Unsurprisingly, this is a dark and strange book.

The internet reveals that Nabokov held this novel in the highest esteem among all his works, with Lolita being his favorite apparently.

Nabokov constructs a bizarre and irrational world for ITAB, and the entire narrative feels dreamlike. Set in a fortress that could easily have been designed by Escher, it has been compared to Kafka's The Castle and The Trial. However, the internet also states that Nabokov refuted any influence from Kafka, claiming that he had not yet learned German and thus had not read Kafka when writing ITAB. So, who really knows?

At the beginning of the book, the main character, Cincinnatus C, is sentenced to death by beheading on charges of 'gnostical turpitude', whatever that may be! We follow him to his incarceration in the fortress, where we encounter a host of absurd and maddeningly bizarre characters, which are undoubtedly the book's standout feature.

Cincinnatus' main torment throughout most of the book is the uncertainty of when the execution will occur, which, as one can imagine, causes him great anxiety. I believe Nabokov's message here is that none of us, except the unfortunate few, know when we will die, making us contemplate the implications of our own mortality. Additionally, the absurd, dreamlike quality of the book may point to the delirium that knowing one is about to be executed must induce.

Cincinnatus is also tortured by the other characters' absurd behavior. They innocently mock him, calling him names like 'blockhead'. One of the prison warden's main concerns is C's wellbeing, which, as you can imagine, seems rather irrelevant to C, knowing that they will eventually cut off his head.

Nabokov poses the question in the book: "In this world, is there any kind of security at all?" And I think this is the essence of the book... the world is crazy, and we can never truly feel secure in it.

Ripeto: c'è una cosa che io so, c'è una cosa che io so, c'è una cosa...

\\"Ripeto: c'è una cosa che io so, c'è una cosa che io so, c'è una cosa...\\"


Probabilmente ti scambio con qualcun altro, dopotutto, quando penso che tu mi possa capire, così come un pazzo scambia i parenti che sono andati a fargli visita per galassie, logaritmi, iene dalle corte zampe posteriori. Ma ci sono anche pazzi - e quelli sono invulnerabili - che scambiano se stessi per pazzi, e qui il cerchio si chiude.

Questo modo di vedere la realtà è profondamente sconvolgente. È come se tutto ciò che sembra normale e logico fosse in realtà una sorta di illusione.

Tutto mi ha tratto in inganno poiché tutto quadra, tutto. [...] Così si crea la matematica; ha insito un difetto fatale. Io l'ho scoperto. Ho scoperto la piccola incrinatura nella vita, il punto in cui si spezza là dove una volta era stata saldata a qualcos'altro, a qualche cosa di genuinamente vivo, significativo, straordinariamente vasto.

Questa scoperta mette in discussione tutta la nostra comprensione del mondo intorno a noi. Forse la realtà non è affatto ciò che sembra.


A volte - poche -, si preferirebbe non vedere quanta (e quale) realtà abbia potuto stillare la testa mozzata di Nabokov.

Tuttavia, nonostante tutto, è importante affrontare la realtà, anche se è dolorosa. Il più delle volte non si vorrebbe altro.

Solo così possiamo sperare di capire il mondo e trovare il nostro posto in esso.

We open the story as Cincinnatus is condemned to death and is brought, weak-kneed, to his prison cell. He looks around, taking in the drab surroundings. It takes a moment for me to realize that when he engages in a waltz with the guard, I'm not meant to accept this at face value as an actual occurrence. Cincinnatus, who is both respected and criticized by these guards, spends his final days in a state of flux between reality and fantasy. He cranes his neck to see outside the prison fortress, desperate to catch a glimpse of and embrace his comically unfaithful wife. He reads voraciously, but is unable to write as he doesn't know the date of his execution and thus doesn't know how much time he has left. Alas, how is he to manage in this situation? Could there be a Soviet commentary hidden within?

I'm truly enjoying working my way through Nabokov's novels, even though I'm behind my planned schedule. This particular work stands out as the best and most beautiful one I've read so far, and it's definitely one of my favorite books of the year. Nabokov masterfully plays with the fabric of reality while barely leaving the confines of a prison cell within a fortress, and it works splendidly.

-----------------------------------------------

56. Invitation to a Beheading by Vladimir Vladimirovich
translation: 1959 from Russian by Dmitri Nabokov with the author
published: 1936
format: 223-page Vintage paperback
acquired: June
read: Nov 14 - 19
time reading: 6 hr 41 min, 1.8 min/page
rating: 5
locations: unspecified prison
about the author: 1899 – 1977. Russia born, educated at Trinity College in Cambridge, 1922. Lived in Berlin (1922 - 1937), Paris, the US (1941 - 1961) and Montreux, Switzerland (1961 - 1977).

**The Light at the End of the Cave**

It is not hard to understand why Nabokov was accused of plagiarism when *Invitation to a Beheading* was first published. At a cursory glance and a very superficial initial reading (or, to be fair, in Eco's terms, at a first-level reading), it确实与*The Trial* is eerily similar, both in the plot construction, the main character's attitude, and the theme.

However, there are numerous differences that prevent the book from being a mere sequel of Kafka's novel and instead place it on the general shelf of masterpieces with common themes - the alienation and absurdity of existence. The author's claim that he was not familiar with Kafka's works at the time seems quite plausible.

On the one hand, while K.'s drama stems from an accusation that he is informed of but never told what it is, Cincinnatus knows exactly what crime he is accused of: "the gnostic turpitude" of being opaque in a transparent world, real in a dream, solid among shades - that is, different. He states, "I am here through an error - not in this prison specifically - but in this whole, terrible, striped world; a world which seems not a bad example of amateur craftsmanship, but is in reality calamity, horror, madness, error - and look, the curio slays the tourist, the gigantic carved bear brings its wooden mallet down upon me." Therefore, while K. is singularized only by his unknown crime, Cincinnatus is unique from the start; a stranger among strangers, and this is why he will stand tall when the world crumbles around him, whereas K. dies "like a dog", killed by his own kin.

On the other hand, while *The Trial* satirizes bureaucracy and was seen as a grim premonition of the Holocaust, *Invitation to a Beheading*, although it can be read as a satire against totalitarianism, is more than that: it is a journey towards knowledge. Cincinnatus grows tired of watching the shadows on the walls and longs to discover who and what generated them. He says, "It exists, my dream world, it must exist since sure there must be an original of the clumsy copy."
The book mainly describes the struggle within the hero (using the motif of the Romantic double), between the survival instinct that pushes him to act normally, integrate, and mimic others in order to remain forever chained in the apparent world, and the call for knowledge that lures him out of the cage. He involuntarily yields to the temptation of logical development, forging into a chain all the things that were harmless as long as they remained unlinked, inspiring the meaningless with meaning and the lifeless with life.
It is a world where even "Socrates must decrease", perhaps not real but no less oppressive, since everyone is a dummy, since the whole of life is painted on a cardboard, a world where appearance is taken for essence and the shadows claim to be the solid reality, denying any universe outside the cave. It is a world of imitations, whose theatrical falsity is depicted in that specific, unmistakable Russian way, with big gestures and highfalutin words and pitiful meaninglessness, a world that collapses into itself the moment the hero leaves it, in a final image that is strangely distressing and triumphant at the same time.
So many challenging questions arise: Is literature, in the Platonic sense, a second-hand reality, an imitation of an imitation? Is Cincinnatus the artist who struggles to give life to his work only to be imprisoned and almost destroyed by it? Or, on the contrary, is art the only reality and life a mere imitation from which the hero frees himself?
These are all thought-provoking questions, but in the end, who really cares about the answers anyway? As long as masterpieces like this one continue to emerge.

Gallows humor in an actual gallows meets bursts of gorgeous, overflowing surrealist prose.

It's a unique combination that immediately catches the reader's attention. I wasn't nearly as awestruck as I was by Lolita or Pale Fire. After all, it's translated from Russian, and it's difficult to imagine that a writer as enthralled by linguistic possibility as Nabokov isn't going to lose quite a bit in translation.

However, despite these limitations, it's still Nabokov, and that means it's still better than anything I could ever write. The beauty and complexity of his language shine through, even in translation.

Moreover, this work is a definite, early precursor of great things to come. It shows the seeds of Nabokov's genius and hints at the masterpieces that he would go on to create. It's a fascinating read that offers a glimpse into the mind of one of the greatest writers of the 20th century.

Overall, while it may not be Nabokov's greatest work, it's still a valuable addition to his oeuvre and a must-read for any fan of his writing.

Strange as it may seem, when I say that this short, tragic book felt to me like a gulp of pure air?

I had never read anything like it before - in terms of style, form, idea, execution. So much in one place…

Nabokov keeps us for twenty days in a yellow room where Cincinnatus awaits his execution. He leaves us to observe and listen to his thoughts, how he wants to do something meaningful before it all ends, how he doesn't want to start anything because what will happen if suddenly they tell him it's time and he is forced to leave it unfinished? This thing is pure and simple - to express himself.

“… no, no desires except the desire to express himself - a punch in the whole world's stupidity.”

Often in his monotonous gray daily life, several comic characters intrude, bringing chaos, confusion, boredom, while the dark and surreal background created by Nabokov hangs like a thick curtain, behind which the answers to some of our questions are hidden.

I love the classics. They always leave me in a kind of trance from which it takes me time to wake up. Quality literature that you can always trust when you need something true.

And the story of Cincinnatus is something I had not encountered before and I doubt I will encounter again in the near future. I read the first pages slowly, here and there I reread some things to better understand their meaning and also to get used to the author's style, and once that happened, I continued to reread certain paragraphs out of pure pleasure.

The quality translation by Penka Kuneva is more than wonderful! Admiration!

“… I shed layer after layer of myself and most tenderly… not knowing how to describe it, but knowing this: I reach the path of gradual dismemberment to the last, indissoluble, hard, shining point and this point utters: I am!”

This grotesque novel, full of absurd dialogues and which sometimes reminds one of a stage play, tells of the last 20 days in the life of the doomed Cincinnatus C, who awaits his destruction. Cap, off with his head. Why he is sentenced to death is not entirely clear to him or to us. But it is clear to us that something is "not right" with him. Or perhaps not right with the world in which he finds himself? Cincinnatus is different from the other characters, freer in his thinking, more normal by our standards, but not by the standards of others.

A postmodernist novel should be read and understood on multiple levels, but here in some chapters it happened that I did not understand it on any level. Nevertheless, most of "Invitation to a Beheading" is entertaining and a pleasure to read. The characters are rather one-dimensional caricatures that express themselves simply and directly, and yet these dialogues are very witty and contribute to the atmosphere and message.

In its Nabokovian versatility (and the very description of the execution is at times funny, at times dramatic and sad), it happens that we forget that there is a man here who awaits a violent death and is aware of it: "I know one more main, the main thing, which no one here knows - look, dolls, how I'm afraid, how everything trembles and writhes and rushes inside me - and now they'll come for me, and I'm not ready, and how ashamed I am...". Cincinnatus wants to preserve his mental freedom but fails. If only he knew when the sentence would be carried out, he could think, write better and more calmly, start some project. They don't give him that, they don't tell him how much time he has left and that torments him the most.

This is the last Russian novel that Nabokov published before leaving for America (later there was also "The Gift"). It was written in 1934 as an anti-utopian novel during the rise of Nazism and Stalinism, but it can also be seen as a timeless look at the fate of a man in a society that does not understand him - and as a critique of society as such.

Sin-Senatus has been imprisoned for an unknown crime in a dark, numbing, and terrifying prison, and his sentence is death by hanging. He is in a strange, lonely, and abandoned state. Even his closest people, such as his mother and wife, do not approach him as they should. In a short meeting with his mother, it is revealed that he is the result of an illegal relationship, and even his father's identity is unknown. His mother is cold and emotionless in the face of her son's death sentence. She does not shed tears. On the other hand, Sin-Senatus has a wife who is his only motivation and preoccupation in prison. However, this wife has never done anything good for him and has always betrayed him. These betrayals, as revealed in the story, start from the very beginning of their acquaintance and gradually become blatant and shameless. To the extent that the woman engages in passionate relationships with different lovers in the presence of Sin-Senatus and even sleeps with them. The result of these affairs is also two children whose father cannot be identified. With all this, the only connection that the strange Sin-Senatus has with this world strangely returns to this heartless and traitorous woman.

Besides the various dark days that Sin-Senatus endures, the central theme of the narrative is the fear of death and the uncertainty that the protagonist experiences due to the unknown time of his execution. In other words, after the death sentence is announced and Sin-Senatus realizes that his death is certain, he tries every possible way to obtain information about the exact time of this event. For this purpose, he asks for help from the guards, the warden, the lawyer, and the prison director, but no one answers him. Everyone evades answering in some way. The general behavior of the prison inmates is also very cruel and tormenting. They not only do not comply with Sin-Senatus's request to announce the day of his death but also play tricks on him and thus double his suffering. They send someone to his cell under the pretext of being a prisoner to get closer to him and create a friendship between them. Once or twice, through this acquaintance, they promise him freedom and immerse him in false hopes and illusions. But after a while, it becomes clear that the promises were empty, and the one who pretended to be his friend is actually the executioner who will hang him and take his life. In this way, almost all of Sin-Senatus's hopes are dashed. But this is not the end of his troubles. The prison workers announce a day for the execution of the hanging to him, and Sin-Senatus seemingly gets what he wants. He prepares himself for death and spends several days with nightmares and restlessness. However, even in this bitter promise, they are unfaithful. The execution ceremony is cancelled on that day for unfounded reasons. Sin-Senatus falls back into the clutches of anxiety, and just when he thinks that his execution will not be carried out for a long time, they suddenly come for him without warning, take him away, and hang him.

Some people have considered this novel as a symbol and said that it is written in protest against a society that wants to make all its members uniform and does not recognize differences and individual desires. However, I do not think this interpretation is very accurate. In my opinion, the main idea of this story is about death and the unknown time of it and the horror and anxiety that a person experiences because of it. The helplessness of a human in the face of this phenomenon, as well as the absurdities of this worldly life and the pain of living with unpleasant people, are well depicted in this work. In addition, the thought-provoking point that can be learned from the actions of Sin-Senatus in this story is how painful and difficult it is to endure life, no matter how unpleasant and painful it may be.

The story has an interesting inner core, but the way it is presented with a slow and jerky narrative is not at all interesting. The almost inconsistent translation has also contributed to this. In other words, the story has problems both in terms of narration and translation and language. These two flaws have made the work difficult to read.

Another point that is not worth mentioning is the similarity that the bitter and nightmarish space of this story has with two works: one is "The Stranger" by Albert Camus and the other is "The Trial" by Franz Kafka. On the one hand, the isolation of the protagonist in a closed environment with a bug in the corner of the room brings to mind a Kafkaesque space to some extent, and on the other hand, the idea of death and the death sentence reminds one of the hero of Camus's novel. From this point of view, it is worth conducting a comparative study between these stories.

Some readable parts of the story:

- For a condemned man, the presence of a woman, the delicious body of a woman, is always more difficult. (141)

- [...] I know that death is actually not at all terrifying. Anxiety is harmless. Perhaps for the soul, it is also a strong healer; the fading habits of childhood or a stubborn self-defense against the surrender of a toy. And sometimes in those stores [...] there were people who were happy to escape death, and although they had mostly been cowardly, they were still, in their own special way, in control and calm. And although I know all this and the greatest thing that no one here knows, yet, look at you people, how much I am afraid; how everything trembles and escapes and attacks inside me... and right now they are coming to take me away, and I am not ready. I am ashamed... (182)

Bibliography: Invitation to the Hanging Ceremony, Vladimir Nabokov, translated by Ahmad Khazaei, Part 1, Tehran: Qatrah, 1991.

Once I was sitting in a coffee shop. There were several young men and women at the table across from me. They were talking about this topic that they didn't want to be political prisoners and go to prison.

Their discussion was about a special feeling and difference.

The hero of the story, Cin Cinatus, is gentle and the context is like this. From the very first moment, I try to show that my difference was better. I was like that, while at no time

the reason for his conviction is unknown.

This can also be seen in the buffoonery and satire of the main character in the story.

The narrator of the buffoonery also has the feeling of being chosen and worthy of embracing the female prisoner, but his insincerity and ordinariness cause the woman's death.

Here too, Cin Cinatus plays the game in several stages and hopes for certain things and people.

First, the daughter of the prison director.

Second, the sound of digging and tapping from the wall of the cell.

Third, the hope that the world is fake.

I'm not sure about this, of course.

Fourth, the desire to leave something for future generations and the continuation of life in the minds of future generations.

Cin Cinatus tries to make himself beautiful with these thoughts

and get rid of the insignificance and meaninglessness.

But another problem is the duality of the character, which is also mentioned on pages 37, 50, and... in the story.

For Cin Cinatus, a shadow and a companion are drawn who continues to live with him.

As I remember, Zarathustra said.

In this regard, the duality of Cin Cinatus, which is also mentioned in the last pages (207/), is the famous duality of body and soul.

Cin Cinatus himself is lost in things that have nothing to do with life and has overlooked the importance of the present and life, whether in his cell or in his personal life. When

he looks at the multiple betrayals of his wife as an unimportant matter and shows no reaction.

And on the other hand, this duality shows a part

of him is looking for these thoughts to be able to siphon off the layers of fears one by one until he reaches the last fear

the real fear of people is death.

Of course, according to the interpretation of the end of the story, he is almost successful, whether we know it as a fantasy for escape or a guise in the coming of the laws of a totalitarian society.

I'm plowing through these Nabokov works at such a rapid pace that I really need to jot down my thoughts before they all merge into one big, gooey mess of brain mush. I'm quickly reaching the stage where I'm like, "That's the one with the Russian émigré, right?" This old gray matter just isn't what it used to be. So...

This novel, while enjoyable in its own way, but in my humble opinion, lacks substance and doesn't really do much for me. Sure, it's a delight to see VVN assume a new guise and venture into the realm of surrealist literature for a change, but the execution left me rather indifferent. As much as I might admire him, I have to admit that not every move he makes is a brilliant stroke just because of his name. You know what the book is about—if not, you can read the concise summary provided by the Amazonians above (or, well, just look at the title). Even better, seek out the excellent reviews by my betters, Anthony Vacca and Darwin8U. Both of these Nabokov aficionados are far more erudite and knowledgeable than this simple pilgrim.

As for my own take: the dystopian-like antics in "Invitation to a Beheading" are a touch too absurd for my taste. Absurdity, when done masterfully, is the most sublime form of art and humor for me, but here it just feels half-hearted. Famously written by Nabokov in just two weeks, the strings of his bewigged and powdered authority puppets (complete with removable beards!) are so threadbare that they verge on pastiche. Walls vanish, spiders are mentioned frequently, there's a little nymphet with a ball (you thought there wouldn't be?), and so on. There's a cryptic subtext about duality that I, quite frankly, couldn't care less about. It's the kind of thing that immediately makes you think of Terry Gilliam. All in all, it's often compared to Kafka for good reason, although Nabokov claims he'd never read him before writing this book. This just goes to prove Cody's Personal Axiom #3678: two people can come up with the same bad idea simultaneously.

For those keeping track at home: this is my lowest-ranked and least favorite of the Russian novels so far. But don't worry, the next three were all fantastic!

I find it extremely difficult to believe Nabokov when, in the preface to Invitation to a Beheading, he firmly insists that he had no knowledge of Kafka when he penned this book.

This novel echoes The Trial not only in its plot and themes but also in the similarity of the protagonists' names. Even the opening sentence seems to be a form of homage. Consider:

"Someone must have been spreading slander about Josef K., for one morning he was arrested, though he had done nothing wrong."
- Kafka, The Trial.

"In accordance with the law the death sentence was announced to Cincinnatus C. in a whisper."
- Nabokov, Invitation to a Beheading

Come on, Vladimir, who are you attempting to deceive?

Although these similarities do invite comparison, I can understand his frustration with the simplistic, reductionist use of the "Kafkaesque" label. Simply equating the two novels would indeed be a mistake: Invitation to a Beheading is a very different novel from The Trial. In my opinion, it is a better novel (even though I am a well-known detractor of Kafka's).

To start with, Nabokov's prose is far more enjoyable to read. The surreal and absurd elements are more imaginative and entertaining. Most importantly, Invitation to a Beheading continuously develops its ideas as it progresses, rather than simply trapping itself and the reader in a cycle of repeated frustration for one hundred and fifty pages.

Nabokov's novel also delves deeply into frustration, but his meaning and implication are broader than Kafka's. Invitation to a Beheading is not about the restrictions imposed by the state but those that we internalize and accept within our own lives. We are all, in fact, sentenced to live this absurd life, awaiting our own execution, and it is up to us to recognize our jailers.

I am gradually coming back around to Nabokov after the lingering disappointment of Bend Sinister, which I read almost two years ago. However, in terms of quality, Invitation to a Beheading is definitely closer to Pnin and Pale Fire than it is to that book. I think it is one of his best.

Ako Nabokova volite, Poziv na pogubljenje će vam osnažiti ljubav. Ako vas Nabokov nervira (sumnjam da iko Nabokova baš mrzi), ovde se možete podsetiti zašto vas nervira. I ako se premećete od jedne do druge krajnosti – od savršenstva Dara do bespotrebnosti Lužinove odbrane – očekuje vas premetanje. Doduše, mnogo više na dobru stranu.

Nabokov – ko Nabokov: izvodi trikove, postavlja zamke i manipuliše bolje od svih drugih, pa nemate kud nego da coknete ’ajd’, dobro i da mu oprostite, čak i kad pokuša da vam proda fazon ukradenog nosa na koji ste prestali da nasedate sa navršene dve godine, jer znate da će vas već u sledećem redu ražalovati poetičnošću ili preneraziti bizarom.

Spremna sam da razumem najrazličitija tumačenja alegorije zatvora u kome je Cincinat (čak do apologije pisanju), ali zaista ne vidim potrebu piščevog pravdanja da Zamak nije čitao, jer uzbudljivijim od njegovog kafkijanstva (i gogoljstva) nalazim rebuse kojim je minirao tekst, poput imena našeg gnoseološkog gnusobnika, ili onog nedovršenog žitija tristogodišnjeg Quercusa, ili onog pepita koje se pod lupom suze pretvara u cicero (za ovo poslednje mi nije pomogao ni ruski izvor, ni engleski prevod Dimitrija Nabokova rađen pod očevim nadzorom, ni hrvatski, ni dva srpska prevoda!).

Naravno da neću propustiti isticanje erotičnost i svoju sreću što se pisac ovoga puta suzdržao od njenog srozavanja na jeftinu pornografiju. Iako je ona ovde tek u nekom daljem planu, epizodna, pa sva suptilna, zapravo je sirovija nego u Loliti: žmarci su me podilazili svaki put kad se Emicina lopta dokotrljala na scenu. A ono sa Marfenjkom, kanibalkom, koju prijap hrani… breskvom!

Nabokov – ko Nabokov: dobar je i može šta hoće, kad hoće. He is a master of literary tricks, creating complex puzzles and manipulating the reader's emotions with great skill. His works are a source of both delight and frustration, as he constantly challenges our expectations and forces us to think in new ways. Whether you love him or hate him, there is no denying the power and influence of Nabokov's writing.