اتحادیه ابلهان
بنده هر چیزی در این کتاب مشاهده کردم به جز علائمی از یک شاهکار! اون به‌به و چه‌چه ابتدای کتاب بزرگترین عاملی هست که انسان تصور کنه با یک شاهکار طرفه ��ما به نظرم باید حق رو به ناشرانی داد که دست رد به سینه‌ی چاپ این کتاب زدند هرچند از خودکشی و ناامیدی نویسنده متأسفم اما دنیا همینه. به نظرم ناشری که پس از مرگ نویسنده کتاب رو چاپ کرده روی احساسات انسانی و اتمسفر جمعی (جو زدگی) حساب کرده برای فروش و احتمالاً موفق هم شده. به قول منتقد بزرگ سینما (زارت) آقای فراستی این کتاب در نیومده، مقواست. یک سری اتفاق که جالب نیست با یک سری دیالوگ بی سر و ته خسته کننده! به نظرم تنها نکته‌ی مثبت کتاب شخصیت پردازی دقیق نویسنده از کاراکتر اصلی کتاب، ایگنشس باشه. و این چند جمله خلاصه‌ی کتاب رو مینویسم که اگر بعداً این ریویو رو خوندم مجبور نباشم دوباره به کتاب مراجعه کنم:

(حاوی اسپویل)
ایگنشس یک مرد گنده‌ی تنبله با مدرک تحصیلی و بیکار و علاف و جامعه گریز که با مادرش زندگی می‌کنه. در ابتدای داستان در خیابان منتظر مادرش هست که مامور پلیسی بهش مشکوک میشه، پیرمردی به پشتیبانی از ایگنشس به پلیس توهین می‌کنه و در همین حال وقتی مادر ایگنشس میاد همه چیز رو تقصیر پیرمرد میندازه و با پسرش از مهلکه فرار می‌کنه. این دو نفر، پلیس و پیرمرد تا آخر داستان همراه ما هستند. ایگنشس و مادرش به یک بار میرن، اونجا هم با صاحب بار و کارمند و رقصنده‌ی بار آشنا میشیم و پسرکی که تجارت مشکوکی با صاحب بار داره. از طرفی وقتی پیرمرد ابتدای داستان به کلانتری برده میشه اونجا با یک سیاهپوست آشنا میشه و به این ترتیب سیاه‌پوست هم وارد ماجرا میشه. در هنگام خروج از بار مادر ایگنشس مست بوده و میزنه به تیر برق و بالکن یک خونه رو خراب می‌کنه همین باعث میشه از نظر مالی به مشکل بخورن و ایگنشس مردم گریز رو به دنبال شغل بفرسته. مرد سیاهپوست هم از طرف پلیس به بار مذکور برای کار میره. اولین شغل ایگنشس در کارخانه لوی هست که اونجا با ارسال یک نامه‌ی توهین آمیز به یک مشتری کار رو شروع و با تحریک کارگران به اعتصاب کار رو تموم می‌کنه. شغل بعدی هم هات‌داگ فروشی است که اونجا هم اکثرش رو خودش میخوره. نامه‌ی ارسالی کارخانه براش دردسر میشه و اون رو میندازه گردن یه نفر دیگه. مامور پلیس اول داستان با کمک ناخودآگاه مرد سیاهپوست و گندی که ایگنشس در افتتاحیه نمایش رقص در بار میزنه تجارت پورنوگرافی صاحب بار رو کشف می‌کنه. مادر ایگنشس با اون پیرمرد ابتدای داستان ازدواج می‌کنه و تصمیم میگیره پسرش رو بفرسته تیمارستان و در نهایت ایگنشس با دوست دختر سابقش فرار می‌کنه! :/

Enter in a long list of posthumously published manuscripts from young authors who committed suicide and this one will probably reach the top of the list along with David Foster Wallace, with the difference being that DFW had garnered fame before his untimely demise.

That being said, this one is full of 50's and 60's humor, more a lambast of society as a whole, of racial perspectives in specific, and a whole lot more of business and miscellany becoming a modern retelling of a certain classic of Cervantes, although, in actuality, I saw a lot more in common with Voltaire with its hyperbole.

I found it mostly enjoyable in a kind of throwback kind of way, chuckling with all the communist jokes, the temporary insanity pleas, and perhaps a bit less with all the reverse black stereotype humor... in that our funny fat man is amazed and disappointed that any self-respecting black man would ever want to join the mindless hoard of the middle class...

It's funny on the surface, a lambast of the middle class, but this kind of humor does little for me when it comes to all the black vagrancy charges, the lower-than minimum wage jobs, and the rest of the caricatures, an obvious period piece despite the pulitzer win of 1980.

Still, the snappy dialogue, the over-the-top absurd situations, and even the rather funny portraiture of feminism and protests were pretty damn good.

I'll remember it fondly, but I am not quite certain that this will be remembered through the ages like some people seem to think. Sadly.

"Employers sense in me a denial of their values.... They fear me. I suspect that they can see that I am forced to function in a century I loathe. This was true even when I worked for the New Orleans Public Library.”

I think it's safe to say that Ignatius J. Reilly is the most repugnant, belligerent, disgusting, and reprehensible protagonist of any book I've ever read.  There is not one redeeming quality about this oafish, belching, bellicose, self-aggrandizing character.  And yet he made me laugh my ass off!  He is unkind to everyone; he is arrogant and insulting and belittling to everyone.  He is the perfect character to despise.  He would remind me of trump except that he is educated and intelligent.  He is even rude to his mother though she's not exactly a nice character either.  I would feel sorry for her after his tirades and then she'd open her mouth and that was the end of any pity I felt for her.  

All of the characters are exaggerated and over-the-top.  Toole's depictions amplify human faults to a degree that becomes hilarious.  His characters, though awful, are so well depicted and real.  There is a lot of dialogue and Toole writes the accent.  That made it even more fun to read as I could hear the distinct New Orleans patois.  

It is sad to know that John Kennedy Toole was unable to find a publisher for this or his other books and ended up committing suicide.  The books were published posthumously and this one even won the Pulitizer Prize for fiction.

A Confederacy of Dunces is not for everyone, especially not if you are easily offended.  However, if you enjoy picaresque novels and/or satire, you will love this book.  The humor is at times bawdy and always offensive but oh the intellectual depth of those insults!  This book is not politically correct so again, it's not for everyone. For me, because he included just about everyone (including gay people of which I am one) in the insults and didn't single out any certain groups of people, it was funny. The author does not come across as hating on anyone. Instead, he shows how despicable people are when they do stereotype and hate others.

(December 2019 classic-of-the-month)

This one took me much longer to complete than I originally thought, but don't get me wrong because it was entirely my fault. It was difficult to find time to read. What a shame because this book is an absolute delight! I've come across many books that attempt to be funny. This one IS funny and does it so naturally.

Ignatius is the worst kind of person you can come across. The fact that the author could present him in such a likable comedic way is a testament to his writing skill. As much as I love Ignatius, my favorite character is Burma Jones. He is a riot! I find myself yelling "Woah!" in my house while laughing like a maniac. When those two get together, it's magic.

This is a heavily character-driven book. If you don't love them then you won't like the book. The plot is window dresssing and that's why I didn't give it a 5 star rating. I can totally see why this is one of Chuck Palahniuk's favorite books. Do yourself a favor and check it out.

ay bu nasıl bir anti kahraman, nasıl dayaklık bir tip, nasıl insanı öfkeden kudurturken zeytinyağı gibi üste çıkan doğuştan mağdur, yani bi nevi siyasal islamcı gibi bişi allah affetsin. ignatius j. reilly, seni hiç unutmayacağım.
sürekli subabıyla boğuştuğu midesi, ayı gibi yediği için bitmeyen gazları, boyutu, kilosu, kılık kıyafeti, kibri, tembelliğiyle hiçbir okur da zaten unutamaz ignatius’u.
zekasıyla etrafındaki herkesi sindirmiş ignatius kötü biri mi? kesinlikle değil. ama bu onu eşek sudan gelinceye kadar dövmek istememize engel olmuyor. kutsal bir biçimde sakladığı bekareti, üniversiteden unutamadığı ekürisi myrna’yla yazışmaları ve roman boyunca süren hasetin getirdiği komiklikler, annesinin özgürleşmeye başlamasına verdiği çocukça ama tabii ki afili laflarla süslenmiş tepkiler öyle komik ki aslında. sadece sinirlerimiz bozuluyor bir yerden sonra.
bunun dışında nefis bir amerika eleştirisi. her yandan sarkazm akıyor. siyahilere yapılanlara ignatius’un laf arasındaki tepkileri, romanın en aklı başında kişisi zenci jonas, salak polisler, tüm orta yaşı saran komünist düşmanlığı, bir yandan gününü gün eden marjinal sanatçılar… hele hele levy pantolonlarının sahipleri, bayan levy’nin seramik, psikoanaliz, spor vs hobileri… 1960’lardan beri her şey ana her şey nasıl aynı.
dili püren özgören müthiş yerelleştirmiş. ben her romana yakıştırmam yerelliği ama burada romanın başında yazar zaten new orleans ağzının farkını yazmış alıntılarla. bunun muhtemelen aynen böyle halk diline çevrilmesi gerekiyordu. püren hanıma o konuda güvenin sonsuz. bu kitaptan alıntılarla “bu nebçim çeviri?” diyen bir grup okur olmuştu, ahahah onlara diyecek sözüm yok vallahi.
john kennedy toole’un kitabın yayımlandığını görmeden intihar etmesi çok acı. annesinin yaptığına ise gözlerim doldu. hayata bak ya. ne adaletsiz.

این کتاب از اون آثاری است که خوانندگانش یا آن را خیلی می پسندد

I hated this book. I almost gave up after the first 20 pages, but I decided to stick with it and give it a chance. Wrong. My first instinct was correct!

The only thing that might have saved this for me was if the main character Ignatius faced a long, slow, painful death. There was absolutely nothing about him that I found redeeming or appealing. Has there ever been a more annoying, obnoxious character in literature? If so, I don't want to know.

I had heard that this was supposed to be an hilarious book; I don't think I laughed once. I'm left to wonder if this book would have this much hype if it wasn't for the story of its author. (He killed himself; his mom found this manuscript and got someone to publish it. Then it won the Pulitzer.)

Truly, in the words of the great Dorothy Parker, this is not a book to be tossed aside lightly. It should be thrown with great force.

تقریبا برای من کتاب خوبی بود. طنز نسبتا خوبی هم داشت ولی چیزی که خیلی برام دردناک بود این بود که نویسنده در سی و دو سالگی بعد از ناامید شدن از چاپ کتابش به زندگی خودش پایان میده. ولی مادرش کسی‌که باهاش چالش‌های زیادی هم داشته درصدد این برمیاد که حتما کتاب پسرش رو معرفی کنه و به چاپ برسونه که البته موفق هم میشه.

Dear Reader,

Fortuna evidently was smiling upon my being when I endeavored to undertake the consumption of this philosophical masterpiece. How amusing to stumble upon a comic homage to Boethius's Consolation of Philosophy, an homage that not only mirrors its source of inspiration in both content and structure, but moreover employs said source as a plot device of the most humorous kind. Certainly it was no mere accident; indeed it must have been a result of afflatus imparted by the goddess herself in collaboration with the muses Thalia and Calliope. Oh, what genius has the world lost with the tragic demise of John Kennedy Toole?

Through his quixotic anti-hero, Ignatius J. Reilly, Toole is disposed to explore the ideas of predestination and game theory. Is Rielly a misunderstood genius, surrounded by intellectual inferiors and thus a victim of their nescience? Or is it his own distorted reality, paranoid delusions, and ineptitude that is the impetus of his misfortune? It is for you, dear reader, to decide.

I found the descriptions of New Orleans particularly diverting. Such a cast of eccentric and delightful characters could only be found within the borders of the Crescent City (or Stars Hollow). Like Proust's madeleine, the wonderful references to NOLA summoned to my mind memories of a happier, pre-Katrina time in one of my favorite municipalities.

I must say that the numerous references to various and sundry bodily emissions offended my delicate feminine sensibilities somewhat. Perhaps this was the plan of some devious alpha-male, to thus corrupt the otherwise sheltered and virginal innocence of my mentality. As Ignatius said, "This subject deserves the attention of a profound thinker who has a certain perspective on the world's cultural development."

(If any perceptive film producers are interested in buying the movie rights to this Review, I might here make a note about the filming of this critique. A song performed by The Preservation Hall Jazz Band would provide excellent background accompaniment. Perhaps the actress playing your humble reviewer could be seated at a table at the Cafe du Monde, enjoying a cafe au lait and plate of beignets.)

“I am at the moment writing a lengthy indictment against our century. When my brain begins to reel from my literary labors, I make an occasional cheese dip.”
― John Kennedy Toole, A Confederacy of Dunces

A laugh-out-loud picaresque, a story chock-full of satire and unforgettable humorous detail as we follow the adventures of our larger-than-life rascal-hero, Ignatius J. Reilly, floundering and farting his way through New Orleans in the 1960s.

If you think of a novel-length R. Crumb cartoon you would not be far off. Some of the characters we meet: the manager of hot dog carts that sticks a long fork to the thick neck of Ignatius, the owner of a pants factory who constantly has to do verbal battle with his hypercritical, blackmailing wife, a sadistic police sergeant with a twisted, theatrical sense-of-humor and a thimble-brained stripper with a cockatoo. There is enough color and texture and satire to fill a dozen novels but somehow John Kennedy Toole manages to compress it all into his tightly-knit tale.

What really gives this story depth is the metaphysical dimension via Ignatius's worldview, which includes a careful reading of The Consolation of Philosophy by Boethius and a keen awareness of Fortuna's wheel.

And we are right with Ignatius watching the wheel of Goddess Fortuna turn as we turn the pages. What an author; what a story; what a experience! Don't miss out. Get a copy of this book and get set for one of best literary rides of your life.


New Orleans author John Kennedy Toole (1937 - 1969)

“So we see that even when Fortuna spins us downward, the wheel sometimes halts for a moment and we find ourselves in a good, small cycle within the larger bad cycle. The universe, of course, is based upon the principle of the circle within the circle. At the moment, I am in an inner circle. Of course, smaller circles within this circle are also possible.”
― John Kennedy Toole, A Confederacy of Dunces

خاک تو سرت کنن با این کتابت و خودکشیت/تامام…

اين همه تبليغ، اسم پيمان خاكسار ، مقدمه مترجم در تعريف و نمجيد از اين كتاب و شايد نام نشر چشمه منو به خوندن كتاب ترغيب كرد
اما تقريبا تا به امروز ، اتحاديه ابلهان تنها كتابي بوده كه با خوندن هر حطش از خودم مي پرسيدم خب كه چي ؟ يا من چرا دارم اينو مي خونم ؟ اون طنزي كه مترجم ازش حرف مي زد كجا ست ؟ و حتي اگه اسم كتاب اتحاديه ابلهان باشه باز هم وجود اين همه كاراكتر ابله فقط توي يه كتاب جفا در حق خواننده است
و در نهايت من كه به ندرت راضي به نيمه رها كردن كتاب ميشم مجبور شدم با شخصيت هاي احمق و بي معناي اين كتاب هم در نيمه ي راه خداحافظي كنم.

انصافا همين الان هم ياد اون همه درختي كه واسه انتشار اين كتاب بريده شدند ميفتم جيگرم كباب ميشه
و چقدر حق با ناشراني بوده كه همون اول از چاپش امتناع كردند
و ميخوام بدونم جايزه پوليتزر رو دقيقا به دليل كدوم خصيصه به كتاب اهدا كردند

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