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Ubik por Philip K. Dick
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Ubik (original 1969; edição 2004)

por Philip K. Dick (Autor), Manuel Espín (Tradutor)

MembrosCríticasPopularidadeAvaliação médiaMenções
6,5261271,134 (4)155
Glen Runciter is dead. Or is he? Someone died in the explosion orchestrated by his business rivals, but even as his funeral is scheduled, his mourning employees are receiving bewildering messages from their boss. And the world around them is warping and regressing in ways which suggest that their own time is running out. If it hasn't already.… (mais)
Membro:marzagao
Título:Ubik
Autores:Philip K. Dick (Autor)
Outros autores:Manuel Espín (Tradutor)
Informação:Ediciones Urano (2004), Edition: Translation, 272 pages
Colecções:A sua biblioteca
Avaliação:**
Etiquetas:Nenhum(a)

Pormenores da obra

Ubik por Philip K. Dick (1969)

Adicionado recentemente porGlopes, ElAlce, llibresantjoan, ameen2, CMOBrien, biblioteca privada, crussi84, CesarBustios, RaulGonzalo
Bibliotecas LegadasTerence Kemp McKenna
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Inglês (109)  Francês (8)  Espanhol (4)  Italiano (3)  Holandês (1)  Húngaro (1)  Alemão (1)  Todas as línguas (127)
Mostrando 1-5 de 127 (seguinte | mostrar todos)
A twisted San Junipero ( )
  Caleb67 | Aug 23, 2021 |
4.5ish ( )
  MagpieBricolage | Jul 17, 2021 |
Well, damn. I think this was the quickest I've gotten through a Dick novel, and I'm not sure what to think of it. The speed, not the book. I loved the book.

Look, I love Philip K. Dick. I frequently joke with students and colleagues that I'm going to form a religion based on his writings, and I'm not half joking. I've actually thought about how I would do this, from writing down all declarative sentences in each novel, with each novel's compression equalling a book in new holy text. There are 44 novels, more than the Protestant bible, and I dare say mine would be more interesting. I don't know what I'd do with the short stories, however. Maybe psalms?

I think part of the subconscious reasoning behind my "joke" is the fact that all of Dick's novels seem to have to do with religion anyway-- or they are at least metaphysical in nature, dealing as they so often do with perception and reality. [b:Ubik|22590|Ubik|Philip K. Dick|http://d.gr-assets.com/books/1327995569s/22590.jpg|62929] is no different, and is perhaps the least "scientific" of Dick's novels. The central characters are all psychics of various kinds, though this is like so much of the details of Dick's writing beside the point. What the book really seems to be about is the essence of existence, what happens when between life and death, and how (or if) we can even tell the difference. I suppose, in a sense, Dick writes the same story over and over again, only with different MacGuffins.

As always, I hesitated in giving this novel five stars. If Dick's greatest novel is [b:Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep|7082|Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?|Philip K. Dick|http://d.gr-assets.com/books/1327865673s/7082.jpg|830939], as I think it is, and that is five stars, how can this one also be? Of course, my relative enjoyment and appreciation of this or any book can't be in comparison of any other, but I do tend to think that way. Unlike most Dick novels, there was even a point late in the reading when I felt a discernible sense of disappointment. Certainly, the "soft" nature of the science in this fiction contributed to that. But then, the best science fiction in my view is the kind that places the world before you and doesn't attempt to explain how things are different. Dick, in fact, rarely bothers. At times, it almost seems he doesn't care too much if the tropes of science fiction present in his novels hold up-- by that I mean, [b:Ubik|22590|Ubik|Philip K. Dick|http://d.gr-assets.com/books/1327995569s/22590.jpg|62929] takes place in what is obviously meant to be the future, but much like Orwell, Dick didn't bother to put it too far into the future. Not even thirty years. It's strange, at times, when you realize that you're reading a book about a future world that takes place in 1992, twenty-one years in the our past.

Ultimately, however, my disappointment faded as I remembered that Dick is no dogmatist. His books don't serve the expectations of science fiction as a genre, those expectations provide the backdrop for his books. Never does Dick attempt to explain the science behind the psychic "talents" the characters in [b:Ubik|22590|Ubik|Philip K. Dick|http://d.gr-assets.com/books/1327995569s/22590.jpg|62929] have (but rarely use), or the science that allows other characters to exist in a kind of cryogenically-frozen "half-life". Nor does he need too, because this isn't the point. They simply can, and do, and besides he has a story to tell, ideas to explore. In [b:Ubik|22590|Ubik|Philip K. Dick|http://d.gr-assets.com/books/1327995569s/22590.jpg|62929], he does so with great humor (the ad copy that prefaces each chapter are hysterical and get more so as the novel progresses), and the character of Joe Chip, like Rick Deckard and so many others, is just so downtrodden but likable. That goes a long way in my book. What goes even farther is the fact that, yet again, Dick gives me a premise that I'll undoubtedly chew on for days to come. This time, it's the idea that all forms of advancement, be they technological or social, contain within them images of past iterations, so that the advance form draws on the early one. We see this literally when cars revert to older models, sociologically when attitudes toward race and global politics revert to more narrow-mindedness (at least to this progressive reader), and metaphorically when the cure-all Ubik reverts to other forms of snake oil.

What I really love is that, having completed the book, I have a sense of what is going on under the surface, but I haven't figured it out completely, not just yet. In that way, reading Dick is like having a good meal, but not eating to over-full. Rather, I now can look forward to feeling sated, and begin to digest. That will always get five stars in my book. ( )
  allan.nail | Jul 11, 2021 |
"I am called Ubik, but that is not my name. I am. I shall always be."

Wow. How I overlooked this book for so long, I don't understand. It is an amazing work, a dark and stormy night of the soul, no doubt, and I have two threads of thought about it as I stare at the closed book I just finished.

The first starts with simple comparison; if Vonnegut's "Slaughterhouse-Five" is an absurd, darkly-humorous scramble of time and reality, "Ubik" is a grim rumination on reality as a construct beyond our control. As the pace and intensity mount over second half of the novel, the lurking fear of alienation and dislocation become a palpable presence that can follow you around the neighborhood. Living in the current dystopia of 2020, it is easy to wonder what lurks behind the appearances of real life. The USA of 1969 in which Dick wrote "Ubik" must have seemed as hallucinogenic and malignant to him, to imagine such conscious manipulation occurring.

The second is a set of "Aha!" moments, in which Tad Williams' "Otherland" comes into a clearer focus. TW's "Sprootie" and "The Other/Lord Set" are pretty much riffs on Ubik and, [no spoilers] here, if played out differently. It is certainly easier to sleep at night having read of Otherland's uber-VR than Dick's world of RL and "half-life"; in TW's net, the characters but for Jonas know they're in a simworld, but characters in "Ubik" don't know where they stand. Nightmare times, indeed.

This is a top-shelfer, to go on a read-again rotation. But not too often. ( )
1 vote MLShaw | Jun 17, 2021 |
I've not read a lot of Dick's books, so getting used to the writing style was difficult. At times it can be a bit loose and difficult to keep track of, particularly with several of the characters all once in a pretty alien space. It was tough to slog through the initial portion of the book, and consequently I spent a pretty good bit of time trying to make more sense of what was going on more than really being all that engaged with the characters.

About halfway to three-quarters of the way through the book, things really begin to tighten up as major plotpoints evolve and the real core of the story and the situation reveal themselves. What began as a pretty campy sci-fi text turned into a pretty crazy existential mess about death and life in a fictional world. ( )
  theothergarypowell | May 20, 2021 |
Mostrando 1-5 de 127 (seguinte | mostrar todos)

» Adicionar outros autores (28 possíveis)

Nome do autorPapelTipo de autorObra?Estado
Dick, Philip K.autor principaltodas as ediçõesconfirmado
Adams, MarcArtista da capaautor secundárioalgumas ediçõesconfirmado
Bishop, MichaelIntroduçãoautor secundárioalgumas ediçõesconfirmado
Boca, LaIlustradorautor secundárioalgumas ediçõesconfirmado
Daniels, LukeNarradorautor secundárioalgumas ediçõesconfirmado
Dorémieux, AlainTradutorautor secundárioalgumas ediçõesconfirmado
Espín, ManuelTradutorautor secundárioalgumas ediçõesconfirmado
Frick, JohanTradutorautor secundárioalgumas ediçõesconfirmado
Heald, AnthonyNarradorautor secundárioalgumas ediçõesconfirmado
Jones, PeterArtista da capaautor secundárioalgumas ediçõesconfirmado
Langowski, JürgenTradutorautor secundárioalgumas ediçõesconfirmado
Laux, RenateTradutorautor secundárioalgumas ediçõesconfirmado
Lem, StanislawPosfácioautor secundárioalgumas ediçõesconfirmado
Martin, AlexanderTradutorautor secundárioalgumas ediçõesconfirmado
Moisan, ChristopherDesigner da capaautor secundárioalgumas ediçõesconfirmado
Moore, ChrisArtista da capaautor secundárioalgumas ediçõesconfirmado
Pagetti, CarloTradutorautor secundárioalgumas ediçõesconfirmado
Podaný, RichardTradutorautor secundárioalgumas ediçõesconfirmado
Rauch, PeterArtista da capaautor secundárioalgumas ediçõesconfirmado
Robertson, IanArtista da capaautor secundárioalgumas ediçõesconfirmado
Robinson, Kim StanleyIntroduçãoautor secundárioalgumas ediçõesconfirmado
Smith, Michael MarshallIntroduçãoautor secundárioalgumas ediçõesconfirmado
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At three-thirty A.M. on the night of June 5, 1992, the top telepath in the Sol System fell off the map in the offices of Runciter Associates in New York City.
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Glen Runciter is dead. Or is he? Someone died in the explosion orchestrated by his business rivals, but even as his funeral is scheduled, his mourning employees are receiving bewildering messages from their boss. And the world around them is warping and regressing in ways which suggest that their own time is running out. If it hasn't already.

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