Moving Parts

by Magdalena Tulli, Bill Johnston

In Moving Parts a feckless, comical narrator struggles against all odds to tell a story for which he is responsible, but which he neither controls nor understands. His characters multiply, repeat, and go astray; his employer is paying no attention, asleep in a drunken stupor. The increasingly desperate narrator clambers over rooftops and through underground passages, watching helplessly as his characters reappear in different times and settings and start rival stories against his will.

This thought-provoking, wryly humorous work from the acclaimed author of Dreams and Stones tells of the sadness of the world and of the inadequate means that language and storytelling offer us for describing and understanding it. Yet it does so in Tulli’s characteristically clear, concrete, gorgeous prose, and, as with Dreams and Stones, the book is a delight to read. This extraordinary work, utterly unique both in its form and its message, shows a European master at the height of her powers and constitutes a major contribution to a new century of European literature. Moving Parts was shortlisted for the 2004 Nike Prize, Poland’s most prestigious literary award. W.S. Merwin claims, “The originality of Tulli’s writing is not lessened by representing a family tree that includes Michaud, Kafka, Calvino, and Saramago.”

Genres: Fiction, Poland, Polish Literature, 21st Century

133 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 2003

About the author

In 1995 Magdalena Tulli got Kościelscy Award. She was shortlisted for the NIKE Award two times. Her books were translated to English, German, French, Czech, Hungarian and Latvian. She is a member of Polish Writers Society. In 2007 she got a special award - distinction of Gdynia Literary Award.

She translated a few books: The anger of heaven by Fleur Jaeggy (for this translation from Italian she received the award of Literature of the world magazine), Amerigo's long day by Italo Calvino and Lost by Marcel Proust.

Reviews

[Annie Tate Cockrum · Rating 4 out of 5]

A meta and hilarious little book about a narrator losing track of his characters and their plot(s). Incredible and absurd!

[John Madera · Rating 5 out of 5]

Absolutely loved Magdalena Tulli's MOVING PARTS, whose narrator is undone both by the narrator narrating him and by the narratives he narrates and eventually loses control over, as they all seemingly seek a grammar capable of capturing and withstanding memory, history, time, loss, violence, death.

[S̶e̶a̶n̶]

Level 5 metafiction that is humorous but excruciatingly so. Regrettably I did not have the attention span required for this at the moment. Perhaps at another time.

[Mark · Rating 3 out of 5]

An off-the-rails postmodern romp turns pretty dark as Authorial Intent corrects the narrators oversights with violence.

[Linda · Rating 4 out of 5]

Maladaptive daydream

[J Guy · Rating 5 out of 5]

Wow that was good wow that was sad wow who am I wow

[Robert Wechsler]

The first thing that must be noted about the version of this book that I read is Bill Johnston’s English-language translation: it’s fantastic. I think this novella would have failed without such a first-rate translation.

The second thing is that this is a book for literary and language nerds. Tulli makes grammar an active player in her extremely post-modern novella. She is especially good on tenses; “The dry land so longed for, the solid ground of the past tense on which the foot can find support, unfortunately contains much more than necessary. It’s filled with the leftovers of other similar tales, and the fading dreams and desires of figures who are absent and irretrievably lost, mixed with the shallow sand of all the parts of speech.” Needless to say, this novel is in the present tense, but no author has ever made such an argument for it, at least to my knowledge.

Tulli also plays with narration (the narrator is the protagonist) and other aspects of fiction writing in ways I haven’t seen before. For example, speculation turns quickly, magically to fact: “He probably still meets with his old teammates. They shoot hoops in a local gym...”

But around page 80, something that seems like a plot takes over, and I found the surreality of this plot incredibly dull, so much so that I put the book down. Sometimes the playfulness of plotlessness is more than enough.

[joe · Rating 5 out of 5]

ik its a translation but this is some of the greatest prose ive ever read

[Franio · Rating 4 out of 5]

ależ fikuśna narracja

[Jim · Rating 4 out of 5]

I am a big fan of metafiction. Every time I realise I’m going to be reading a book where the author’s workings are not hidden away but left there in full view I’m delighted. And I’m especially pleased when the book deals with the process of writing which this one does. There is little or nothing of a plot. The main protagonist is simply known as “the narrator” who thinks he knows what his role in the proceedings is; only the presence of “[h]e who calls the shots” is lacking and so the narrator is left to his own devices. Needless to say without proper guidance the storyline ends up tied in knots. Towards the end of the book a telephone starts ringing:

The narrator finds some scissors and cuts the cord. For a short time he basks in the silence, in which can be heard the soporific buzzing of flies, one, two, three of them, describing hopeless circles beneath the chandelier. But the cut cord is not enough to silence the stubborn ringing of the phone.

Eventually he realises who must be calling:

The voice at the other end of the line informs the narrator dryly of his dissatisfaction, supposedly arising from the fact that up to this point there have been nothing but muddled descriptions of scenery, presented moreover from the wrong side: not from the front but from behind, without the slightest effort to conceal the joins between wood and pasteboard, the running paint, the drab canvas, the braces made from untreated beams that shore up the structure. Who cares if the world exists? Let it look as if it does. The deceptive impression of reality – that is what is expected of the narrator by his taskmaster. A story, like anything else, ought to flow smoothly from beginning to end, never once straying from its course.

A cameo by a work’s creator is nothing new—Spike Milligan did it in Puckoon and Woody Allen did it in his play God—but this particular author has clearly being expecting too much from his narrator. He, for example, berates the narrator about the lack of an ending:

Omitting that final scene was an unpardonable blunder, shouts the voice. But he included what happened in the garden, the narrator tries to interject; he didn’t omit a thing! He suddenly realizes with astonishment that his interlocutor, so self-assured in his authority, is hopelessly misinformed. He missed the ending; a critical episode escaped his notice. And so it was his inattention that brought about the confusion. Story lines got mixed up. That’s why they are now proceeding unchecked through train station and bar, headed goodness knows where.

Any author out there, especially one who’s had his story take on a life of its own and get away from him, will appreciate this novel. The book begins:

The creation of worlds! nothing could be simpler. Apparently they can be conjured out of thin air

Yes they can but there’s nothing simple about it. It only looks that way. After numerous revisions and all kinds of editing and proofreading most books look as if they could’ve been rattled off over a long weekend. Non-writers will have their eyes opened when they read this. Surely writing isn’t nearly as hard as its being presented here. Most won’t have a clue what poststructuralism is or care but even if they’ve only seen the cartoon version of Alice in Wonderland as a kid something at the back of their head will connect with the nightmarish landscape the narrator inhabits. One moment he’s in a hotel, the next in a station or dressed up as a clown in a circus ring. He’s trapped in a world that has its own internal logic. If you’re a writer you’ll get that. If you’ve ever read Animal Man #26 (Grant Morrison’s last issue where he appears within the comic book and explains to Buddy the rules to the universe he inhabits) you’ll get it. If you’ve read The Trial you’ll get it. If you’ve watched Dark City you’ll get it.

Interesting article on the author here (doesn’t really deal with Moving Parts though) and a short interview with the translator can be found here.

[mike · Rating 4 out of 5]

will make your head spin!

[H · Rating 5 out of 5]

Truly breathtaking—one to return to.

[John · Rating 4 out of 5]

The story is short but dense (in the best possible way). Distressing how well Magdalena Tulli writes. Read with a pen in hand.

[Nicole · Rating 3 out of 5]

I read this book at the wrong time, and became distracted and unable to follow where it wanted to take me. I will need to read it again soon.