναουμ απόλαυση ναούμ...
- Το αντικείμενο με το σκληρό εξώφυλλο και τα φύλλα με γράμματα προκάλεσε τέρψη οφθαλμών και σκέψης...
Κάπως έτσι λοιπόν ο συγγραφέας παραλλάσει την ιστορία ενός νεαρού σε ένα λεωφορείο και δημιουργεί 99 διαφορετικού τύπου ιστορίες, οι οποίες είναι απολαυστικές και αναδεικνύουν το μεγαλείο της γλώσσας και της συγγραφής!!!
4/5 αστεράκια. Το διάβασα απνευστί με ένα μόνιμο χαμόγελο!!!
ΥΓ: Πολύ καλή η δουλειά του μεταφραστή....
************************
- Οτ λιβλιο ταυτό νατη τέσκη λαυπόαση
- Το βιβλίο ναούμ, ήταν σκέτη ναουμ απόλαυση ναούμ...
- Το αντικείμενο με το σκληρό εξώφυλλο και τα φύλλα με γράμματα προκάλεσε τέρψη οφθαλμών και σκέψης...
Κάπως έτσι λοιπόν ο συγγραφέας παραλλάσει την ιστορία ενός νεαρού σε ένα λεωφορείο και δημιουργεί 99 διαφορετικού τύπου ιστορίες, οι οποίες είναι απολαυστικές και αναδεικνύουν το μεγαλείο της γλώσσας και της συγγραφής!!!
4/5 αστεράκια. Το διάβασα απνευστί με ένα μόνιμο χαμόγελο!!!
ΥΓ: Πολύ καλή η δουλειά του μεταφραστή....
May 7, 2015
UPDATE: Queneau's Exercises in Style is given the Geoff Wilt treatment in Verbivoracious Festschrift Volume Three: The Syllabus.
-- Who the fuck writes the same thing 99 times over? Pretentious twit! Don't bother.
-- A masterpiece of style, grammar, innovation, elegance, a tour de force of wizardry, erudition, humour and social commentary. Chapeau M'sieur Queneau.
-- I didn't really get the headings. Were those meant to be chapters?
-- Mate, don't be late, address the great and adumbrate, there'll be a spate, the rules conflate, all congregate and share the plate.
-- Wright achieves that rare symbiosis between writer and translator, extending original material into witty, heady realms of delightful invention [Societe pour Les Jeux de Maux]
-- You are reading this review and wondering when it will all, surely, end?
-- ayiay maay oingay otay aysay ayiay eallyray njoyedeay tiay eryvay uchmay, othbay rightWay ndaay ueneauQay reaay rilliantbay - eezjay ddingaay yaay otay vereay ordway reaksbay ymay ittlelay indmay.
-- Personally, I have no idea why anybody would want to read the same story 99 times over, let alone write it. Must have nothing better to do with herhis life. *Sniff*. Not like some of us.
-- Oh, Queneau. But you know, writers have this metathing going on these days, you know. Just have to show their practice forms, you know, can't be satisfied with just writing a book, oh no, they have to show their working, you know. We used to do that in school. For maths, you know.
-- Book. Words. Repeated. Character. Same. Scene. No change. Conclusion? Run the logic past again, will you?
-- This book has no plot and no characters.
-- There were a number of reviews written about a book called Exercises in Style which was actually an exercise in style about another book called Exercices de Style which was about a not-yet middle-aged man with a long neck and a hat (with a string and not a ribbon) on a bus (in Paris) apparently arguing with an older man on a bus (in Paris) because the not-yet middle-aged man with a long neck and a hat (with a string and not a ribbon) on the bus (in Paris) thought that the older man on the bus (in Paris) was treading on the not-yet middle-aged toes of the not-yet middle-aged man with a long neck and a hat (with a string and not a ribbon) on the bus (in Paris) and later the not-yet middle-aged man with a long neck and a hat (with a string and not a ribbon) no longer on the bus (in Paris) met a friend dressed similarly who apparently was telling the not-yet middle-aged man with a long neck and a hat (with a string and not a ribbon) no longer on the bus (in Paris) that the button on the coat of the not-yet middle-aged man with a long neck and a hat (with a string and not a ribbon) no longer on the bus (in Paris) was placed too low on the coat of the not-yet middle-aged man with a long neck and a hat (with a string and not a ribbon) no longer on the bus (in Paris) and needed to be placed higher on the coat of the not-yet middle-aged man with a long neck and a hat (with a string and not a ribbon) no longer on the bus (in Paris) and these other reviews seemed to suggest that there were as many views regarding this book about a not-yet middle-aged man with a long neck and a hat (with a string and not a ribbon) on a bus (in Paris) apparently arguing with an older man on a bus (in Paris) because the not-yet middle-aged man with a long neck and a hat (with a string and not a ribbon) on the bus thought that the older man on the bus (in Paris) was treading on the not-yet middle-aged toes of the not-yet middle-aged man with a long neck and a hat (with a string and not a ribbon) on a bus (in Paris) and later the not-yet middle-aged man with a long neck and a hat (with a string and not a ribbon) no longer on the bus (in Paris) met a friend dressed similarly who apparently was telling the not-yet middle-aged man with a long neck and a hat (with a string and not a ribbon) no longer on the bus (in Paris) that the button on the coat of the not-yet middle-aged man with a long neck and a hat (with a string and not a ribbon) no longer on the bus (in Paris) was placed too low on the coat of the not-yet middle-aged man with a long neck and a hat (with a string and not a ribbon) no longer on the bus (in Paris) and needed to be placed higher on the coat of the not-yet middle-aged man with a long neck and a hat (with a string and not a ribbon) no longer on the bus (in Paris) as there were variations on the theme about a not-yet middle-aged man with a long neck and a hat (with a string and not a ribbon) on a bus (in Paris) apparently arguing with an older man on a bus (in Paris) because the not-yet middle-aged man with a long neck and a hat (with a string and not a ribbon) on the bus (in Paris) thought that the older man on the bus (in Paris) was treading on the not-yet middle-aged toes of the not-yet middle-aged man with a long neck and a hat (with a string and not a ribbon) on the bus (in Paris) and later the not-yet middle-aged man with a long neck and a hat (with a string and not a ribbon) no longer on the bus (in Paris) met a friend dressed similarly who apparently was telling the not-yet middle-aged man with a long neck and a hat (with a string and not a ribbon) no longer on the bus (in Paris) that the button on the coat of the not-yet middle-aged man with a long neck and a hat (with a string and not a ribbon) no longer on the bus (in Paris) was placed too low on the coat of the not-yet middle-aged man with a long neck and a hat (with a string and not a ribbon) no longer on the bus (in Paris) and needed to be placed higher on the coat of the not-yet middle-aged man with a long neck and a hat (with a string and not a ribbon) no longer on the bus (in Paris).
-- Zis eez reelly going tu-tu far wiz ze pharrow dayee. Ayee ate it, zis eez tripe.
-- Who the fuck writes the same thing 99 times over? Pretentious twit! Don't bother.
-- A masterpiece of style, grammar, innovation, elegance, a tour de force of wizardry, erudition, humour and social commentary. Chapeau M'sieur Queneau.
-- I didn't really get the headings. Were those meant to be chapters?
-- Mate, don't be late, address the great and adumbrate, there'll be a spate, the rules conflate, all congregate and share the plate.
-- Wright achieves that rare symbiosis between writer and translator, extending original material into witty, heady realms of delightful invention [Societe pour Les Jeux de Maux]
-- You are reading this review and wondering when it will all, surely, end?
-- ayiay maay oingay otay aysay ayiay eallyray njoyedeay tiay eryvay uchmay, othbay rightWay ndaay ueneauQay reaay rilliantbay - eezjay ddingaay yaay otay vereay ordway reaksbay ymay ittlelay indmay.
-- Personally, I have no idea why anybody would want to read the same story 99 times over, let alone write it. Must have nothing better to do with herhis life. *Sniff*. Not like some of us.
-- Oh, Queneau. But you know, writers have this metathing going on these days, you know. Just have to show their practice forms, you know, can't be satisfied with just writing a book, oh no, they have to show their working, you know. We used to do that in school. For maths, you know.
-- Book. Words. Repeated. Character. Same. Scene. No change. Conclusion? Run the logic past again, will you?
-- This book has no plot and no characters.
-- There were a number of reviews written about a book called Exercises in Style which was actually an exercise in style about another book called Exercices de Style which was about a not-yet middle-aged man with a long neck and a hat (with a string and not a ribbon) on a bus (in Paris) apparently arguing with an older man on a bus (in Paris) because the not-yet middle-aged man with a long neck and a hat (with a string and not a ribbon) on the bus (in Paris) thought that the older man on the bus (in Paris) was treading on the not-yet middle-aged toes of the not-yet middle-aged man with a long neck and a hat (with a string and not a ribbon) on the bus (in Paris) and later the not-yet middle-aged man with a long neck and a hat (with a string and not a ribbon) no longer on the bus (in Paris) met a friend dressed similarly who apparently was telling the not-yet middle-aged man with a long neck and a hat (with a string and not a ribbon) no longer on the bus (in Paris) that the button on the coat of the not-yet middle-aged man with a long neck and a hat (with a string and not a ribbon) no longer on the bus (in Paris) was placed too low on the coat of the not-yet middle-aged man with a long neck and a hat (with a string and not a ribbon) no longer on the bus (in Paris) and needed to be placed higher on the coat of the not-yet middle-aged man with a long neck and a hat (with a string and not a ribbon) no longer on the bus (in Paris) and these other reviews seemed to suggest that there were as many views regarding this book about a not-yet middle-aged man with a long neck and a hat (with a string and not a ribbon) on a bus (in Paris) apparently arguing with an older man on a bus (in Paris) because the not-yet middle-aged man with a long neck and a hat (with a string and not a ribbon) on the bus thought that the older man on the bus (in Paris) was treading on the not-yet middle-aged toes of the not-yet middle-aged man with a long neck and a hat (with a string and not a ribbon) on a bus (in Paris) and later the not-yet middle-aged man with a long neck and a hat (with a string and not a ribbon) no longer on the bus (in Paris) met a friend dressed similarly who apparently was telling the not-yet middle-aged man with a long neck and a hat (with a string and not a ribbon) no longer on the bus (in Paris) that the button on the coat of the not-yet middle-aged man with a long neck and a hat (with a string and not a ribbon) no longer on the bus (in Paris) was placed too low on the coat of the not-yet middle-aged man with a long neck and a hat (with a string and not a ribbon) no longer on the bus (in Paris) and needed to be placed higher on the coat of the not-yet middle-aged man with a long neck and a hat (with a string and not a ribbon) no longer on the bus (in Paris) as there were variations on the theme about a not-yet middle-aged man with a long neck and a hat (with a string and not a ribbon) on a bus (in Paris) apparently arguing with an older man on a bus (in Paris) because the not-yet middle-aged man with a long neck and a hat (with a string and not a ribbon) on the bus (in Paris) thought that the older man on the bus (in Paris) was treading on the not-yet middle-aged toes of the not-yet middle-aged man with a long neck and a hat (with a string and not a ribbon) on the bus (in Paris) and later the not-yet middle-aged man with a long neck and a hat (with a string and not a ribbon) no longer on the bus (in Paris) met a friend dressed similarly who apparently was telling the not-yet middle-aged man with a long neck and a hat (with a string and not a ribbon) no longer on the bus (in Paris) that the button on the coat of the not-yet middle-aged man with a long neck and a hat (with a string and not a ribbon) no longer on the bus (in Paris) was placed too low on the coat of the not-yet middle-aged man with a long neck and a hat (with a string and not a ribbon) no longer on the bus (in Paris) and needed to be placed higher on the coat of the not-yet middle-aged man with a long neck and a hat (with a string and not a ribbon) no longer on the bus (in Paris).
-- Zis eez reelly going tu-tu far wiz ze pharrow dayee. Ayee ate it, zis eez tripe.
February 24, 2013
Blurb
MJ Nicholls
Erik
Traveller
Megha
Stephen M
Manny
Scribble
Paul Bryant
Ian Graye
Riku
s.penkevich
Garima
Nathan
Sean Wayne
DJ Ian
Richard
Rakhi
Ted
Bird Brian
Steve
Praj
Aubrey
MJ Nicholls
Erik
Traveller
Megha
Stephen M
Manny
Scribble
Paul Bryant
Ian Graye
Riku
s.penkevich
Garima
Nathan
Sean Wayne
DJ Ian
Richard
Rakhi
Ted
Bird Brian
Steve
Praj
Aubrey
September 28, 2021
Basic
I really loved this book! I read it once, and then again for a good measure.
Neithering
Neither hated nor liked. Neither a movie nor an audio recording. Neither read once nor thrice.
Shakespearean
I very much did love this booketh! i readeth t once apace and then again but soft sav'ring the details.
Epistolary
Dear Sir or Madam, it is my sincere hope that this message finds you in good health. This is just a short note to let you know that I veritably relished the book which I am sincerely recommending you while remaining your ever devoted servant.
Passive
The book felt really loved as it was read two times (and even marked with a pencil!).
Passive-Aggressive
Since you didn't even ask how I liked the book, I'll have you know that I liked it a lot even though you probably thought it too ambitious for me. In fact, I read it twice so there is no need to remind me that I am 28 books behind the schedule, thanks.
Nominal
I theodorly loved this hugh. I fred it once and then liz it again a little bit spencer.
Confessional
Forgive me Father Librarian for I have sinned by underlining this book with a pencil... How many times...? Oh... several, I’m afraid... But I really couldn’t resist the temptation...
Frenglish
I 'ighly recommend zis fantastique book! It is quite 'ilarious, non? Read it deux times (preferably at least once in ze original français).
Negative
I hated the book so much I could not even open it once.
Textual
btw i <3 that book! so funny lmao! idk if i read better this year imo u should read it 2!
Dialogical
"So," said Mr de Vries with a certain smugness. "I totally knew she would love it."
"How so?" asked John over his beer.
"She read it twice," explained Mr de Vries. And then added, "In one evening! I always know which books are best."
I really loved this book! I read it once, and then again for a good measure.
Neithering
Neither hated nor liked. Neither a movie nor an audio recording. Neither read once nor thrice.
Shakespearean
I very much did love this booketh! i readeth t once apace and then again but soft sav'ring the details.
Epistolary
Dear Sir or Madam, it is my sincere hope that this message finds you in good health. This is just a short note to let you know that I veritably relished the book which I am sincerely recommending you while remaining your ever devoted servant.
Passive
The book felt really loved as it was read two times (and even marked with a pencil!).
Passive-Aggressive
Since you didn't even ask how I liked the book, I'll have you know that I liked it a lot even though you probably thought it too ambitious for me. In fact, I read it twice so there is no need to remind me that I am 28 books behind the schedule, thanks.
Nominal
I theodorly loved this hugh. I fred it once and then liz it again a little bit spencer.
Confessional
Forgive me Father Librarian for I have sinned by underlining this book with a pencil... How many times...? Oh... several, I’m afraid... But I really couldn’t resist the temptation...
Frenglish
I 'ighly recommend zis fantastique book! It is quite 'ilarious, non? Read it deux times (preferably at least once in ze original français).
Negative
I hated the book so much I could not even open it once.
Textual
btw i <3 that book! so funny lmao! idk if i read better this year imo u should read it 2!
Dialogical
"So," said Mr de Vries with a certain smugness. "I totally knew she would love it."
"How so?" asked John over his beer.
"She read it twice," explained Mr de Vries. And then added, "In one evening! I always know which books are best."
January 22, 2012
I feel like this book's high average rating is caused mostly by the fact that the only people who would even know about it are the sort of people who'd like it. So, though I didn't hate it completely, I'm here to offer a dissenting opinion:
This book kind of sucks.
It's a short, anticlimactic anecdote about a scuffle on a bus, told in 99 different styles. I imagine this is already enough to turn off most people, but in case this still sounds really good to you, be apprised that none of those styles actually include anything that would ordinarily be considered "good" writing. At best, it's parody of purple prose; at worst, complete nonsense. Several "styles" are just lopping off the beginning of the words (apheresis), or cutting the ends short (apocope), or, hell, just removing the middle (syncope). Allow me to just quote, in increasing order of offensiveness:
from Philosophic: "great cities alone can provide phenomenological spirituality with the essentialities of temporal and improbabilistic coincidences."
from Noble: "the hour when the rosy fingers of the dawn started to crack I climbed, rapid as a tongue of flame, into a bus, mighty of stature and with cow-like eyes, of the S-line of sinuous course."
from Prosthesis: "ga shat kwith va splaited acord xinstead yof va cribbon cround pit."
from Permutations by groups of 5, 6, 7, and 8 letters: "lyhest sudden oharan artedt neighb guehis imingt ourcla urpose hathep onhist lytrod rytime oeseve gotino anyone rout." (spell-checker is working overtime tonight)
I'm not being entirely fair here; some of the little sections are decent ideas, decently written, describing the situation only in terms of smell, or taste, or whatever. But for the majority of the others, I can think of only a few possible motivations for their existence:
A) Queneau needed some filler, because the 10 or so good ones don't constitute full-book material.
B) Queneau wanted to show off his Greek. (viz. epenthesis, metathesis, paragoge, homeoptotes, polyptotes)
C) Queneau is trying to distract us from the fact that he's not actually a good writer.
Ultimately, it comes down to the fact that it's all better in theory. You read "Prosthesis" and think, hmm, that's interesting, I wonder what he's going to do here. Then you see he's just tacking a single random letter onto the front of every word. Do you read it to the end? There's nothing interesting about it; you already know the story and you've figured out this so-called "style." So you skip it, only to realize that if you do that with each one, you're skipping 80 percent of the book. But so be it. One more quote for the road:
"An houate aftrate, in front of the Saint-Lazate gate, I notate him agate, talkate about a buttate, a buttate on his overcate."
This book kind of sucks.
It's a short, anticlimactic anecdote about a scuffle on a bus, told in 99 different styles. I imagine this is already enough to turn off most people, but in case this still sounds really good to you, be apprised that none of those styles actually include anything that would ordinarily be considered "good" writing. At best, it's parody of purple prose; at worst, complete nonsense. Several "styles" are just lopping off the beginning of the words (apheresis), or cutting the ends short (apocope), or, hell, just removing the middle (syncope). Allow me to just quote, in increasing order of offensiveness:
from Philosophic: "great cities alone can provide phenomenological spirituality with the essentialities of temporal and improbabilistic coincidences."
from Noble: "the hour when the rosy fingers of the dawn started to crack I climbed, rapid as a tongue of flame, into a bus, mighty of stature and with cow-like eyes, of the S-line of sinuous course."
from Prosthesis: "ga shat kwith va splaited acord xinstead yof va cribbon cround pit."
from Permutations by groups of 5, 6, 7, and 8 letters: "lyhest sudden oharan artedt neighb guehis imingt ourcla urpose hathep onhist lytrod rytime oeseve gotino anyone rout." (spell-checker is working overtime tonight)
I'm not being entirely fair here; some of the little sections are decent ideas, decently written, describing the situation only in terms of smell, or taste, or whatever. But for the majority of the others, I can think of only a few possible motivations for their existence:
A) Queneau needed some filler, because the 10 or so good ones don't constitute full-book material.
B) Queneau wanted to show off his Greek. (viz. epenthesis, metathesis, paragoge, homeoptotes, polyptotes)
C) Queneau is trying to distract us from the fact that he's not actually a good writer.
Ultimately, it comes down to the fact that it's all better in theory. You read "Prosthesis" and think, hmm, that's interesting, I wonder what he's going to do here. Then you see he's just tacking a single random letter onto the front of every word. Do you read it to the end? There's nothing interesting about it; you already know the story and you've figured out this so-called "style." So you skip it, only to realize that if you do that with each one, you're skipping 80 percent of the book. But so be it. One more quote for the road:
"An houate aftrate, in front of the Saint-Lazate gate, I notate him agate, talkate about a buttate, a buttate on his overcate."
July 31, 2020
Το βιβλίο αυτό ήτανε να’ούμε πολύ μόρτικο, αλλά και συνάμα ψυχασθενιάρικο διότι δε λέω, μπράβο του τού τύπου, μαγκιά του που έκατσε ο αθεόφοβος κι έγραψε 99 φορές το ίδιο σενάριο με άλλο στυλ κάθε φορά, τι να πω; Καθένας με την τρέλα του! Κι ο Κυριακίδης πολύ τσάκαλος να’ούμε, θέλει κότσια να μεταφράσεις την τρέλα του καθενός, ειδικά αυτουνού που την είχε μπόλικη, το ίδιο στόρι σε 99 ύφη ρε φίλε; Πρέπει να μάτωσε το ανθρωπάκι, μπράβο τους πάντως και του ενός και του άλλου, τα ρέστα μου.
September 19, 2023
Esercizi di stile, sono appunto 99 esercizi che l'autore ha fatto per la stesura di un libro. Qui, nello specifico, l'esempio che fa è su una semplice situazione quotidiana che può succedere a chiunque...
Di certo è un libro adatto agli addetti ai lavori, cioè scrittori, giornalisti, ecc... direi che questo libretto sia molto prezioso soprattutto per gli scrittori esordienti o per chi sia in crisi creativa.
A me, che non sono un addetto ai lavori, è risultato a tratti divertente, a tratti disorientante (soprattutto per quegli esercizi di cui non ne sapevo nulla). Nel complesso, comunque, un libro che merita una lettura almeno nella vita. Per chi ama i libri, la letteratura e tutto ciò che sta dietro alla stesura di un'opera letteraria, questo libro è imprescindibile.
Di certo è un libro adatto agli addetti ai lavori, cioè scrittori, giornalisti, ecc... direi che questo libretto sia molto prezioso soprattutto per gli scrittori esordienti o per chi sia in crisi creativa.
A me, che non sono un addetto ai lavori, è risultato a tratti divertente, a tratti disorientante (soprattutto per quegli esercizi di cui non ne sapevo nulla). Nel complesso, comunque, un libro che merita una lettura almeno nella vita. Per chi ama i libri, la letteratura e tutto ciò che sta dietro alla stesura di un'opera letteraria, questo libro è imprescindibile.
March 9, 2021
[23rd book of 2021. Artist for this review is French artist Robert Delaunay.]
My father is a casual reader; on some evenings I find him reading Maugham or Greene, for a time he was reading Murakami often, or John le Carré. The other day I outlined the premise of this book for him and he began to laugh. Yes, I told him, it is a book comprised of the same scene (a scuffle on a bus and a later coincidence) written 99 times, each time in a different style. He adored the idea, and so I read him some examples as they are usually no more than a page or two each. And each time he laughed, he craned his neck to see the page as if he didn't believe I was truly reading from it; he asked, when I was finished, would he be able to read it?
"Rhythm no.1"—1938
Queneau is funny, surprisingly so. The challenge here is undeniable, and it becomes a challenge reading it, certainly reading too much at once, as it is repetitive as it is brilliant, boring as it is funny and banal as it is inventive. It is Oulipo to the extreme. It is self-mocking and wholly serious at once. My blurb poses, "A serious linguistic study, even a philosophical comment on human behaviour..."
"Circular Forms"—1930
Here are some of the styles used in the book:
Metaphorically, Surprises, Dream, Word-Composition, Animism, Anagrams, Blurb, Onomatopoeia, Ignorance, Passive, Alexandrines, Apocope, Noble, Cockney, Comedy, Parechesis, Spectral, Sonnet, Tactile, Telegraphic, Ode, Permutations by Groups of 2, 3, 4 and 5 Letters, Hellenisms, Haiku, Paragoge, Metathesis, Back Slang, Dog Latin, Opera English, Medical, Abusive, Zoological, Mathematical, Interjections, etc.
There are more. The book is a linguistic treat. Anyone interested in language and style should read it. The casual reader, like my father, may also be surprised. Read with breaks. Avoid buses. Laugh—everyone involved is being mocked.
My father is a casual reader; on some evenings I find him reading Maugham or Greene, for a time he was reading Murakami often, or John le Carré. The other day I outlined the premise of this book for him and he began to laugh. Yes, I told him, it is a book comprised of the same scene (a scuffle on a bus and a later coincidence) written 99 times, each time in a different style. He adored the idea, and so I read him some examples as they are usually no more than a page or two each. And each time he laughed, he craned his neck to see the page as if he didn't believe I was truly reading from it; he asked, when I was finished, would he be able to read it?
"Rhythm no.1"—1938
Queneau is funny, surprisingly so. The challenge here is undeniable, and it becomes a challenge reading it, certainly reading too much at once, as it is repetitive as it is brilliant, boring as it is funny and banal as it is inventive. It is Oulipo to the extreme. It is self-mocking and wholly serious at once. My blurb poses, "A serious linguistic study, even a philosophical comment on human behaviour..."
"Circular Forms"—1930
Here are some of the styles used in the book:
Metaphorically, Surprises, Dream, Word-Composition, Animism, Anagrams, Blurb, Onomatopoeia, Ignorance, Passive, Alexandrines, Apocope, Noble, Cockney, Comedy, Parechesis, Spectral, Sonnet, Tactile, Telegraphic, Ode, Permutations by Groups of 2, 3, 4 and 5 Letters, Hellenisms, Haiku, Paragoge, Metathesis, Back Slang, Dog Latin, Opera English, Medical, Abusive, Zoological, Mathematical, Interjections, etc.
There are more. The book is a linguistic treat. Anyone interested in language and style should read it. The casual reader, like my father, may also be surprised. Read with breaks. Avoid buses. Laugh—everyone involved is being mocked.
October 8, 2021
99 MODI DI SPERIMENTARE
Un evento di banale importanza viene raccontato in 99 modi diversi.
La traduzione di Umberto Eco gareggia spesso con l'autore, mettendo in evidenza anche il suo talento da scrittore. Gli esercizi giocano con le figure retoriche, con le prospettive, i registri discorsivi o i campi semantici. Divertente, sperimentale, consigliato.
Un evento di banale importanza viene raccontato in 99 modi diversi.
La traduzione di Umberto Eco gareggia spesso con l'autore, mettendo in evidenza anche il suo talento da scrittore. Gli esercizi giocano con le figure retoriche, con le prospettive, i registri discorsivi o i campi semantici. Divertente, sperimentale, consigliato.
November 21, 2019
С ЕМОТИКОНИ
🕛🚐🤠🦴🧶😤😩👞🥾🧐🥴💺
🕑🚂🏫🤠🤠🧥🔘🔼
ЕСНАФСКО
Наложи се вчера по обяд да взема рейса до фитнеса, щото теслата е у жената днес, а тротинетка около офиса няма никаква. Леле това градския транспорт в Мордор верно е ужас, нищо чудно, че всички селяни са на мръсните си коли! Впрочем не знам защо не си купят електрически, ебаси малоумните замърсители, ама такъв ни е матряла, какво да се прави. Та в тоя миризлив рейс, нагъчкани едни жалкари, провинциалисти сигурно, и някакъв проскубан студент със супер нелепа шапка - сигурно в родното му място минава за статус символ - почна да вика как някакъв пенсионер го бил настъпвал, когато се качвали и слизали хора. Страхотно ми пречеха да си чета книгата по история на барберството. После оня се покри, като видя празна седалка - типично, смелчага само на думи, ето затова няма да се оправи тази държава. За протестите сигурно не е чувал. Просто едва изтраях до спирката.
И на връщане се наложи да взема рейса, защото къде ти тротинетки в тоя панелен ад на периферията на София? Ще трябва да сменям работата, след като не могат да осигурят елементарното удобство да имаш фитнес в същата сграда. Та от прозореца на рейса го видях тоя същия селянин с някакъв друг навлек като него пред Сточна гара да обсъждат облеклото си. Лол, все едно някога са чували за Дзеня или поне за Том Форд. Ох, нямам търпение да дойде време да ходим на палатки в Скандинавието, това не се трае.
***
СОФИЙСКО
Начи бате, качвам се в рейса неска по обед, щото бегах от даскало. И вътре, бате, некъв гъз – ама тъп ти казвам, дигна некъв ебати скандала, бате. Били го бутали, ми в рейса кво иска. Вика, вика и избега да седне, бате, казвам ти, пълен гъз.
Към 5, бехме се направили на гъз с френдовете, и се връщам пак с рейса, бате, и гледам оня същия гъз пред Попа с некъв същия като него, бате – и оня: „Аре опраи се бе, глей къв си изсулен”. Пълен шит, бате, казвам ти.
БУРГАСКО
Ко стаа ве лек! Въй, лек, неска ако знайш ко стана... Начи по обяд се качвам аз в 211, ама фраш ти казвам, лек! И точно до мене, отпреде, някво лице, ама ако знайш колко прост, въййй! 100 на 100 беше от Меден рудник, лек. С няква тъпа шапка с конче. И почна да кряка някъв, да се репчи на няква нацепена батка до него. Обаче като стана напечена работата, се покри някъде отзаде на рейса.
После в 5 часа, лек, ходя си аз по Александровска и на Часовника гледам същото лице с някъв маняк, дето му разправя да се барнел по-така, че не бил достатъчно натокан. Яката работа, лек!
ПОЛИТИЧЕСКИ КОРЕКТНО
Днес по обяд в един автобус от обществения транспорт със запълнен капацитет случайно п��паднах в близкостоящо положение до две личности, едната над 20те, а другата около 40те години, и двете в разцвета на силите си. Първата личност, която беше с по-висок от средния ръст, изрази с малко по-висок от средното тон несъгласието си с действията на втората, които окачестви като причиняващи известен дискомфорт на долните му крайници, като изказа предположение, че тези действия не са напълно непреднамерени. След като изложи мнението си в завършен вид, първата личност отиде да заеме едно освободило се място, като не прояви специално отношение към други пътници по полов или възрастов признак с опит да им отстъпи това място.
Няколко часа по-късно случайно попаднах на същата личност на един площад, разхождаща се с друга личност, която може да му е била колкото приятел или колега, толкова и интимен партньор. Втората личност предложи съвет на първата относно връхната му дреха, който беше безпристрастен и непредизвикан от патриархални представи за мъжественост в облеклото.
🕛🚐🤠🦴🧶😤😩👞🥾🧐🥴💺
🕑🚂🏫🤠🤠🧥🔘🔼
ЕСНАФСКО
Наложи се вчера по обяд да взема рейса до фитнеса, щото теслата е у жената днес, а тротинетка около офиса няма никаква. Леле това градския транспорт в Мордор верно е ужас, нищо чудно, че всички селяни са на мръсните си коли! Впрочем не знам защо не си купят електрически, ебаси малоумните замърсители, ама такъв ни е матряла, какво да се прави. Та в тоя миризлив рейс, нагъчкани едни жалкари, провинциалисти сигурно, и някакъв проскубан студент със супер нелепа шапка - сигурно в родното му място минава за статус символ - почна да вика как някакъв пенсионер го бил настъпвал, когато се качвали и слизали хора. Страхотно ми пречеха да си чета книгата по история на барберството. После оня се покри, като видя празна седалка - типично, смелчага само на думи, ето затова няма да се оправи тази държава. За протестите сигурно не е чувал. Просто едва изтраях до спирката.
И на връщане се наложи да взема рейса, защото къде ти тротинетки в тоя панелен ад на периферията на София? Ще трябва да сменям работата, след като не могат да осигурят елементарното удобство да имаш фитнес в същата сграда. Та от прозореца на рейса го видях тоя същия селянин с някакъв друг навлек като него пред Сточна гара да обсъждат облеклото си. Лол, все едно някога са чували за Дзеня или поне за Том Форд. Ох, нямам търпение да дойде време да ходим на палатки в Скандинавието, това не се трае.
***
СОФИЙСКО
Начи бате, качвам се в рейса неска по обед, щото бегах от даскало. И вътре, бате, некъв гъз – ама тъп ти казвам, дигна некъв ебати скандала, бате. Били го бутали, ми в рейса кво иска. Вика, вика и избега да седне, бате, казвам ти, пълен гъз.
Към 5, бехме се направили на гъз с френдовете, и се връщам пак с рейса, бате, и гледам оня същия гъз пред Попа с некъв същия като него, бате – и оня: „Аре опраи се бе, глей къв си изсулен”. Пълен шит, бате, казвам ти.
БУРГАСКО
Ко стаа ве лек! Въй, лек, неска ако знайш ко стана... Начи по обяд се качвам аз в 211, ама фраш ти казвам, лек! И точно до мене, отпреде, някво лице, ама ако знайш колко прост, въййй! 100 на 100 беше от Меден рудник, лек. С няква тъпа шапка с конче. И почна да кряка някъв, да се репчи на няква нацепена батка до него. Обаче като стана напечена работата, се покри някъде отзаде на рейса.
После в 5 часа, лек, ходя си аз по Александровска и на Часовника гледам същото лице с някъв маняк, дето му разправя да се барнел по-така, че не бил достатъчно натокан. Яката работа, лек!
ПОЛИТИЧЕСКИ КОРЕКТНО
Днес по обяд в един автобус от обществения транспорт със запълнен капацитет случайно п��паднах в близкостоящо положение до две личности, едната над 20те, а другата около 40те години, и двете в разцвета на силите си. Първата личност, която беше с по-висок от средния ръст, изрази с малко по-висок от средното тон несъгласието си с действията на втората, които окачестви като причиняващи известен дискомфорт на долните му крайници, като изказа предположение, че тези действия не са напълно непреднамерени. След като изложи мнението си в завършен вид, първата личност отиде да заеме едно освободило се място, като не прояви специално отношение към други пътници по полов или възрастов признак с опит да им отстъпи това място.
Няколко часа по-късно случайно попаднах на същата личност на един площад, разхождаща се с друга личност, която може да му е била колкото приятел или колега, толкова и интимен партньор. Втората личност предложи съвет на първата относно връхната му дреха, който беше безпристрастен и непредизвикан от патриархални представи за мъжественост в облеклото.
February 20, 2012
Pearls before a swine? Perhaps.
It definitely takes a lot of talent for someone to tell one completely unremarkable story 99 times and still make a fun and readable book out of it. What Queneau (and the translator) has done here is really clever work, no doubt. And I can imagine this whole exercise must have been very amusing for him. But that doesn't mean reading it will be just as enjoyable as writing it was.**
These are exercises in writing in English (originally French). I do have some working knowledge of English, but nowhere enough to understand the nuances of the language. I actually had to look up some of the chapter titles in the dictionary, most of which were technical terms related to linguistics and grammar. Being illiterate in literary matters, I may not always be able to appreciate writing proficiency. I read for fun, not for 99 exercises in reading!
People who have a better eye for word play, will probably enjoy this book better.
My rating for this book kept fluctuating throughout. There are some chapters for which I will easily give solid five stars. But then there are others which seem entirely nonsensical and impractical. No one will ever use them for any real writing. Also, writing style needs to be suitable to the content. Some of the styles seem forced. Then there a bunch of chapters which were perhaps added just to bring the number to 99.
- Add/remove a sound to/from beginning/middle/end of each word
- permutations of nth alphabets/words
These already make more than 10 chapters.
Another clever thing Queneau did was to keep the chapters very short. Otherwise I would have skipped many of them after reading only a few sentences to figure out the style.
In case anyone is wondering what the story is, here it is, in Interjections style:
"Psst! h'm! ah! oh! hem! ah! ha! hey! well! oh! pooh! poof! ow! oo! ouch! hey! eh! h'm! pffft!
Well! hey! pooh! oh! h'm! right!"
** Completely unrelated aside :
This reminds me of my visit to MoMA. One of the works of art was '10 million years', basically all the numbers from 1 to 10 million written in 10 fat books. On the artist's part, it must have taken a lot of patience and hard-work. It probably fed some sort of obsession of his. But no matter what it meant to him, to me it was just BLAH! I can be quite a lousy museum-goer.
April 8, 2019
Marvellous, playful and inventive. I was not bored at all reading the same daft story 99 times. And it made me laugh quite a few times. Also I caught myself a few times recognising the styles of both well-known writers and the novices. I think, everyone aspired to write fiction would benefit of reading it before the start. As for a reader, it is just pure intellectual pleasure.
My book was complimented by two essays. One was by Italo Calvino about Queneau; another -by Umberto Eco about this book. Both were very fascinating.
My book was complimented by two essays. One was by Italo Calvino about Queneau; another -by Umberto Eco about this book. Both were very fascinating.
June 23, 2022
Più che un libro è un vero e proprio trattato di stilistica. Una situazione semplice, in sé quasi banale, viene rivisitata secondo gli stili più disparati, a mostrare come, in narrativa, sia possibile declinare in mille modi la stessa scena. Utile per chi si approccia alla scrittura. Poco più di un testo curioso per tutti gli altri.
February 6, 2017
So, as it turns out, I've read the book in 8th grade, and found it so awesome, that I wrote down in my diary some of the story renderings.
This time around, not so much. Eventually, I grew tired and I didn't really finish the book. But I suppose that's the sad fate of re-reading old favorites...
(Loved the illustrations though!)
This time around, not so much. Eventually, I grew tired and I didn't really finish the book. But I suppose that's the sad fate of re-reading old favorites...
(Loved the illustrations though!)
June 19, 2021
Un testo breve e semplice:
”Sulla S, in un’ora di traffico. Un tipo di circa ventisei anni, cappello floscio con una cordicella al posto del nastro, collo troppo lungo, come se glielo avessero tirato. La gente scende. Il tizio in questione si arrabbia con un vicino.
Gli rimprovera di spingerlo ogni volta che passa qualcuno. Tono lamentoso, con pretese di cattiveria. Non appena vede un posto libero, vi si butta. Due ore piú tardi lo incontro alla Cour de Rome, davanti alla Gare Saint-Lazare. È con un amico che gli dice: «Dovresti far mettere un bottone in piú al soprabito». Gli fa vedere dove (alla sciancratura) e perché.”
Novantanove esercizi di riscrittura di questa scenetta.
Novantanove variazioni stilistiche che vanno dalla retorica all’enigmistica, dallo spostamento di soggetti all’impreziosirsi dei vocaboli, dall’inversione dei fatti oppure l’esatto contrario di ciò che è successo e tanto altro
E perché no?
Anche in versi liberi:
”L’ autobus
pieno
il cuore
vuoto il collo lungo il nastro
a treccia
i piedi piatti
piatti e appiattiti
il posto vuoto
e l’inatteso incontro alla stazione dai mille fuochi spenti di quel cuore, di quel collo, di quel nastro, di quei piedi, di quel posto vuoto
e di quel
bottone.”
Divertente? Di più: geniale
”Sulla S, in un’ora di traffico. Un tipo di circa ventisei anni, cappello floscio con una cordicella al posto del nastro, collo troppo lungo, come se glielo avessero tirato. La gente scende. Il tizio in questione si arrabbia con un vicino.
Gli rimprovera di spingerlo ogni volta che passa qualcuno. Tono lamentoso, con pretese di cattiveria. Non appena vede un posto libero, vi si butta. Due ore piú tardi lo incontro alla Cour de Rome, davanti alla Gare Saint-Lazare. È con un amico che gli dice: «Dovresti far mettere un bottone in piú al soprabito». Gli fa vedere dove (alla sciancratura) e perché.”
Novantanove esercizi di riscrittura di questa scenetta.
Novantanove variazioni stilistiche che vanno dalla retorica all’enigmistica, dallo spostamento di soggetti all’impreziosirsi dei vocaboli, dall’inversione dei fatti oppure l’esatto contrario di ciò che è successo e tanto altro
E perché no?
Anche in versi liberi:
”L’ autobus
pieno
il cuore
vuoto il collo lungo il nastro
a treccia
i piedi piatti
piatti e appiattiti
il posto vuoto
e l’inatteso incontro alla stazione dai mille fuochi spenti di quel cuore, di quel collo, di quel nastro, di quei piedi, di quel posto vuoto
e di quel
bottone.”
Divertente? Di più: geniale
December 27, 2016
Ενα εξαιρετικά πρωτότυπο ανάγνωσμα όπου ο συγγραφέας χρησιμοποιεί 99 διαφορετικούς τρόπους να εκφράσει μια ανούσια μικρή ιστορία. Μπορεί κανείς να το διαβάσει σε 10 διαφορετικά μέρη, σαλόνι, κουζίνα, αναγνωστήριο, τουαλέτα κλπ. καθώς και με άπειρους τρόπους ανάσκελα, καθιστά, όρθια, τρέχοντας, περπατώντας κλπ. Πολύ ενδιαφέρον αν κάποιος σκέφτεται να ξεκινήσει τη συγγραφή βιβλίου ή να κάνει καριέρα στην πολιτική. Εν κατακλείδι το ξεκίνησα με μεγάλη χαρά και ενδιαφέρον, κάπου στη μέση άρχισα να γυρνάω τις σελίδες λίγο πιο γρήγορα και στο τέλος είχα εμπαιδώσει σε άριστο βαθμό την πραγματικά παντελώς ανούσια ιστορία. Πέρα από την πλάκα αξίζει να διαβαστεί...
February 17, 2021
Mon Dieu, cóż to była za zabawa do łez!
99 ćwiczeń stylistycznych aż głowa mała.
Nie sądziłem, że język może mieć aż tyle chwytów retorycznych!
C'est très génial !
99 ćwiczeń stylistycznych aż głowa mała.
Nie sądziłem, że język może mieć aż tyle chwytów retorycznych!
C'est très génial !
September 16, 2018
2018
За втори път чета „Упражнения по стил“ на Реймон Кьоно, но този път вече си купих книгата да си я имам за вечно ползване (смеене). Вярно е, че първия път беше много по-мега смях, но сега освен на смешното обърнах още повече внимание на езиковите/стилистичните вариации. Наистина освен че е смешно, съвсем изпипано е всичко във всяко текстче – не е просто вариация според заглавието, а и самото съдържание е попроменено уместно и разнообразно. И финал си има книгата дори!
Ама какво има да коментирам аз Реймон Кьоно, след като е бил приятел на Борис Виан и Луис Бунюел (много ми се иска да видя предговора на Кьоно за „Сърца за изтръгване“) и да прочета още негови книги освен „Зази в метрото“.
Любими упражнения този път:
Удвоено, Сродни думи, Философско, Написано наопаки, Одушевено, Вкусово, Антонимично, Изопачено, Ботаническо, Кулинарно и много други.
Отново възхищение за превода – на всички, но особено на Омофоничен каламбур, Липограма и др.
БОТАНИЧЕСКО
След като пуснах корени от чакане под налятата слънчогледова пита, аз се насадих на една тиквичка край пътя. О се натъкнах на избуяла кратуна, чийто лимоненожълт плод стърчеше с увита около него лиана. Този ми ти пипон наряза като кисела краставичка някакъв репон, който му тъпчел лехите и му газел лука. Обаче за да не вади кестените от огъня, той бързо си обра крушите и цъфна в един парцел за лично ползване.
По-късно го видях на селския пазар, направен на бъзе и коприва, понеже имаше на палтото си нещо, което не беше цвете за мирисане.
УДВОЕНО
По пладне и по обед се качих и се намирах на платформата и на задната площадка в един автобус и градски рейс, пълен и претъпкан, по южната линия и от Контрес-карп към Шампере. Аз и моя милост видях и забелязах един млад мъж и зрял юноша, твърде смешен и доста комичен, с кльощав врат и тънка шия, а около шапката и покрай капелата - с въженце и канапче. След настаналата суматоха и подир настъпилата бъркотия той каза и рече със сълзлив глас и плачлив тон, че неговият съсед и близкостоящ нарочно и умишлено го бутал и блъскал, щом и колчем някой слизал или излизал. Като свърши словото си и приключ�� речта си, той се отправи и насочи към едно празно място и свободна седалка.
След два часа и подир сто и двайсет минути отново и пак го срещнах и видях на площад Ром и пред гара Сен Лазар, придружен и съпроводен от свой приятел и негов другар, който го съветваше и убеждаваше да прибави и зашие едно копче и кокалено търкалце на своята горна и връхна дреха и одежда.
*****
2017
ИЗОПАЧЕНО
„Бреме за обет. По нужната линия автобусът е пълен с кътници. Свиркам си за Шампере… За беля един младеж има прекалено дълъг брат (сякаш са го разтягали!) и мека папка с ширит. Той вдига голям сандал на съседа си, защото онзи го лъскал задочно за закачване при влизане. После завижда на едно свободно място и се катурва на него.
Следва (отново за беда!) гаргара, ама съвсем хазартна, с негов приятел, който е специалист по бельото и му дава годни завети от носа на едно попче.“
За втори път чета „Упражнения по стил“ на Реймон Кьоно, но този път вече си купих книгата да си я имам за вечно ползване (смеене). Вярно е, че първия път беше много по-мега смях, но сега освен на смешното обърнах още повече внимание на езиковите/стилистичните вариации. Наистина освен че е смешно, съвсем изпипано е всичко във всяко текстче – не е просто вариация според заглавието, а и самото съдържание е попроменено уместно и разнообразно. И финал си има книгата дори!
Ама какво има да коментирам аз Реймон Кьоно, след като е бил приятел на Борис Виан и Луис Бунюел (много ми се иска да видя предговора на Кьоно за „Сърца за изтръгване“) и да прочета още негови книги освен „Зази в метрото“.
Любими упражнения този път:
Удвоено, Сродни думи, Философско, Написано наопаки, Одушевено, Вкусово, Антонимично, Изопачено, Ботаническо, Кулинарно и много други.
Отново възхищение за превода – на всички, но особено на Омофоничен каламбур, Липограма и др.
БОТАНИЧЕСКО
След като пуснах корени от чакане под налятата слънчогледова пита, аз се насадих на една тиквичка край пътя. О се натъкнах на избуяла кратуна, чийто лимоненожълт плод стърчеше с увита около него лиана. Този ми ти пипон наряза като кисела краставичка някакъв репон, който му тъпчел лехите и му газел лука. Обаче за да не вади кестените от огъня, той бързо си обра крушите и цъфна в един парцел за лично ползване.
По-късно го видях на селския пазар, направен на бъзе и коприва, понеже имаше на палтото си нещо, което не беше цвете за мирисане.
УДВОЕНО
По пладне и по обед се качих и се намирах на платформата и на задната площадка в един автобус и градски рейс, пълен и претъпкан, по южната линия и от Контрес-карп към Шампере. Аз и моя милост видях и забелязах един млад мъж и зрял юноша, твърде смешен и доста комичен, с кльощав врат и тънка шия, а около шапката и покрай капелата - с въженце и канапче. След настаналата суматоха и подир настъпилата бъркотия той каза и рече със сълзлив глас и плачлив тон, че неговият съсед и близкостоящ нарочно и умишлено го бутал и блъскал, щом и колчем някой слизал или излизал. Като свърши словото си и приключ�� речта си, той се отправи и насочи към едно празно място и свободна седалка.
След два часа и подир сто и двайсет минути отново и пак го срещнах и видях на площад Ром и пред гара Сен Лазар, придружен и съпроводен от свой приятел и негов другар, който го съветваше и убеждаваше да прибави и зашие едно копче и кокалено търкалце на своята горна и връхна дреха и одежда.
*****
2017
ИЗОПАЧЕНО
„Бреме за обет. По нужната линия автобусът е пълен с кътници. Свиркам си за Шампере… За беля един младеж има прекалено дълъг брат (сякаш са го разтягали!) и мека папка с ширит. Той вдига голям сандал на съседа си, защото онзи го лъскал задочно за закачване при влизане. После завижда на едно свободно място и се катурва на него.
Следва (отново за беда!) гаргара, ама съвсем хазартна, с негов приятел, който е специалист по бельото и му дава годни завети от носа на едно попче.“
![Profile Image for [P].](https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/users/1486240560i/40516522._UY200_CR13,0,200,200_.jpg)
January 4, 2016
Thoughtful
My reaction to books like Raymond Queneau’s Exercises In Style is comparable to my reaction when faced with certain works of conceptual, or modern, art, such as, for example, Martin Kippenberger’s Wittgenstein. What I mean by this is that the enjoyment I derive from them is superficial, is immediate but not long-lasting; in fact, I tend to find equal or greater enjoyment in the concepts or ideas being described to me as I do in experiencing them myself.
To my mind, the most basic pre-requisite for any good novel is that once you’ve picked it up it makes you want to continue reading it. However, Exercises in Style did quite the opposite: it implored me to put it down. The preface has it that ‘[The author’s] purpose in the Exercises is, I think, a profound exploration into the possibilities of language. It is an experiment in the philosophy of language.’ A profound exploration into the possibilities of language? Come on. It’s clever at best; a Nabokov wet-dream.
Professional journalism
Raymond Queneau’s critically acclaimed novel, Exercises in Style, is like Martin Kippenberger’s Wittgentstein dancing the mazurka with Vladimir Nabokov, while trapped in a lift.
Sarcastic
Oh it is really great. Absolutely thrilling too. I cannot think of a single book that has entertained me quite as much as Exercises in Style. Didn’t bore me at all, oh no. Made me think of Kippenberger’s Wittgenstein, which is the highest compliment I can pay anything, because that shelving unit is mind-blowing. I mean, just…wow. I could stare at it for hours, while contemplating the meaning of the universe. That’s how profound a statement it is…a shelving unit, painted grey. Well, fuck me sideways. Nabokov would probably have got a huge kick out of it. I know he liked Exercises in Style. Vlad had impeccable taste. He hated Faulkner, for a start, who was obviously rubbish. Old Bill could only have dreamt of writing something with as much substance as Queneau’s novel. What is The Sound and The Fury? Complete pap, obviously. He should have written a book in 99 different styles, and then maybe he would have the same lofty reputation as the author of this masterpiece.
Auditory
[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mcZZl...]
Gay Erotica
I fondled the cover, pressing lightly with the tips of my fingers, before gently pulling the book apart until it opened wide. I entered it slowly, almost tentatively sliding inside, trying to control my breathing. As I found my rhythm, I worked my way in deeper and deeper. Metaphorical!, Raymond screamed. I quickened my pace, pushed on harder and harder. Free verse! Sweat appeared on my brow. It rolled down my face and dripped onto a page. Ah-ah-ah-asides! I was starting to think Raymond was enjoying this more than I was. I thought of Martin, that difficult German man with whom I’d once had the briefest of flings.
Tweet
@RaymondQueneau Just finished your book #shit
Poetry
O Raymond, Raymond Queneau,
I read your little book, y’know.
I wish I hadn’t bothered though.
O Raymond, Raymond Queneau!
O Raymond, Raymond Queneau,
Should’ve learned my lesson long ago,
For I’ve never been a fan of Ouilpo.
O Raymond, Raymond Quenau!
Telegraphic
RAYMOND QUENEAU STOP
Horror
I was once lost in the dark, foreboding corridors of a German art gallery. My heart beating with fear I turned a corner and there saw, not a genuine work of art, but a shelving unit…painted fog-grey. O Martin Kippenberger! What monstrous urge compelled you to create such a thing? What madness? I stumbled before the great grey beast, which loomed over me like a nightmare…and then I ran, sure that it was chasing me, and ever gaining ground.
As the years passed I put my experience in the German art gallery down to an overactive imagination. Until the night I opened Raymond Queneau’s Exercises in Style. There is was again! The grey shelving unit. O of course it wasn’t actually there on the page, but it was still there, don’t you see? The shelving unit leapt from the book and bore down on me, like an ugly old house, in which something evil lurks, something horribly reminiscent of…boredom. I tried to clap it shut, but my hands would not move; there was a resistance coming from the book itself. Suddenly a voice rang out in my room: 'You must finish it! It is a profound exploration into the possibilities of language. It is an experiment in the philosophy of language!'
Pictorial
Formal
To whom it may concern,
I am writing to you regarding my recent experience of reading Exercises in Style by Raymond Queneau. I had been promised ‘a profound exploration into the possibilities of language,’ which this product entirely failed to deliver. Therefore, I consider it my duty to compose a review of the book in question in order to highlight its many faults. In doing so I hope to warn other potential readers against making the kind of rash and ill-informed purchase that I did myself.
Yours sincerely,
[P]
Crude
This book is fucking shit.
Crude [Third person]
He thought the book was fucking shit.
My reaction to books like Raymond Queneau’s Exercises In Style is comparable to my reaction when faced with certain works of conceptual, or modern, art, such as, for example, Martin Kippenberger’s Wittgenstein. What I mean by this is that the enjoyment I derive from them is superficial, is immediate but not long-lasting; in fact, I tend to find equal or greater enjoyment in the concepts or ideas being described to me as I do in experiencing them myself.
To my mind, the most basic pre-requisite for any good novel is that once you’ve picked it up it makes you want to continue reading it. However, Exercises in Style did quite the opposite: it implored me to put it down. The preface has it that ‘[The author’s] purpose in the Exercises is, I think, a profound exploration into the possibilities of language. It is an experiment in the philosophy of language.’ A profound exploration into the possibilities of language? Come on. It’s clever at best; a Nabokov wet-dream.
Professional journalism
Raymond Queneau’s critically acclaimed novel, Exercises in Style, is like Martin Kippenberger’s Wittgentstein dancing the mazurka with Vladimir Nabokov, while trapped in a lift.
Sarcastic
Oh it is really great. Absolutely thrilling too. I cannot think of a single book that has entertained me quite as much as Exercises in Style. Didn’t bore me at all, oh no. Made me think of Kippenberger’s Wittgenstein, which is the highest compliment I can pay anything, because that shelving unit is mind-blowing. I mean, just…wow. I could stare at it for hours, while contemplating the meaning of the universe. That’s how profound a statement it is…a shelving unit, painted grey. Well, fuck me sideways. Nabokov would probably have got a huge kick out of it. I know he liked Exercises in Style. Vlad had impeccable taste. He hated Faulkner, for a start, who was obviously rubbish. Old Bill could only have dreamt of writing something with as much substance as Queneau’s novel. What is The Sound and The Fury? Complete pap, obviously. He should have written a book in 99 different styles, and then maybe he would have the same lofty reputation as the author of this masterpiece.
Auditory
[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mcZZl...]
Gay Erotica
I fondled the cover, pressing lightly with the tips of my fingers, before gently pulling the book apart until it opened wide. I entered it slowly, almost tentatively sliding inside, trying to control my breathing. As I found my rhythm, I worked my way in deeper and deeper. Metaphorical!, Raymond screamed. I quickened my pace, pushed on harder and harder. Free verse! Sweat appeared on my brow. It rolled down my face and dripped onto a page. Ah-ah-ah-asides! I was starting to think Raymond was enjoying this more than I was. I thought of Martin, that difficult German man with whom I’d once had the briefest of flings.
Tweet
@RaymondQueneau Just finished your book #shit
Poetry
O Raymond, Raymond Queneau,
I read your little book, y’know.
I wish I hadn’t bothered though.
O Raymond, Raymond Queneau!
O Raymond, Raymond Queneau,
Should’ve learned my lesson long ago,
For I’ve never been a fan of Ouilpo.
O Raymond, Raymond Quenau!
Telegraphic
RAYMOND QUENEAU STOP
Horror
I was once lost in the dark, foreboding corridors of a German art gallery. My heart beating with fear I turned a corner and there saw, not a genuine work of art, but a shelving unit…painted fog-grey. O Martin Kippenberger! What monstrous urge compelled you to create such a thing? What madness? I stumbled before the great grey beast, which loomed over me like a nightmare…and then I ran, sure that it was chasing me, and ever gaining ground.
As the years passed I put my experience in the German art gallery down to an overactive imagination. Until the night I opened Raymond Queneau’s Exercises in Style. There is was again! The grey shelving unit. O of course it wasn’t actually there on the page, but it was still there, don’t you see? The shelving unit leapt from the book and bore down on me, like an ugly old house, in which something evil lurks, something horribly reminiscent of…boredom. I tried to clap it shut, but my hands would not move; there was a resistance coming from the book itself. Suddenly a voice rang out in my room: 'You must finish it! It is a profound exploration into the possibilities of language. It is an experiment in the philosophy of language!'
Pictorial
Formal
To whom it may concern,
I am writing to you regarding my recent experience of reading Exercises in Style by Raymond Queneau. I had been promised ‘a profound exploration into the possibilities of language,’ which this product entirely failed to deliver. Therefore, I consider it my duty to compose a review of the book in question in order to highlight its many faults. In doing so I hope to warn other potential readers against making the kind of rash and ill-informed purchase that I did myself.
Yours sincerely,
[P]
Crude
This book is fucking shit.
Crude [Third person]
He thought the book was fucking shit.
September 13, 2015
(reread 09/13/15) The English translation better be good, because this? This is brilliant.
"Il y avait aujourd'hui dans l'autobus à côté de moi, sur la plate-forme, un de ces morveux comme on n'en fait guère, heureusement, sans ça je finirais par en tuer un."
PS. I would love to write my review as Raymond Queneau, that is to say, using several literacy techniques to relate the same story over and over and over again, but let's face it : my English needs improvement before.
April 8, 2022
Uno dei libri più geniali e divertenti che io abbia mai letto! Chapeau a Eco per la traduzione.
Read
December 22, 2020Un marathonien de style.
" Dans I'S, à une heure d'affluence .
Un type dans le vingt-six ans ,chapeau mou, avec cordon remplaçant le ruban, cou trop long, comme si on lui avait tiré dessus. Les gens descendent. Le type en question s'irrite contre un voisin. Il lui reproche de le bousculer chaque fois qu'il passe quelqu'un. Ton pleurnichard qui se veut mechant. Comme il voit une place libre, se précipite dessus. Deux heures plus tard, je le rencontre Cour de Rome, devant la gare Saint Lazare. Il est avec un camarade qui lui dit :
- Tu devrais faire mettre un bouton supplémentaire à ton pardessus. Il lui montre où ( à l'échancrure ) et pourquoi. "
Imaginez ce texte, répété 99 fois,
sous 99 formes ...Le lecteur doit être un maniaque du langage, ou avoir une patience d'éléphant :)
Heureusement, je rentre dans
cette catégorie, et ma patience est illimitée, lorsqu'il s'agit d'expériences linguistiques uniques..
Ce que fait Queneau dans ce manuel linguistique peut plaire à un large éventail de lecteurs, mais il peut être incompréhensible pour un lecteur inhabituel avec l'étude de néant, parce que enfin,ce qui reste c'est ça - l'analyse du banale faite sous plusieurs angles, qui peut être comprise par chacun,à sa manière.
À un moment donné, j'ai eu l'impression de regarder un film de Hitchcock, dans lequel des détails insignifiants détiennent la clé de la compréhension par ensemble.
"Exercises de style" - conduit à l'idée que, si tout a déjà été dit, les écrivains n'ont qu'à montrer comment le langage gouverne l'homme.
Je pense que l'époque de temps est également essentiel, pour comprendre la démarche de Queneau.
L'impression,ici, est en fait, le contenu,à savoir l'idée qu'un événement peut être joué sous différents angles,et cette perspective construit réellement l'événement. Un jeu des narrateurs qui se constitue dans un multilinguisme poussé à l'extrême.
Ce livre a l'inconvénient d'être difficile à traduire, car il s'agit d'expériences auxquelles la langue française est soumise.L'equivalence est aussi difficile, lorsque l'action n'a pas d'importance, la réception se fait inévitablement par la connotation des mots dans la langue dans laquelle elle est traduite.
Bien qu'ils ne soient pas une tentative de démolir la littérature,les exercises de style peuvent être considérés comme des moments d'une époque dans lequel la fiction il s'est fatigué, ou, peut-être, ils ont repris le mirage de la fiction, dans ce cas.
Pour moi, le mécanisme fonctionnait parfaitement,chaque variation du sujet étant pour moi un nouveau livre.
" Dans I'S, à une heure d'affluence .
Un type dans le vingt-six ans ,chapeau mou, avec cordon remplaçant le ruban, cou trop long, comme si on lui avait tiré dessus. Les gens descendent. Le type en question s'irrite contre un voisin. Il lui reproche de le bousculer chaque fois qu'il passe quelqu'un. Ton pleurnichard qui se veut mechant. Comme il voit une place libre, se précipite dessus. Deux heures plus tard, je le rencontre Cour de Rome, devant la gare Saint Lazare. Il est avec un camarade qui lui dit :
- Tu devrais faire mettre un bouton supplémentaire à ton pardessus. Il lui montre où ( à l'échancrure ) et pourquoi. "
Imaginez ce texte, répété 99 fois,
sous 99 formes ...Le lecteur doit être un maniaque du langage, ou avoir une patience d'éléphant :)
Heureusement, je rentre dans
cette catégorie, et ma patience est illimitée, lorsqu'il s'agit d'expériences linguistiques uniques..
Ce que fait Queneau dans ce manuel linguistique peut plaire à un large éventail de lecteurs, mais il peut être incompréhensible pour un lecteur inhabituel avec l'étude de néant, parce que enfin,ce qui reste c'est ça - l'analyse du banale faite sous plusieurs angles, qui peut être comprise par chacun,à sa manière.
À un moment donné, j'ai eu l'impression de regarder un film de Hitchcock, dans lequel des détails insignifiants détiennent la clé de la compréhension par ensemble.
"Exercises de style" - conduit à l'idée que, si tout a déjà été dit, les écrivains n'ont qu'à montrer comment le langage gouverne l'homme.
Je pense que l'époque de temps est également essentiel, pour comprendre la démarche de Queneau.
L'impression,ici, est en fait, le contenu,à savoir l'idée qu'un événement peut être joué sous différents angles,et cette perspective construit réellement l'événement. Un jeu des narrateurs qui se constitue dans un multilinguisme poussé à l'extrême.
Ce livre a l'inconvénient d'être difficile à traduire, car il s'agit d'expériences auxquelles la langue française est soumise.L'equivalence est aussi difficile, lorsque l'action n'a pas d'importance, la réception se fait inévitablement par la connotation des mots dans la langue dans laquelle elle est traduite.
Bien qu'ils ne soient pas une tentative de démolir la littérature,les exercises de style peuvent être considérés comme des moments d'une époque dans lequel la fiction il s'est fatigué, ou, peut-être, ils ont repris le mirage de la fiction, dans ce cas.
Pour moi, le mécanisme fonctionnait parfaitement,chaque variation du sujet étant pour moi un nouveau livre.
June 19, 2017
Ουτε ένας ουτε δύο ουτε τρείς αλλα 99 τρόποι για να πεις μια οχι ενδιαφέρουσα, οχι ιδιαίτερη αλλα καθημερινή ιστορία που βρίθει οχι απο λύπη, στεναχώρια, δέος αλλα απο έξυπνο, αβίαστο, εκλεπτυσμένο χιούμορ.
(Μόλις χρησιμοποίησα τον ένα απο τους 99 τρόπους για την κριτική αυτού του απολαυστικού διαμαντιού που μας αποκαλύπτει την δύναμη που έχει η γλώσσα.)
(Μόλις χρησιμοποίησα τον ένα απο τους 99 τρόπους για την κριτική αυτού του απολαυστικού διαμαντιού που μας αποκαλύπτει την δύναμη που έχει η γλώσσα.)
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