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The Book of Chameleons
This unusual novel about the landscape of memory and its inconsistencies follows Felix Ventura as he trades in a curious commodity—he sells people different pasts. He can create entirely new pasts full of better memories and complete with new lineage or augment existing pasts as needed. Narrated by an exceptionally articulate and rather friendly lizard that lives on Felix’s living-room wall, this richly detailed story explores how people can remember things that never happened—and with extraordinary vividness—even as they forget things that did in fact occur.
194 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2004
157 people are currently reading
4844 people want to read
About the author
José Eduardo Agualusa
79 books785 followers«José Eduardo Agualusa [Alves da Cunha] nasceu no Huambo, Angola, em 1960. Estudou Silvicultura e Agronomia em Lisboa, Portugal. Os seus livros estão traduzidos em 25 idiomas.
Escreveu várias peças de teatro: "Geração W", "Aquela Mulher", "Chovem amores na Rua do Matador" e "A Caixa Preta", estas duas últimas juntamente com Mia Couto.
Beneficiou de três bolsas de criação literária: a primeira, concedida pelo Centro Nacional de Cultura em 1997 para escrever « Nação crioula », a segunda em 2000, concedida pela Fundação Oriente, que lhe permitiu visitar Goa durante 3 meses e na sequência da qual escreveu « Um estranho em Goa » e a terceira em 2001, concedida pela instituição alemã Deutscher Akademischer Austauschdienst. Graças a esta bolsa viveu um ano em Berlim, e foi lá que escreveu « O Ano em que Zumbi Tomou o Rio ». No início de 2009 a convite da Fundação Holandesa para a Literatura, passou dois meses em Amsterdam na Residência para Escritores, onde acabou de escrever o romance, « Barroco tropical ».
Escreve crónicas para o jornal brasileiro O Globo, a revista LER e o portal Rede Angola.
Realiza para a RDP África "A hora das Cigarras", um programa de música e textos africanos.
É membro da União dos Escritores Angolanos.»
http://www.agualusa.pt/cat.php?catid=27
-----
José Eduardo Agualusa (Alves da Cunha) is an Angolan journalist and writer born to white Portuguese settlers. A native of Huambo, Angola, he currently resides in both Lisbon and Luanda. He writes in Portuguese.
He has previously published collections of short stories, novels, a novella, and - in collaboration with fellow journalist Fernando Semedo and photographer Elza Rocha - a work of investigative reporting on the African community of Lisbon, Lisboa Africana (1993). He has also written Estação das Chuvas, a biographical novel about Lidia do Carmo Ferreira, the Angolan poet and historian who disappeared mysteriously in Luanda in 1992. His novel Nação Crioula (1997) was awarded the Grande Prémio Literário RTP. It tells the story of a secret love between the fictional Portuguese adventurer Carlos Fradique Mendes (a creation of the 19th century novelist Eça de Queiroz) and Ana Olímpia de Caminha, a former slave who became one of the wealthiest people in Angola. Um Estranho em Goa ("A stranger in Goa", 2000) was written on the occasion of a visit to Goa by the author.
Agualusa won the Independent Foreign Fiction Prize in 2007 for the English translation of his novel The Book of Chameleons, translated by Daniel Hahn. He is the first African writer to win the award since its inception in 1990.
(wikipedia)
Escreveu várias peças de teatro: "Geração W", "Aquela Mulher", "Chovem amores na Rua do Matador" e "A Caixa Preta", estas duas últimas juntamente com Mia Couto.
Beneficiou de três bolsas de criação literária: a primeira, concedida pelo Centro Nacional de Cultura em 1997 para escrever « Nação crioula », a segunda em 2000, concedida pela Fundação Oriente, que lhe permitiu visitar Goa durante 3 meses e na sequência da qual escreveu « Um estranho em Goa » e a terceira em 2001, concedida pela instituição alemã Deutscher Akademischer Austauschdienst. Graças a esta bolsa viveu um ano em Berlim, e foi lá que escreveu « O Ano em que Zumbi Tomou o Rio ». No início de 2009 a convite da Fundação Holandesa para a Literatura, passou dois meses em Amsterdam na Residência para Escritores, onde acabou de escrever o romance, « Barroco tropical ».
Escreve crónicas para o jornal brasileiro O Globo, a revista LER e o portal Rede Angola.
Realiza para a RDP África "A hora das Cigarras", um programa de música e textos africanos.
É membro da União dos Escritores Angolanos.»
http://www.agualusa.pt/cat.php?catid=27
-----
José Eduardo Agualusa (Alves da Cunha) is an Angolan journalist and writer born to white Portuguese settlers. A native of Huambo, Angola, he currently resides in both Lisbon and Luanda. He writes in Portuguese.
He has previously published collections of short stories, novels, a novella, and - in collaboration with fellow journalist Fernando Semedo and photographer Elza Rocha - a work of investigative reporting on the African community of Lisbon, Lisboa Africana (1993). He has also written Estação das Chuvas, a biographical novel about Lidia do Carmo Ferreira, the Angolan poet and historian who disappeared mysteriously in Luanda in 1992. His novel Nação Crioula (1997) was awarded the Grande Prémio Literário RTP. It tells the story of a secret love between the fictional Portuguese adventurer Carlos Fradique Mendes (a creation of the 19th century novelist Eça de Queiroz) and Ana Olímpia de Caminha, a former slave who became one of the wealthiest people in Angola. Um Estranho em Goa ("A stranger in Goa", 2000) was written on the occasion of a visit to Goa by the author.
Agualusa won the Independent Foreign Fiction Prize in 2007 for the English translation of his novel The Book of Chameleons, translated by Daniel Hahn. He is the first African writer to win the award since its inception in 1990.
(wikipedia)
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 675 reviews
November 6, 2025
Sometimes, on the literary road, we encounter surprising stories, a style, subjects, and poetry that touch us without knowing why. For example, we cannot explain some romances; once the reading ends, we ask ourselves questions about what happened.
That's what happened to me with the merchant of the past. Reading the back cover, I expected anything but that.
The narrator, a gecko who was once a man, like Scheherazade, tells us about the life that passes in the house he has chosen, that of Félix Ventura. Through concise chapters that may seem disjointed between dream and reality, the reader is almost hypnotized by the story.
The strength of José Eduardo Agualusa's novel lies not in its plot, which is inconsistent in itself. However, the questions it suggests are about the weight of the past, one's pride, each person's history, the lie, the truncated reality, and the memoir's solidities.
Along the way, we will reveal some snippets of Angola's history in the background. Poetic writing is a dreamlike story tinged with a fantasy that we hesitate to qualify as soft or violent, a bizarre reading.
That's what happened to me with the merchant of the past. Reading the back cover, I expected anything but that.
The narrator, a gecko who was once a man, like Scheherazade, tells us about the life that passes in the house he has chosen, that of Félix Ventura. Through concise chapters that may seem disjointed between dream and reality, the reader is almost hypnotized by the story.
The strength of José Eduardo Agualusa's novel lies not in its plot, which is inconsistent in itself. However, the questions it suggests are about the weight of the past, one's pride, each person's history, the lie, the truncated reality, and the memoir's solidities.
Along the way, we will reveal some snippets of Angola's history in the background. Poetic writing is a dreamlike story tinged with a fantasy that we hesitate to qualify as soft or violent, a bizarre reading.
November 15, 2023
The Book of Chameleons is a tale of lost, misplaced and falsified identities…
An intelligent house gecko – a result of metempsychosis – is a narrator of the tale and a master of the house is a genealogist, fabricating for his clients fake family trees… And his patrons are trying their new pasts on as if they’re trying new dresses…
But to my chagrin the story is politically engaged, opportunistically insipid and primitively skeletal… And despite a clever Jorge Luis Borges epigraph it's not a patch on any stories by the maestro.
Some persons falsify genealogies and some persons falsify literature.
As we get old, the only certainty we’re left with is that we will soon be older still. To describe someone as young seems to me to be rather misleading. Someone may be young, yes, but just in the same way that a glass is still intact moments before it shatters on the floor. But excuse my digression – that’s what happens when a gecko starts philosophising…
An intelligent house gecko – a result of metempsychosis – is a narrator of the tale and a master of the house is a genealogist, fabricating for his clients fake family trees… And his patrons are trying their new pasts on as if they’re trying new dresses…
But to my chagrin the story is politically engaged, opportunistically insipid and primitively skeletal… And despite a clever Jorge Luis Borges epigraph it's not a patch on any stories by the maestro.
Some persons falsify genealogies and some persons falsify literature.
March 21, 2021
The Past Isn’t What It Was
“Given a choice between life and books, my son, you must choose books!” The gecko-protagonist (he was, he believes, previously human) remembers his father’s advice. Fiction is the only refuge from a reality which is always painful. It is the means of escape from a world in which we can never really be at home (the gecko, on the other hand, is very much at home; in fact he is a so-called house gecko, prized for keeping the home free of nasty bugs like mosquitoes; and, despite the intimation of the book’s title-in-translation, a gecko is not a chameleon).
To fictionalize one’s life therefore - not just in private but as one’s public persona - is essential therapy. Childhood trauma can be eliminated. Unfortunate parentage corrected. Gaps in education filled. Crimes erased. The gecko’s housemate, Felix, has found his calling as “a man who dealt in memories, a man who sold the past, clandestinely, the way other people deal in cocaine.”
Felix is an artist. As he confides to the gecko: “‘I think what I do is really an advanced kind of literature,’ he told me conspiratorially. ‘I create plots, I invent characters, but rather than keeping them trapped in a book I give them life, launching them out into reality.’” His philosophy conforms nicely with the advice of the gecko’s father: “Literature is the only chance for a true liar to attain any sort of social acceptance.”
And who could argue? If national history is a matter of variable interpretation, why not individual life-histories? Truth, Felix believes, is a superstition. We are happy only for those brief moments we close our eyes to reality.
Besides, do we not grow into our fictions? Is it better we merely accept those given us by our parents or boldly create our own? Isn’t this what setting goals in life is about, telling ourselves stories about ourselves and then living up to the stories? And where can truly original, authentic stories come from but an imaginary past?
And of course if one can successfully invent oneself, it is possible to invent one’s family, one’s ancestors, one’s friends and acquaintances with equivalent ease. With only a little practice we can be discussing them with others, visiting their graves, posting newspaper adverts to find those with whom we have list touch. If reality is a convention, our living it makes it real.
The difficulty. naturally. with fictional reality is that it gets out of control rather easily. For example the President, the government, even in principle the entire country can be replaced, replicated, and there would be no way to know. A fantasy police force, a fantasy justice system, with stand-ins created by the Mafia, or the Russians, or Mossad. And this long before the person of Donald Trump emerged as an international figure!
But there’s an even more fundamental problem: “All stories are connected. In the end everything is connected.” Eventually the lies collide with each other. The 17th century philosopher Gottfried Leibniz speculated that God told everyone’s story and ensured that all stories were consistent. It’s not a bad theory if one is a theist. But if there is no one coordinating the self-generated fictions, the results can be disastrous, especially when things like revenge for atrocities are at stake. The network of lies then threatens to unravel violently.
The gecko is Agualusa’s god-like presence. He doesn’t know the real stories of Felix’s clients; but he does know the fictions that Felix creates for them, and he knows these to be fictitious (geckos can’t blink, and their adhesive feet make them quite literally part of the walls; so they see and hear everything). Apparently geckos are long lived creatures, but they are not immortal. And they are vulnerable to the demonic scorpion. What happens when the gecko dies?
“Given a choice between life and books, my son, you must choose books!” The gecko-protagonist (he was, he believes, previously human) remembers his father’s advice. Fiction is the only refuge from a reality which is always painful. It is the means of escape from a world in which we can never really be at home (the gecko, on the other hand, is very much at home; in fact he is a so-called house gecko, prized for keeping the home free of nasty bugs like mosquitoes; and, despite the intimation of the book’s title-in-translation, a gecko is not a chameleon).
To fictionalize one’s life therefore - not just in private but as one’s public persona - is essential therapy. Childhood trauma can be eliminated. Unfortunate parentage corrected. Gaps in education filled. Crimes erased. The gecko’s housemate, Felix, has found his calling as “a man who dealt in memories, a man who sold the past, clandestinely, the way other people deal in cocaine.”
Felix is an artist. As he confides to the gecko: “‘I think what I do is really an advanced kind of literature,’ he told me conspiratorially. ‘I create plots, I invent characters, but rather than keeping them trapped in a book I give them life, launching them out into reality.’” His philosophy conforms nicely with the advice of the gecko’s father: “Literature is the only chance for a true liar to attain any sort of social acceptance.”
And who could argue? If national history is a matter of variable interpretation, why not individual life-histories? Truth, Felix believes, is a superstition. We are happy only for those brief moments we close our eyes to reality.
Besides, do we not grow into our fictions? Is it better we merely accept those given us by our parents or boldly create our own? Isn’t this what setting goals in life is about, telling ourselves stories about ourselves and then living up to the stories? And where can truly original, authentic stories come from but an imaginary past?
And of course if one can successfully invent oneself, it is possible to invent one’s family, one’s ancestors, one’s friends and acquaintances with equivalent ease. With only a little practice we can be discussing them with others, visiting their graves, posting newspaper adverts to find those with whom we have list touch. If reality is a convention, our living it makes it real.
The difficulty. naturally. with fictional reality is that it gets out of control rather easily. For example the President, the government, even in principle the entire country can be replaced, replicated, and there would be no way to know. A fantasy police force, a fantasy justice system, with stand-ins created by the Mafia, or the Russians, or Mossad. And this long before the person of Donald Trump emerged as an international figure!
But there’s an even more fundamental problem: “All stories are connected. In the end everything is connected.” Eventually the lies collide with each other. The 17th century philosopher Gottfried Leibniz speculated that God told everyone’s story and ensured that all stories were consistent. It’s not a bad theory if one is a theist. But if there is no one coordinating the self-generated fictions, the results can be disastrous, especially when things like revenge for atrocities are at stake. The network of lies then threatens to unravel violently.
The gecko is Agualusa’s god-like presence. He doesn’t know the real stories of Felix’s clients; but he does know the fictions that Felix creates for them, and he knows these to be fictitious (geckos can’t blink, and their adhesive feet make them quite literally part of the walls; so they see and hear everything). Apparently geckos are long lived creatures, but they are not immortal. And they are vulnerable to the demonic scorpion. What happens when the gecko dies?
October 5, 2025
آفتابپرستها، در ابتدا پیش زمینه ای فکری ایجاد میکنه که بنظر میرسه که شاید صرفا ی رمان سیاسی باشه، اما کمکم مخاطب رو وسط ی بازی حافظه، هویت و داستانسازی می کشونه. نویسنده در اینجا ی جهان پر از دروغهای زیبا و واقعیتهای زشت میسازه، جایی که آدمها هم مثل آفتابپرست، رنگ عوض میکنن تا زنده بمونن، تا فراموش نشن، یا شاید فقط برای اینکه بتونن ادامه بدن.
در این بین اونقدر قصه گفته شده و میشه که خودشون هم بین روایتها گم شدن. توی آنگولای بعد از جنگ، با ی مشت آدم روبهرو میشیم که گذشتهشون خاکستریه، حافظهشون تکهپارهست و حقیقت توی حرفهاشون انگار دود میشه و به هوا میره، همه چی به نوعی بین واقعیت و خیال، سیاست،نویسندگی و دروغپردازی میگذره.
روایت ها لایه لایه باز میشن و هرچی جلوتر میریم، بیشتر شک میکنیم که چی واقعیه و چی نه. این بازی روایی گاهی خیلی هوشمندانهست و لذتبخش، ولی بعضی وقتا هم بیش از حد گنگ میشه، طوری که حس میشه نویسنده خودش هم بین آشفتگی روایت ها گیر افتاده ، ریتم داستان ی جاهایی سنگین تره، مخصوصا وقتی زیادی به استعاره و خاطره پناه میبره، البته گاهی همون موقع ی جمله یا تصویر ناگهانی باعث جرقه ای میشه.
داستان در واقع ی بازی ذهنیه و درگیر پرسشی همیشگی: "من کیام؟"
فراموشی، خیالپردازی و خودفریبی توی ذهن آدمها میچرخه، و آگوآلوسا نشون میده که انسان برای زنده موندن چقدر راحت هویت خودش رو بازسازی میکنه. از نظر روانی، داستان مثله نمایشی جمعی از تسلط حافظهی انتخابیه، همه فقط اون چیزهایی رو یادشونه که بتونن باهاش سازگار بشن. اما اگر عمیق تر به بعد انسانی و اجتماعی این کتاب نگاه کنیم دوباره به همون اصل تمرکز نویسنده میرسیم یعنی: هویت!
اینکه انسان بدون حافظه و ریشه، تبدیل به سایهای بیچهره میشه. از ی طرف، میخواد بگه آدمی همیشه در حال تغییر و سازگاریه (مثل آفتابپرست)، ولی از ی طرف دیگه، این تغییر مداوم رو ی جور فریبکاری میبینه. شرایط جامعه ای بعد از جنگ، مردمی که حقیقت رو فراموش میکنن چون تلخه، و کسانی که داستان میسازن تا درد رو تحملپذیر کنن..
آگوآلوسا با نیشخند خاصی سیاست رو وارد روایت میکنه، مثه سایهای که همیشه پشت دیوار می مونه. سیاست در "آفتابپرستها" ی جور مکانیسم حافظهزداییه، انقلاب، ایدئولوژی، تبعید، همه فقط بهانهن برای عوض کردن رنگ. اینجا هیچکس قهرمان نیست، حتی روشنفکرها هم آلودهن. نویسنده با هوش خاصی نشون میده چطور قدرت، هم هویت فردی رو میبلعه، هم حافظهی جمعی رو.
نثر آگوآلوسا تقریبا شاعرانهست، ولی نه از اون مدل های پر از ادا، از طرفی ی طنز ریزی هم داره، گاهی هم سخت خوانه و باعث میشه تمرکز از دست بره و بیشتر حس کنیم که قطعههای پراکنده ای از ذهن ی فیلسوف رو میخونیم تا ی رمان منسجم. با این حال، از نظر ادبی و هنری بنظرم ارزش خوندن داره چون ی نمونه از رمان پسااستعماریه.
آفتابپرستها، اگرچه تاملهای قشنگی داری اما نه اونقدر عمیقه که آدمو متحول کنه و نه اونقدر سطحی که فراموش بشه...
در این بین اونقدر قصه گفته شده و میشه که خودشون هم بین روایتها گم شدن. توی آنگولای بعد از جنگ، با ی مشت آدم روبهرو میشیم که گذشتهشون خاکستریه، حافظهشون تکهپارهست و حقیقت توی حرفهاشون انگار دود میشه و به هوا میره، همه چی به نوعی بین واقعیت و خیال، سیاست،نویسندگی و دروغپردازی میگذره.
روایت ها لایه لایه باز میشن و هرچی جلوتر میریم، بیشتر شک میکنیم که چی واقعیه و چی نه. این بازی روایی گاهی خیلی هوشمندانهست و لذتبخش، ولی بعضی وقتا هم بیش از حد گنگ میشه، طوری که حس میشه نویسنده خودش هم بین آشفتگی روایت ها گیر افتاده ، ریتم داستان ی جاهایی سنگین تره، مخصوصا وقتی زیادی به استعاره و خاطره پناه میبره، البته گاهی همون موقع ی جمله یا تصویر ناگهانی باعث جرقه ای میشه.
داستان در واقع ی بازی ذهنیه و درگیر پرسشی همیشگی: "من کیام؟"
فراموشی، خیالپردازی و خودفریبی توی ذهن آدمها میچرخه، و آگوآلوسا نشون میده که انسان برای زنده موندن چقدر راحت هویت خودش رو بازسازی میکنه. از نظر روانی، داستان مثله نمایشی جمعی از تسلط حافظهی انتخابیه، همه فقط اون چیزهایی رو یادشونه که بتونن باهاش سازگار بشن. اما اگر عمیق تر به بعد انسانی و اجتماعی این کتاب نگاه کنیم دوباره به همون اصل تمرکز نویسنده میرسیم یعنی: هویت!
اینکه انسان بدون حافظه و ریشه، تبدیل به سایهای بیچهره میشه. از ی طرف، میخواد بگه آدمی همیشه در حال تغییر و سازگاریه (مثل آفتابپرست)، ولی از ی طرف دیگه، این تغییر مداوم رو ی جور فریبکاری میبینه. شرایط جامعه ای بعد از جنگ، مردمی که حقیقت رو فراموش میکنن چون تلخه، و کسانی که داستان میسازن تا درد رو تحملپذیر کنن..
آگوآلوسا با نیشخند خاصی سیاست رو وارد روایت میکنه، مثه سایهای که همیشه پشت دیوار می مونه. سیاست در "آفتابپرستها" ی جور مکانیسم حافظهزداییه، انقلاب، ایدئولوژی، تبعید، همه فقط بهانهن برای عوض کردن رنگ. اینجا هیچکس قهرمان نیست، حتی روشنفکرها هم آلودهن. نویسنده با هوش خاصی نشون میده چطور قدرت، هم هویت فردی رو میبلعه، هم حافظهی جمعی رو.
نثر آگوآلوسا تقریبا شاعرانهست، ولی نه از اون مدل های پر از ادا، از طرفی ی طنز ریزی هم داره، گاهی هم سخت خوانه و باعث میشه تمرکز از دست بره و بیشتر حس کنیم که قطعههای پراکنده ای از ذهن ی فیلسوف رو میخونیم تا ی رمان منسجم. با این حال، از نظر ادبی و هنری بنظرم ارزش خوندن داره چون ی نمونه از رمان پسااستعماریه.
آفتابپرستها، اگرچه تاملهای قشنگی داری اما نه اونقدر عمیقه که آدمو متحول کنه و نه اونقدر سطحی که فراموش بشه...
April 21, 2023
بدون شک نوشتن هرگونه نقد و نظر و یا ریویویی برای کتاب آفتاب پرست ها ، کاری بسیار سخت و شاید بدون فایده است ، این کتاب که شاید لغت عجیب بهترین صفت برای توصیف آن باشد نوشته ژوزه ادوآردو آگوآلوسا نویسنده آنگولایی ایست و به زبان پرتغالی نوشته شده است .
راوی این داستان ، آفتاب پرستی ایست که در خانه ای قدیمی و کهنه به همراه فیلیکس ونتورا مردی زال که به خاطر ظاهرش در میان آنگولایی های اغلب سیاه پوست چهره ای بسیار متفاوت است زندگی می کند ، حرفه فیلیکس ونتورا ساختن گذشته و فروختن آن به افرادی ایست که آینده آنها تامین شده است . نویسنده هنگام شرح گذشته ،کمی هم تاریخ ناشناخته آنگولا تحت استعمار پرتغال را بیان می کند ، همین چند سطر ، اساس کتاب آفتاب پرست ها و خط داستانی آنرا شکل می دهد . داستانی که درک آن برای خواننده شاید مشکل و سخت باشد.
نکته جالب کتاب که توسط نشر چشمه منتشر شده وجود 32 صفحه خالی یا صفحاتی ایست که تنها عنوان یک فصل در آن چاپ شده است که نسبت به تعداد کل صفحه کتاب ، عدد قابل توجه ایست .
راوی این داستان ، آفتاب پرستی ایست که در خانه ای قدیمی و کهنه به همراه فیلیکس ونتورا مردی زال که به خاطر ظاهرش در میان آنگولایی های اغلب سیاه پوست چهره ای بسیار متفاوت است زندگی می کند ، حرفه فیلیکس ونتورا ساختن گذشته و فروختن آن به افرادی ایست که آینده آنها تامین شده است . نویسنده هنگام شرح گذشته ،کمی هم تاریخ ناشناخته آنگولا تحت استعمار پرتغال را بیان می کند ، همین چند سطر ، اساس کتاب آفتاب پرست ها و خط داستانی آنرا شکل می دهد . داستانی که درک آن برای خواننده شاید مشکل و سخت باشد.
نکته جالب کتاب که توسط نشر چشمه منتشر شده وجود 32 صفحه خالی یا صفحاتی ایست که تنها عنوان یک فصل در آن چاپ شده است که نسبت به تعداد کل صفحه کتاب ، عدد قابل توجه ایست .
April 20, 2013
Ovaj šarmantni pisac zaslužuje svu vašu pažnju... Pretprošle godine je bio gost na sajmu... objavljeno je još nekoliko njegovih knjiga na srpskom...
September 13, 2015
Yes, it really is narrated by a gecko, and a gecko who is a reincarnation of Jorge Luis Borges at that. A gecko that laughs. And dreams.
Maria Helena, my Brazilian friend who recommended it to me, informs me that a gecko in Portuguese is osga. Which makes me think of a drum-playing, glass-shattering inmate of a mental hospital.
"Sorry to ask - but could you tell me your name?"
"I have no name," I replied quite frankly. "I am the gecko."
"That's silly. No one is a gecko!"
"You're right. No one's a gecko. And you - are you really called Félix Ventura?"
Names. Félix Ventura: happy venture.
Félix can dream meeting the gecko. (Or is it the gecko who dreams meeting Félix?) He has to find him a name: Eulálio, because he is so well-spoken.
This is stylish, and witty, and beguiling. A dream-like examination of identity and memory and literature. But ignore the blurb that calls it 'as brisk as a thriller', for that it is not. There is a murder, but it takes a small while to get there. Der Weg ist das Ziel.
September 7, 2015
We’re in Angola after that country won independence from Portugal. But even though the fighting is over there is still political upset and people trying to settle old scores. There are so many folks who want to run away from their pasts that our main character, an African albino, has a business inventing new past lives for people. He’ll give you old family photos and biographical sketches of your mother, father, siblings and tell you what your childhood was like. Most of the plot in this short book consists of interactions with the main character’s “clients” and the women he brings home, with some surprises in both departments. We learn a little bit of the horrors of the war. (Splendor of Portugal by Antonio Lobo Antunes, which I reviewed, gives us more about war in Angola.) And did I say the narrator is a gecko? A bit strange but a good read that has won several literary prizes.
January 25, 2019
أكثر من رائعة, روائي كبير وأصيل أتى بفكرة مدهشة وعالجها باحترافية وفنية عالية
النهاية صادمة وجميلة
الترجمة ممتازة
النهاية صادمة وجميلة
الترجمة ممتازة
June 15, 2015
Very strange novella, and I don't know why it won the awards and plaudits that it did. Am I the boy declaring the emperor has no clothes, or have I missed the point? Either way, I wouldn't recommend spending your own money on it. This should probably be either 1* or 4*, but as I don't know which, I'm compromising on 2*.
THEMES
It is about truth and lies, dreams and reality, memory, predestination, fitting in, and the difference between having a dream and making one, but it's more superficial than that makes it sound.
PLOT
It's set in Angola (though there's little sense of Africa in it), and is about, Felix, an albino bibliophile with mild OCD whose business is to "Guarantee your children a better past... I invent dreams for people, I am not a forger." Some chapters (they are typically only a page or two) tell of José Buchmann acquiring a new past, and others are "dreams". Felix says his job is "an advanced kind of literature... I create plots, I invent characters, but rather than keeping them trapped in a book I give them life, launching them into reality".
Felix isn't the only one changing the past and creating new futures: his teacher was "moved by the helplessness of certain words. He saw them as down on their luck, abandoned in some desolate place in the language, and he sought to recover them", while his client, Buchmann, comes to believe in his new past more than Felix thought possible and is told, "You invented him... and now he's begun to invent himself".
IMAGERY
There are some nice images ("It was as though it were raining night... as though falling from the sky were the thick fragments of that sleepy black ocean through which the stars navigate their course."), and quirky ideas (a castle which had crenelations added to make it look authentic and soon the locals swore it had always had them. "If it were authentic, no one would believe in it."), but the plot meanders until suddenly, the penultimate chapter ties up everything in a mad rush. Very unsatisfying.
GECKO or CHAMELEON?
For no very obvious reason, much of this story is told by a gecko, rather than an eponymous chameleon. Granted, there are parallels with people living chameleon-like lives, but if that's the point, why not have a chameleon narrator (maybe it's because "Geckos are unique among lizards in their vocalizations", according to Wikipedia?)? More likely, it's a translation problem, albeit a rather prominent one: original Portuguese title is "O Vendedor de Passados", which means something like "Seller of the Past".
Lies are OK because they are common in nature, "What is camouflage, for instance, but a lie?" (Back to chameleons, rather than geckos.)
CONCLUSION
I think it's somewhat pretentious (lacking the profundity it seems to crave), the pacing is annoyingly inconsistent (slow and apparently aimless most of the time, until a frantic end), and I never understood the point of the gecko.
THEMES
It is about truth and lies, dreams and reality, memory, predestination, fitting in, and the difference between having a dream and making one, but it's more superficial than that makes it sound.
PLOT
It's set in Angola (though there's little sense of Africa in it), and is about, Felix, an albino bibliophile with mild OCD whose business is to "Guarantee your children a better past... I invent dreams for people, I am not a forger." Some chapters (they are typically only a page or two) tell of José Buchmann acquiring a new past, and others are "dreams". Felix says his job is "an advanced kind of literature... I create plots, I invent characters, but rather than keeping them trapped in a book I give them life, launching them into reality".
Felix isn't the only one changing the past and creating new futures: his teacher was "moved by the helplessness of certain words. He saw them as down on their luck, abandoned in some desolate place in the language, and he sought to recover them", while his client, Buchmann, comes to believe in his new past more than Felix thought possible and is told, "You invented him... and now he's begun to invent himself".
IMAGERY
There are some nice images ("It was as though it were raining night... as though falling from the sky were the thick fragments of that sleepy black ocean through which the stars navigate their course."), and quirky ideas (a castle which had crenelations added to make it look authentic and soon the locals swore it had always had them. "If it were authentic, no one would believe in it."), but the plot meanders until suddenly, the penultimate chapter ties up everything in a mad rush. Very unsatisfying.
GECKO or CHAMELEON?
For no very obvious reason, much of this story is told by a gecko, rather than an eponymous chameleon. Granted, there are parallels with people living chameleon-like lives, but if that's the point, why not have a chameleon narrator (maybe it's because "Geckos are unique among lizards in their vocalizations", according to Wikipedia?)? More likely, it's a translation problem, albeit a rather prominent one: original Portuguese title is "O Vendedor de Passados", which means something like "Seller of the Past".
Lies are OK because they are common in nature, "What is camouflage, for instance, but a lie?" (Back to chameleons, rather than geckos.)
CONCLUSION
I think it's somewhat pretentious (lacking the profundity it seems to crave), the pacing is annoyingly inconsistent (slow and apparently aimless most of the time, until a frantic end), and I never understood the point of the gecko.
February 5, 2017
I read a more recent novel by this author earlier this year, A General Theory of Oblivion. Both novels are set after the 1975 revolution in Angola, where the Portuguese felt a shift in power and empire. A General Theory of Oblivion focuses on a woman who walls herself up in her apartment for decades and experiences the conflict through what she hears and in how her food stores disappear; Chameleons tells the story of Felix Ventura, a man who helps people construct new backstories through fake lineages. The story is told by a former librarian who is reincarnated as a gecko. (Read that sentence again.)
The chapters are short. They alternate between characters coming in for a new skin and dreams the gecko is having. Felix starts to share dreams with the gecko. The violence happens between the events of the novel, which is an interesting way for it to happen. The characters have strong bonds that he may not know himself. Very readable, kept me hooked, great cover.
I also think the translation deserves a mention because it is passages like this that kept me reading:
"The two guests remained, seated opposite each other. Neither spoke. The silence that hung between them was full of murmurings, of shadows, of things that run along in the distance, in some remote time, dark and furtive."
The chapters are short. They alternate between characters coming in for a new skin and dreams the gecko is having. Felix starts to share dreams with the gecko. The violence happens between the events of the novel, which is an interesting way for it to happen. The characters have strong bonds that he may not know himself. Very readable, kept me hooked, great cover.
I also think the translation deserves a mention because it is passages like this that kept me reading:
"The two guests remained, seated opposite each other. Neither spoke. The silence that hung between them was full of murmurings, of shadows, of things that run along in the distance, in some remote time, dark and furtive."
Read
April 23, 2023DNF
December 29, 2013
“I think what I do is really an advanced kind of literature,” he told me conspiratorially.” I create plots, I invent characters, but rather than keeping them trapped in a book I give them life, launching them out into reality.” - José Eduardo Agualusa, The Book of Chameleons
Recently I’ve been reading a lot of books written by African writers and I am impressed by the wide range of subject matter and also the different writing styles I’ve encountered. I took a break from reading African lit a few years ago because I became so tired of the doom and gloom coming from a continent I know has so much more to offer. It’s always nice when a book by an African author, or a book set in Africa, dwells on different subject matter.
This was an interesting book written by an Angolan author, with a gecko as a narrator, a gecko who had been a man in a previous life. The very eloquent gecko lives in the house of Felix Ventura, an albino man who invents people’s pasts for them, to the point where they become very believable. The gecko sees and hears all, and remembers his past life, which he dreams about. He communicates with Felix through his dreams.
The book definitely dwells on lies a lot. What is real? What isn’t?
“Literature is the only chance for a true liar to attain any sort of social acceptance.”
“”Lies, he explained,” are everywhere. Even nature herself lies. What is camouflage, for instance, but a lie?”"
The writing style is definitely magical realism with a Latin American feel to it. it’s a quick, poetic read, not complex at all. Despite the fact that it was set in Angola, I didn’t learn much about Angola.
I wonder why a gecko though? What’s the significance? The only thing I could think of is how geckos are everywhere in Africa. My aunt used to tell me that geckos don’t care about social class because they can be found in both mansions and mud hut . I really wish I knew why a gecko was chosen as narrator.
Recently I’ve been reading a lot of books written by African writers and I am impressed by the wide range of subject matter and also the different writing styles I’ve encountered. I took a break from reading African lit a few years ago because I became so tired of the doom and gloom coming from a continent I know has so much more to offer. It’s always nice when a book by an African author, or a book set in Africa, dwells on different subject matter.
This was an interesting book written by an Angolan author, with a gecko as a narrator, a gecko who had been a man in a previous life. The very eloquent gecko lives in the house of Felix Ventura, an albino man who invents people’s pasts for them, to the point where they become very believable. The gecko sees and hears all, and remembers his past life, which he dreams about. He communicates with Felix through his dreams.
The book definitely dwells on lies a lot. What is real? What isn’t?
“Literature is the only chance for a true liar to attain any sort of social acceptance.”
“”Lies, he explained,” are everywhere. Even nature herself lies. What is camouflage, for instance, but a lie?”"
The writing style is definitely magical realism with a Latin American feel to it. it’s a quick, poetic read, not complex at all. Despite the fact that it was set in Angola, I didn’t learn much about Angola.
I wonder why a gecko though? What’s the significance? The only thing I could think of is how geckos are everywhere in Africa. My aunt used to tell me that geckos don’t care about social class because they can be found in both mansions and mud hut . I really wish I knew why a gecko was chosen as narrator.
February 27, 2016
Esta novela, relativamente breve, es la tercera que leo del angoleño Agualusa y, hasta ahora, la que más me ha gustado. Quizás en 2010, cuando leí las dos anteriores, todavía no tenía suficiente cultura lusófona como para sacarles toda su miga. Estação das Chuvas, basada en la agitada historia reciente de Angola, no me dijo nada. Tal vez me faltaran referentes locales. Y Nação Crioula me gustó un poco más, pero también me faltaban referentes como la figura del escritor Eça de Queirós, a quien Agualusa incluyó entre los protagonistas y autor que empecé a leer un año después.
O Vendedor de Passados, que tiene traducción española, trata sobre un original genealogista “a la africana”. En un país con una historia traumática y lleno de nuevos ricos, lo que el protagonista ofrece es inventar pasados interesantes para trepadores que necesitan rodearse de abolengo. Ese es su negocio, que acomete con rigor, creando pruebas y pistas desde la nada. En ese sentido, me ha recordado lejanamente al 1984 de George Orwell, novela en que un régimen totalitario reinventa la historia constantemente para tener engañado al pueblo. No obstante, se trata de dos obras muy diferentes. La obra de Orwell es una terrorífica distopía, mientras que la de Agualusa parece recaer en la onda del realismo mágico africano. El narrador, por ejemplo, es una salamanquesa que vive en casa del protagonista.
De lectura amena, no me parece que sea necesario tener un gran conocimiento de la historia de Angola para apreciar este libro; si acaso, tener la noción de que el país se desangró en una guerra civil entre 1975 y 1990. El ambiente descrito es casi onírico (de hecho, a cada pocas breves secciones de trama siguen, intercaladas, las descripciones de sueños de la salamanquesa). Y abundan observaciones del autor que me han parecido deliciosas. Aquí van unas pocas:
(lo que le dice una… ¿prostituta? al narrador, que tal vez recuerde una vida anterior antes de reencarnarse en salamanquesa): “La castidad es una agonía inútil, muchacho; yo la corrijo con placer.”
(lo que aconsejó la madre a Eulálio, mucho antes de que se reencarnara): “Entre la vida y los libros, hijo mío, escoge los libros.”
(una acertada observación): “Nuestra memoria se alimenta, en gran medida, de aquello que los otros recuerdan de nosotros. Tendemos a recordar como nuestros los recuerdos ajenos, incluso los fictícios.”
O Vendedor de Passados, que tiene traducción española, trata sobre un original genealogista “a la africana”. En un país con una historia traumática y lleno de nuevos ricos, lo que el protagonista ofrece es inventar pasados interesantes para trepadores que necesitan rodearse de abolengo. Ese es su negocio, que acomete con rigor, creando pruebas y pistas desde la nada. En ese sentido, me ha recordado lejanamente al 1984 de George Orwell, novela en que un régimen totalitario reinventa la historia constantemente para tener engañado al pueblo. No obstante, se trata de dos obras muy diferentes. La obra de Orwell es una terrorífica distopía, mientras que la de Agualusa parece recaer en la onda del realismo mágico africano. El narrador, por ejemplo, es una salamanquesa que vive en casa del protagonista.
De lectura amena, no me parece que sea necesario tener un gran conocimiento de la historia de Angola para apreciar este libro; si acaso, tener la noción de que el país se desangró en una guerra civil entre 1975 y 1990. El ambiente descrito es casi onírico (de hecho, a cada pocas breves secciones de trama siguen, intercaladas, las descripciones de sueños de la salamanquesa). Y abundan observaciones del autor que me han parecido deliciosas. Aquí van unas pocas:
(lo que le dice una… ¿prostituta? al narrador, que tal vez recuerde una vida anterior antes de reencarnarse en salamanquesa): “La castidad es una agonía inútil, muchacho; yo la corrijo con placer.”
(lo que aconsejó la madre a Eulálio, mucho antes de que se reencarnara): “Entre la vida y los libros, hijo mío, escoge los libros.”
(una acertada observación): “Nuestra memoria se alimenta, en gran medida, de aquello que los otros recuerdan de nosotros. Tendemos a recordar como nuestros los recuerdos ajenos, incluso los fictícios.”
March 16, 2017
رجل ببيع الماضي، بأن يشكّل ويصنع لزبائنه تاريخًا شخصيًا وفقًا لرغباتهم، معتمدًا على وقائع متفرقة وشخصيات مجهولة لا يعلمها أحد غيره، ومستندًا على حصيلته الضخمة من الكتب والوثائق التاريخية التي ورثها عن أجداد. الرواي هو حيوان زاحف يدُعى (الوزغة) وفقًا لترجمة المترجم، وبعد البحث على جوجل اتضح أن هذه الوزعة هي ما ندعوه بـ ( البُرص \ أبو بريص) في مصر. الكثير من الفلاش باك لأحداث مبهمة لشخصيات متفرقة لا تعلم هل هي واقعية ومرتبطة بسياق الأحداث أم من وحي خيال بائع الماضي!، وأحلام هذيانية للسيد ( البُرص) رواي الأحداث لا نفهم معناها ولا علاقتها بالنص، والذي يحاول إقناعنا أنه كان إنسانًا فيما قبل، وفي الخلفية تدور الأحداث على هيئة فصول قصيرة بأسلوب مشتت لا تعرف هل مشكلته من الترجمة أم أن أسلوب الكاتب هو هكذا.
حقيقةً لا أعلم ما الذي أبهر بلال فضل في هذه الرواية كي يرشحها في برنامجه عصير الكتب ومن ثم يدفعني الفضول لقراءتها، وللأمانة، الفكرة عبقرية ومبشرة للغاية وحديث بلال فضل عنها كان ممتعًا ومشوقًا، ولكن ما وجدته بين الصفحات كان بمثابة خيبة أمل كبيرة، ربما نختلف في الذائقة الأدبية ودرجة ا��استيعاب، ولكن هنا، في هذه الرواية، لم أتمكن من استساغة المحتوى ولم تعجبني معالجة الفكرة حتى الصفحة الخامسة والسبعين، أي قبل المنتصف بقليل، لذلك لم أكملها، ولن أكلمها إلا إذا فوجئت في يوم من الأيام بتقييم أو مراجعة لأحد الأصدقاء تقنعني أن بالرواية شيء يستحق الانتظار في الصفحات التي لم أقرأها، فالعمر قصير يا سادة .
تمت
December 27, 2013
Brief and rather quirky novel set in Angola. The narrator is a gecko living in the house of Felix Ventura. The gecko is articulate and charming; he appears to have been a man in a previous life and he dreams. Felix likes the lizard and talks to him. Felix is an albino who creates memories and a past for people. Come to Felix and he will provide documentation and photographs of grandparents and illustrious ancestors. One client in particular really believes in the past he has been given and becomes the person that has been created for him.
The novel employs magic realism and is at times rather disjointed; there is a basic storyline with someone's real past catching up with him. There is a love interest and a fair amount of photography.
On the whole I enjoyed the novel; it is a little slight, but the dream sequences are good and there is one great line; spoken to Felix, when young and about to lose his virginity:
"Chastity is a pointless agony kid. And one I'm happy to fix ..."
The novel employs magic realism and is at times rather disjointed; there is a basic storyline with someone's real past catching up with him. There is a love interest and a fair amount of photography.
On the whole I enjoyed the novel; it is a little slight, but the dream sequences are good and there is one great line; spoken to Felix, when young and about to lose his virginity:
"Chastity is a pointless agony kid. And one I'm happy to fix ..."
July 27, 2020
"A felicidade é quase sempre uma irresponsabilidade. Somos felizes durante os breves instantes em que fechamos os olhos."
"Que idade terá? Talvez sessenta, e nesse caso cuidou muito bem do corpo a vida inteira, ou quarenta, quarenta e cinco, e então deve ter atravessado anos de profundo desespero. Ao vê-lo ali sentado achei-o sólido como um rinoceronte. Os olhos, esses, parecem muito mais antigos, carregados de descrença e de fadiga, mesmo se, em determinados momentos, como quando, ainda agora, ergueu o copo e brindou à Vida, os ilumina uma luz de aurora."
"Que idade terá? Talvez sessenta, e nesse caso cuidou muito bem do corpo a vida inteira, ou quarenta, quarenta e cinco, e então deve ter atravessado anos de profundo desespero. Ao vê-lo ali sentado achei-o sólido como um rinoceronte. Os olhos, esses, parecem muito mais antigos, carregados de descrença e de fadiga, mesmo se, em determinados momentos, como quando, ainda agora, ergueu o copo e brindou à Vida, os ilumina uma luz de aurora."
May 7, 2018
Quite a different sort of book, narrated largely by a gecko observing the proceedings from a wall in Felix Ventura's home. He views and comments on Felix's visitors, his odd career, his unusual decor and, in return, Felix shares thoughts with him (anthropomorphizing totally here) about Brazil, Angola, people. But then the gecko may have a human past.....or did Felix make it up for him as a kindness of sorts. This is such an interesting way to present the truths and lies of history, especially in a country torn by revolt and resistance.
It's a fascinating premise, well delivered. Reality, such as it is, seen through the eyes of a lizard on the wall of Felix Ventura's home. And Felix lives to provide desired back stories for those who come to him seeking a better family history than those life has given. Who is real here? Even the gecko has a backstory that doesn't involve being an amphibian. Very interesting take on the nature of reality.
If you have followed me this far, you might indeed enjoy The Book of Chameleons. I do recommend you give this a try.
Read with Great African Reads
It's a fascinating premise, well delivered. Reality, such as it is, seen through the eyes of a lizard on the wall of Felix Ventura's home. And Felix lives to provide desired back stories for those who come to him seeking a better family history than those life has given. Who is real here? Even the gecko has a backstory that doesn't involve being an amphibian. Very interesting take on the nature of reality.
If you have followed me this far, you might indeed enjoy The Book of Chameleons. I do recommend you give this a try.
Read with Great African Reads
December 17, 2020
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February 1, 2017Poštujem i podržavam svakovrsne izdavačke inicijative, ma koliko egzotične bile, čak i kad me teme ni malo ne zanimaju. Problem, kao i inače, nastaje u podrazumevajućem detaljima, jer svako podrazumeva u svojoj glavi i za svoj groš. Ja sam podrazumevala (sudeći i po imenu edicije „Dereta vam predstavlja“) da taj, uglavnom korektan izdavač želi da mi u što boljem svetlu predstavi perspektivnog afričkog pisca, pa još i nagrađivanog koje gde. Izdavač je, ispostaviće se, pod tim predstavljanjem podrazumevao nešto drugo, za sasvim svoj groš, te nije moje da znam šta je to. Ok, moje su bile pare, ali me niko bičem u knjižaru uterao nije.
Kako bilo, silno se ogrešiše o nesrećnog pisca ovim, ovom... ovom nadri reanimacijom od prevoda! Ne samo što je sa engleskog, nego je i takav vrlo sumnjiv (Rikardo ReJS, košulja je nekad košulja a nekad majica – a nije u pitanju nebitan detalj, igre reči rešavane isključivo napomenama, ali proizvoljno i tako to). A jezik je ovde bio bitan. Portugalski jezik, ne engleski. Verujem da upravo zato većina rivjuvera doslovno prepričava knjigu.
Bilo bi nefer da ocenjujem pisca pod ovakvim okolnostima, jer ima valjanih elemenata: zanimljiva mu je osnovna zamisao i struktura mu je interesantna (ne preterano), simpatične su aluzije na književnost, par slika mi je bilo baš cool. Ipak, insinuacije su naivno usiljene i najčešće petparački zaokružene. Vole ti južnjaci foru yo soy tu madre, pa to ti je!
I ovo je nefer jer bih ja sva drveća sočnog manga, sve pešn frute i pufnaste kokoške ovog sveta rado menjala za 300 strana dobre nordijske depre i dikensovskog sivila: i dalje tvrdim pazar na temu magijskog, sub, infra i ostalih dokmuseznojavotelopresijavalonasuncu realizama.
Dakle, ima elemenata da se mnogo kome dopadne, za mene – ne preterano, ali sasvim dovoljno da Agvaluzin "Lični čudesnik" ostane na listi planiranog.
Na temu Angole i retkih vrsta guštera sam bila sposobna da odgovaram samo na eliminaciona kviz pitanja (ne mora baš A ili B, ali nikako sa više od četiri moguća odgovora), pa da uz dosta sreće nešto i nabodem. Mislila sam da ću ovom knjigom iz potpunog mraka sopsvene geopolitičke nepismenosti izaći na lepši i zabavniji način. Stanje se, istina, malkice popravilo, ali bih se manje nervirala da sam čitala Vikipediju.
Ne treba čitati rivjue pre čitanja, treba čekati častan prevod.
Kako bilo, silno se ogrešiše o nesrećnog pisca ovim, ovom... ovom nadri reanimacijom od prevoda! Ne samo što je sa engleskog, nego je i takav vrlo sumnjiv (Rikardo ReJS, košulja je nekad košulja a nekad majica – a nije u pitanju nebitan detalj, igre reči rešavane isključivo napomenama, ali proizvoljno i tako to). A jezik je ovde bio bitan. Portugalski jezik, ne engleski. Verujem da upravo zato većina rivjuvera doslovno prepričava knjigu.
Bilo bi nefer da ocenjujem pisca pod ovakvim okolnostima, jer ima valjanih elemenata: zanimljiva mu je osnovna zamisao i struktura mu je interesantna (ne preterano), simpatične su aluzije na književnost, par slika mi je bilo baš cool. Ipak, insinuacije su naivno usiljene i najčešće petparački zaokružene. Vole ti južnjaci foru yo soy tu madre, pa to ti je!
I ovo je nefer jer bih ja sva drveća sočnog manga, sve pešn frute i pufnaste kokoške ovog sveta rado menjala za 300 strana dobre nordijske depre i dikensovskog sivila: i dalje tvrdim pazar na temu magijskog, sub, infra i ostalih dokmuseznojavotelopresijavalonasuncu realizama.
Dakle, ima elemenata da se mnogo kome dopadne, za mene – ne preterano, ali sasvim dovoljno da Agvaluzin "Lični čudesnik" ostane na listi planiranog.
Na temu Angole i retkih vrsta guštera sam bila sposobna da odgovaram samo na eliminaciona kviz pitanja (ne mora baš A ili B, ali nikako sa više od četiri moguća odgovora), pa da uz dosta sreće nešto i nabodem. Mislila sam da ću ovom knjigom iz potpunog mraka sopsvene geopolitičke nepismenosti izaći na lepši i zabavniji način. Stanje se, istina, malkice popravilo, ali bih se manje nervirala da sam čitala Vikipediju.
Ne treba čitati rivjue pre čitanja, treba čekati častan prevod.
April 18, 2024
اخیرا با کتابی مواجه نشده بودم که جوری به دلم بشینه که دوست داشته باشم یه پست ازش بذارم و در موردش بنویسم؛ این یکی اما واقعا سر ذوقم آورد.
خونهای رو تصور کنید که توش یه مرد تنها زندگی میکنه و شغلش جعل اصل و نسب، شجرهنامه و سناریوسازی در مورد خانواده و وطن برای آدمهای بیهویت و تازه به دورانرسیدهست!
هرروز مشتریانی از این دست به خونهی مرد رفت و آمد میکنن و داستان خانوادگی مخصوص خودشون رو از مرد تحویل میگیرن که گاهی یه آلبوم عکس فاخر قدیمی و ساختگی هم همراهشه. مکالمات، رفتارها و اتمسفر خونه، مو به مو و با جزییات جالبی روایت میشه.
حالا راوی داستان کیه؟ اینجا قسمت جذابتر ماجراست. یه "آفتابپرست" نشسته لب پنجرهی اتاق مرد و هرچیزی که میبینه برای خواننده شرح میده؛ آفتاب پرستی که شاید توی زندگی قبلیش یه آدم بوده با رویاهای رنگارنگ و حسرتهای بیشمار...
این دومین رمانیه که از آگوآلوساخوندم؛ خودش رمان رو ادای دینی به بورخس میدونه و من عمیقا باور دارم این نویسنده نابغهست.
در نهایت چقدر خوبه که توی این آشفتهبازارِ ترجمههای هزارباره از عناوین تکراری، مهدی غبرایی از کمترشناختهشدهها، بیشتر ترجمه میکنه. 🍃
خونهای رو تصور کنید که توش یه مرد تنها زندگی میکنه و شغلش جعل اصل و نسب، شجرهنامه و سناریوسازی در مورد خانواده و وطن برای آدمهای بیهویت و تازه به دورانرسیدهست!
هرروز مشتریانی از این دست به خونهی مرد رفت و آمد میکنن و داستان خانوادگی مخصوص خودشون رو از مرد تحویل میگیرن که گاهی یه آلبوم عکس فاخر قدیمی و ساختگی هم همراهشه. مکالمات، رفتارها و اتمسفر خونه، مو به مو و با جزییات جالبی روایت میشه.
حالا راوی داستان کیه؟ اینجا قسمت جذابتر ماجراست. یه "آفتابپرست" نشسته لب پنجرهی اتاق مرد و هرچیزی که میبینه برای خواننده شرح میده؛ آفتاب پرستی که شاید توی زندگی قبلیش یه آدم بوده با رویاهای رنگارنگ و حسرتهای بیشمار...
این دومین رمانیه که از آگوآلوساخوندم؛ خودش رمان رو ادای دینی به بورخس میدونه و من عمیقا باور دارم این نویسنده نابغهست.
در نهایت چقدر خوبه که توی این آشفتهبازارِ ترجمههای هزارباره از عناوین تکراری، مهدی غبرایی از کمترشناختهشدهها، بیشتر ترجمه میکنه. 🍃
December 30, 2021
اتمام..
۱۰ دی ۱۴۰۰
ساعت ۰۲:۲۱
۱۰ دی ۱۴۰۰
ساعت ۰۲:۲۱
April 3, 2024
“I know now-I think I probably already knew then- that all lives are exceptional.”
Whatever you are reading I bet that it is nothing like this!This book is really little more than a novella as almost half of the pages are blank title pages with only probably 90 pages of actual storyline but don't let this fool you it still has depth and meaning.
The narrator of this book is a gecko who lives on the walls of Felix Ventura's house in Luanda, Angola. Felix Ventura is an albino,a negative if you like, a collector of snippets on other peoples lives and an inventor of pasts, in that he creates new and more exciting pasts and lineage if you are dissatisfied with your own. Into Felix's life comes two strangers, both photographers, one a strange,mysterious foreigner who adopts the identity of one of Felix's invented personas, Jose Buchmann, and a beautiful woman Angela Lucia whose own past is, in her own words, unremarkable. Suddenly Felix's life is turned upside down as reality and fantasy become intermingled.
Colour and light, not surprisingly given that the narrator is a gecko and two of the central characters are photographers, are major themes. Jose Buchmann is a war photographer and as such looking for the darkness in human spirit whereas Angela Lucia is interested in light and rainbows. But as light and colour changes so do memories,where minor events in our lives take a far greater precedence than they should whereas major events are almost forgotten. We as humans are constantly reinventing ourselves.
Initially I tried to follow literally the storyline, trying to join the dots, but after a while I realised that "evolution" was the storyline and just went with the flow which made the story more enjoyable.
It is fascinating to read a book from an African author that is so bright and breezy in its outlook rather than doom and despondency. Yes, there are political undertones with Angola's savage struggle for its own identity but there is throughout a sense of comedy and irony which overrides this.
Perhaps the brevity of the book means that its characters lack a little depth but had me guessing as to its ending right to the very end. Then the last 20 or so pages wraps things up nicely. This is one of the most original books that I have read in quite a while and I would certainly recommend it.
Whatever you are reading I bet that it is nothing like this!This book is really little more than a novella as almost half of the pages are blank title pages with only probably 90 pages of actual storyline but don't let this fool you it still has depth and meaning.
The narrator of this book is a gecko who lives on the walls of Felix Ventura's house in Luanda, Angola. Felix Ventura is an albino,a negative if you like, a collector of snippets on other peoples lives and an inventor of pasts, in that he creates new and more exciting pasts and lineage if you are dissatisfied with your own. Into Felix's life comes two strangers, both photographers, one a strange,mysterious foreigner who adopts the identity of one of Felix's invented personas, Jose Buchmann, and a beautiful woman Angela Lucia whose own past is, in her own words, unremarkable. Suddenly Felix's life is turned upside down as reality and fantasy become intermingled.
Colour and light, not surprisingly given that the narrator is a gecko and two of the central characters are photographers, are major themes. Jose Buchmann is a war photographer and as such looking for the darkness in human spirit whereas Angela Lucia is interested in light and rainbows. But as light and colour changes so do memories,where minor events in our lives take a far greater precedence than they should whereas major events are almost forgotten. We as humans are constantly reinventing ourselves.
Initially I tried to follow literally the storyline, trying to join the dots, but after a while I realised that "evolution" was the storyline and just went with the flow which made the story more enjoyable.
It is fascinating to read a book from an African author that is so bright and breezy in its outlook rather than doom and despondency. Yes, there are political undertones with Angola's savage struggle for its own identity but there is throughout a sense of comedy and irony which overrides this.
Perhaps the brevity of the book means that its characters lack a little depth but had me guessing as to its ending right to the very end. Then the last 20 or so pages wraps things up nicely. This is one of the most original books that I have read in quite a while and I would certainly recommend it.
November 30, 2020
"Κανείς δεν είναι ένα όνομα!"
Κανείς δεν είναι το χρώμα του, δεν είναι το σαρκίο του, δεν είναι ένας τόπος.
Είναι το γενεαλογικό του δέντρο, είναι το παρελθόν και οι μνήμες του.
Όμως και αυτές οι παράμετροι παίρνουν διαφορετική ερμηνεία υπό το πρίσμα των υποκειμενικών επιλογών και κρίσεων ή των κοινωνικών συμβάσεων και παραδοχών.
Είμαστε οι επιλογές μας, οι πράξεις και τα πιστεύω μας.
Ή μήπως όσα δείχνουμε στους άλλους;
It's all in perspective
Κανείς δεν είναι το χρώμα του, δεν είναι το σαρκίο του, δεν είναι ένας τόπος.
Είναι το γενεαλογικό του δέντρο, είναι το παρελθόν και οι μνήμες του.
Όμως και αυτές οι παράμετροι παίρνουν διαφορετική ερμηνεία υπό το πρίσμα των υποκειμενικών επιλογών και κρίσεων ή των κοινωνικών συμβάσεων και παραδοχών.
Είμαστε οι επιλογές μας, οι πράξεις και τα πιστεύω μας.
Ή μήπως όσα δείχνουμε στους άλλους;
It's all in perspective
November 15, 2023
Gostei imenso deste livro: da originalidade dos personagens e da história, da forma de escrever do autor... Foi o primeiro livro que li do José Eduardo Agualusa, exceptuando um livro de histórias para crianças que já me tinha agradado bastante (Estranhões e Bizarrocos). Fiquei definitivamente com vontade de ler mais.
April 6, 2009
If you've always dreamed of reading a book narrated by a gecko who happens to be the reincarnation of Jorge Luis Borges, this is your lucky day. Otherwise, skip it.
May 19, 2012
Tired of all these novels here with humans as narrators? Then try this one for a change. It's told by a lizard, specifically a spotted house gecko. It was born in, and has never left, this house of an albino who brings home prostitutes (sometimes decent women too) and who is visited by people needing his unique services. This guy, watched by this intrepid lizard-narrator all the times, manufactures the past for a living. People who pay him for it get new sets of identification papers, personal histories and backgrounds.
The lizard can observe, understand what it sees, and relate stories because it was once a man. For some reason, after his death, he reincarnated as a house lizard. It dreams and remembers. Even the albino dreams about it--as a man--and they have enjoyable discourses.
The author is an Angolan, the setting is in Angola, but this was originally written in Portuguese. I read it not because it won the Independent Foreign Fiction Prize of 2007, but because I like books written by Joses. So far I've read Jose Saramago, Jose Rizal, Jose Luis Peixoto, and now Jose Eduardo Agualusa. Soon, I hope to find copies of "Memoirs of a Peasant Boy" (Xose Neira Vilas), "Martin Fierro" (Jose Hernandez) and "The Crime of Father Amaro" (Jose Maria Eca de Queiros which author the lizard here saw the albino reading and whose name the latter also mentioned to a lady friend).
The lizard can observe, understand what it sees, and relate stories because it was once a man. For some reason, after his death, he reincarnated as a house lizard. It dreams and remembers. Even the albino dreams about it--as a man--and they have enjoyable discourses.
The author is an Angolan, the setting is in Angola, but this was originally written in Portuguese. I read it not because it won the Independent Foreign Fiction Prize of 2007, but because I like books written by Joses. So far I've read Jose Saramago, Jose Rizal, Jose Luis Peixoto, and now Jose Eduardo Agualusa. Soon, I hope to find copies of "Memoirs of a Peasant Boy" (Xose Neira Vilas), "Martin Fierro" (Jose Hernandez) and "The Crime of Father Amaro" (Jose Maria Eca de Queiros which author the lizard here saw the albino reading and whose name the latter also mentioned to a lady friend).
March 30, 2018
A primeira palavra que me ocorre para descrever este livro é a sua originalidade.
Além disso, mais uma vez, José Eduardo Agualusa consegue misturar a realidade com os sonhos de uma forma simultaneamente séria e divertida e, deste modo, descrever-nos um passado de guerra e de ódio em Angola, mas também um presente de amor e esperança.
O narrador deste livro é uma osga, que no passado foi um ser humano. A personagem principal é Félix Ventura, um albino, que, por força das suas características pessoais (impossibilidade de apanhar sol), vive muito só, passando grande parte do seu tempo em sua casa, que também se tornou na minha casa durante esta agradável leitura, na companhia da osga com a qual vai conversando. E o mais fantástico é que quando dormem, Félix Ventura e a osga entram nos sonhos um do outro.
Félix Ventura tem como profissão criar passados falsos a políticos, empresários e outras pessoas bem sucedidas, para que as mesmas se sintam mais importantes e dignas face aos outros, e fá-lo com tanta criatividade que deixa os seus clientes muito satisfeitos.
Um certo dia, surge-lhe em casa um homem misterioso, fotógrafo de guerras de profissão, que viajou por todo o mundo, e que quer mais que um passado falso, pois pretende também uma nova identidade. Félix Ventura assim o faz, mas este seu novo e misterioso cliente deixa aquele atónito quando parece acreditar mesmo que esse passado é real e vai à procura dos seus pretensos pais pelo sul de Angola, pelos E.U.A. e pela África do Sul.
Pelo meio, há também uma bonita história de amor, pois Félix Ventura apaixona-se pela primeira vez na sua vida por uma jovem fotógrafa, não de guerras, mas de nuvens e de outros bonitos fenómenos naturais, e aparece também um sem-abrigo, anterior agente das forças de segurança do Estado Angolano, que continua a acreditar no comunismo na sua forma mais pura e dura, sentindo-se desiludido com o caminho que o seu país seguiu.
E mais não conto para não estragar todas as belas surpresas que este livro nos revela e que nos faz rir e sorrir, apesar de tratar de assuntos muito sérios, como os traumas de uma guerra civil e de um passado colonial de um povo que parece ainda não ter encontrado o seu caminho.
Além disso, mais uma vez, José Eduardo Agualusa consegue misturar a realidade com os sonhos de uma forma simultaneamente séria e divertida e, deste modo, descrever-nos um passado de guerra e de ódio em Angola, mas também um presente de amor e esperança.
O narrador deste livro é uma osga, que no passado foi um ser humano. A personagem principal é Félix Ventura, um albino, que, por força das suas características pessoais (impossibilidade de apanhar sol), vive muito só, passando grande parte do seu tempo em sua casa, que também se tornou na minha casa durante esta agradável leitura, na companhia da osga com a qual vai conversando. E o mais fantástico é que quando dormem, Félix Ventura e a osga entram nos sonhos um do outro.
Félix Ventura tem como profissão criar passados falsos a políticos, empresários e outras pessoas bem sucedidas, para que as mesmas se sintam mais importantes e dignas face aos outros, e fá-lo com tanta criatividade que deixa os seus clientes muito satisfeitos.
Um certo dia, surge-lhe em casa um homem misterioso, fotógrafo de guerras de profissão, que viajou por todo o mundo, e que quer mais que um passado falso, pois pretende também uma nova identidade. Félix Ventura assim o faz, mas este seu novo e misterioso cliente deixa aquele atónito quando parece acreditar mesmo que esse passado é real e vai à procura dos seus pretensos pais pelo sul de Angola, pelos E.U.A. e pela África do Sul.
Pelo meio, há também uma bonita história de amor, pois Félix Ventura apaixona-se pela primeira vez na sua vida por uma jovem fotógrafa, não de guerras, mas de nuvens e de outros bonitos fenómenos naturais, e aparece também um sem-abrigo, anterior agente das forças de segurança do Estado Angolano, que continua a acreditar no comunismo na sua forma mais pura e dura, sentindo-se desiludido com o caminho que o seu país seguiu.
E mais não conto para não estragar todas as belas surpresas que este livro nos revela e que nos faz rir e sorrir, apesar de tratar de assuntos muito sérios, como os traumas de uma guerra civil e de um passado colonial de um povo que parece ainda não ter encontrado o seu caminho.
September 11, 2018
بریدههایی از کتاب:
جوانی را سوار موتورسیکلتش تصور کنید که در جادهی باریکی سرعت گرفته. باد به صورتش تازیانه می زند. جوان چشم ها را می بندد و دست ها را باز می کند، مثل کاری که در فیلم ها می کنند، و خود را کاملا سرزنده و هماهنگ با جهان می بیند. از کامیونی که از تقاطع هجوم می آورد غافل می شود. شاد و سرخوش می میرد. شادی تقریبا همیشه از مسئولیت بری است. ما دَم کوتاهی که چشم ها را می بندیم شادیم
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و افزود: فرق اصلی بین دیکتاتوری و دموکراسی این است که در دیکتاتوری فقط یک حقیقت وجود دارد، حقیقتی که قدرت حاکم تحمیل میکند
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وصف هرکس بعنوان جوان به نظرم کمابیش خطاست. شاید یکی جوان باشد، بله، اما درست مانند همین لیوان، دست نخورده دَمی بعد به زمین می افتد و می شکند
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می فهمم آن چه دارم برایت می نویسم نامه نیست و ایمیل است. امروزه دیگر کسی نامه نمی نویسد. اما راستش دلم برای روزگاری تنگ شده که مردم با نامه باهم ارتباط می گرفتند نامه ی واقعی، روی کاغذ خوب که میشد به آن چکه های عطر اضافه کنی؛ یا گل خشکیده، پر رنگی، طره ای مو بر آن بگذاری. حسرت آن ایام را می خورم که پستچی برایمان نامه می آورد، چه قدر خوشحال میشدیم، چه قدر تعجب می کردیم از نامه ای که به دست مان می رسید، بازش می کردیم و می خواندیم و وقتی جواب میدادیم، چه مراقبتی می کردیم، هر کلمه را انتخاب می کردیم، سبک سنگینش می کردیم، رایحه اش را حس می کردیم، چون می دانستیم گیرنده هم هر کلمه را سبک سنگین می کند، ارزیابی می کند، می بوید و می چشد
جوانی را سوار موتورسیکلتش تصور کنید که در جادهی باریکی سرعت گرفته. باد به صورتش تازیانه می زند. جوان چشم ها را می بندد و دست ها را باز می کند، مثل کاری که در فیلم ها می کنند، و خود را کاملا سرزنده و هماهنگ با جهان می بیند. از کامیونی که از تقاطع هجوم می آورد غافل می شود. شاد و سرخوش می میرد. شادی تقریبا همیشه از مسئولیت بری است. ما دَم کوتاهی که چشم ها را می بندیم شادیم
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و افزود: فرق اصلی بین دیکتاتوری و دموکراسی این است که در دیکتاتوری فقط یک حقیقت وجود دارد، حقیقتی که قدرت حاکم تحمیل میکند
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وصف هرکس بعنوان جوان به نظرم کمابیش خطاست. شاید یکی جوان باشد، بله، اما درست مانند همین لیوان، دست نخورده دَمی بعد به زمین می افتد و می شکند
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می فهمم آن چه دارم برایت می نویسم نامه نیست و ایمیل است. امروزه دیگر کسی نامه نمی نویسد. اما راستش دلم برای روزگاری تنگ شده که مردم با نامه باهم ارتباط می گرفتند نامه ی واقعی، روی کاغذ خوب که میشد به آن چکه های عطر اضافه کنی؛ یا گل خشکیده، پر رنگی، طره ای مو بر آن بگذاری. حسرت آن ایام را می خورم که پستچی برایمان نامه می آورد، چه قدر خوشحال میشدیم، چه قدر تعجب می کردیم از نامه ای که به دست مان می رسید، بازش می کردیم و می خواندیم و وقتی جواب میدادیم، چه مراقبتی می کردیم، هر کلمه را انتخاب می کردیم، سبک سنگینش می کردیم، رایحه اش را حس می کردیم، چون می دانستیم گیرنده هم هر کلمه را سبک سنگین می کند، ارزیابی می کند، می بوید و می چشد
November 18, 2017
„La orele de cateheză, un preot bătrân, cu glas şters şi privire obosită, a încercat, fără convingere, să-mi explice în ce consta Veşnicia. Eu credeam că este un alt nume dat vacanţei mari. Preotul îmi vorbea despre îngeri, iar eu vedeam găinuşe. De altfel, până în ziua de astăzi, găsesc că găinile sunt tot ce poate fi mai asemănător cu îngerii. El ne vorbea despre Fericiri, iar eu vedeam găinile cotcodăcind în soare, scormonind în ţărână, rostogolindu-şi ochii lor mici şi sticloşi într-un pur extaz mistic. Nu reuşesc să-mi imaginez Paradisul fără găini. Nici măcar nu reuşesc să mi-l imaginez pe Bunul Dumnezeu, întins leneş pe un pat pufos de nori, fără să fie înconjurat de o blândă legiune de găini. De altfel, nu am cunoscut niciodată vreo găină rea – voi aţi cunoscut? Găinile, ca şi furnicile albe, ca şi fluturii, sunt imune la rău.”
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