Wednesday, December 09, 2009

Striking opening lines

Like John Steinbeck's Cannery Row, I found some striking opening lines of novels. The first one hit me like a slap when I first read it. Camus brings you face to face with his character immediately. I haven't obviously read all of these, but the first lines promise much.


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Mother died today. Or maybe yesterday, I don't know.
- Albert Camus, The Stranger.


It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen.
-Geroge Orwell, 1984

Lolita, the light of my life, the fire of my loins.
-Vladimir Nobokov, Lolita.

Erendira was bathing her grandmother when the wind of her misfortune began to blow. The enormous mansion of moonlike concrete lost in the solitude of the desert trembled down to its foundation with the first attack. But Erendira and her grandmother were used to the risks of the wild nature there, and in the bathroom decorated with a series of peacocks and childish mosaics of Roman baths they scarcely paid any attention to the caliber of the wind.
The grandmother, naked and huge in the marble tub, looked like a handsome whale. The grand-daughter had just turned 14 and was languid, soft-boned, and too meek for her age.
- Gabriel Gárcia Marquez, The Incredible and Sad Tale of Innocent Erendira and Her Heartless Grandmother

He was an old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eight-four days now without taking a fish.
- Ernest Hemingway, The Old Man and the Sea.

I am an invisible man. No, I am not a spook like those who haunted Edgar Allan Poe; nor am I one of your Hollywood-movie ectoplasms. I am a man of substance, of flesh and bone, fiber and liquids—and I might even be said to possess a mind. I am invisible, understand, simply because people refuse to see me. Like the bodiless heads you see sometimes in circus sideshows, it is as though I have been surrounded by mirrors of hard, distorting glass. When they approach me they see only my surroundings, themselves, or figments of their imagination—indeed, everything and anything except me.
- Ralph Ellison, Invisible Man


Courtesy: icarus.townhill.com
They're out there. Black boys in white suits up before me to commit sex acts in the hall and get it mopped up before I can catch them.
- Ken Kesey, One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest

An ash-gray dog with a white blaze on its forehead burst on to the rought terrain of the market on the first Sunday in December, knocked down tables of fried food, overturned Indians stalls and lottery kiosks, and bit four people who happened to cross its path. Three of them were black slaves. The fourth, Sierva Maria de Todos los Angeles, the only child of Marquis de Casalduero, had come there with a mullata servant to buy a string of bells for the celebration of her twelfth birthday.
- Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Of Love and Other Demons


It was the best of times, it was the worst of times; it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness; it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity; it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness; it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair; we had everything before us, we had nothing before us; we were all going directly to Heaven, we were all going the other way.
- Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two cities

As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into a gigantic insect.

- Franz Kafka, The Metamorphosis

Many years later, as he faced the firing squad, General Aureliano Buendia was to remember that distant afternoon when his father took him to discover ice.

- Gabriel Gárcia Marquez, 100 Years of Solitude


"Who is John Galt?"
- Ayn, Rand, Atlas Shrugged

Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way
- Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina


"If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you'll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don't feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth."
- JD Salinger, Catcher in the Rye

It was inevitable: The scent of bitter almonds always reminded him of the fate of unrequited love.
- Gabriel Gárcia Marquez, Love in the time of Cholera

"Yes, Sir. Certainly, it was I who found the body. This morning, as usual, I went to cut my daily quota of cedars, when I found the body in a grove in a hollow in the mountains."
- Ryūnosuke Akutagawa,In A Grove (made into Rashomon by Akira Kurosawa)

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife."

- Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice

They say when trouble comes, close ranks and so the white people did.
- Jean Rhys, Wide Sargasso Sea

Which of these do you find the most striking to open the book? If you know of more, do write in.

11 comments:

anjali said...

Yeah. Reminds me of Albert Camus’ The Outsider. It was great in many ways. Leo Tolstoy’s All happy...line is also a haunting start to Anna Karenina. I still feel close to Anna. I like Dostoyevsky’s opening lines too. I also remember Marathi poet Grace’s "It might be lonelier without loneliness" and "When you have finished with others, thats my time" in his works. And Gulzar’s "The shortest long story of my life.". We feel connected with any form of literature just because of their opening lines. Very true.

Devdan Mitra said...

Some more.
One of my favourites: "Ours is a tragic age, so we refuse to take it tragically." Lady Chatterley's Lover.

"Call me Ishmael." Moby Dick

"It was bright cold day in April and the clocks were striking thirteen." 1984, which incidentally also has a great ending. "He loved Big Brother".

Another of my favourites. "A small dusty man in a small dusty room." Alistair Maclean's brilliant The Dark Crusader. It also ends with, "... Thats how I left him there, a small dusty man in a small dusty room." They dont pen books like that any longer!

Unknown said...

I have always liked the one from Rebecca (though not in the same league as some of the above) and the movie starts with that line too "Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again"

"Petrograd stank of Carbolic Acid" - We the Living - Ayn Rand

Not the opening line, but the opening paragraph in War of the Worlds - my feeble memory does not permit me to quote it.

Poetry - "let us go then, you and I when the evening is laid out against the sky like a patient etherized upon the table" - Prufrock

Arthur Koestler - Darknesss at noon

The cell door slammed behind Rubashov.

samya said...
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samya goswami said...

My favourite: Gunter Grass's The Tin Drum.

"Granted: I am an inmate of a mental hospital; my keeper is watching me, he never lets me out of his sight. There's a peephole in the door,and my keeper's eye is the shade of brown that can never see through a blue-eyed type like me."

samya goswami said...

Here's another one from Wole Soyinka's blazing poem: Funeral, Sermon, Soweto.

"We wish to bury our dead. Now a funeral
Is a many-cultured thing. Some races would
rope a heifer to the slaughterhouse stone,or
Goat/ram/pig or humble cockerel,
Monochrome or striped, spotted, seamless-
The soothsayer rules the aesthetics or,
Rank and circumstance of the dear deceased,
Market rates may ruin devout intentions,
Times austere are known to sanction disrespect,
Spill thinner blood than wished. Still,
Flow it must. Rank tunnels of transition
Must be greased, the bolt of passage loosened,
Home-brewed beer or smuggler's brands, prestigious,
Froth and slosh with ostentation, belch
In discreet bubbles like embarrassed mourners
At the wake. The dead record no disavowal.

Crosscourt Winner said...

Satish, your post just rekindled my literary interest. Some poems immediately came to my mind. I searched the net for the exact wordings. Here:

Because I could not stop for Death –
He kindly stopped for me
- by Emily Dickinson

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever
- John Keats

If music be the food of love, play on,
Give me excess of it; that surfeiting,
The appetite may sicken, and so die.
- from Twelfth Night, by William Shakespeare

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies
- Lord Byron

Grow old along with me!
The best is yet to be,
The last of life, for which the first was made
- Robert Browning

Of Man's first disobedience, and the fruit
Of that forbidden tree whose mortal taste
Brought death into the World
- Paradise Lost by John Milton

Death be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not so ...

and ends with the following lines

One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.
- by John Donne

Journomuse said...

As usual if I were given the chance, I'd fill this place up with enough opening lines for a blog of my own..but then my favourite books are back home..but theres one I read recently that stuck with me...

My History Teacher went to the pub at lunchtime. You could smell the beer on his breath. History in the morning was irritable and short tempered. it was no wonder there were so many war and witchburnings. But after lunch the history of Britain became suffused with a genial bonhomie and a slightly blurred sense of goodwill to all men


- An Utterly Impartial History of Britain or 2000 years of Upper Class Idiots in Charge - John O'Farrell ( Highly Recommended)

anjali said...

I am nothing but a corpse now,a body at the bottom of a well....
Orhan Pamuk.(MY NAME IS RED)

SureshNair said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Suresh Nair said...


I intensely disliked my father's fifth wife, but not to the point of murder... DICK FRANCIS/HOT MONEY

My name isn't salmon, like the fish; first name, Susie. I was fourteen when I was murdered on December 6, 1973.... ALICE SEBOLD/THE LOVELY BONES

Ellis Hock's wife gave him a new phone for his birthday. A smart phone, she said. "And guess what?" She had a coy, ham actress way of offering presents., often pausing with a needy wink to get his full attention. "It's going to change your life." Hock smiled because he was turning 62, not an age of life-altering shocks but only of subtle diminishments... PAUL THEROUX/THE LOWER RIVER