The Prague Orgy

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When I first visited Prague in November 1995, the ghostly presence of the Cold War seemed to linger in the wintry setting, the quiet streets after dark, and the strange shuffling, secretive habits of the owner of the apartment I was renting. And yet it was also very much apart from a decade earlier, when Philip Roth published The Prague Orgy (1985) and the Cold War was in the middle of a charged resurgence. I recently re-read this book and felt not nostalgia but horror. Imagine an era of secret police, disappearances, authoritarian power and personal fear. Yes, it hasn’t entirely gone away from the world at large (Russia, China, Iran) – even if Wenceslas Square is now a place of tourism and high street shopping.

In this novella, Roth continues with the character of Nathan Zuckerman, a successful America novelist and protagonist of three earlier works of fiction (The Ghost Writer [1979], Zuckerman Unbound [1981], The Anatomy Lesson [1984]). The setting is 1976. Zuckerman agrees to go to Prague to retrieve the unknown books of a “great Jewish writer that might have been” (p.26) – on behalf of the mysterious author's exiled son, Zdenek Sisovsky. There he will meet Sisovky’s wife, Olga, also a writer, and a notorious character. 

The second chapter opens at the house of Klenek, a film director who gathers a bohemian crowd (whether he is present or not). “Come to the orgy, Zuckerman – you will see the final stage of the revolution” (p.29). This scene, and others like it in the short novel, is full of sharp, witty dialogue – intentionally obscene, as if talk of sex is the only freedom left (or a metaphor for some other form of exploitation and release). In any case, Zuckerman fails to retrieve the manuscript and experiences temporary terror at the hands of state police, followed by a bizarre conversation with the Minister of Culture, and a rapid exit for “Zuckerman the Zionist agent” (p.88).

This short summary has been surprisingly hard to write. Either I have left it a little too long after reading, or the novel itself is so sharp as to render commentary supercilious. A paragraph from the penultimate page might be better than attempting a final gloss. Novak is the Minister of Culture mentioned above, and Zuckerman is reflecting on their unexpected exchange before his release.

I also have to wonder if Novak’s narrative is any less an invention than Sisovksy’s. The true Czech patriate to whom the land owes its survival may well be another character out of mock-autobiography, yet another fabricated father manufactured to serve the purposes of a storytelling son. As if the core of existence isn’t fantastic enough, still more fabulation to embellish the edges (p.88).

Even in the best of times, what can any writer do than embellish the edges?

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