"We are merely the stars' tennis balls, struck and --bandied/Which way please them." ----The Duchess of Malfi --by John Webster
Everything about Stephen Fry's new novel, including the title, will be a surprise, perhaps even a shock. The only thing that can be guaranteed is that it will be his next earth-movingly funny bestseller. And we are still pretty confidently saying it will not be about earthworm migration patterns in East Devon.
This is the story of Ned Maddenstone, a nice young man who is about to find out just what hell it is to be one of the stars' tennis balls. For Ned, 1978 seems a blissful year: handsome, popular, responsible and a fine cricketer, life is progressing smoothly for him, if not effortlessly. When he meets Portia Fendeman his personal jigsaw appears complete. What if her left-wing parents despise his Tory MP father? Doesn't that just make them star-crossed lovers? And surely, in the end, won't the Fendemans be won over by their happiness? But, of course, one person's happiness is another's jealous spite. And spite is about to change Ned's life forever. A promise made to a dying teacher and a vile trick played by fellow pupils rocket Ned from cricket captain to solitary confinement, from head boy to political prisoner. Twenty years later, Ned returns to London a very different man from the boy seized outside a Knightsbridge language college. A man implacably focused on revenge. Revenge is a dish he plans to savour and serve to those who conspired against him, and to those who forgot him.
Stephen John Fry is an English comedian, writer, actor, humourist, novelist, poet, columnist, filmmaker, television personality and technophile. As one half of the Fry and Laurie double act with his comedy partner, Hugh Laurie, he has appeared in A Bit of Fry and Laurie and Jeeves and Wooster. He is also famous for his roles in Blackadder and Wilde, and as the host of QI. In addition to writing for stage, screen, television and radio he has contributed columns and articles for numerous newspapers and magazines, and has also written four successful novels and a series of memoirs.
"Tennis Balls of Heaven" is not quite a retelling of "The Count of Monte Cristo". Rather, a novel by Dumas, transferred to the scenery of modernity, where the bitter fate of Edmond Dantes falls to a nice guy Ned: from a good family, young and promising, loves the best girl in the world and it's mutual.
To the question: "Why write another "Count of Monte Cristo?" - I would answer: - The plot is painfully good. and nobody reads Dumas now. To make sure again, in the futility of revenge, which over the past century and a half has become a little more obvious. To show that nothing has changed during this time in relation to the state, which is inclined to punish its citizens disproportionately more severely for some offenses than notorious villains for the most brutal crimes.
And one more thing I can't help but say. When they offered to write about the book for the portal "Literaturno", I chose "Tennis Balls of Heaven" because of the translation. Sergey Ilyin is always the happiness of meeting the best of the possible.
И аз воздам А то обстоятельство, что никто не знал, откуда взялся Саймон Коттер и почему он с такой неприличной быстротой забрался на самый верх, лишь добавляло ему загадочности, и добавляло изрядно. Вроде бы еще минуту назад никакого Коттера в мире не было, а минуту спустя он превзошел величием самого Гарри Поттера. На эту тему даже сочинялись стихи, благо удачное созвучие двух имен облегчало поиски рифмы. Стивен Фрай рассказчик хорош, хотя, как на мой читательский вкус, чересчур циничен. Фрай пересказчик великолепен. В его переложении разветвленная и сложная греческая мифология читается как увлекательный сериал, а события Троянской войны выстраиваются наконец в стройную логическую последовательность. Вот бы еще "Илиаду" от Фрая почитать.
"Теннисные мячики небес" не вполне пересказ "Графа Монте-Кристо". Скорее роман Дюма, перенесенный в декорации современности, где горькая участь Эдмона Дантеса выпадает славному парню Нэду: из хорошей семьи, молод и перспективен, любит лучшую девушку на свете и это взаимно. А на ролях Вильфора. Данглара Морсера и Кадрусса выступают два его соученика (один движим завистью. другой местью), кузен девушки Неда, сам влюбленный в нее, и амбициозный молодой полицейский, кое-кто из семьи которого состоит в связи с боевиками ИРА.
Все начнется в конце прошлого века, когда мобильных телефонов еще не было, компьютер воспринимался исключительно вычислительной техникой, а проблемы терроризма, связанного с Северной Ирландией стояли чрезвычайно остро. А продолжается спустя почти два десятка лет, в продолжении которых несчастный оклеветанный Нед будет томиться в застенках.
Судьба пошлет ему своего аббата Фариа, суперагента Бэйба, чьи подвиги в прошлом, но умище при нем. Под мудрым водительством которого несчастный узник постигнет науки. А дальше будет по источнику, потому что враги все то время, пока юноша выживал и превращался в мужчину, строили всякий свою карьеру, и делали это в режиме куда большего благоприятствования.
Поскольку действие перенесено в нашу цифровую эпоху, внезапно появившийся из ниоткуда загадочный красавец с интересной сединой, миллиардер, плейбой, спортсмен и медиамагнат, разумеется связан с высокими технологиями, этакий Илон Маск,. А репутация врагов, которую он с упоением разрушит, в свою очередь, строится на пропаганде семейных ценностей (ничего не напоминает?), этичной торговле и прочих подобных фишках доковидных времен.
На вопрос: "Зачем писать еще одного "Грвфа Монте-Кристо?" - я бы ответила: - Сюжет больно хорош. а Дюма никто уж нынче не читает. Чтобы снова убедиться, в бесплодности мести, которая за прошедшие полтора столетия стала чуть более очевидной. Чтобы показать, что ничего за это время не изменилось в отношении государства, склонного за некоторые проступки карать своих граждан несоизмеримо более сурово, чем отъявленных злодеев за жесточайшие преступления.
И еще об одном не могу не сказать. Когда предложили написать о книге для портала "Литературно", я выбрала "Теннисные мячики небес" из-за перевода. Сергей Ильин - всегда счастье встречи с лучшим из возможного.
I had the book with the alternate title The Stars’ Tennis Balls which seems just a little too whimsical for the subject matter.
Ned Maddstone is a pleasant young man who, following a train of events triggered by a terrible trick played by his classmates, ends up confined and isolated in a mental asylum. When he finally gets out he wants revenge.
This is definitely a story in three acts. The first is light; mocking certain pompous stereotypes and general satirizing the 1980s London business and political scene. The second is more serious as Ned settles into life in the asylum. The third is a gore fest of ferocious, unrelenting revenge.
The opening chapters were as I would expect from Stephen Fry. Mildly mocking in the style of Oscar Wilde. Well-crafted barbs poking fun at the self-important and the self-involved.
I was intrigued when the story turned into more of a thriller and while surprised by a rather unoriginal plot line (yes I realise it is inspired by the Count of Monte Cristo), it was well written, if a little contrived.
However I was quite shocked by the cold-blooded, brutality of the third act. There was no moderation and little introspection, simply a headlong charge into vicious revenge. Although I felt the ending was fitting, the lack of any kind of subtlety diminished the story for me.
I listened to the audio which is read by the author himself. He reads it with a slightly mocking tone which vaguely satirizes the subjects it is describing, especially at the beginning, but never undermines the seriousness of the events occurring in the main part of the story.
This was a 3.5 story for me but is rounded up to 4 stars by the quality of the narration.
I received this audiobook from Net Galley, in exchange for an honest review.
At the outset: this is late twentieth century rendering of The Count of Monte Cristo. If you don't know that story, please don't read on any further - it will be spoiler-ridden (and maybe, you are from another planet).
We all know what happens in The Count of Monte Cristo: Edmond Dantès, first mate of the ship Pharaon, who has recently been granted the succession of his captain Leclère, is trapped in a false intrigue by a group of people jealous of him for various reasons. The deputy crown prosecutor of Marseille, finding that his own father is really implicated in the treason, sacrifices Dantès to imprisonment without trial in the island prison of Château d'If. He learns of a fortune on the isle of Monte Cristo from another prisoner there, and claims it after making good his escape. Returning as a rich man, he extracts revenge on all his enemies in exemplary fashion.
What Stephen Fry has done is transport this story to the end of the last century. Here, the protagonist is Ned Maddstone, the handsome and talented son of conservative MP Sir Charles Maddstone. He is madly in love with Portia Fendeman, who is the daughter of leftist Jews Peter and Hillary, who don't approve of the union. Portia's cousin Gordon, madly in love with her himself, also disapproves of it. The other people who hate Ned are his classmates Ashley Barson-Garland (employed as Sir Charles's secretary) and the junkie Rufus Cade, because they are jealous of his privileges.
They decide to get him busted for drug-pushing, by planting weed in his overcoat pocket. But the prank misfires, as Ned is also carrying a missive from the captain of the sailboat he was sailing on during his vacation: an instruction to the IRA, for planting bombs. The secret service man who interrogates him, Oliver Delft, rightly identifies him as an innocent victim - but finds out, to his horror, that his mother is the intended recipient! To protect himself, Delft has Ned committed to a lunatic asylum on a Nordic Island, which the secret service uses to "bury" troublesome prisoners.
On the island, Ned lives a life of quiet despair and is on the verge of losing his sanity when he meets Babe, another political prisoner. This proves to be turning point in his life. With Babe's help, Ned becomes a changed person. Like the original Count of Monte Cristo, he manages to escape and amass a fortune. What remains is the triumphant return and revenge.
***
Stephen Fry has managed the astonishing feat of staying as close to the original as possible while transporting the whole story to the current era. When Ned goes to the asylum in 1980, there are still no mobile phones or internet - lovers still write letters on paper and post them in envelops. USA and USSR are engaged in a cold war which it seems will never end. When he comes out in 1999, we are in the midst of the dotcom revolution and communism is a distant memory. The changes of the tumultuous two decades are woven seamlessly into the tale. The only thing which has not changed, it seems, is the duplicity of politicians and human greed. The author manages to shower trenchant criticism on British society, politics and the "fruits" of the neoliberalist philosophies which ruled the roost in the late nineties and the early twenty-first century, while not losing the central thread of this gripping revenge tale.
An enjoyable read, though not a great work of literature. Fry's language is a treat, though.
My students seem at times to be wholly obsessed with “getting back” at people who have done them wrong. I try to calm them down, to refocus them on positive things, but the truth is: when you want to get revenge you are completely and absolutely immersed in that feeling. You can’t help but fixate on those who have wronged you and those who must now pay the price. It is an obsession, a complete fixation that overwhelms mind, body and soul. That heightened emotional state breeds a greater emotional investment by the reader.
And it has done for centuries, hence the ongoing appeal of Alexandre Dumas’ The Count of Monte Cristo with all its swashbuckling through stage (9 separate scripts in the 21st century) and screen (most notably in 2002) and into prime time television (in ABC’s Revenge). But perhaps the most compelling version of the story comes from British actor/game show host/scholar/author/wit Stephen Fry whose 2000 novel Revenge can happily be found in most bargain bins of your local second hand book store.
Fry retells the classic tale of betrayal and deception far from the tumultuous France of the early 18th century. Instead he opts for the seemingly bland era of early 80s/late 90s England. The long forgotten (often historically obscured threats) of a militant IRA & chaotic Tory party mean little to an American audience, but they perfectly support this story and become intimately familiar in the context of a wrong man seeking justice.
For Fry, young Ned Maddstone–all-around likable private-school prodigy–is the unfortunate protagonist. Witless to the machinations of his malevolent “friends”, Ned’s privileged place in society is crushed in the course of a single afternoon. A prank, a package and a family secret combine to exile him to a psychiatric hospital in Scandinavia where distance and uncertainty wipe away his memories of what h really is. With the help of a curmudgeonly mentor, Ned regains his memory and seeks a return to his old life by revisiting cruelty upon cruelty on the heads of those who wronged him first.
A public figure who prides himself on love of language, Fry is a reader’s writer: the kind of writer who will gleefully use anagrams as an homage (Ned Maddstone = Edmond Dantes–Dumas’ original protagonist), incorporate a plethora of references to antiquity along with a healthy dollop of good-old-fashioned vulgarity. (My favorite quote: “Where were you when [someone got their comeuppance] on live television? I was watching television, shit-for-brains…where were you?”) But best of all he understands the truth of revenge.
Fry makes sure that it’s terribly fun to watch Maddstone (styling himself as Simon Cotter, tech gazillionaire) undo the treacherous louts who ruined his life. And I mean that in the truest sense of “terribly”. As the story unfolds you are both completely, totally and horrifyingly captivated. The destruction of a human life to satisfy personal animus is awful…and awfully entertaining. For that alone this is a phenomenal book.
Ooo this had so much promise at the beginning. I got so excited when I saw it at the library and got it home. I've enjoyed Fry's other novels so much, and this one started so interesting between the diary and the love letter and then fell into this straight narrative style that not only was conventional, but it seemed that Fry stopped trying. The first two thirds were not bad, but that last act was just awful. I didn't like the protagonist. Never saw any real fire or passion for his revenge, and the actual set-ups were so hacky and contrived. I know Fry is a big supporter of Free speech (who isn't) but the whole internet thing was just poor. I guess I was expecting a complete recontextualizing of the Count of Monte Cristo instead I just got a modern version that replaced hand delivered notes with e-mail. I'll take the Napoleonic version any time.
When Alexandre Dumas wrote The Count of Monte Cristo in 1844, he almost certainly did not have thirteen-year-old American boys in mind as his prime audience. But when I first read the classic in the summer of 1963, I knew for certain that I, too, was living the horror of Edmond Dantes life. Dantes, a good and innocent man, was cruelly implicated in treason by three friends who envied Dantes’ pending ship captaincy and marriage to the beautiful Mercedes. Dantes is sent to the notorious Chateau d’If by Villefort when the prosecutor discovers that a letter Dantes was carrying was to be delivered to Villefort’s father, a secret Bonapartist.
My own predicament was only slightly less dire than that of Dantes. I was being cruelly imprisoned for the summer in the home of my aunt, great aunt and grandmother, deep in the hinterlands and five hundred miles from my friends who were experiencing the joy of the beach and girls in bikinis every single day. I empathized with Dantes even if I secretly knew that I would be freed at the end of August in time for the new school year.
Decades later, I had passed the phase of devouring 19th Century classics. My tastes ran more to things like, say, the BBC’s Jeeves and Wooster. The writing was inspired, the humor classic. Alexandre Dumas? Old school. Very old school. Then, last year, while browsing my local library’s book sale, I picked up a copy of Stephen Fry’s 2000 novel, Revenge. I was vaguely aware that Fry, best known in America for films such as Peter’s Friends and Gosford Park, was also a writer, but I had never read any of his works.
When I picked up Revenge last week and started reading the book, it took me about sixty pages to realize that I was immersed in The Count of Monte Cristo. The story line has been updated (the action begins in 1980 rather than 1813). Ned Maddstone is seventeen, Oxford-bound, head boy at his private school, and head over heels in love with Portia whom he met at a Hard Rock Café in London. But his very success makes other around him envious, and they set out to put an obstacle in his charmed life by planting drugs on him and alerting the police.
When Maddstone is arrested, though, something else is found: a letter containing a list of names of prominent Britons together with a code phrase used by the IRA to authenticate its actions prior to acts of terror. Just as the letter being carried by Dantes was entrusted to him by his dying captain together with the letter’s whispered addressee, so Maddstone has no idea of the contents of the letter he has been given by the dying Irish captain of a boat on which he had been crewing. When Maddstone divulges the name and address of the intended recipient of the letter to the detective questioning him, wheels are set in motion to get rid of Maddstone in such a way that he will never be heard from again. Yep, same book.
The rest of the story of meticulously plotted revenge updates Dumas with late twentieth century trappings. The role of Abbe Faria, the Italian priest and intellectual imprisoned for his political views is played by Babe, a one-time British intelligence agent who secreted away a fortune in MI-5 funds before being found out. Instead of a treasure cache on the island of Monte Cristo, the loot is in a Swiss Bank.
There are some very clever bits that underscore Maddstone’s fifteen years in captivity: he arrives in the world of 1995 never having seen a cell phone or a personal computer, and the internet is beyond his comprehension. But none of this detracts from the awful reality that Ned Maddstone was deprived of his life. He is now fabulously wealthy and knows who set him up for the horror he has endured. He sets out to exact that retribution.
Fry departs from Dumas’s story only at the end. I’m still pondering if it is better ending or simply one with a modern sensibility. Perhaps it is something in Fry’s character that he chose the denoument that he did.
All this is my way of saying that this is a good book. Yes, it is more than a decade old, probably sold poorly in America, and is likely out of print. But I note it is available in a Kindle edition. I read it in two days and thoroughly enjoyed it.
With The Stars’ Tennis Balls Stephen Fry gives us a kind of modern retelling of The Count of Monte Cristo with a comedic twist and highly entertaining it is too.
If I had one criticism it would be that he occasionally slips a little too close to a somewhat adolescent revenge fantasy, but that’s a minor quibble at most; don’t let it put you off.
Stephen Fry's book Stars Tennis Balls (a.k.a "Revenge") was possibly one of the best books i have ever read. The story's incorporation of a similar plot to The Count of Monte Cristo, with its wicked, sophisticated and disturbing themes, made the novel work on an entirely different level. Stephen Fry's ability is unbelievable and after reading this i was taken a peg down. He has this uncanny nack to- through his writing- make you take a look at the characters and their devilish deeds, and say: "Yeah... I could do that". You want to be as witty and a dry as one of his protagonists, and you- to an extent- want to have all the vises they have (alchoholism, heavy smoking and a total disregard to people and their feelings). However in the real world i am unable. I find i cannot possibly drink as much whisky as they do (although i do really rather well), i find i cannot possibly go through an two packets of Rothmans in one day, and my guilt far outweighs any desire to be abusive and have no reagard to their person. Such is life.
Revenge is a modern re-telling of The Count of Monte Cristo. It is very well done, because Fry manages to take the elements of Dumas’ novel that take the most suspension of disbelief and make them believable in a modern setting. It’s a clever twist on an old story – with updated methods of revenge, and a clever twist on the old characters (With puns! The character of the Count’s finance is changed from Mercedes to Portia – hee!). It’s suspenseful as well, a major feat considering that I not only knew the ending but had just read the original a month ago.
While the book does an excellent job in making the story more plausible than Dumas’ version, the modern retelling also highlights the central problem with the book. That is, that while revenge is satisfying to read about, it is not a particularly healthy way to live one's life or the best way to solve problems. While Dumas unreservedly encourages the reader to root for the Count’s plan, Fry’s tale is much more morally ambiguous. His “Count” (here named Ned) has everything a man could want – riches, smarts and fame. Is what happened to him early on that bad, that he should ruin these lesser mens’ lives? Particularly since his early experience is what led him to have these great things? Fry stacks the deck a bit toward ambiguity, in his story three of the four men upon whom revenge is sought were not really seeking to ruin Ned’s life – just to humiliate him a bit, and it all went miserably wrong. In the Dumas original, all the men were seriously trying to ruin Dantes, so it was more satisfying when they were destroyed. Here, Fry presses harder on the question of whether Ned’s cause is a worthy one. Leaving the reader with a clever, action packed book that asks some serious questions about life. What more could you want?
On a side note, Fry, a British author, is probably best known as an actor. He’s been in many, many movies, and is probably best known, in America, at least, as Jeeves in the most recent adaptations of Wodehouse novels (which are absolutely awesome). I’ve read two of his other books, which while more strictly comedic, are fun, too.
A modern update of the Count of Monte Cristo revenge tale, set in England between 1980 and the present day. A well written thriller, good for a pleasant diversionary read. Starts off with a very compelling set-up, as the main character is betrayed and then sent off into a mysterious exile, lost to his father and the girl he loves. This is the most plausible part of the book, although some fairly outlandish coincedences and connections occur to make the situation as bad as possible for the main character. The second phase is the most interesting part of the book, as the lead character is mentored by a mysterious stranger during his imprisonment. Of course he escapes, makes his way back to England, and exacts his revenge on those who perpretrated the crimes against him as a young man. The escape and the subsequent events are the least realistic parts of the book, and in some ways most of the drama went out of the story once the main character returned to England.
If you are familiar with the details of the Count of Monte Cristo, you'll find nearly all of them here in this tale. Monte Cristo is one of my favorite old-time adventure tales, but I will admit that it bogs down in some parts, especially towards the end. Stephen Fry's update of the story is much shorter...you can breeze through this easily in a few hours. And I liked this version better in some ways than Alexandre Dumas's original version. For one thing, since the story is set in the modern era, I can relate much better to the means used to betray the main character, and so can almost believe that this sort of thing could take place. But that familiarity created by the modern setting works against itself when we come to the endgame, because the main character manipulates events far too easily for me to buy into the idea that he could get away with such efforts and not be revealed by the press or his enemies for who he is.
One last note about this book that I kind of enjoyed is the depiction of British class and social consciousness. The archvillain of the story (by that I mean that it is his jealousy is what sets the trail of events in motion) is shown at the beginning of the tale to have a fearfully well developed sense of envy of the upper classes, and he aspires to join their ranks while at the same time despising much about what he thinks they stand for. This was a very interesting section of the book, and it comes right at the beginning. I am aware that these kind of class resentments exist in English society, but they seem like very foreign ideas to me as an American. So it was mildly interesting to get a glimpse into the mind of someone who harbors that kind of hatred, though I can't be sure how realistic, exaggerated, or representative this character and his feelings are.
Bottom line: a good thriller for someone looking for pleasure reading. Recommended to anyone who liked the Count of Monte Cristo.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
I need to catch up on my Stephen Fry, I mean aside from my marathon sessions of watching "QI" episodes on youtube (a shout out here to "Nickfromfulham" for posting them all). I read The Liar and The Hippopotamus many years ago, and found them both to be brilliant; I read his memoir, Moab is My Washpot, and was less favorably impressed. This reworked Count of Monte Cristo story falls somewhere in between. Of course the writing is excellent, the erudition is breathtaking, and the humor is insidious; I did mention that this was written by Stephen Fry, did I not? The problem might be that he set out writing a Patricia Highsmith story, of twisted jealousies on the parts of the conspirators, and he's just too sane to carry that off. Even the somewhat Baroque, Jacobean comeuppances suffered by the baddies are more humorous than scarifying. Stephen Fry suffers from being more P.G. Wodehouse than Patricia Highsmith, and that is a good thing.
I love Stephen Fry's writing - eloquent, witty, ironic, beautifully English. His stories are always a little bit weird, this one is even slightly mad, but in a good way ;) I was not disappointed.
Bij deze wil ik toch serieus opperen om mensen als Stephen Fry een beetje in de gaten te houden want volgens mij ben je gewoon niet helemaal lekker als je dit soort verhalen kunt bedenken. Wel vet.
Es ist ein echter Fry, witzig geschrieben, very British, ohne überflüssige Schnörkel oder Wiederholungen, und schon nach ein paar Seiten ist man drin in der Geschichte, und kommt so schnell nicht mehr raus. Ähnlich wie „The Liar“ und „Making History“ ist die Geschichte ein bisschen (über)konstruiert, zerfällt in zwei symmetrische Teile und hat so ein bisschen was von einer Schullektüre wie „Der Jasager und der Neinsager“.
Jetzt aber erst mal ein bisschen spoilen: Ned ist der Streber in einem britsichen College, den keiner mag, aber das weiß er nicht. Seine Widersacher (Mitschüler) schmuggeln ihm ein paar Gramm Shit in die Tasche, verpfeifen ihn bei der Polizei, und auf Grund schwer durchschaubarer Zufälle und Intrigen landet Ned als mutmaßlicher IRA-Terrorist in einem als Irrenanstalt getarntem Endlager für Staatsfeinde in Schweden, wo die Insassen auf fiese Art ruhiggestellt werden, so was wie ein Ikea-Guantanamo. Wie es der Zufall will, lernt er dort „Babe“ kennen, der ihm neben Schach so ziemlich alle lebendigen Sprachen beibringt, ihm zur Flucht verhilft und ihm schließlich ein Milliardenvermögen vererbt. So weit der erste Teil.
Wieder in England. Ned bekrabbelt sich wieder, wird zu einem Bill Gates, und seine Rache ist fürchterlich. Seine Widersacher sind (natürlich) alle a) korrupte Politiker, b) skrupellose Stasitypen c) gewissenlose Gangster und d) lächerliche Familienväter mit böööösem Geheimnis (Seitensprung) und pharisäerhaftem Getue geworden bzw. geblieben. Ned kauft sie alle, stellt sie bloß, lässt sie grausam ermorden und treibt sie in den Selbstmord. Dabei zählt er genüsslich von 4 bis 1 herunter und ist sich am Schluss empört, dass Porsh ihn dafür nicht bewundert. Soviel zum Neinsager.
Nichts gegen Racheszenarien, ein solcher Plot kann auch Spaß machen. Aber mich stört so viel an der ganzen Geschichte, dass auch Frys lockerer Stil es einfach nicht rausreißen kann. Die Figuren sind statisch, denn die Guten bleiben gut und die Bösen bleiben böse. Frys Witz überträgt sich nicht auf seine Figuren. Diese spielen ihre Rolle in der vom Autor angelegten Versuchsanordnung stur, humorlos und lustlos runter.
Aber das ist nicht der Punkt, der mich am meisten stört. Rache ist nur legitim und unterhaltsam, wenn sie halbwegs angemessen ist, überraschend kommt und pfiffig geplant wird. Das alles fehlt den Tennisbällen. Klar hat Ned eine Menge durchmachen müssen, und klar haben das Ashley&Co. Auch verursacht. Aber auch verschuldet? Wer kann denn damit rechnen, dass ein paar Gramm Shit zu einem zwanzigjährigen Martyrium führen? Muss man für einen solchen (wenn auch groben) Dummenjungenstreich gleich Beine absägen? Oder geht es gar nicht um Rache, sondern einfach darum, mal ein paar Arschlöcher rücksichtslos zu quälen? Aber dafür würde mir dann der passende Humor fehlen.
Уже после того, как я купила книгу и продиралась на улицу с переполненной людьми книжной ярмарки, я увидела в аннотации слова: "Этот роман - "Граф Монте-Кристо" поколения брокеров и программистов". И действительно, повествование почти сразу повернуло в знакомое русло: успешный, влюбленный, красивый молодой человек, который даже не подозревает о том, что кругом него полно завистников, уже готовящих заговор... Сюжет пересказывать бесполезно - многие знают его еще с пеленок. Скажу лишь, что поначалу я сомневалась, что автору удастся "красиво" обосновать заточение героя на столь длительный срок. Ну кто сейчас сажает людей в тюрьму на двадцать лет только из-за того, что он передал письмо, пусть и антиправительственное? Однако автор обыграл ситуацию с изяществом и правдоподобностью, которые очень порадовали.
Симпатии мои на протяжении всей книги были на стороне Неда (так зовут героя). Он был чист и невиннен, его погубили людская жадность и зависть. Несправедливо. А справедливость - высшая ценность в моем понимании. Я уверена, будь я на месте героя, сделала бы то же самое. Выносила бы блестящий план мести и без капли жалости его реализовала бы. Кто-то скажет: смирение, прощение - вот высшая ценность. Я отвечу: справедливость, пускай слепая и жестокая порой, мне гораздо больше по душе. Я не из тех, кто подставляет вторую щеку. Я и первую-то успею увернуть.
Порция - так звали любимую женщину Неда, которая отчаявшись и потеряв надежду найти его, была вынуждена выйти за другого. Лишь она оказалась в состоянии покачнуть мою твердую уверенность в том, что герой делает все правильно. Но лишь на несколько минут. Про щеку говорили позже, сначала были зуб за зуб и око за око. Этот закон древнее, он взывает к более стойким инстинктам человека.
since the beginning of this project I have projected Stephen Fry as my choice of english author.
ah, this book reminded me why I don't read blurbs. I did not realize until 200 pages into the book that I was reading a retelling of the count of monte cristo, yes I realize I should have realized sooner, but I saw the movie once in a theater almost 8 years ago, and the book is very different from the movie (a lot of which I know of and was excited to see which Fry chose to follow). Now that I have ruined the experience of not knowing for everyone else, I urge you not to discount it and read Dumas instead, perhaps read book, although Dumas stole his plot from Jacques Peuchet so I suppose if you really insist on going back to basics at least do it correctly.
I thoroughly enjoyed this book, I thought the plot was surprising and inventive (at least until I realized it was stolen, perhaps explaining why such intelligent people have stolen it). A long stay in a mental institution is far more interesting then figuring things out quickly and living happily ever after, also comes off as more through. The plot also makes a strange comment on "sociopathy" being that the "Cristo" character always becomes a one after having been such a nice, unobtrusive, stupid boy. I infact enjoy Fry thoroughly and suggest the book weather or not you have read Dumas, The book has even made me a bit interested in reading Dumas which historically I never have been.
It took me quite a while to get into the story, but having gotten past the first part which reads like an excerpt from Moab, I could not put it down. I had - on purpose - not read any reviews for this book, and am now glad about that as most reviews only make the comparison to The Count of Monte Christo.
What about the resonances of other works, though? I couldn't help but also be reminded of Zweig's Chess Story, Duerrenmatt's Physicists, The Bourne Identity, and Pulp Fiction. All in all I was reminded of a venerable hodge podge of dilemmas. The kind of pastiche episodes that make fab reading in any graphic novel, except of course that The Stars' Tennis Balls isn't a graphic novel. Isn't it? It will probably take a few days before I can make up my mind about this one.
In any case, 5 stars for gripping my imagination, for making me reconsider literary genres, for keeping me up half the night pondering about the characters, for - no doubt - sticking in my head for a long time to come.
This turned out to be quite a journey - an unexpected one, at that.
Misled by my smutty interpretation of the title (in fact part of a quotation about fate from the Duchess of Malfi), and vague memories of previous efforts by Fry, I was expecting something light and silly, when in fact I found myself confronted with a modern retelling of that tale of ruthless revenge: Le Comte de Monte-Cristo.
As you could expect from Fry, the book is clever, witty and very well written. Not for a minute was I bored by it. A very good surprise.
That almost final, scene is quite something, though - not for the faint-hearted.
It came as a great surprise to me how much I disliked the book. I am a big fan of Fry's work and personality in general, and I have a sort of cognitive dissonance now at how little of Fry as I imagined him to be is in Revenge. I found the book vain, boring to the level of absurdity, completely out of touch with reality, snobbish and devoid of Fry's classic subtle humor. It felt like a low budget TV adaptation of Monte Cristo that Fry himself would mock relentlessly in one of his shows. What happened, man? Or is it a double/triple irony that I was too dumb to see? Meh.
In the beginning, The Stars' Tennis Balls sounded nothing like the psychological thriller Wikipedia purported it to be. After the first 120 pages, however, the slope into thriller territory was delightfully steep.
"Approaching the perpendicular, sir," I can remember Stephen Fry intoning as Jeeves.
The author takes the old chestnut about making characters suffer very seriously indeed. A single incident of horrible timing sends these deeply nuanced characters to their own personal hells (one far more torturous than the others).
This book combines the adventurous, high-stakes vibe of a classic spy novel with the chilling possibility that any decent person could easily find themselves embroiled in a torturous web of conspiracy and international intrigue, to devastating effects. It puts a microscope on envy, ambition, resentment, covetousness, ruin, anger, and finally, revenge.
Fry expertly drops breadcrumbs of hope and of despair by turns to keep you following the emotional rollercoaster across a twenty-year time jump, and tells one of the best revenge stories since Not A Penny More, Not A Penny Less. The only slight criticism is that he gets caught out actively pre-empting plot holes - a behaviour that occasionally mars the pace in an otherwise gripping story.
As always, Fry's writing style is a delightful walk through a convoluted and beautiful mind, this time taking the shape of a menagerie of myriad voices and intentions. The shifting perspectives keep you hooked and guessing from one chapter to the next.
Overall, an entertaining and eventually hard-hitting read. Highly recommended.
A ripping yarn based on the Count of Monte Cristo.
As with all Stephen Fry works, it is handy to have a thesaurus to hand as I am sure it is damn near impossible to keep up with the lexicon of language at Fry's disposal.
The tale, as hinted by in the title, hinges around the scheme of revenge for the main protagonist. It is a bit of a slow starter, but when it kicks in it is hard to put down as Fry has set you up with cliffhanger after cliffhanger forcing you to turn that page and start the next chapter.
IF you havn't read it and like a good adventure with twists and turns aplenty, you won't go far wrong with this.
I didn't really like The Count of Monte Cristo. It's the plot, the characters, the whole situation - I just don't like it. I liked it a little better when Stephen Fry was writing it, but if Alexandre Dumas couldn't make it work for me, I'm afraid it was a bit of a losing battle. The turn of phrase was excellent, because it always is when Stephen Fry writes, but sorry, Stephen, I didn't really enjoy it all that much.
Full disclaimer, I didn’t buy this book on my own accord, but was given it as a present by somebody believing I would get a kick out of it. This book and it’s content is worth talking about, which is why I put this whole comment in spoilers.
By page 45 i realized what Fry has done in this book, the old title “Revenge” would have been even a stronger sign. Hell was I annoyed when I realized that Fry wasn’t telling a story of his own, but a blunt point by point modernized retelling of the Count of Monte Cristo. but i kept reading finishing the book in an afternoon. A lot of the names felt overly clunky, even for literary Englishmen. And then about the middle of the book I looked again at the name NED MADDSTONE as the name of the main protagonist, and suddenly I saw what Fry had done here. It doesn’t make the story really any better but Fry had a lot of fun, amusing himself with names.
Alexandre Dumas Classic is still leagues better, especially on the philosophical question of revenge, and if taking revenge us even justifiable.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Я не нудьгував під час прочитання далі перших двох сотень сторінок. Введення ж та представлення персонажів суто Фраєвське: всі мудаки зі своїми мотивами ненавидіти суспільство, але дехто, як завжди, більший мудак.
Не знаю, чому видаві так нарочито пишуть про гумористичність Фраєвської прози, бо ж більша її частина то доволі збочений та жорстокий постмодерн. І "м’ячики" - не вийняток. Переказана і так дуже рояльнокущева класична історія "Графа Монте Крісто" стає жорстокішою, цинічнішею та дірявішею. Дірявішею, бо все аж занадто очевидно виходить на користь головної мстивої жертви, через що (у везінні у втечі з острову) втрачається навіть те класичне "воля - найсильніший інструмент, який можна передати іншим, якщо тебе не стане". Бо ж потерпів Нед від багатьох негараздів, але воля у його спасінні та помсті зіграла не таку вже й велику роль.
Помста також Фраєвська. Здається, що і писалось це все лише задля фінальної чорнухи.
Fry's modern-day version of The Count of Monte Cristo, with a young Oxford student in the part of Edmund Dantes (now Ned Maddstone).
I read The Count of Monte Cristo for the first time last year. Going into it (I have to be honest here), I thought I was likely in for a bit of a slog, but boy, was I wrong. I LOVED it, and as long as it is, I was still sad when it was over. I'm also a long-time and devoted fan of Stephen Fry's work, and I picked this one up without knowing anything about it, not needing to know because I knew it would be amazing. And it is. So. Amazing. Fry does a fantastic and clever job of translating the story and the characters into a modern setting. It's a bit harsher is places, and Ned is less romantic and much more troubled, but that only makes the transition to the modern world even more believable. I loved it. LOVED it. If you haven't read Dumas' chapbook of a story (and why not?! it's fabulous!), you won't be lost here, but a knowledge of the original will help out with Fry's little nods here and there, which are lovely.
This is one of my favourite Stephen Fry novels so far. Though it is more serious than other Fryesque novels, it has a rivering, suspenseful, surprising plot with the typical touches of Fry's humour. The rivering book tells the tale of Ned Maddstone, a young boy with his whole life ahead of him: he is popular, in love with the beautiful Portia and applying for Oxford. Then the envy of few makes him the victim of a series of coincidences and unfortunate events untill one thing remains on his mind: revenge.
Many good books are encountered by accident: I discovered this book upon being led into Waterstones by a friend. Looking for books by Fry, I discovered this one, a title thus far unknown to me though I thought I knew the titles of all of his novels, so I immediately bought it without hesitation, a choice I didnt regret.
I had no idea what to expect from this one, other than revenge. A friend of mine had read it and raved about it, so I figured it was probably decent. It didn't catch my attention for the first 3/4, but the last 100 pages was one of the best things I've ever read.
They were amazing solely because of how vengeful they were. Ned knew how to hold a grudge. And even better, he knew how to act upon that grudge. Watching him work his way down the list of subjects was addicting, especially with how beautifully it all played out.
Other than that, there's not much to say about this one. It was amazing because of its anger and pettiness, but that's pretty much all it had. Still a fun read though!