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Prater Violet
Summary
Isherwood's story centers on the production of the vacuous fictional melodrama Prater Violet, set in nineteenth-century Vienna, providing ironic counterpoint to tragic events as Hitler annexes the real Vienna of the 1930s. The novel features the vivid portraits of imperious, passionate, and witty Austrian director Friedrich Bergmann and his disciple, a genial young screenwriter: the fictionalized Christopher Isherwood.
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Reviews
A lovely but light fictional recreation of "Christopher Isherwood"'s experiences in the movie business in England before the outbreak of WW2.Friedrich Bergmann is the real character of the book, the Viennese director of the eponymous film, and though his reactions to the news of the events of 1938 in Austria, we learn of the general indifference of Britain to Nazi-ism immediately before the outbreak of WW2, such as the comment that people were joking about holidays in Europe next summer, if there is a Europe!Overall this was a light and remarkably quick read.
This is quite a succinct book, really being a mini Biography of the larger than life, Viennese film director Friedrich Bergmann during the pre-WWII period that Isherwood worked with him on the film Prater Violet. But he is an extremely entertaining, unrelenting and observant writer, who writes with great affection about a man who, for a while, seemed like a father to him.This was a very amusing read, but the larger, darker background story of the prelude to war and of day to day loneliness isn't lost. He is not afraid to laugh at himself, and the images that he creates are wonderful - here's a bit that had me laughing out loud at the beginning:"He was off the line. I jiggled the phone for a moment, stupidly, with vague indignation. Then I picked up the directory, found Imperial Bulldog's number, dialled the first letter, stopped. I walked across to the dining-room door. My mother and my younger brother Richard were still sitting at breakfast. I stood just inside the doorway and lit a cigarette, not looking at them, very casual.'Was that Stephen?' my mother asked. She generally knew when I needed a cue-line.'No.' I blew out a lot of smoke, frowning at the mantelpiece clock. 'Only some movie-people.''Movie-people!' Richard put down his cup with a clatter. 'Oh, Christopher! How exciting!'This made me frown harder.After a suitable pause my mother asked with extreme tact: 'Did they want you to write something?''Apparently,' I drawled, almost too bored to speak."...I'm smirking as I read it right now!
It is a marvelous moment when Isherwood, as narrator, casts off his "camera" disguise and lays bare his up-until-then unsuspected personal feelings. The character of the expatriate film director is a comic gem.