The Names

ISBN: 0679722955
ISBN 13: 9780679722953
By: Don DeLillo

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About this book

Set against the backdrop of a lush and exotic Greece, The Names is considered the book which began to drive "sharply upward the size of his readership" (Los Angeles Times Book Review). Among the cast of DeLillo's bizarre yet fully realized characters in The Names are Kathryn, the narrator's estranged wife; their son, the six-year-old novelist; Owen, the scientist; and the neurotic narrator obsessed with his own neuroses. A thriller, a mystery, and still a moving examination of family, loss, and the amorphous and magical potential of language itself, The Names stands with any of DeLillo's more recent and highly acclaimed works. "The Names not only accurately reflects a portion of our contemporary world but, more importantly, creates an original world of its own."--Chicago Sun-Times"DeLillo sifts experience through simultaneous grids of science and poetry, analysis and clear sight, to make a high-wire prose that is voluptuously stark."--Village Voice Literary Supplement"DeLillo verbally examines every state of consciousness from eroticism to tourism, from the idea of America as conceived by the rest of the world to the idea of the rest of the world as conceived by America, from mysticism to fanaticism."--New York Times

Reader's Thoughts


This man's got all sorts of work to celebrate. Start w/ GREAT JONES STREET, DeLillo's vision of the banality that suffocates the famous, more pertinently American rock royalty, & continue right through to FALLING MAN, his fable of 9/11 & an America in which every tower is a deck of cards. Too long, my Goodreads space has languished w/out him, & I've got to go w/ this early-80s novel, a well-night flawless performance, the initial breakthrough to his creative peak. THE NAMES astounds & scarifies even w/out the crowd scenes that tend to define DeLillo at his most breathtaking. This one's a divorce story, to begin w/, & the writer fires up hurting-love dialog of scorching rarity. There's an illicit seduction scene, on the downtown sidewalks of midnight Athens. More moving, though wildly different, is the phone conversation between the protagonist James, committed to Athens because of his cutting-edge work in "corporate risk-assessment," & his former wife, the evening she commits to divorce & to taking their preteen son to live with her in Seattle. DeLillo weeps! He pleads for love! Yet elsewhere we've got busy & cold-eyed passages, in a alacritous poetry bordered w/ concrete & ranking w/ his very best, full-throat oratorios of overwhelming humanity, of threat & its hair's-breadth escape. James becomes an homicide investigator malgré lui, drawn into making sense of a series of cult murders, & so this Italian-American's version of the return to the Old Country (most immigrant cultures have such stories, but this ethnic group especially) -- anyway, DeLillo's version avoids all sentiment as it excavates the axial lines of one family's collapse & what it has to do w/ the larger cultural moment. It swims the Greek Aegean rather than the Neapolitan Tyrhennian, & more significantly, it never fails to suss out the close allegiances between affection & murder, love & madness, transcendence & depravity. THE NAMES reminds us that, for the most honest "risk-assessment," we need to go into the wilderness & ask the howler in his cave.

Joey Diamond

I have this problem with books that have a mystery element to them.. I never bother thinking about what's going on or trying to solve the puzzle. I just figure, if the author wants me to know stuff they will let me know. It works ok with crappy crime fiction but I wonder if I'm missing some of the joys and intricacies of this book.Mostly I really loved the descriptions of Greece in here, and of other places too. Gave me big time wanderlust. I love the way Delillo does dialogue, and how he writes about family, love and desire in such a sparse and detached way. I always enjoy how nobody is too likeable in his books."It was only when she'd finished talking that she turned her attention to Frank, grabbing a handful of hair at the back of his neck and twisting his head so that he might see directly into her gray eyes. Their public affection was reserved for the times when they heckled and mocked each other. It was an automatic balance, the hands and eyes as the truth-tellers of love, the things that redeem what we say."Mostly though, I feel too lazy to do interpretation of The Names and I want someone to explain to me what it was all about.


DeLillo is a tough author at times, he can also be fantastic. Underworld is a masterpiece and i loved that. Fortunately or unfortunately, that was the first DeLillo I read and ever since I have been trying to rediscover the brilliance of that novel. Nothing has matched it, but a lot have been interesting: white noise, libra, falling man and now The Names. I think he is such an American writer and I like that about him.the names made me think and seems remarkable that it was written in the early 80s - so much of it seems very ahead of its time.

Robert Jacoby

Here is a caveat: I read poetry, novels, and short stories for both pleasure and work: to enjoy the writer's use of language and to learn how the writer did what he or she did, and to take away from the experience lessons for myself in my own work. As a writer, I give this novel 5 stars; as a reader, I give it 3 stars. As a writer I stand in awe of DeLillo's use of language. He is constantly surprising you with his quirky and inventive use of words and phrases. As a reader, be prepared to find not much of a story to drive any sort of action. There is no readily apparent narrative arc. The dialogue is unreal. People don't speak like this. I think DeLillo provides hints at the struggles with story he experienced while writing this novel: "What we lacked was a subject"; "...a shouted dialogue lacking sense and purpose." Yeah, it kind of feels like that, like DeLillo started writing and just kept writing. On my first attempt at reading this novel I stopped at about page 47 (someone once told me: Give a book 50 pages; if it hasn't grabbed you by then, feel free to give it up). Well, I did give up; I put it away for about a year. But then I circled back to it. And I'm glad I did. As a writer more than a reader. Because that's what pulled me along. Not the story, not the characters, not the action. But the language. Which is of course DeLillo's intention.But here is where my writer and reader minds collide. Even as I was enjoying the beautiful and startling use of language on the pages, I was thinking that these conversations could never take place because real people do not speak like this, nor does a person think like the main character thinks. If we are to believe that the main character--a risk analyst living in Greece, who used to be a technical writer--is really who he says he is, then he is in the wrong line of business. He should be a poet (a Poet Laureate, for that matter), or a novelist.Oh. That's right. He already is. It's DeLillo.This is where the book "falls apart" for me, in this page-by-page collision. But it's a beautiful collision. And if you can hang on for the ride you'll be rewarded with a new way of viewing the world, and the world of words.


I came back to this book for a couple of reasons; first, because I am about the lose my "Staff Favorite" pick at work (feckless customers who don't realize what a wonderful book Kurosawa's SOMETHING LIKE AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY truly is!) and am thinking about using this as a replacement, and secondly, because I recently read YOUTH WITHOUT YOUTH, which, however flawed it is as a novel, shares some of the linguistic concerns that inform DeLillo's novel.Set in the period just before and during the 1979 revolution in Iran, THE NAMES is told almost entirely from the point of view of James Axton, an American who secures a post in Athens as a risk assessor in order to be near his estranged wife, Kathryn, and nine-year-old son, Tap, who are living on a remote Cycladic Island. In Athens, he becomes part of a deracinated community of Anglo-American bank officials and diplomats, who greet each other with the semi-facetious question "Are they killing Americans?" when any of them return from business in the Mediterranean and Middle East. On the Island, Axton catches wind of an ascetic cult of assassins who murder in quest of meaning, and who form an unwitting parody of the terrorism that is gripping the region. Kathryn, who represents stability, and the cult, who represent a nihilistic search for meaning, become the magnetic poles which influence Axton's life. "...he wondered about the uses of ecstasy, see the Greek, a displacing, a coming out of stasis. That's all it was. A freedom, an escape from the condition of ideal balance. Normal understanding is surpassed, the self and its machinery obliterated." The true genius of this novel, which earned this book the fifth star in my rating, occurs in the last 5 pages, which are a segment of a "non-fiction" novel that Tap is writing, and which brilliantly encapsulate the main body of the novel.

Ian Paganus

Designated DriverHave you ever got the impression that, when an author started a book, they had no idea where it would go or how it would end?That they would just slide into the front seat and let the book take over?This is not such a book.Instead, I got the impression that DeLillo was so firmly ensconced in the driver’s seat here that he wouldn’t have got out if a crew of firemen arrived to rescue him from his burning vehicle.It was win or die, so he had to pull out all stops.When he started, he had the finish line in sight, and when he arrived at the finish line, he made sure that he had come full circle back to where he had started.Seventh Heaven“The Names” was DeLillo’s seventh novel.His previous works had enjoyed modest critical success, but hadn’t really made any commercial impact.This book is generally regarded as the one that launched his career.Originally published in 1982, I first read it in 1987, when it was repackaged after the relative success of his next novel, “White Noise”.It is still the DeLillo book by which I judge all others, but it’s also the one that I recommend as an entry point for anyone who hasn’t read him yet.While it deals with later concerns like cults, terrorism, modernity, security and the plight of America in the world, it does so in a more overtly humanist manner.These issues are the backdrop for the very personal frailties and stories of the protagonists. First Among ProtagonistsThe narrator is an American, James Axton, who is based in Athens at the beginning of the 1980’s.Someone who is quite capable of writing fiction and screenplays, he makes a living writing reports and memos about the economic, social and political situation in the Middle East for the North East Group, a corporation that issues insurance policies against the risk of terrorist activities.He has to identify and assess the risk of terrorist activity, which brings him and his employer to the attention of the CIA.At heart, he is a lonely sad expatriate, a man living apart.He isn’t writing the works he is capable of.He is estranged from his wife and nine year old son, his native America and the Greek society around him.He survives in a world of similarly jaded expatriates who have made Athens a European base for business sorties into the Middle East.Like his own, the other expatriate marriages are stressed and vulnerable to adulterous affairs.This is very much a late twentieth century European version of “The Quiet American”.The Poor Norseman and the Acropolis At the beginning, James defines himself in relation to the Acropolis.He is overawed and daunted by this renowned, exalted building perched on a somber rock and surrounded by tourists.He rationalises that he prefers to wander in a modern city, even though it might be imperfect and blaring compared with the beauty, dignity, order and proportion of the Acropolis.He personalises it as a monument to doomed expectations, as if its existence will confront him with his own inadequacy and the madness of the society around him.Like his peers, James constructs an elaborate sense of self-importance around him that he uses to conceal his loneliness and unhappiness.He is not the stuff of a typical fictional American hero, yet bit by bit he pulls down the construct around him and by the end seems to have seized control of his life.In order to do so, he has to learn from the tumultuous people and events around him.The Women in His Life“The Names” is not a sexually explicit novel, but it does bounce around in a slyly erotic manner.Over the course of the novel, James negotiates comfort from many of the women in his community, whether married or not.Of the women he flirts with, some appear to be good long term friends, some appear to be content with a Platonic attraction and one, Janet Ruffing, a banker’s wife and freelance belly dancer, he imposes himself on so insistently that I can’t think of any better word for it than rape.It is strange that this last relationship almost goes unremarked upon. If it had occurred in a Romansbildung of a much younger character, perhaps his conduct would have been excusable in the name of fiction.However, it is almost as if this rape is intended to symbolize a growing capacity to assert himself within his overall getting of wisdom.This, for me, is the one major, but inexplicable, failure of tone and sensitivity in the novel.Owen Brademas, Epigraphic Detective Perhaps the most important mentor for James is his wife, Kathryn’s, employer, an archeologist and epigrapher.In the twilight of his professional life, he is fascinated by language and its origins in marks, inscriptions, symbols, characters, letters and alphabets.He examines how these systems developed, almost as attempts to make a mark or impression on life, then as a method of recording details of grain, livestock, possessions and wealth.So language wasn’t just concerned with communication within a tribe, but was a major tool, a lingua franca, designed to facilitate trade and commerce between tribes.The Significance of LanguageTo enable communication, alphabets and words had to have commonly accepted meanings and significance.A sign must have a signifier and a signified.An image must have a connection that is commonly recognised.This recognition passes from person to person, but also from generation to generation.Images and words convey the memories of one generation to another generation.Language keeps alive memories and experiences and wisdom.Therefore, language became an important repository for social and cultural meaning.The Language of PowerLanguage has always been more than a vehicle for individual or personal expression.Like the Acropolis, language is a social construct that has its own beauty, dignity, order and proportion.Unlike the Acropolis, it is a vehicle for a dynamic relationship between people.Just as language connects people and things or people and other people, it defines, manages and controls the relationship between the two.It allows people to discover the world and, having done so, it allows them to relate to it.However, inevitably, the relationship involves elements of power, control and persuasion.Thus, it is the fundamental mechanism through which politics operates.Which means that it can be abused.Within mass society, language becomes an instrument of oppression.The Language of ReligionThis abuse extends beyond the civil sphere.Starting with the crucible of the Middle East, there is inevitably a role for language within spirituality and religion.It connects people and God. However, it also defines Good and Evil, and defines our relationship with them.We cannot engage with Good and Evil, except though the vehicle of language.It shapes and moulds our responses to moral issues, especially in emotional terms.Owen tells Kathryn:"Masses of people scare me. Religion. People driven by the same powerful emotion. All that reverence, awe and dread."And, as if by explanation, he states:"I’m a boy from the prairie."Like James in awe of the Acropolis, he believes he has a simple worldview. He’s self-contained and not given to surrendering his independence to the powers that be.He believes that you can lose your individuality in a crowd:"Was it a grace to be there, to lose oneself in the mortal crowd, surrendering, giving oneself over to mass awe, to disappearance in others?" Later on, Frank Volterra, a filmmaker who is captivated by and interested in filming Owen’s story, says:"It is religion that carries a language. The river of language is God."Language is a facility granted to us by God.By the same token, language is a container that holds and transmits that reverence, awe and dread.So, ultimately, language has positive and negative aspects.And “The Names” is DeLillo’s chosen vehicle for exploring them.Reducing Language to WritingSpoken language is just sounds. In order to speak or communicate, we must make a noise:"I liked the noise, the need to talk loud, to lean into people’s faces and enunciate."Yet, too much noise, too little order, too much randomness, and the noise becomes a cacophony of incomprehension.Language must be “subdued and codified” (again, the concept uses the language of power and control).DeLillo first uses this term when he reveals that Owen has been thinking of the English archaeologist Rawlinson, who wanted to copy and analyse the inscriptions on the Behistun Rock, which contained three separate languages, Old Persian, Elamite and Babylonian.This enterprise allows him to work at the level of meta-language.Until the stone is deciphered, until the code is broken, it is just a riddle.Rawlinson must apply intelligence to the task, in order to discover the intelligence within or at least on the surface of the rock.He cannot establish a connection with the past, he cannot create a community, until he has managed to decipher the code.Ironically, DeLillo ensures that all the time Owen is being watched by an intelligence community of one description or another, whether it is James or the CIA or the local security forces."All the noise and babble and spit of three spoken languages had been subdued and codified, broken down to these wedge-shaped marks. With his grids and lists the decipherer searches out relationships, parallel structures. What are the sign frequencies, the phonetic values? He wants a design that will make this array of characters speak to him."An Array of CharactersEarlier, Owen mentions that the word “character” comes from a Greek word, which means “to brand or to sharpen” or in the case of the noun “an engraving or branding instrument”.In English, he points out that the same word is used not just for a mark or symbol (like a letter in the alphabet), but a person in a story.You could extrapolate that those original marks or symbols might actually have represented real people.Interestingly, the same English word is used to describe the quality or characteristics of a person, their “character” and the “mark” they will make on the world.So language is a tool that enables us to tell stories, to create our own worlds and to populate them with people.In more advanced societies, story-telling takes the form of novels and film.Just as Rawlinson and Owen are trying to decipher riddles, the challenge for an author like DeLillo is to create “a design that will make this array of characters speak to him”.Frank Volterra follows in Owen’s footsteps, trying to make a film that will capture and describe the story.Fiction and film are designed to make a lasting impression, they are the wedge-shaped marks scratched out by this generation that future generations will examine to learn about us and themselves.Naming NamesAt the simplest level, the concept of the “Names” is that language consists of giving “names” to things or images or signs. But we need codes to understand the allocation of a name to a sign.Many of these codes were carved in stone, intended to last a thousand years.Just as these codes, when broken, reveal their meaning, we also learn that many of the inscriptions were codifications or codes of law and usage that were intended to regulate and manage trade and commerce.They supply guidance, directions and commandments as to how things should and must be done.Originally, they were primarily intended to work for the benefit of merchants and consumers.However, language took on a life of its own as a tool of power and control.You could even speculate that language is the power and control and that people are the vehicle it uses to achieve its purpose.The risk in all codes and laws is that they become too prescriptive and inflexible.They can ossify or, ironically given their origin, turn to stone.So there comes a point when the code attracts not awe, but resistance.A Cult Defying LanguageIn DeLillo’s hands, the resistance comes from a cult of fundamentalists.They see language as an instrument of oppression and they begin to attack it by killing people.Obviously, most people are the carriers of language, so if you murder someone you destroy their capacity to use language.Yet, this seems so arbitrary. It makes an enemy of everyone.Owen sets out to find “a pattern, order, some sort of unifying light” to explain their conduct.Owen and James discover that all of the victims are old and infirm, (almost) ready to die, some having lost their memory and therefore their connection with the past, themselves and those around them.Kathryn even speculates that the cult is sacrificing these people to God as a plea for divine intercession in a world that they believe has gone wrong.Perhaps, they are a doomsday cult trying to forestall doomsday?Occult PracticesOwen questions it, because he has met them and doubts whether they worship a divine being:"They weren’t a god-haunted people."They are interested in “letters, written symbols, fixed in sequence”.He suspects that they want to return to a simpler world, where symbols are purely derived from nature, where letters are mere pictographs representing only “everyday objects, animals, parts of the body”.Frank learns that they oppose the order of language, the way it has become both law and order:"The alphabet is male and female. If you know the correct order of letters, you make a world, you make creation. This is why they will hide the order. If you will know the combinations, you make all life and death."Take Your Name and PlaceJames learns that the cult chooses victims whose initials match the first letter of each word in a place-name."The letters match...Name. Place-name."They are placing people in the real world. Then killing them.The act of murder silences the victim. Owen learns from a former cult member:"When we came into the Mani [peninsula], we knew we would stay. What is here? This is the strength of the Mani. It does not suggest things to us. No gods, no history. The rest of the Peloponnese is full of associations. The Deep Mani, no. Only what is here. The rocks, the towers. A dead silence. A place where it is possible for men to stop making history. We are inventing a way out."A Cult with No NamesThe cult appears to be a genuine cult with no name. They will not reveal it to anyone.Ironically, James finds one incidence of where they have created their own marking.It’s a rock inscribed with the words “Ta Onomata”, which he suspects might be the name of the cult."Do you know what it means? “The Names”."They define themselves by the name of their enemy.By marking the name of the enemy on pottery and smashing it, they will bring about their enemy’s death. And perhaps their own."You...want to hurt your enemy, it is in history to destroy his name…the same harm [as if] you cut his throat." The Politics of Empire DeLillo treats language as a symbol of a process that subdues and codifies people.It can also have a special place in the subjugation of peoples, the politics of empire:"We can say of the Persians that they were enlightened conquerors…they preserved the language of the subjugated people. Is this the scientific face of imperialism? The humane face? Subdue and codify?"In the contemporary world, DeLillo’s subjects include “money, politics and force”, the topics of James’ reports and memos."For a long time, [Greek] politics have been determined by the interest of great powers. Now it is just the Americans who determine."Americans “learn comparative religion, economics of the Third World, the politics of oil, the politics of race and hunger”.They have learned that “power works best when it doesn’t distinguish friends from enemies.”Like language, this imperial approach is destined to attract resistance, in the form of terrorism.“The Names” was written at the time of the Iran hostage crisis in 1980.Terrorism has become more powerful and refined since then, but there is much in DeLillo’s novel that preempts both real world politics and the concerns of his future novels. Even James realises that, "If America is the world’s living myth, then the CIA is America’s myth."Ultimately, "The final enemy is government."The Coded Matters of IntimacyIf the novel was just concerned with global politics, it would be enough.However, DeLillo extends his gaze to personal and family relationships.James is no hero, but he does embark on a hero’s journey, learning from others and his own discoveries.It’s a collective effort that reconnects him to his family.When we first meet him, he is alienated, although nowadays we would probably diagnose him as depressed.Deep down he seems like quite a charmer, but he is a “reluctant adulterer” who has “an eye for his friends’ wives and his wife’s friends”, just two of “27 Depravities” he lists about himself.He has failed to pay attention, failed to concentrate, failed to focus, failed to treat his family seriously, he has lost the words needed to make a family life happen.Ultimately, as he learns about language, he rediscovers the language of love.But first he must acknowledge that he has made a mistake.Kathryn’s “every dissatisfaction, mild complaint, bitter grievance” was right, although it is amusing that he can only see this retrospectively.He can only acknowledge that Kathryn was “retroactively correct” (i.e., “she is right now, but I was right at the time.” I must try this out on my wife, F.M. Sushi, next time I apologise).Memorising the FutureThis retroactivity involves memory.Once again, James is influenced by Owen, who believes that memory is: "... the faculty of absolution. Men developed memories to ease their disquiet over things they did as men. The deep past is the only innocence and therefore necessary to retain."It is a reminder that we have been good and that we can be good again.Language is the beginning of doing good:"This is what love comes down to, things that happen and what we say about them."It’s not enough to be awestruck by the wonders of the world, because we will sometimes encounter what his nine-year old son, Tap, describes as something “worse than a retched nightmare. It was the nightmare of real things, the fallen wonder of the world.”James finds Tap’s mangled words exhilarating: "He made me see them new again, made me see how they worked, what they really were. They were ancient things, secret", [but most importantly] "reshapable".We have to add some love, some light, some colour of our own.Acropoliptic VisionWhen James finally conquers his fear of the Acropolis, this is what he has come to realise.There are crowds, tourists, families, none of them alone, making a noise, all speaking their own language, "one language after another, rich, harsh, mysterious, strong". "This is what we bring to the temple, not prayer or chant or slaughtered rams. Our offering is language."Ultimately, this is DeLillo's offering to us: language that is rich, harsh, mysterious, strong.

Michael Flick

This works better for me as a kind of travelogue--especially fine in conjuring up Athens--than as a novel. The narrator and the broad cast of characters are kept at a distance. That's because of the dialogue--and the novel is at least half dialogue--that is alien to the spoken word and uniform. You can't tell one character from another by they way they speak. It's like attending a lecture. Pedantic. Preachy. The only exception is the narrator's son, Tap, but he shows up in the last chapter sounding pretty much like everyone else.The narrator's wife and son fade as the novel progresses, and the cult-murder plot never really gets off the ground.It's wholly out of character when mid-way in the book the narrator rapes Janet Ruffing, an expatriate amateur belly dancer he barely meets. Very off-putting. Repellant. Incongruous.The "ugly American" in the Middle East theme is prescient. To say the least.The major themes concerning names and alphabets and language are drummed in at the end, but maybe too late. And without subtlety or any real depth.Read this for the powerful prose, not the dialogue.


First the positives - Delillo packs his 1982 novel with interesting fact / opinion on subjects such as the CIA, terrorism, multinationals and being an expat. Some of the descriptive passages are superb - marred slightly by what seems an attempt to avoid cliche by playing with grammatical form. It's my first Delillo and I've never finished a Hemingway. This book reminded me of Hemingway - the narrator / writer seems eager to remind us he's not only a heavyweight intellectual but he's macho too. Also, he has lots of friends - with the consequence that most of the characterisation is thin. I also find him excruciating on relationships / kids - but then maybe that's the point. The whole idea of writing a 'great novel' or 'great American novel' makes the writer seem 'try hard' I think. It's still a solid read though but for me it's more like a series of sketches that don't pull together and some are a lot better than others.

Mike Gilbert

Generally, I try to write my reviews closer to the completion of the book. Two things caused the delay this time: the holidays and more intriguingly, I did not know what to write. So, before I add another review for different book, I suppose I had better write something.Perhaps I should start with some facts to get me started.(1) This was my second time through this book.(2) I have read several of Delillo's novels, start with my English professor's recommendation for White Noise during college. That was a good - but not great novel. The same can be said of Mao II> and Cosmopolis. After The Names, I probably like them best in the order listed.(3) I left it in seat back pocket (8A) of a US Airways commuter flight to Boston and elected, a week later, to return to the bookstore a buy another copy. My plan to save money on books and reread some of my favorites was foiled by a 6:00 am flight.The best part of The Names is Delillo's language. The descriptions of Europe and the Middle East blend beautifully with his phenomenological rumination on language. As a frequent traveller, the flavor of airport idiosyncrasies and the murals foreign streets and cafés that provide the novel's backdrop immersed me in the world Delillo's world. Uncannily, much of the dinner conversation revolves around the dangers to Americans abroad. Coups in Africa. Hostages in Iran. On second thought, perhaps, it is uncanny that it has not changed in thirty years.This, I believe, is critical for the reader. The primary motion of the plot , after all, involving a cult of killers, seems so distant that I believe the reader needs this tie to bind the reading experience coherently. Perhaps travel - specifically as an American to the cradles of civilization from Greece to India - is a determining factor in a reader's opinion of the novel. There is quite a polarity of opinions in the reviews I read. This could be someone's Freshmen paper.I digress.Once one digests the story, and looks and the subtext, which may or may not be thinly veiled, hit has a beauty to it. It proves questions that turn in the reader's mind, both at a conscious and subconsciousevel. Are we merely our names? Is dasein (existence) the sum of Sein (Being)? Or is there something more, something transcendent? And if there is, does the brutality of the cult's actions, the symbolism in the violence wrought upon the person-place-name, bring them closer to breaking down the modern world's collapse of Heidegger's dichotomy? Have we rendered the spiritual obsolete; something that only a return to a more base existence can reinstate? Must you enjoy early 20th century philosophy to enjoy this book as well?Or perhaps, Delillo would tell us that the simplicity of a young boy's re-telling of life on dust bowl farm is all that one needs to regain their Sein.In either case, I think that in few years, this will require a third read.

Kristoff Tilkin

't Blijft een raadsel waarom er van Don DeLillo slechts mondjesmaat vertalingen verschijnen: sinds het fantastische trio 'Witte ruis' - 'Libra' - 'Mao II' geldt de Don namelijk als één van de topchroniqueurs van de American Dream en zijn uitwassen, en toch is alleen zijn magnum opus 'Onderwereld' uit 1997 nog in druk. Enfin: verwacht van ons geen waterdichte samenzweringstheorie, wij melden u liever het verschijnen van 'De namen' (Manteau), een meer dan geslaagde opstap naar 'Witte ruis' uit 1982.Verteller James Axton werkt overdag als risicoanalist voor een schimmig bedrijf, na de werkuren drinkt en filosofeert hij over politiek met andere expats ? bankiers, industriëlen en kaderpersoneel van multinationals die heen en weer pendelen tussen Karachi, Tripoli, Caïro, Beiroet of Amman, steden die volgens een van Axtons vrienden 'terroristische babyboxen (zijn) of anti-Amerikaans of het zijn gigantische lappen economische en sociale en politieke ravage.' Toch zijn ze zich hyperbewust van hun eigen rol in het kruitvat van het Midden-Oosten: 'Al dat bankieren, die technologieën en dat oliegeld veroorzaken een onbehaaglijke stroom door de regio, een ingewikkeld stel afhankelijkheden en angsten.'Terwijl Axtons huwelijk verkruimelt en zijn hoogbegaafde zoon van 'm vervreemdt, komen hij en archeoloog Owen Brademas in Athene een sekte op het spoor die zo nu en dan een oude of zieke bewoner van een afgelegen dorp vermoordt. Een motief lijkt te ontbreken, en dat confronteert Axton en Brademas met hun angsten, waaronder de diepgewortelde (en volgens DeLillo op en top Amerikaanse) angst om anoniem te sterven: 'Het vooruitzicht verontrustte hem dat de media niet zouden berichten over de opstand of terreurdaad waarbij hij zou omkomen.' Het duo raakt geobsedeerd door de sekte en reist de leden achterna, in de hoop hun code te kraken. Die ziekelijke neiging van mensen om patronen te ontdekken in de chaos van alledag is trouwens een rode draad in het oeuvre van DeLillo (én in 'Zwerm' van Peter Verhelst). Voor Owen is het zelfs een manier van overleven: 'Ik heb het gevoel dat ik tegen mezelf beschermd ben zolang er in de tastbare wereld een toevallig patroon valt waar te nemen.'Flitsende actiescènes hoeft de lezer in 'De namen' niet te verwachten, de kracht van de roman zit 'm eerder in de gesprekken tussen Axton en zijn ex, zijn kennissen en minnaressen, en in de rake typeringen over de samenleving. Zo verpulvert DeLillo het idee dat de globalisering van de wereld een dorp maakt: 'Wat is de wereld toch groot. (?) Met elk feit dat we erover te weten komen, wordt hij groter. (?) Het is één en al verwikkeling. Het is één gigantische kluwen.' In dat opzicht is 'De namen' ook een roman over onbehagen - het onbehagen van de late seventies en de vroege eighties, toen de world as they knew it op losse schroeven kwam te staan, getuige de vele naamsveranderingen: Perzië werd Iran, Rhodesië werd Zimbabwe, Congo werd Zaïre. En de roman is na twintig jaar nog niks verouderd, want sinds nine eleven en de war on terror is er alweer een waslijst aan zekerheden onderuitgehaald ? om er één bij naam te noemen: wat vroeger 'vrijheidsstrijder' heette, heet tegenwoordig steevast 'terrorist'.Mogen wij tot slot DeLillo's Nederlandse uitgever vriendelijk verzoeken om ál zijn boeken in druk te houden, zodat wij ons zendelingenwerk bij jongere vrienden en kennissen jaar in jaar uit onverstoord kunnen voortzetten? Dank!


blogged about it here:


I stopped trying to figure out what DeLillo was getting at with language, words, and the titular names about halfway through. Something about a cult that's killing people in an attempt to erase modern language from the world. Yes, it's important, and yes, I feel a little dumb for not really grasping it. But as with Gravity's Rainbow, I think a first read of The Names should be about just getting the gist of the thing. It's a dense, maddeningly obscure book at times, and I found a deep read to be an exercise in frustration.What I loved about the book was its long, drunken, nighttime conversations held by its ex-pat characters. Often funny, always bizarre, the dialogue never latches onto a single subject, instead flowing between topics like the red wine fueling it. Or the vicious passive-aggressive banter between the protagonist and his wife. Or the gibberish language spoken by his son. When characters talk, the book is at its best. But then there's also the many poetic descriptions of Greek cities, the hallucinatory Indian desert sequence, the wonderful evocations of life in a foreign country. And one incredible final chapter. There's so much to admire here that understanding it all isn't even important.

Aidan Watson-Morris

its couple of noticeable flaws mar a masterful novel, but ambition necessitates risk. in many ways anticipates the airtight white noise.


The Names by Don DeLillo is a fascinating but somewhat fuzzy book. Set primarily in Greece, it tells the story of James Axton, an American who develops risk analyses, those odd-sounding reports used by international investors and insurers. When the book was published in 1982, would readers have suspected that Axton worked for the CIA? It was the first thing I thought of.But Axton's work is only a part of this intricate story about language, alphabets, secrecy, and cultural identity. See the rest of my review here

Scott Gates

“A shaved head would do wonders for this group.”Parts of The Names read like a tract of linguistic idealism. One of the characters, Owen Brademas, (who is obsessed with alphabets, the shape of words, and a cult that kills people based on their initials’ matching place names) posits that ancient structures were erected, tombs built, in order to have a place for the words. “The river of language is God,” he says, which is pretty close to Nietzsche’s “Without grammar, God is not possible” (or was it the other way around?).Lurking throughout the book is the Wittgenstein-ish idea that there is no meaning behind words or events but just the speaking of the words themselves, an act itself. The same character referenced above wants to run the hadj (yes, how Western) in spite of the fact that he does not believe in God. Belief is irrelevant, it’s the act that counts etc. etc. I guess that’s pretty much standard existentialism, isn’t it.More so than in any other Delillo novel, it doesn’t matter at all who is saying any given thing. There are a lot of different characters, and a fair amount of time is spent making clear who is who, yet each is wholly defined by the comments he/she makes over drinks. I think this was done purposely. Late in the book the narrator concludes that when people visit a sacred place, the main thing they have to offer is language. And this is for sure the most talk-ridden Delillo book. "Americans choose strategy over principle every time and yet keep believing in their own innocence. . . . The Americans learned to live with the colonels very well. Investments flourished under the dictatorship." The usual story of the US stomping out democratic uprisings and supporting ruthless militants when it serves its interests (i.e., when the leader will do whatever the US wants).So there’s some real prescient stuff on the way world hates the US. The narrator (to alleviate guilt?) talks of the US’s position in the world in mythic terms, with the US serving as a needed archetype for the rest of the world’s fears. The characters in The Names are risk analysts, investors, economists, actuaries, spies, operatives; aloof from the turmoil and grievances of the regions they’re involved in, they dabble in them and move on. They scout out places of political turmoil and violence to see if corporations’ investments are safe; they have interesting conversations over dinner. They hoard rugs for profit and talk about the interesting things that happened to them the last time they were in Tehran. Kind of repulsive.But these people are offset by the borderline lunatics of the book: the narrator, James Axton, and Owen Brademas. In literature, as often in life, it’s best to support the lunatics. It’s clear Delillo does. These two concoct whole other narratives for the regions they visit, and while maintaining your usual Delilloan ironclad grip on clear thought they push their thinking to out-of-bounds places. There is the tendency to draw profound conclusions from pretty much anything phenomena throws at them. “Everything is connected.”When Delillo’s name is on a book you can bet your ass the writing will often be astounding. Throughout, often when you don’t see it coming, the writing will reach a crazy pitch. Plus the structure of The Names is just weird. It makes you feel as if you’re not quite thinking about it the right way, and that if you did you’d see the book differently.

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