My Spanish Literature Month journey has landed me in Chile
and I am stopping here for a little while longer, visiting the short stories of
Alejandro Zambra, the collection “My Documents” published by Fitzcarraldo
Editions and translated by the same translator as “Seeing Red” by Lina Meruane,
Megan McDowell, who has also translated Zambra’s books “The Private Life of
Trees” and “Ways of Going Home” and the forthcoming “Multiple Choice”.
Every so often I come across a writer whose language
personally clicks with me, a writer where every sentence just seems to
seamlessly flow, where the pages easily turn and I suddenly realise I’ve been
reading for hours and have finished the book!!! This collection of short
stories fits that bill. 223 pages knocked over in one sitting.
A collection of eleven short stories it opens with the title
work, “My Documents” and it reads like an autobiography;
Mass was held in the gymnasium of
a convent school, Master Purissima; people always talked, though, about the
church building that was in the works, and it was like they were describing a
dream. It took so long to build that by the time it was finished, I no longer
believed in God.
“Camilo” is a story of a godson, soccer fanaticism, living
in Chile under Pinochet, family bonds, maturing and forgiveness. A very moving
piece indeed. Only two stories into the collection and I’m thinking that the
endings are exquisite, they are powerful explosions that linger well after you’ve
finished the tale.
We have wonderfully real characters, including the late
night call centre worker who reads literature (as there is little else to do
whilst waiting for the phone to ring) and teaches letter writing to mature aged
students on the side. Or the story of a relationship told through the lifespan
of a PC, in the story “Memories of a Personal Computer”. An all too realistic
tale of how technology has encroached on our lives, filled with nostalgia and
the past where pen and paper and unedited texts prevailed.
The personal connection came hitting home in the story “I
smoked very well”, as an ex-smoker myself the angst, futility, addiction all
rang true, so much so I just have to refer all my smoker or ex-smoker friends
to this short story:
What for a smoker is non-fiction,
for a non-smoker is fiction. That majestic story by Julio Ramón Ribeiro, for
example, about the smoker who desperately jumps out the window to rescue a pack
of cigarettes, and who, years later, very ill, his wife keeping a vigilant
watch over him, escapes to the beach every day to unearth, with the skill of an
anxious puppy, the pack of cigarettes he has hidden in the sand. Non-smokers
don’t understand these stories. They think they’re exaggerated; they read them
cavalierly. A smoker, on the other hand, treasures them.
The anti-hero comes to the fore in the story “Family Life”,
where a house sitter tells a simple lie, has to live with the untruth and as
the date of the house owner’s return comes nearer the tension increases
exponentially, I found myself holding my breath as my concern for the
lie-teller was becoming a reality.
As this is Spanish Literature Month, I think it is only
fitting that a poem by Enrique Lihn, about Madrid, appears in the story “I
Smoked Very Well”;
I don’t know what the hell I’m
doing here
Old, tired, sick, and thoughtful.
The Spanish I was spawned with
Father of so many literary vices
and from which I cannot free myself
many have brought me to this city
to make me suffer what I deserve:
a soliloquy in a dead language.
Old, tired, sick, and thoughtful.
The Spanish I was spawned with
Father of so many literary vices
and from which I cannot free myself
many have brought me to this city
to make me suffer what I deserve:
a soliloquy in a dead language.
A number of the stories are dedicated to well known “celebrities”
including a number of writers, Natalia García, Alejandra Costamagna, Marcelo
Montecinos, Álvaro Enrigue, Valeria Luiselli, Gonzalo Maier, Paula Canal, with
the whole collection dedicated to Chilean long jumper Josefina Gutiérrez. These
dedications revealing not only a solid nationalist streak, but also a
connection to likeminded writers, even if it is just because they love a
cigarette!!!
A collection of stories that are cemented in the real, and although musing on grand subjects each one becomes a reality that could well occur to the reader. A very refreshing read away from some of the convoluted plots that sometimes land on my reading desk, the smaller minutiae of daily existence celebrated with aplomb.
If you want a taste of the collection here are two of the
included stories available online.
“The Most Chilean Man in the World” (under a slightly
different title here)
“Camilo” appeared in The New Yorker here
And an interview with Alejandro Zambra about the short story
“Camilo” appeared here.
Despite a couple of typos in the text, and two disconcerting
instances where sentences were duplicated, this is a masterful example of the
art of the short story, engaging characters, plausible plots, realist settings
and wonderful endings. Blurring autobiography, essay and fiction I found all of
these stories thoroughly engaging. At times collections can be uneven, I can
assure you that it is not the case here. Another writer to add to my
“favourites” pile and one to search out further works (I already have a copy of
his newest release “Multiple Choice” in the mail and am thinking, if it arrives
before the end of the month, that I’ll have a review up here soon).
1 comment:
I loved the first Zambra I read but found the second one too spare and cutesy writing-wise. This one sounds like a return to form. Anyway, enjoying your layover in Chile!
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