Volume 55, Number 19 · December 4, 2008
Luminous Memoir of a Lost World
By John Banville
The Snows of Yesteryear (1989) by Gregor von Rezzori is a masterpiece in that rare genre that might be classed as incidental autobiography.[*] The story the book has to tell, of the formation of a soul and a sensibility, is slyly concealed within the interstices of a set of other stories, other lives, other pasts. In its method, which seems not a method at all, it resembles those other two great magically dissembling memoirs of the twentieth century, Vladimir Nabokov's Speak, Memory (1966) and Harold Nicolson's Some People (1927). Rezzori's style is less beadily precious and certainly less prolix than Nabokov's, and his psychological insights run deeper than Nicolson's, but all three writers share the same poise and elegance, the same dryly critical eye, and, delightfully, the same faintly absurdist wit. As Rezzori writes:
Feature, 1899 words
To read the full text of this piece, please choose one of the following options:
|
If you are already a subscriber to the Review's electronic edition, please sign in: |
To subscribe to the electronic edition, please press the button below. |
To purchase access to this article for $3, please press the button below. |