Take a photo of a barcode or cover
3.46 AVERAGE
3.46 AVERAGE
slow-paced
adventurous
challenging
emotional
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated
4,5
Moeilijk in te komen, zeker als je het eerste stuk niet direct achter elkaar leest. Vooral omdat de vertelstemmen zoveel met elkaar gemeen hebben en het onderscheid (met opzet; de stemmen zijn slechts door een asterisk van elkaar gescheiden) soms moeilijk te maken is.
Doorzetten loont de moeite; het verhaal zit goed in elkaar.
Er zijn volgens mij drie vertelstemmen: De vrouwelijke schrijver (heeft een zoontje, baby en echtgenoot) schrijft een boek over een vrouwelijke schrijver (die vroeger de gedichten van Geribaldo Owen wilde vertalen) die een roman schrijft waarin Geribaldo Owen zelf aan het woord is. Of schrijft Geribaldo Owen een boek over een vrouw die een boek schrijft over een vrouw die een boek schrijft over zijn leven? Hoe dan ook, aan het begin van 'Faces in the crowd' zijn de vrouwelijke schrijfsters meer aan het woord, naarmate het boek vordert is Gilberto Owen meer en meer aan het woord terwijl hij zelf verdwijnt...
Dit is zo'n verhaal dat je eigenlijk nogmaals zou moeten lezen, omdat je steeds het gevoel hebt dat je de samenhang nét mist. De vraag is of de verhalen bij herlezing 100% op elkaar aansluiten of dat juist het feit dat het allemaal bijna klopt maar ook weer niet (á la David Lynch en Roberto Bolaño) je als lezer het gevoel geeft dat een deel van de diepere laag en de samenhang ontgaat maar wel aanwezig is.
Een horizontaal verhaal verticaal verteld. Valeria Luiselli, ik houd van je.
Moeilijk in te komen, zeker als je het eerste stuk niet direct achter elkaar leest. Vooral omdat de vertelstemmen zoveel met elkaar gemeen hebben en het onderscheid (met opzet; de stemmen zijn slechts door een asterisk van elkaar gescheiden) soms moeilijk te maken is.
Doorzetten loont de moeite; het verhaal zit goed in elkaar.
Er zijn volgens mij drie vertelstemmen: De vrouwelijke schrijver (heeft een zoontje, baby en echtgenoot) schrijft een boek over een vrouwelijke schrijver (die vroeger de gedichten van Geribaldo Owen wilde vertalen) die een roman schrijft waarin Geribaldo Owen zelf aan het woord is. Of schrijft Geribaldo Owen een boek over een vrouw die een boek schrijft over een vrouw die een boek schrijft over zijn leven? Hoe dan ook, aan het begin van 'Faces in the crowd' zijn de vrouwelijke schrijfsters meer aan het woord, naarmate het boek vordert is Gilberto Owen meer en meer aan het woord terwijl hij zelf verdwijnt...
Dit is zo'n verhaal dat je eigenlijk nogmaals zou moeten lezen, omdat je steeds het gevoel hebt dat je de samenhang nét mist. De vraag is of de verhalen bij herlezing 100% op elkaar aansluiten of dat juist het feit dat het allemaal bijna klopt maar ook weer niet (á la David Lynch en Roberto Bolaño) je als lezer het gevoel geeft dat een deel van de diepere laag en de samenhang ontgaat maar wel aanwezig is.
Een horizontaal verhaal verticaal verteld. Valeria Luiselli, ik houd van je.
Perhaps it lost something in translation. I know the book was supposed to be obscure/confusing in parts, but the language...was just not clear. And the concept was poorly fleshed out, which again may be due to translation.
challenging
dark
reflective
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated
reflective
sad
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
challenging
reflective
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
I'm glad this book got some publicity from the Best Translated Book Awards. I'll be chasing down Luiselli's other translated work ASAP. Here, my favorite bits are from the present-day domestic story, where the biting humor really hits hard. But the other historical moments are great as well, making for a delightful whole.
2.5/5
A while back, some folks got together to submit a document full of academicalized nonsense to various scientific journals, some of which accepted the garbled, highfalutin disaster and went ahead with publishing it. A main plot line of this work was concerned with a similar kind of experiment, and frankly, I would have been more content with this text if the conceit had taken over till the very end. As it stands, there was an underlying bitterness of the overdone domestic sort that pervaded the narrative to the point that I didn't understand what this work was doing being published in the last ten years rather than in the last 50. That, plus the bouts of drinking and sex and name drops paints a picture particularly popular amongst certain echelons of the literary crowd, but not with me and my need for something I can truly sink my teeth into. I'm sure Luiselli's likely doing something very clever with her Spanish, but I managed to latch onto other translated from Spanish works before, including those of the much harped on Bolaño, so I"m not about to do the old self-doubt-in-translation routine. All in all, not a great intro to an author who I've heard so much about in a customarily promising sector of literature, so I'm rather content to sit out on this particular wave until something a great deal more promising comes my way.
The benefit from having checked this out from the library is a minimum of resultant cost to counterbalanced the reading profit, although I'm still glad that I can combine the drive to drop this off with more rewarding pursuits. Anyway, much as I advocate for women in translation, I'm usually justifiably wary of the popularity of more contemporary authors. I could be convinced to read more Luiselli in the far flung future, but so much of what puts me off in this book could be fixed by a more in depth look at popularly stereotyped authors and/or a good queering of the entire landscape (cause honestly, anyone who takes 'It's as if you like men and women at the same time' stated in a shocked tone isn't worth my time), so if anyone knows any works, whether by this author or some other WiT, that do just that, do let me know. I rounded my rating up as benefit of the doubt, but I can't promise to not flip to the other side when I've had more time to think about it, especially if 100BestWiT list pursuits turn out far better than this excursion did. Still, if there are any out there who neglect WiT or Spanish lit or translation in general, this is a very short dip into the pond that would well be used to start what would prove to be a rewarding journey. For me, for whom this current work read means I've read around a third of the 100BestWiT I should probably veer off from the popular moderns and go where works are old and neglected and thus much more my line of work. For now, I return this copy and hope that a future reader makes better use of it than I did.
That's the way literary recognition works, at least to a certain degree. It's all a matter of rumor, a rumor that multiplies like a virus until it becomes a collective affinity.Luiselli's one of those hip new names that've been going around of late in this brave new world of 2010's publishing, where post-it notes decorate covers and logos for Target and Amazon are included in the list of funders near the back. This work also showed up on the top 100WiT, recently crowd generated by a mass of interested individuals for the most part online, and its getting elected as this month's 100WiT group read (if you're friends with me on here, you've already received an invite; to everyone else, I implore you to at least look through the group and see all the reading goodies we have in store), incentivized me to track this down from one of my libraries and finish it in a matter of days. Now, I'll readily admit to going into this one with numerous assumptions: [b:Dept. of Speculation|17402288|Dept. of Speculation|Jenny Offill|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1367929545l/17402288._SX50_.jpg|24237023], [a:Bolaño|72039|Roberto Bolaño|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1579028991p2/72039.jpg] (much bandied about by this text itself), even [b:The Mixquiahuala Letters|49141|The Mixquiahuala Letters|Ana Castillo|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1320481125l/49141._SY75_.jpg|1559804], the last probably being quite a stretch by any means. What I found was a story that took one too many names, assumptions, and artificial dichotomies/monosexualities for granted for me to indulge in the narrative to an inspiring degree, or even be serviceably engaged for the majority of its pages. I see the point that the reviews on the back try to make about "elegiac evocation of love and loss", and I raise the fact that I customarily avoid commiserating with known Fascists and infantalized portraits of women. Petty, I suppose, but I just wasn't distracted enough by any consistent level of turn of phrase, philosophical introspection, or thematic development to overlook the little things, and unfortunately, I doubt this work being any longer would've helped with that.
A while back, some folks got together to submit a document full of academicalized nonsense to various scientific journals, some of which accepted the garbled, highfalutin disaster and went ahead with publishing it. A main plot line of this work was concerned with a similar kind of experiment, and frankly, I would have been more content with this text if the conceit had taken over till the very end. As it stands, there was an underlying bitterness of the overdone domestic sort that pervaded the narrative to the point that I didn't understand what this work was doing being published in the last ten years rather than in the last 50. That, plus the bouts of drinking and sex and name drops paints a picture particularly popular amongst certain echelons of the literary crowd, but not with me and my need for something I can truly sink my teeth into. I'm sure Luiselli's likely doing something very clever with her Spanish, but I managed to latch onto other translated from Spanish works before, including those of the much harped on Bolaño, so I"m not about to do the old self-doubt-in-translation routine. All in all, not a great intro to an author who I've heard so much about in a customarily promising sector of literature, so I'm rather content to sit out on this particular wave until something a great deal more promising comes my way.
The benefit from having checked this out from the library is a minimum of resultant cost to counterbalanced the reading profit, although I'm still glad that I can combine the drive to drop this off with more rewarding pursuits. Anyway, much as I advocate for women in translation, I'm usually justifiably wary of the popularity of more contemporary authors. I could be convinced to read more Luiselli in the far flung future, but so much of what puts me off in this book could be fixed by a more in depth look at popularly stereotyped authors and/or a good queering of the entire landscape (cause honestly, anyone who takes 'It's as if you like men and women at the same time' stated in a shocked tone isn't worth my time), so if anyone knows any works, whether by this author or some other WiT, that do just that, do let me know. I rounded my rating up as benefit of the doubt, but I can't promise to not flip to the other side when I've had more time to think about it, especially if 100BestWiT list pursuits turn out far better than this excursion did. Still, if there are any out there who neglect WiT or Spanish lit or translation in general, this is a very short dip into the pond that would well be used to start what would prove to be a rewarding journey. For me, for whom this current work read means I've read around a third of the 100BestWiT I should probably veer off from the popular moderns and go where works are old and neglected and thus much more my line of work. For now, I return this copy and hope that a future reader makes better use of it than I did.
To be honest, I don't think I got it. I got that there was something to get. But I didn't get it.