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Radio Ciudad Perdida
Hace diez años que la guerra civil ha terminado en un país sin nombre. Mucha gente ha desaparecido y la ciudad se ha transformado dramáticamente. Norma conduce el programa de más éxito de la radio. Lee los nombres de los desparecidos y, al hacerlo, reúne a familias e intenta recomponer lo que la violencia ha destruido. Pero ella también es una víctima de la guerra, su marido no ha regresado a casa. Aparece entonces Víctor, un niño de la selva portando una lista de nombres, en la que Norma encontrará indicios sobre el destino de su esposo.
Contundente y cautivadora, Radio Ciudad Perdida plantea profundas interrogantes respecto a la guerra y su significado: desde su impacto arrasador sobre una sociedad sacudida por la violencia, hasta las cicatrices emocionales que cada participante, observador y superviviente carga a lo largo de su vida.
Contundente y cautivadora, Radio Ciudad Perdida plantea profundas interrogantes respecto a la guerra y su significado: desde su impacto arrasador sobre una sociedad sacudida por la violencia, hasta las cicatrices emocionales que cada participante, observador y superviviente carga a lo largo de su vida.
388 pages, Paperback
First published January 30, 2007
118 people are currently reading
2747 people want to read
About the author
Daniel Alarcón
47 books438 followersDaniel Alarcón’s fiction and nonfiction have been published in The New Yorker, Harper's, Virginia Quarterly Review, Salon, Eyeshot and elsewhere. He is Associate Editor of Etiqueta Negra, an award-winning monthly magazine based in his native Lima, Peru. His story collection, War by Candlelight, was a finalist for the 2006 PEN/Hemingway Foundation Award, and the British journal Granta recently named him one of the Best Young American Novelists. He is the recipient of numerous awards, including a Fulbright Scholarship (2001), a Whiting Award (2004), and a Guggenheim Fellowship (2007). He lives in Oakland, California, and his first novel Lost City Radio was published in February 2007.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 368 reviews
July 22, 2018
“Please help us. Attached find our list of lost people.
Perhaps one of these individuals will be able to care for the boy. We listen to ‘Lost City Radio’ every week. We love your show”...
“Your biggest fans,
Village 1797”
Once Victor’s village had a *name*. When the war ended, the government confiscated the old maps- cut out textbooks and burned them.
Norma, Radio Host, didn’t know the boy who says he came from the jungle, ( the boy is too young to remember the war - as Norma does),
Norma ‘feels’ the war’s history. We feel her loneliness and sadness for Rey, her husband, who disappeared, too.
Norma was born in this ( unnamed city..Peru we assume)...
She knows the chaos of the city: “traffic and people, with buses and moto-taxis and vegetable carts. Or life on this city’s rooftops: clothes hanging on a line next to rusting chicken coops, old men playing cards on a milk crate, dogs barking angrily, teeth bared at the heavy sea air. She’d even seen a man once, sitting on his yellow hard hat, sobbing”.
I have been wanting to read author Daniel Alarcon for years...( finally!!!)
The beauty, simplicity, and powerful intimacy in Alarcon’s writing was a pleasant surprise.
For some reason - I thought Alarcon might be difficult to read. The only thing difficult- is experiencing the sadness - the haunting story of so much grief...
Yet... there was sooooooooooo much beauty in the writing - I almost couldn't contain my own ecstasy ....
“Neighborhoods like these are networks of impulses, Rey said, human, electrical, biological, like the forest: in the summer, inexplicable carnivals of flesh; in the winter, blankets in the window and darkened homes. It was winter that day. ‘They use candles’, Rey said. ‘Like the mountains’”.
The bonding that develops between Norma and the boy Victor just takes your heart ..from being at the beach together - to Norma watching Victor eat. “Boys his age are always hungry”!
Yep... I smiled in this book too. Moments of warmth - from the writing and ‘feelings’ alone from how the author told this story was soooo breathtaking!!!!
When I finished ... the first thing I wanted to do was know more about the author! This reader fell in love with Daniel Alarcon!!!
Perhaps one of these individuals will be able to care for the boy. We listen to ‘Lost City Radio’ every week. We love your show”...
“Your biggest fans,
Village 1797”
Once Victor’s village had a *name*. When the war ended, the government confiscated the old maps- cut out textbooks and burned them.
Norma, Radio Host, didn’t know the boy who says he came from the jungle, ( the boy is too young to remember the war - as Norma does),
Norma ‘feels’ the war’s history. We feel her loneliness and sadness for Rey, her husband, who disappeared, too.
Norma was born in this ( unnamed city..Peru we assume)...
She knows the chaos of the city: “traffic and people, with buses and moto-taxis and vegetable carts. Or life on this city’s rooftops: clothes hanging on a line next to rusting chicken coops, old men playing cards on a milk crate, dogs barking angrily, teeth bared at the heavy sea air. She’d even seen a man once, sitting on his yellow hard hat, sobbing”.
I have been wanting to read author Daniel Alarcon for years...( finally!!!)
The beauty, simplicity, and powerful intimacy in Alarcon’s writing was a pleasant surprise.
For some reason - I thought Alarcon might be difficult to read. The only thing difficult- is experiencing the sadness - the haunting story of so much grief...
Yet... there was sooooooooooo much beauty in the writing - I almost couldn't contain my own ecstasy ....
“Neighborhoods like these are networks of impulses, Rey said, human, electrical, biological, like the forest: in the summer, inexplicable carnivals of flesh; in the winter, blankets in the window and darkened homes. It was winter that day. ‘They use candles’, Rey said. ‘Like the mountains’”.
The bonding that develops between Norma and the boy Victor just takes your heart ..from being at the beach together - to Norma watching Victor eat. “Boys his age are always hungry”!
Yep... I smiled in this book too. Moments of warmth - from the writing and ‘feelings’ alone from how the author told this story was soooo breathtaking!!!!
When I finished ... the first thing I wanted to do was know more about the author! This reader fell in love with Daniel Alarcon!!!
June 27, 2020
Real But Not Really
Seemingly trivial events have profoundly decisive consequences: A thirteen year old gets a little drunk and thereby becomes a terrorist. A young woman attends a party and falls for the terrorist. A boy’s mother makes a misstep while doing the laundry in a jungle river and drowns; the boy is launched into an entirely alien world of the woman who longs for the terrorist. This is the hopeless desolation of a sort of Thomas Hardy country in Peru. Hapless tragedy with a Spanish accent. No one comes out whole.
“No one knew how bad it would get.” Not the man, the woman, the boy, or the entire Peruvian nation as they slid imperceptibly into the irreversible chaos of civil war. The continuity of existence was simply lost. Even the names of de-populating towns and villages were legally erased. The old languages are no longer spoken. Identity consists solely of distorted fragments of unreliable memory.
But memory itself is dangerous. After all “the country was now in the process of forgetting the war ever happened at all.” Official policy is to forget. It is necessary to forget in order to renew memory. And even the boy realizes the risks of remembering: “Happiness, he’d decided, was a kind of amnesia.” Should one even seek the lost and disappeared? After ten years, surely the people we knew are gone even if their bodies have survived.
Everyone has a list of their missing relatives, friends, and colleagues. Lost City Radio is a program for finding missing people, for matching the seekers with the sought. But what does that mean? Is it as simple as matching lists? “How do you tell them it’s a show? Lost City Radio is real, but not real.” Other than acting as a focus for nostalgic longing, it only raises hopes for the impossible. The past is not only past; it never happened the way it’s remembered. The lists are of people not identities.
The truth is that the war has created a universal restlessness - about identity as well as place. No one wants to be where, or who, they are. Those in the jungle and mountains long for escape to the city. Those already in the peripheral slums of the city want to escape to the relative luxury of its center. Those in the center want to escape the fear of losing everything. And perhaps the missing want to stay that way. Identity is a dangerous thing; it can carry unwanted baggage.. Torture tends to make identity memorable but only uncomfortably so.
Memory, like history itself, is indeed real but not real. This is an incurable sadness.
Seemingly trivial events have profoundly decisive consequences: A thirteen year old gets a little drunk and thereby becomes a terrorist. A young woman attends a party and falls for the terrorist. A boy’s mother makes a misstep while doing the laundry in a jungle river and drowns; the boy is launched into an entirely alien world of the woman who longs for the terrorist. This is the hopeless desolation of a sort of Thomas Hardy country in Peru. Hapless tragedy with a Spanish accent. No one comes out whole.
“No one knew how bad it would get.” Not the man, the woman, the boy, or the entire Peruvian nation as they slid imperceptibly into the irreversible chaos of civil war. The continuity of existence was simply lost. Even the names of de-populating towns and villages were legally erased. The old languages are no longer spoken. Identity consists solely of distorted fragments of unreliable memory.
But memory itself is dangerous. After all “the country was now in the process of forgetting the war ever happened at all.” Official policy is to forget. It is necessary to forget in order to renew memory. And even the boy realizes the risks of remembering: “Happiness, he’d decided, was a kind of amnesia.” Should one even seek the lost and disappeared? After ten years, surely the people we knew are gone even if their bodies have survived.
Everyone has a list of their missing relatives, friends, and colleagues. Lost City Radio is a program for finding missing people, for matching the seekers with the sought. But what does that mean? Is it as simple as matching lists? “How do you tell them it’s a show? Lost City Radio is real, but not real.” Other than acting as a focus for nostalgic longing, it only raises hopes for the impossible. The past is not only past; it never happened the way it’s remembered. The lists are of people not identities.
The truth is that the war has created a universal restlessness - about identity as well as place. No one wants to be where, or who, they are. Those in the jungle and mountains long for escape to the city. Those already in the peripheral slums of the city want to escape to the relative luxury of its center. Those in the center want to escape the fear of losing everything. And perhaps the missing want to stay that way. Identity is a dangerous thing; it can carry unwanted baggage.. Torture tends to make identity memorable but only uncomfortably so.
Memory, like history itself, is indeed real but not real. This is an incurable sadness.
April 20, 2013
Ovo je jedna knjiga koja čitaoca baca u potpunu nedoumicu šta da misli... Nametnuta mi je na uređenje (nije bila moj izbor), ja je nikad ne bih objavila jer mi nije jasno kome je i čemu namenjena, a opet nije loše napisana... baš me zanima da li ju je neko od vas čitao, i šta vi mislite?
malo teksta:
1.
Normu su povukli s programa tog utorka ujutru zbog jednog dečaka koji je ostavljen u radio-stanici. Bio je tih i mršav i držao je cedulju. Recepcionerka ga je pustila da prođe. Sazvan je sastanak.
Sala za sastanke bila je dobro osvetljena, a kroz prozor s pogledom na istok, prema planinama, grad se video kao na dlanu. Kada je Norma ušla, Elmer je sedeo na čelu stola i trljao lice rukama kao da se upravo probudio iz nemirnog, nezadovoljavajućeg sna. Sela je, a on je klimnuo glavom u znak pozdrava, zevnuo i počeo da se igra čepom na bočici lekova koju je izvadio iz džepa. – Donesi mi vode – požalio se svom pomoćniku. – I isprazni pepeljere, Lene. Zaboga.
Dečak je sedeo preko puta Elmera na neudobnoj drvenoj stolici i zurio u svoja stopala. Bio je sitan i krhke građe, očiju premalih za svoje lice. Glava mu je bila obrijana – kako bi se ubile vaške, pretpostavila je Norma. Iznad usana su mu se nazirali jedva vidljivi začeci brkova. Nosio je pohabanu košulju, a neporubljene pantalone pričvrstio je oko struka pertlom.
Norma je sedela leđima okrenuta vratima, od svih najbliže dečaku, pogleda upravljenog ka belom gradu.
Len se vratio s bokalom vode u rukama. Bila je puna mehurića i sivkasta. Elmer je nasuo čašu i progutao dve pilule. Nakašljao se u rukav. – Da pređemo na stvar – reče Elmer nakon što je Len seo. – Žao nam je što smo prekinuli vesti, Norma, ali želeli smo da upoznaš Viktora.
– Dečače, reci joj koliko imaš godina – Len reče.
– Jedanaest – odvratio je dečak jedva čujnim glasom. – Jedanaest i po.
Len je pročistio grlo i bacio pogled ka Elmeru kao da time traži dozvolu da govori. Nakon što mu je šef klimnuo glavom, nastavio je. – To su odlične godine – reče Len. – Nego, došao si da vidiš Normu, zar ne?
– Da – odvrati Viktor.
– Poznaješ li ga?
Norma nije poznavala dečaka.
– Kaže da dolazi iz džungle – nastavio je Len. – Mislili smo da bi želela da ga upoznaš. Zbog emisije.
– Sjajno – rekla je. – Hvala.
Elmer je ustao i prišao prozoru. Bio je tek silueta spram zaslepljuće svetlosti. Norma je dobro poznavala tu panoramu: grad koji se pružao sve do horizonta i dalje. Kad čelo prislonite na staklo prozora, pogled vam seže niz ulicu sve do one široke avenije zakrčene saobraćajem i ljudima, autobusima i taksi-motorima i kolicima s povrćem. Ili se vidi život na gradskim krovovima: odeća okačena na žice pored zarđalih kaveza za piliće, starci koji igraju karte na paketima mleka, psi kako ljutito laju zuba, iskeženih na teškom morskom vazduhu. Jednom je čak videla čoveka kako sedi na svom žutom zaštitnom šlemu i grca u suzama.
Šta god da je u tom trenutku video, Elmer nije pokazivao da je za to i zanteresovan.
Okrenuo se ka njima. – Nije samo iz džungle, Norma. Dolazi iz Sela 1797.
Norma se ispravila. – Šta pokušavaš da mi kažeš, Elmere?
Za tu glasinu su znali da je tačna: masovne grobnice, bezimeni seljani, pobijeni i pobacani u jarkove. Naravno, nikada nisu izveštavali o tome. Niko nije. Već godinama nisu govorili o tome. Osetila je kako joj nešto pritiska grudi.
– Verovatno nije ništa važno – reče Elmer. – Hajde da joj pokažemo cedulju.
Viktor je izvadio parče papira iz džepa, verovatno ono isto koje je pokazao recepcionerki. Predao ga je Elmeru, koji je stavio naočare za čitanje i pročistio grlo. Pročitao je naglas:
Draga gospođice Norma:
Ovo dete se zove Viktor. On je iz Sela 1797 u istočnoj džungli. Mi, stanovnici Sela 1797, prikupili smo naše novce i poslali ga u grad. Želimo da Viktor ima bolji život. Ovde za njega nema budućnosti. Molimo pomozite nam. Prilažemo naš spisak izgubljenih ljudi. Možda će neko od ovih pojedinaca moći da se stara o dečaku. Slušamo Radio izgubljeni grad svake nedelje. Volimo vašu emisiju.
Vaši najveći obožavaoci,
Selo 1797
– Norma – reče Elmer. – Žao mi je. Želeli smo lično da ti kažemo. Bio bi sjajan za emisiju, ali želeli smo da te prvo upozorimo.
– U redu je – protrljala je oči i duboko udahnula. – U redu je.
Norma je mrzela brojeve. Nekada, svaki je grad imao ime; nezgrapno, milenijumsko ime nasleđeno od bog će ga znati kog izumrlog naroda, imena teških suglasnika koji zvuče kao trenje kamena o kamen. Međutim, cela zemlja se modernizovala, pa i njeni zabačeni zakuci. Sve se odvijalo po završetku sukoba – bila je to nova politika vlade. Govorili su da ljudi zaboravljaju stare sisteme. Norma je sumnjala u to. – Znaš li kako se nekada zvalo tvoje selo? – upitala je dečaka.
Viktor je odmahnuo glavom.
Norma je na trenutak zatvorila oči. Verovatno su ga naučili da tako kaže. Kada se rat završio, vlada je zaplenila stare karte. Uklonjene su s polica Narodne biblioteke, građani su ih sami donosili, isecane su iz udžbenika i spaljivane. Norma je pratila dešavanja za potrebe radija, pomešala se s uzbuđenom masom koja se skupila na Novogradskom trgu da posmatra. Nekada, Viktorovo selo je imalo ime, ali ono je sada izgubljeno. Njen suprug Rej nestao je u blizini sela neposredno pre nego što je Nelegitimna legija (NL) pobeđena. Bilo je to pred kraj pobune, pre deset godina. Još uvek ga je čekala.
– Jeste li dobro, gospođice Norma? – upita dečak tankim, piskavim glasom.
Otvorila je oči.
– Kakav ljubazan mladić – reče Len. Nagnuo se napred, naslonio laktove na sto i potapšao dečaka po ćelavoj glavi.
malo teksta:
1.
Normu su povukli s programa tog utorka ujutru zbog jednog dečaka koji je ostavljen u radio-stanici. Bio je tih i mršav i držao je cedulju. Recepcionerka ga je pustila da prođe. Sazvan je sastanak.
Sala za sastanke bila je dobro osvetljena, a kroz prozor s pogledom na istok, prema planinama, grad se video kao na dlanu. Kada je Norma ušla, Elmer je sedeo na čelu stola i trljao lice rukama kao da se upravo probudio iz nemirnog, nezadovoljavajućeg sna. Sela je, a on je klimnuo glavom u znak pozdrava, zevnuo i počeo da se igra čepom na bočici lekova koju je izvadio iz džepa. – Donesi mi vode – požalio se svom pomoćniku. – I isprazni pepeljere, Lene. Zaboga.
Dečak je sedeo preko puta Elmera na neudobnoj drvenoj stolici i zurio u svoja stopala. Bio je sitan i krhke građe, očiju premalih za svoje lice. Glava mu je bila obrijana – kako bi se ubile vaške, pretpostavila je Norma. Iznad usana su mu se nazirali jedva vidljivi začeci brkova. Nosio je pohabanu košulju, a neporubljene pantalone pričvrstio je oko struka pertlom.
Norma je sedela leđima okrenuta vratima, od svih najbliže dečaku, pogleda upravljenog ka belom gradu.
Len se vratio s bokalom vode u rukama. Bila je puna mehurića i sivkasta. Elmer je nasuo čašu i progutao dve pilule. Nakašljao se u rukav. – Da pređemo na stvar – reče Elmer nakon što je Len seo. – Žao nam je što smo prekinuli vesti, Norma, ali želeli smo da upoznaš Viktora.
– Dečače, reci joj koliko imaš godina – Len reče.
– Jedanaest – odvratio je dečak jedva čujnim glasom. – Jedanaest i po.
Len je pročistio grlo i bacio pogled ka Elmeru kao da time traži dozvolu da govori. Nakon što mu je šef klimnuo glavom, nastavio je. – To su odlične godine – reče Len. – Nego, došao si da vidiš Normu, zar ne?
– Da – odvrati Viktor.
– Poznaješ li ga?
Norma nije poznavala dečaka.
– Kaže da dolazi iz džungle – nastavio je Len. – Mislili smo da bi želela da ga upoznaš. Zbog emisije.
– Sjajno – rekla je. – Hvala.
Elmer je ustao i prišao prozoru. Bio je tek silueta spram zaslepljuće svetlosti. Norma je dobro poznavala tu panoramu: grad koji se pružao sve do horizonta i dalje. Kad čelo prislonite na staklo prozora, pogled vam seže niz ulicu sve do one široke avenije zakrčene saobraćajem i ljudima, autobusima i taksi-motorima i kolicima s povrćem. Ili se vidi život na gradskim krovovima: odeća okačena na žice pored zarđalih kaveza za piliće, starci koji igraju karte na paketima mleka, psi kako ljutito laju zuba, iskeženih na teškom morskom vazduhu. Jednom je čak videla čoveka kako sedi na svom žutom zaštitnom šlemu i grca u suzama.
Šta god da je u tom trenutku video, Elmer nije pokazivao da je za to i zanteresovan.
Okrenuo se ka njima. – Nije samo iz džungle, Norma. Dolazi iz Sela 1797.
Norma se ispravila. – Šta pokušavaš da mi kažeš, Elmere?
Za tu glasinu su znali da je tačna: masovne grobnice, bezimeni seljani, pobijeni i pobacani u jarkove. Naravno, nikada nisu izveštavali o tome. Niko nije. Već godinama nisu govorili o tome. Osetila je kako joj nešto pritiska grudi.
– Verovatno nije ništa važno – reče Elmer. – Hajde da joj pokažemo cedulju.
Viktor je izvadio parče papira iz džepa, verovatno ono isto koje je pokazao recepcionerki. Predao ga je Elmeru, koji je stavio naočare za čitanje i pročistio grlo. Pročitao je naglas:
Draga gospođice Norma:
Ovo dete se zove Viktor. On je iz Sela 1797 u istočnoj džungli. Mi, stanovnici Sela 1797, prikupili smo naše novce i poslali ga u grad. Želimo da Viktor ima bolji život. Ovde za njega nema budućnosti. Molimo pomozite nam. Prilažemo naš spisak izgubljenih ljudi. Možda će neko od ovih pojedinaca moći da se stara o dečaku. Slušamo Radio izgubljeni grad svake nedelje. Volimo vašu emisiju.
Vaši najveći obožavaoci,
Selo 1797
– Norma – reče Elmer. – Žao mi je. Želeli smo lično da ti kažemo. Bio bi sjajan za emisiju, ali želeli smo da te prvo upozorimo.
– U redu je – protrljala je oči i duboko udahnula. – U redu je.
Norma je mrzela brojeve. Nekada, svaki je grad imao ime; nezgrapno, milenijumsko ime nasleđeno od bog će ga znati kog izumrlog naroda, imena teških suglasnika koji zvuče kao trenje kamena o kamen. Međutim, cela zemlja se modernizovala, pa i njeni zabačeni zakuci. Sve se odvijalo po završetku sukoba – bila je to nova politika vlade. Govorili su da ljudi zaboravljaju stare sisteme. Norma je sumnjala u to. – Znaš li kako se nekada zvalo tvoje selo? – upitala je dečaka.
Viktor je odmahnuo glavom.
Norma je na trenutak zatvorila oči. Verovatno su ga naučili da tako kaže. Kada se rat završio, vlada je zaplenila stare karte. Uklonjene su s polica Narodne biblioteke, građani su ih sami donosili, isecane su iz udžbenika i spaljivane. Norma je pratila dešavanja za potrebe radija, pomešala se s uzbuđenom masom koja se skupila na Novogradskom trgu da posmatra. Nekada, Viktorovo selo je imalo ime, ali ono je sada izgubljeno. Njen suprug Rej nestao je u blizini sela neposredno pre nego što je Nelegitimna legija (NL) pobeđena. Bilo je to pred kraj pobune, pre deset godina. Još uvek ga je čekala.
– Jeste li dobro, gospođice Norma? – upita dečak tankim, piskavim glasom.
Otvorila je oči.
– Kakav ljubazan mladić – reče Len. Nagnuo se napred, naslonio laktove na sto i potapšao dečaka po ćelavoj glavi.
May 5, 2022
Bir iç savaşı ve sonrasındaki 10 yılı anlatan bir kitap olmasına rağmen çok akıcı ve merakınızı ayakta tutan kitaplardan. Beklediğimden çok farklıydı. Hayatın ziyadesiyle kişisel olan alanlarına dahi, otoritenin yumruk gibi inmesini, bir ülkenin geçmişini yok etmek için şehirlerinin, köylerinin dahi nasıl isimsiz bırakılabileceğini görüyor insan. En yakınınız olan insanı dahi ne kadar tanıyabileceğiniz otoritenin toplum üzerinde oluşturduğu baskıya bağlı olarak değişiyor. İç savaşın ülkenin tarihinden, kişisel hayatlara etkisinin, üzerinden 10 yıl geçtikten sonra bile insanların hayatından çekilmediğini görüyorsunuz.bu kasvetli konuya rağmen oldukça hareketli ve okuması heyecanlı, herkese tavsiye edebileceğim bir kitap.
July 15, 2018
This story of Peru’s civil war (1980-2000) is startling in what it reveals about humans—how thin the skin of our civilization and how remarkably base our instincts. I would have plunked the whole story under the rubric ‘science-fiction’ except for the acknowledgements in which Alarcón cites debts from his long period of research.
After twenty years of war, teenagers are like newborns, having no institutional memory. Towns were designated by number, not name. Both sides so distrusted and despised the other they no longer ruminated on guilt. Each was sloppy in their reasoning and callous in their behaviors; they treated one another like a separate species needing extermination. Terrifyingly, it shows us what can come of broken political systems. It happened. Not long ago.
It shows us what comes when intellectuals are jailed and disappeared, when the people are kept in ignorance. They know only that their family members and townspeople are disappearing, they know not where they go. This particular novel focuses on a radio show that the entire country listened to: a golden-voiced newsreader sharing names sent to her by people trying to find individuals they knew and loved. If everyone listens, there is hope that some may eventually be reunited with their families.
What is so astounding about this novel is not only that it previews for anyone interested an outcome when a country follows a path of political warfare and division. Sometimes I think we can still fix our own broken system; after reading this I am sure we must, and sooner please. This novel is a debut by an author who was thirty years old at the time (2007). It doesn’t seem possible he would be capable of such depth and such understanding. But great stresses can force unusual talent.
After twenty years of war, teenagers are like newborns, having no institutional memory. Towns were designated by number, not name. Both sides so distrusted and despised the other they no longer ruminated on guilt. Each was sloppy in their reasoning and callous in their behaviors; they treated one another like a separate species needing extermination. Terrifyingly, it shows us what can come of broken political systems. It happened. Not long ago.
It shows us what comes when intellectuals are jailed and disappeared, when the people are kept in ignorance. They know only that their family members and townspeople are disappearing, they know not where they go. This particular novel focuses on a radio show that the entire country listened to: a golden-voiced newsreader sharing names sent to her by people trying to find individuals they knew and loved. If everyone listens, there is hope that some may eventually be reunited with their families.
What is so astounding about this novel is not only that it previews for anyone interested an outcome when a country follows a path of political warfare and division. Sometimes I think we can still fix our own broken system; after reading this I am sure we must, and sooner please. This novel is a debut by an author who was thirty years old at the time (2007). It doesn’t seem possible he would be capable of such depth and such understanding. But great stresses can force unusual talent.
"Manau carried with him the shame of an exposed man who had imagined his mediocrity to be a secret."and
"….it didn’t seem at this [early] hour to be a city but a museum of a city, a place she was viewing as if from some distant future, an artist’s model built to demonstrate how human beings once lived…"Lately I reviewed the author’s latest collection of stories The King is Always Above the People, which led me to this novel and another of his, At Night We Walk in Circles, published in 2013. Alarcón hosts a podcast for Latin American voices, among other things. He is a critically important voice for North Americans at this time of our own political upheaval, and because he is extraordinary. We need to hear him. Get something of his right now.
July 3, 2020
I read this book for a discussion in the 21st Century Literature group, which is still in its early stages, so I don't want to preempt the discussion too much at this stage.
Alarcón is a Peruvian living in America, and this book must have been at least partly inspired by events in his own country (in his acknowedgments he says "... many people have shared their stories of the war years with me", but the book deliberately steers clear of labelling places and political factions (and personal loyalties) to emphasise the wider relevance of the story.
The book tells a universal and personal story of the effects wars have on the ground, how they divide families and leave many people in limbo, unaware of the fates of their loved ones. His central character is Norma, who hosts a radio program which attempts to reunite separated families, and her own husband went missing in the jungle during the war years ten years earlier. The narrative shifts in perspective, setting and time quite frequently, so it takes a while for the various strands to coalesce, but overall it is quite impressive and moving.
Alarcón is a Peruvian living in America, and this book must have been at least partly inspired by events in his own country (in his acknowedgments he says "... many people have shared their stories of the war years with me", but the book deliberately steers clear of labelling places and political factions (and personal loyalties) to emphasise the wider relevance of the story.
The book tells a universal and personal story of the effects wars have on the ground, how they divide families and leave many people in limbo, unaware of the fates of their loved ones. His central character is Norma, who hosts a radio program which attempts to reunite separated families, and her own husband went missing in the jungle during the war years ten years earlier. The narrative shifts in perspective, setting and time quite frequently, so it takes a while for the various strands to coalesce, but overall it is quite impressive and moving.
April 26, 2025
Bir gün demokrasi ortadan kalkarsa, toplum ne kaybeder?
Kayıp Kentin Radyosu, özgürlüğün ve demokrasinin kısıtlandığı bir dünyada, umudunu kaybetmiş insanların hikayesini anlatıyor. İsimsiz bir ülkede geçen roman, savaş ve kaosun ardından kaybolan insanları arayan bir radyo programının etrafında şekilleniyor. Bu program, susturulmuş ve unutulmuş sesleri duyurarak toplumun hafızasını canlı tutmaya çalışıyor.
Romanın ana karakteri Norma, bu radyo programının sunucusudur. Kaybolan yakınlarını arayan insanların mesajını yayınlayarak onların seslerini duyurur. Norma için bu, sadece bir iş değil, aynı zamanda kayıp eşi Ray’ı arayışında ona yardımcı olan bir yolculuktur. Ancak bu süreç, kayıpların izini sürmekle kalmaz, aynı zamanda rejimin gölgesinde büyüyen korkuyu ve silinmeye zorlanan bir geçmişi de ortaya çıkarır.
Diktatörlük rejimin yarattığı sessizliği yıkan radyo programı, hafızayı koruma, insanlara umut olma, kayıplara direnç gösterme ve toplumsal hatırlatma görevini üstlenir. Roman, totaliter rejimlerin bireyler üzerindeki etkisini, sansürün ve savaşın toplumu nasıl şekillendirdiğini ustalıkla işlerken, hafıza, kayıp ve direnişin evrensel önemini vurgular. İsimsiz ülkede yaşananlar, dünyanın farklı yerlerinde de benzer şekilde yankı bulur ve yaşanır.
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Kayıp Kentin Radyosu, özgürlüğün ve demokrasinin kısıtlandığı bir dünyada, umudunu kaybetmiş insanların hikayesini anlatıyor. İsimsiz bir ülkede geçen roman, savaş ve kaosun ardından kaybolan insanları arayan bir radyo programının etrafında şekilleniyor. Bu program, susturulmuş ve unutulmuş sesleri duyurarak toplumun hafızasını canlı tutmaya çalışıyor.
Romanın ana karakteri Norma, bu radyo programının sunucusudur. Kaybolan yakınlarını arayan insanların mesajını yayınlayarak onların seslerini duyurur. Norma için bu, sadece bir iş değil, aynı zamanda kayıp eşi Ray’ı arayışında ona yardımcı olan bir yolculuktur. Ancak bu süreç, kayıpların izini sürmekle kalmaz, aynı zamanda rejimin gölgesinde büyüyen korkuyu ve silinmeye zorlanan bir geçmişi de ortaya çıkarır.
Diktatörlük rejimin yarattığı sessizliği yıkan radyo programı, hafızayı koruma, insanlara umut olma, kayıplara direnç gösterme ve toplumsal hatırlatma görevini üstlenir. Roman, totaliter rejimlerin bireyler üzerindeki etkisini, sansürün ve savaşın toplumu nasıl şekillendirdiğini ustalıkla işlerken, hafıza, kayıp ve direnişin evrensel önemini vurgular. İsimsiz ülkede yaşananlar, dünyanın farklı yerlerinde de benzer şekilde yankı bulur ve yaşanır.
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January 28, 2023
Kitabın daha 10.sayfasında yazarın hangi konu üzerinden nasıl ilerlemek istediğini öngörebilen bir okur için kalan 300 sayfa çok da keyifli geçmiyor maalesef.
***
Biz ne savaş ve isyan hikayeleri okuduk. Dikta yönetimlerini, korku kültürünü iliklerimizde hissettik. Hem de nasıl muazzam kalemlerden, üstelik gerçekliklerden beslenen, gerçeklikle kafa kafaya rekabete giren hikayelerde. İşte tam da bu yüzden Daniel Alarcon’un yazarlığından etkilenmedim. Fantastiğin, ütopyanın, sosyo-politiğin birbirine bağlanmaya çalışıldığı görkemli ve derinlikli bir edebiyattan ziyade çalışma masasında bunlar için gayret eden sonuç olarak da ortaya yapıttan çok “ürün” çıkarmış bir yazarla karşılaştım.
Günümüz yazarları çıldırmış olmalı. Bizi başa döndürüp birilerinin ayak izlerinden yürütüyorlar.
***
Okuduğum diğer iyi kitaplarla kıyaslamak değil sadece, yeni bir şeyler okumamış olmanın yanı sıra, uzatılmış bir hikayeyi bir de abuk bir finalle bağlama, bunu yapayım derken zamanlarda oluşan mantık hataları vs.
***
Yeni tanıştığım bir yazardan sonra kendime “Bu yazarı neden okumalıyım?” sorusunu sorup muhakkak bir yanıt almalıyım. Bu soru yanıtsız bende. Daniel Alarcon’ı pas geçmek istiyorum.
***
Biz ne savaş ve isyan hikayeleri okuduk. Dikta yönetimlerini, korku kültürünü iliklerimizde hissettik. Hem de nasıl muazzam kalemlerden, üstelik gerçekliklerden beslenen, gerçeklikle kafa kafaya rekabete giren hikayelerde. İşte tam da bu yüzden Daniel Alarcon’un yazarlığından etkilenmedim. Fantastiğin, ütopyanın, sosyo-politiğin birbirine bağlanmaya çalışıldığı görkemli ve derinlikli bir edebiyattan ziyade çalışma masasında bunlar için gayret eden sonuç olarak da ortaya yapıttan çok “ürün” çıkarmış bir yazarla karşılaştım.
Günümüz yazarları çıldırmış olmalı. Bizi başa döndürüp birilerinin ayak izlerinden yürütüyorlar.
***
Okuduğum diğer iyi kitaplarla kıyaslamak değil sadece, yeni bir şeyler okumamış olmanın yanı sıra, uzatılmış bir hikayeyi bir de abuk bir finalle bağlama, bunu yapayım derken zamanlarda oluşan mantık hataları vs.
***
Yeni tanıştığım bir yazardan sonra kendime “Bu yazarı neden okumalıyım?” sorusunu sorup muhakkak bir yanıt almalıyım. Bu soru yanıtsız bende. Daniel Alarcon’ı pas geçmek istiyorum.
March 24, 2012
I liked the general premise of this book and the setting. What I didn't like was that there was a constant back and forth in time, for different characters, to different time periods. A civil war is chaotic; perhaps this is what the author was trying to convey. But sometimes the time regressions and back were in the same paragraph. It was very tiring reading and by about halfway I didn't really care much any more. I was perfectly happy reading the last page, not because I liked the ending which wasn't particularly good, but because I was finally finished. I've given up on books before, even when I've gotten as far as 150 or more pages. I can't say why I didn't give up on this one - perhaps I was in the middle of one of my stubborn streaks.
January 10, 2024
Nota real: 3,75.
Las guerras sucias en Latinoamérica-ya sea la guerra civil en El Salvador, el largo conflicto de Colombia con las FARC, o las guerrillas y la dictadura militar argentina-han generado una abundante literatura. Radio Ciudad Perdida se enmarca en esa tradición, en este caso, inevitablemente remite al conflicto que enfrentó por un lado al Estado peruano y por el otro, al grupo terrorista Sendero Luminoso, de orientación comunista pero que funcionaba también como una suerte de secta (dada la nacionalidad del autor y algunas referencias que se pueden encontrar en la novela).
El autor retrata un país latinoamericano anónimo repleto de pobreza, injusticias sociales, corrupción y diferencias sociales entre indígenas y criollos, que inevitablemente estalla en una guerra civil donde se cometen toda clase de atrocidades.
La novela es muy rica en descripciones, tanto de la ciudad como de la selva, y retrata de manera conmovedora las secuelas de un conflicto donde al final casi todos salen perdiendo. Pero no le doy cinco estrellas por dos motivos. El primero, los constantes saltos temporales, que llevaban la historia veinte o diez años adelante o atrás constantemente. El segundo, algunos aspectos un tanto inverosímiles de la historia (spoilers a continuación): encuentro muy poco creíble que la protagonista no supiera que su marido formaba parte de la insurgencia. En general, las personas que forman parte de grupos así tienen creencias muy firmes que comparten con su círculos íntimo. Además, encontré absurdo que varios personajes pusieran en duda la existencia de la insurgencia y la consideraran una invención de Estados Unidos. Uno puede estar de acuerdo o no con las guerrillas que asolaron el continente americano en los 70, 80 y 90, pero es indudable que existieron.
Las guerras sucias en Latinoamérica-ya sea la guerra civil en El Salvador, el largo conflicto de Colombia con las FARC, o las guerrillas y la dictadura militar argentina-han generado una abundante literatura. Radio Ciudad Perdida se enmarca en esa tradición, en este caso, inevitablemente remite al conflicto que enfrentó por un lado al Estado peruano y por el otro, al grupo terrorista Sendero Luminoso, de orientación comunista pero que funcionaba también como una suerte de secta (dada la nacionalidad del autor y algunas referencias que se pueden encontrar en la novela).
El autor retrata un país latinoamericano anónimo repleto de pobreza, injusticias sociales, corrupción y diferencias sociales entre indígenas y criollos, que inevitablemente estalla en una guerra civil donde se cometen toda clase de atrocidades.
La novela es muy rica en descripciones, tanto de la ciudad como de la selva, y retrata de manera conmovedora las secuelas de un conflicto donde al final casi todos salen perdiendo. Pero no le doy cinco estrellas por dos motivos. El primero, los constantes saltos temporales, que llevaban la historia veinte o diez años adelante o atrás constantemente. El segundo, algunos aspectos un tanto inverosímiles de la historia (spoilers a continuación): encuentro muy poco creíble que la protagonista no supiera que su marido formaba parte de la insurgencia. En general, las personas que forman parte de grupos así tienen creencias muy firmes que comparten con su círculos íntimo. Además, encontré absurdo que varios personajes pusieran en duda la existencia de la insurgencia y la consideraran una invención de Estados Unidos. Uno puede estar de acuerdo o no con las guerrillas que asolaron el continente americano en los 70, 80 y 90, pero es indudable que existieron.
September 30, 2008
I am not a subscriber. Alarcon has talent and I sympathize with his politics; but something was missing from "Lost City Radio." Perhaps the characters were just a bit too similar; perhaps the all-pervasive traumatized vacancy offered too little traction or perhaps everything was knit together just a bit too tightly. The novel needed to surge somehow, in some direction or around something; but it lingered and reminisced; at most, it brooded.
"The war had bred a general exhaustion. It was a city of sleepwalkers now, a place where another bomb hardly registered, where the Great Blackouts were now monthly occurrences, announced in vitriolic pamphlets slipped beneath windshield wipers like shopping circulars."
Fair enough. Alarcon communicates that successfully. But in his world of characters about whom a reader should care very much, Alarcon gives his readers too many reasons to disengage. However, on a syllabus about fascism, totalitarianism, and the psychological impact of terrorism and government surveillance, maybe alongside some Hannah Arendt, this book would certainly have its place: very teachable.
"The war had bred a general exhaustion. It was a city of sleepwalkers now, a place where another bomb hardly registered, where the Great Blackouts were now monthly occurrences, announced in vitriolic pamphlets slipped beneath windshield wipers like shopping circulars."
Fair enough. Alarcon communicates that successfully. But in his world of characters about whom a reader should care very much, Alarcon gives his readers too many reasons to disengage. However, on a syllabus about fascism, totalitarianism, and the psychological impact of terrorism and government surveillance, maybe alongside some Hannah Arendt, this book would certainly have its place: very teachable.
June 30, 2020
Lost City Radio by Daniel Alarcón takes place in an unnamed South American country in the aftermath of a civil war. The population continues to experience disappearances, curfews, unlawful imprisonment, and torture. In the hope of reconnecting with the missing, people tune in every week to hear Norma, the host of Lost City Radio. She reads the names submitted to her of missing relatives, friends, and loved ones in an attempt to reunite them with their families. When a young boy arrives at the radio station with a list of names of missing loved ones from his village in the jungle, Norma is shocked to discover her husband’s name is on the list. She has spent the last decade of her life since his disappearance waiting for him to come home.
The narrative alternates between the present and the past. The past takes the form of a series flashbacks which reveal the backstory of Rey, Norma’s husband; their meeting; his arrest and torture for being a suspected member of the Illegitimate Legion, a group actively engaged in overthrowing the oppressive government; their marriage; and his periodic disappearances in the jungle, ostensibly to research the medicinal properties of certain jungle plants. The present takes us through Norma’s day at the station; her meeting with the young boy; the discovery of her husband’s name on the list of missing. It concludes with reading their names on the air, including the name of her husband, which may be considered a subversive act.
Alarcón skillfully captures the experiences of a society living under an autocratic government. History is re-written; maps are re-drawn; villages and city landmarks are re-named. An official policy is adopted of erasing traces of the past both physically and in the collective and individual memory. People don’t know who can be trusted and who is an informant for the government. They have nowhere to turn for help if a loved one is carted off to an unknown destination never to reappear, again. Arrests are made on the flimsiest of suspicions. Just the appearance of being friendly with someone deemed a suspect or of asking too many questions is enough to get you arrested. Torture is inflicted with impunity. Young men, barely old enough to have facial hair, enter villages waving their guns, terrorizing the population, demanding food, and kidnapping children as recruits. Censorship, self-censorship, and fear of reprisals are woven into the fabric of everyday life.
The impact on the population is devastating. A universal fear permeates every aspect of life. Flashbacks come in half-suppressed thoughts and intrude on the present in unexpected ways, triggered by a smell, a sound, or an image. Questions remain unanswered. Should one even try to remember? Is it better to cultivate amnesia? Is it safe to ask about a missing relative or a loved one? What recourse is there for justice when living under a totalitarian government?
It would be easy to dismiss the novel as depicting a dystopian society, as an exaggeration of the horrors that could happen. But it would be a mistake to do so. Millions of people across the globe currently live under tyrannical regimes where they are forced to consume a daily diet of injustice and oppression. The novel serves as a reminder of the fragility of democratic institutions and of the urgency to safeguard those institutions to preserve democratic freedoms.
Highly recommended for its perceptive depiction of a society living under tyranny.
My book reviews are also available at www.tamaraaghajaffar.com
The narrative alternates between the present and the past. The past takes the form of a series flashbacks which reveal the backstory of Rey, Norma’s husband; their meeting; his arrest and torture for being a suspected member of the Illegitimate Legion, a group actively engaged in overthrowing the oppressive government; their marriage; and his periodic disappearances in the jungle, ostensibly to research the medicinal properties of certain jungle plants. The present takes us through Norma’s day at the station; her meeting with the young boy; the discovery of her husband’s name on the list of missing. It concludes with reading their names on the air, including the name of her husband, which may be considered a subversive act.
Alarcón skillfully captures the experiences of a society living under an autocratic government. History is re-written; maps are re-drawn; villages and city landmarks are re-named. An official policy is adopted of erasing traces of the past both physically and in the collective and individual memory. People don’t know who can be trusted and who is an informant for the government. They have nowhere to turn for help if a loved one is carted off to an unknown destination never to reappear, again. Arrests are made on the flimsiest of suspicions. Just the appearance of being friendly with someone deemed a suspect or of asking too many questions is enough to get you arrested. Torture is inflicted with impunity. Young men, barely old enough to have facial hair, enter villages waving their guns, terrorizing the population, demanding food, and kidnapping children as recruits. Censorship, self-censorship, and fear of reprisals are woven into the fabric of everyday life.
The impact on the population is devastating. A universal fear permeates every aspect of life. Flashbacks come in half-suppressed thoughts and intrude on the present in unexpected ways, triggered by a smell, a sound, or an image. Questions remain unanswered. Should one even try to remember? Is it better to cultivate amnesia? Is it safe to ask about a missing relative or a loved one? What recourse is there for justice when living under a totalitarian government?
It would be easy to dismiss the novel as depicting a dystopian society, as an exaggeration of the horrors that could happen. But it would be a mistake to do so. Millions of people across the globe currently live under tyrannical regimes where they are forced to consume a daily diet of injustice and oppression. The novel serves as a reminder of the fragility of democratic institutions and of the urgency to safeguard those institutions to preserve democratic freedoms.
Highly recommended for its perceptive depiction of a society living under tyranny.
My book reviews are also available at www.tamaraaghajaffar.com
October 27, 2016
In an unnamed city in an unnamed South American country, Norma is the beloved on-air host of “Lost City Radio,” where the nation’s lost and tormented souls try to reconnect with loved ones they’ve lost track of. It is ten years since the most recent civil war ended – at least officially. But people still live in fear of reprisal and even Norma’s show isn’t immune to the sort of self-censorship that comes from self-preservation. Norma’s husband is among the missing, and she daren’t read his name aloud.
The powerful thing about this book is that it is so universal. While it takes place in South America, it could take place in many countries around the world. Alarcon explores what it means to live in constant fear, trusting no one, afraid that any small slip of the tongue may mark you as the enemy or a collaborator, leaving you second-guessing every small gesture or the posture of that stranger on the street you’ve seen once too often recently. His use of the orphan boy, Victor, to trigger the memories of the adults he comes across is an effective technique. For like most children, Victor’s needs are simple and immediate. He doesn’t understand the larger implications of his mission to take a list of missing from his small mountain village to the large city radio station. He only knows that he is alone, and that this is his chance to find his father.
Alarcon mixes tenses fluidly and sometimes within one paragraph. A remark or smell will trigger a memory and the text follows the character’s wandering mind as he or she remembers something that happened in the past. Then, just as suddenly as if awakening from a dream, the action is back in the present and we are back on the bus headed for the city, or back in the café having lunch. It sounds as if this would be very confusing, but Alarcon is skilled at making this device work wonderfully.
In the end, only the reader knows what happened to one missing person, while being left to wonder what will happen to the many.
The powerful thing about this book is that it is so universal. While it takes place in South America, it could take place in many countries around the world. Alarcon explores what it means to live in constant fear, trusting no one, afraid that any small slip of the tongue may mark you as the enemy or a collaborator, leaving you second-guessing every small gesture or the posture of that stranger on the street you’ve seen once too often recently. His use of the orphan boy, Victor, to trigger the memories of the adults he comes across is an effective technique. For like most children, Victor’s needs are simple and immediate. He doesn’t understand the larger implications of his mission to take a list of missing from his small mountain village to the large city radio station. He only knows that he is alone, and that this is his chance to find his father.
Alarcon mixes tenses fluidly and sometimes within one paragraph. A remark or smell will trigger a memory and the text follows the character’s wandering mind as he or she remembers something that happened in the past. Then, just as suddenly as if awakening from a dream, the action is back in the present and we are back on the bus headed for the city, or back in the café having lunch. It sounds as if this would be very confusing, but Alarcon is skilled at making this device work wonderfully.
In the end, only the reader knows what happened to one missing person, while being left to wonder what will happen to the many.
February 16, 2017
Faşizmin, dünyanın neresi olduğu hiç farketmeden aynı senaryoları yazması ne garip! Güney Amerika'nın adı verilmeyen bir ülkesinde yaşanan iç savaş sırasında yakınlarını kaybeden insanların bağlandığı bir radyo programı üzerinden dönen hikayede, hep geçmişte ve bugün bu ülkede yaşadıklarımızı okur gibi oldum. Kitabın söyledikleri ve duruşuyla ilgili bir sorun yok ama edebi olarak biraz ruhsuz, mekanik bir metin olduğunu düşünüyorum. Bu sebepten elimde tahmin etmediğim kadar uzun süre kaldı. Arka kapak tanıtım yazısının kitabın genelinden daha çarpıcı olduğunu söylesem çok mu haksızlık etmiş olurum bilemedim.
April 4, 2008
like a friendship that would otherwise be a great romance, this novel has everything but the spark. intelligence, imagination, beauty, empathy, promise, even poise, yet swoon i could not (despite attempts to convince myself that i should have enjoyed it more than i did). alarcón is clearly quite talented, and, considering his relative youth, perhaps lost city radio is but a harbinger of the many exceptional, more finely honed works he seems capable of creating.
June 26, 2019
Embrenhando-se na selva do romance
Romance de estreia do peruano Daniel Alarcón, "Rádio Cidade Perdida" (2007) foi escrito seis anos antes de "À Noite Andamos em Círculos" (2013) e é um registro literário bem menos maduro de sua prosa. Narrado com uma frieza quase alheia aos dramas de seus personagens, num timbre monótono que poucas brechas nos dá para identificação com suas histórias, o livro parece ser um espelho formal do duro ofício de Norma - uma radialista que comanda um programa sobre desaparecidos numa metrópole assombrada pela guerra civil.
Em suas locuções madrugada adentro, Norma se depara com situações imprevistas como um pai reclamando a morte de um filho pelo Exército ou um miliciano anônimo assumindo a autoria de um assassinato e indicando onde e como encontrar o corpo. Tudo isso tem que ser contornado com interrupções na transmissão e a execução de discos inteiros de bolero, a fim de que Norma não tenha o mesmo destino que o seu marido - um cientista com passado e presente de certa forma ligados à guerra - provavelmente levou: também ele há dez anos desaparecido, após se embrenhar na selva a pretexto de uma pesquisa.
O cotidiano de Norma sofre uma reviravolta após a visita de Victor, um menino órfão de pai e mãe que viaja de uma aldeia até a metrópole com a incumbência de entregar-lhe uma lista feita no povoado, com o nome de alguns desaparecidos. Victor é convidado a participar de uma série especial do programa que tem a finalidade de recuperar seus índices de audiência. Por não ter onde ficar, acaba se hospedando na casa de Norma, vazia desde o sumiço de seu marido, Rey.
Numa terceira pessoa insípida e distante, Alarcón passeia pelos enredos desses personagens, indo do presente ao passado, reconstituindo a viagem de Victor, a forma como perdeu sua mãe num afogamento, a história de amor de Norma e o passado de Rey. Os capítulos são cheios de subtextos que mais tarde serão preenchidos com uma cadeia de elos imprevistos, que como esperado vão tornar o mistério em torno do desaparecimento de Rey mais claro.
Presente e passado por vezes se veem imbricados numa mesma cena, em passagens confusas e transições frágeis, que empurram o leitor em uma temporalidade pantanosa, cuja travessia só se dá com os pés no chão quando já é possível vislumbrar pontes mais seguras, próximo ao final do livro. É quando a incursão de Alarcón pelos recônditos de sua pátria-mãe e sua tradição ancestral (que ele vai explorar de maneira assombrosa mais tarde, em seu segundo romance) torna-se um empreendimento maior e o autor - ao contrário dos seus personagens - consegue superar a ausência e desbravar a selva do romance sem perder o paradeiro.
Romance de estreia do peruano Daniel Alarcón, "Rádio Cidade Perdida" (2007) foi escrito seis anos antes de "À Noite Andamos em Círculos" (2013) e é um registro literário bem menos maduro de sua prosa. Narrado com uma frieza quase alheia aos dramas de seus personagens, num timbre monótono que poucas brechas nos dá para identificação com suas histórias, o livro parece ser um espelho formal do duro ofício de Norma - uma radialista que comanda um programa sobre desaparecidos numa metrópole assombrada pela guerra civil.
Em suas locuções madrugada adentro, Norma se depara com situações imprevistas como um pai reclamando a morte de um filho pelo Exército ou um miliciano anônimo assumindo a autoria de um assassinato e indicando onde e como encontrar o corpo. Tudo isso tem que ser contornado com interrupções na transmissão e a execução de discos inteiros de bolero, a fim de que Norma não tenha o mesmo destino que o seu marido - um cientista com passado e presente de certa forma ligados à guerra - provavelmente levou: também ele há dez anos desaparecido, após se embrenhar na selva a pretexto de uma pesquisa.
O cotidiano de Norma sofre uma reviravolta após a visita de Victor, um menino órfão de pai e mãe que viaja de uma aldeia até a metrópole com a incumbência de entregar-lhe uma lista feita no povoado, com o nome de alguns desaparecidos. Victor é convidado a participar de uma série especial do programa que tem a finalidade de recuperar seus índices de audiência. Por não ter onde ficar, acaba se hospedando na casa de Norma, vazia desde o sumiço de seu marido, Rey.
Numa terceira pessoa insípida e distante, Alarcón passeia pelos enredos desses personagens, indo do presente ao passado, reconstituindo a viagem de Victor, a forma como perdeu sua mãe num afogamento, a história de amor de Norma e o passado de Rey. Os capítulos são cheios de subtextos que mais tarde serão preenchidos com uma cadeia de elos imprevistos, que como esperado vão tornar o mistério em torno do desaparecimento de Rey mais claro.
Presente e passado por vezes se veem imbricados numa mesma cena, em passagens confusas e transições frágeis, que empurram o leitor em uma temporalidade pantanosa, cuja travessia só se dá com os pés no chão quando já é possível vislumbrar pontes mais seguras, próximo ao final do livro. É quando a incursão de Alarcón pelos recônditos de sua pátria-mãe e sua tradição ancestral (que ele vai explorar de maneira assombrosa mais tarde, em seu segundo romance) torna-se um empreendimento maior e o autor - ao contrário dos seus personagens - consegue superar a ausência e desbravar a selva do romance sem perder o paradeiro.
left-unfinished
June 4, 2008I've gotten 56 pages into it so far and have nothing to complain about, which is unusual for me. I don't think of it as having a sci-fi atmosphere, as some readers suggest. Though it does have the dystopian bearings of books like 1984 and We, those worlds are all too recognizable and easy to identify with. No flying cars or talking robots here. What the book does have is clean, evocative language that creates a vivid and foreign landscape. And no, Alarcon doesn't sprinkle in Spanish words to remind us we're in South America or to give his characters a cultural flavor. (Junot Diaz, pay attention.)
So what's wrong with me? Why aren't I racing through this? I've yet to figure that out. I do want to know what happens, but . . . but . . . Does it lack momentum? Am I lying to myself about caring about the characters?
No, I figured out what's bugging me. I'll admit first I never cared for the writing of 1984 or Brave New World, found many passages in both embarrassing even. But those books I read in high school, where there was no choice (for me) not to finish them, and even in college, when assigned We in a class, I finished it, though not caring for it and finding the ending very problematic. So now we have Alarcon, who is actually much more readable and delivers a fluid prose, sympathetic characters, and a puzzle that makes you want to know what happens.
So what's the problem? Beneath my approval of the writing and my interest in the story, I feel Alarcon hasn't created a concrete framework for his unnamed country. It isn't enough to know people always try to take over the government or that wars are always started or imagined by the government. Perhaps Alarcon doesn't want to get bogged down in the specifics of a particular corruption or scandal; he wants to make his country's problems and his message against war universal, which is commendable in theory, but these generalities don't make for a convincing book. His world feels like an experiment, but an incomplete one with not all the instructions identified. Maybe such problems are inevitable when an author creates and speaks for a society rather than a finite group of individuals. Is that what the book jacket reviews are hinting at when they call this book "ambitious"?
I watched "In the Valley of Elah" a few nights ago. It portrayed the human costs of war on our soldiers: on their psyche, their moral boundaries, their diminishing value of human life. This book, by contrast, seems too abstract to pierce my consciousness. Make me care!
I think I would tolerate it more if it were read to me. Frank read me The Trial, whose coquettish vagueness would otherwise bring me to a halt. That's the way to finish this.
So what's wrong with me? Why aren't I racing through this? I've yet to figure that out. I do want to know what happens, but . . . but . . . Does it lack momentum? Am I lying to myself about caring about the characters?
No, I figured out what's bugging me. I'll admit first I never cared for the writing of 1984 or Brave New World, found many passages in both embarrassing even. But those books I read in high school, where there was no choice (for me) not to finish them, and even in college, when assigned We in a class, I finished it, though not caring for it and finding the ending very problematic. So now we have Alarcon, who is actually much more readable and delivers a fluid prose, sympathetic characters, and a puzzle that makes you want to know what happens.
So what's the problem? Beneath my approval of the writing and my interest in the story, I feel Alarcon hasn't created a concrete framework for his unnamed country. It isn't enough to know people always try to take over the government or that wars are always started or imagined by the government. Perhaps Alarcon doesn't want to get bogged down in the specifics of a particular corruption or scandal; he wants to make his country's problems and his message against war universal, which is commendable in theory, but these generalities don't make for a convincing book. His world feels like an experiment, but an incomplete one with not all the instructions identified. Maybe such problems are inevitable when an author creates and speaks for a society rather than a finite group of individuals. Is that what the book jacket reviews are hinting at when they call this book "ambitious"?
I watched "In the Valley of Elah" a few nights ago. It portrayed the human costs of war on our soldiers: on their psyche, their moral boundaries, their diminishing value of human life. This book, by contrast, seems too abstract to pierce my consciousness. Make me care!
I think I would tolerate it more if it were read to me. Frank read me The Trial, whose coquettish vagueness would otherwise bring me to a halt. That's the way to finish this.
July 6, 2007
So beautiful and sad. The main character, Norma, lives in the capital city of an unnamed Latin American country experiencing an uneasy peace after the end of a decade-long civil war. Norma--or rather, her voice--is a kind of national icon because of her radio show, to which listeners call and tell her about their friends and family who have disappeared in the war, in the hopes that they're alive and will hear. Norma is somewhat disillusioned with the show, but continues partly out of her own unarticulated hope that it will help her find her own missing husband.
War infiltrates every detail of this book. Senseless political violence, or the threat of it, is omnipresent, and everyone is missing someone. What Alarcon does most vividly in this novel, though, is show how connections are made in the midst of the randomness, how people build their lives in that environment, and how their lives disintegrate again. Just great.
War infiltrates every detail of this book. Senseless political violence, or the threat of it, is omnipresent, and everyone is missing someone. What Alarcon does most vividly in this novel, though, is show how connections are made in the midst of the randomness, how people build their lives in that environment, and how their lives disintegrate again. Just great.
July 15, 2020
I kind of stumbled with this novel and couldn't adapt to the author's literary style. I kept catching myself trying to edit the prose in my mind rather than reading the prose and trying to understand and appreciate what the author wrote. I would restucture a sentence when the author placed an effect before a cause, or start erasing material that seemed irrelevant to the story line, trying to impose how I wanted the narrative to be written. We often blame the author in these situations and I can confidently claim the problem was mine since I read this with several others and I was the only person having a difficulty getting into the book. This was neither fair to the book or myself because there was a good story here about guerrilla actons in Peru and overly authoritative police response, dual identities and mistaken identities, love and its consequences. I will revisit this author with a more attentive and less corrective eye in the future.
October 25, 2007
Daniel Alarcon does a remarkable job of putting the reader in the environment of a country that has been at war with itself for so long that the people have lost touch with themselves. What happens to a man when a teenaged prank is mistaken as revolutionary action and alters his life forever? What happens to a newsperson who goes on the air each week but can't report the news? How are people changed psychologically when they never know where the next blow will come from, when there is no logic to the cause and effect? I will be thinking about this book for a long time.
June 22, 2017
This is a vivid story, intensely described. I love the way the same forward narrative direction is proceeding simultaneously from two times a decade apart. For a random selection, this turned out to be a very good choice.
May 28, 2025
In the aftermath of civil war, many people are missing – either caught up in the conflict and perhaps dead, or pulled away from their isolated communities and sucked into the growing city. Out of this has grown a radio programme, broadcasting the names of the missing and providing a point of contact for those still alive and looking for each other. Norma is the voice of the programme, and has grown to be trusted and loved by her desperate listeners. Norma understands too well how they feel. Her own husband, Rey, is one of the missing, having disappeared in the jungle during the war. He claimed that his visits to the jungle were part of his studies in ethnobotany, but he was suspected of being part of the rebel group that started the war. Even Norma isn’t sure of the truth, though she suspects his involvement. She loved him – they were still new together – and can’t move on with her life without knowing what happened to him. The story begins when a young boy is sent to the city to bring Norma a list of those missing from his jungle village – a village very near to where Rey was last seen.
The country and city are unnamed (which seems to be a South and Central American thing, and is rather annoying, quite frankly), but are probably Peru, given Alarcón’s heritage, and possibly Lima, though that’s a guess. I suspect the idea of leaving places unnamed is to highlight that the story is not specific to one war in one country, but is looking at the universal impact of civil wars generally, and the many civil wars in the last decades in South America specifically.
I loved Alarcón’s later book, At Night We Walk in Circles, which has similar themes in that it is about a country (probably Peru) still recovering after a civil war. This one is his debut and, while it shows the promise that the later book fulfilled, it is not in the same league. This one feels worthy and a little too didactic. There’s not much grey in it – the arguments are presented as black and white. There’s none of the humour or mystery that made the later book entertaining even as it dealt with some serious subject matter. This one is rather monotone, that tone being of a sorrowful lament. I almost felt that this one was showing the research that became the basis for a more imaginative take in At Night We Walk in Circles.
Alarcón writes well, but I wondered why he, a very young man at the time of writing, chose to make his main character a woman. Norma didn’t really ring true to me, I’m afraid, She is intelligent, talented, resourceful and successful, and yet she seems frozen by the loss of a husband ten years ago whom she hadn’t known long and whom even she suspects of lying to her. I felt that her personality didn’t quite match the part she was made to play. I also tire of the suggestion that motherhood or the lack of it is the most important aspect of every woman’s life. Seriously, men, it isn’t, any more than football is the most important aspect of all men’s lives. Some women feel incomplete unless they are mothers, but some women actually feel quite complete all on their own! Just like some men don’t like sport. Women writers fall into this habit too, but male writers still tend to see women as partners for men or mothers for children, or occasionally as daughters for fathers, but it’s too rare for them to be seen as individual human beings complete in themselves. Rant over!
Despite finding Norma a bit annoying as a character, overall the book gives an interesting look at the fractured societies left behind when war ends. This war ended with the wrong side winning, and the country is now under an authoritarian dictatorship, so Alarcón also shows the difficulties of finding truth when anything politically sensitive is censored. Norma can’t read out her husband’s name on her show because he may have been a rebel, and if he’s on a list of ‘banned’ people, the government may close the radio station down. So how does she find out if he’s dead or imprisoned, or if he has perhaps taken on a new identity to hide from the authorities? Many are in the same position, so the show’s producers feel they have to self-censor – to check all the names before they risk reading out any messages that may bring the authorities down on them.
Had I read this first, I would doubtless have called it a promising debut and looked forward to seeing how Alarcón developed. Reading it second, I found it a little disappointing since it didn’t live up to my expectations from his later book. So I know the answer – Alarcón developed well! And I’m looking forward to seeing his continuing development in the future, should he produce another novel – it’s been twelve years since his last.
www.fictionfanblog.wordpress.com
The country and city are unnamed (which seems to be a South and Central American thing, and is rather annoying, quite frankly), but are probably Peru, given Alarcón’s heritage, and possibly Lima, though that’s a guess. I suspect the idea of leaving places unnamed is to highlight that the story is not specific to one war in one country, but is looking at the universal impact of civil wars generally, and the many civil wars in the last decades in South America specifically.
I loved Alarcón’s later book, At Night We Walk in Circles, which has similar themes in that it is about a country (probably Peru) still recovering after a civil war. This one is his debut and, while it shows the promise that the later book fulfilled, it is not in the same league. This one feels worthy and a little too didactic. There’s not much grey in it – the arguments are presented as black and white. There’s none of the humour or mystery that made the later book entertaining even as it dealt with some serious subject matter. This one is rather monotone, that tone being of a sorrowful lament. I almost felt that this one was showing the research that became the basis for a more imaginative take in At Night We Walk in Circles.
Alarcón writes well, but I wondered why he, a very young man at the time of writing, chose to make his main character a woman. Norma didn’t really ring true to me, I’m afraid, She is intelligent, talented, resourceful and successful, and yet she seems frozen by the loss of a husband ten years ago whom she hadn’t known long and whom even she suspects of lying to her. I felt that her personality didn’t quite match the part she was made to play. I also tire of the suggestion that motherhood or the lack of it is the most important aspect of every woman’s life. Seriously, men, it isn’t, any more than football is the most important aspect of all men’s lives. Some women feel incomplete unless they are mothers, but some women actually feel quite complete all on their own! Just like some men don’t like sport. Women writers fall into this habit too, but male writers still tend to see women as partners for men or mothers for children, or occasionally as daughters for fathers, but it’s too rare for them to be seen as individual human beings complete in themselves. Rant over!
Despite finding Norma a bit annoying as a character, overall the book gives an interesting look at the fractured societies left behind when war ends. This war ended with the wrong side winning, and the country is now under an authoritarian dictatorship, so Alarcón also shows the difficulties of finding truth when anything politically sensitive is censored. Norma can’t read out her husband’s name on her show because he may have been a rebel, and if he’s on a list of ‘banned’ people, the government may close the radio station down. So how does she find out if he’s dead or imprisoned, or if he has perhaps taken on a new identity to hide from the authorities? Many are in the same position, so the show’s producers feel they have to self-censor – to check all the names before they risk reading out any messages that may bring the authorities down on them.
Had I read this first, I would doubtless have called it a promising debut and looked forward to seeing how Alarcón developed. Reading it second, I found it a little disappointing since it didn’t live up to my expectations from his later book. So I know the answer – Alarcón developed well! And I’m looking forward to seeing his continuing development in the future, should he produce another novel – it’s been twelve years since his last.
www.fictionfanblog.wordpress.com
July 10, 2019
I had to get past my preconceptions of what this book was supposed to be in order to appreciate it for what it was. I **thought** it was going to be sort of a liberal chick-historicaromance, where I'd get to learn a few facts about Peruvian geopolitics in the 1980s and 1990s, and get swept along by tales of lost love, and maybe vicariously participate in a brave resistance movement. Instead, what I got was a much quieter tale of the aftermath of terrible upheaval, the sort of moral grey fog that settles in on people who once had much clarity about which side was right and which side was wrong, but now are just living with the terrible grief of so many lives lost. Also -- it's not really a girl book at all, despite having a woman as its nominal main character. The narrative energy always settles around the men in this book. Not a bad thing -- just a thing that's not easy to tell from the marketing material.
Anyway, if you're looking to use this book to learn something about recent South American history, it's no good for that. The action actually takes place in a "nameless South American country" whose status in reality is parallel with the cities in China Mieville's The City and The City and Colson Whitehead's The Intuitionist. The generic setting (which some reviewers on goodreads equate with sci-fi -- very provocative) allows it to focus intensively on the affects of aftermath, making it something much more original than your average airport-worthy historical novel.
Anyway, if you're looking to use this book to learn something about recent South American history, it's no good for that. The action actually takes place in a "nameless South American country" whose status in reality is parallel with the cities in China Mieville's The City and The City and Colson Whitehead's The Intuitionist. The generic setting (which some reviewers on goodreads equate with sci-fi -- very provocative) allows it to focus intensively on the affects of aftermath, making it something much more original than your average airport-worthy historical novel.
May 8, 2012
Not far into Daniel Alarcon’s Lost City Radio I began to have negative thoughts. I’d been so impressed by the brilliance of his debut short story
collection War by Candlelight (see my comments from April 25, 2007) that I wanted more brilliance and was not finding it. The tale seemed to wander, seemed to lack the taut focus of most of Candlelight’s stories. I wondered if this wasn’t another example of a short story craftsman defeated by the demands of the novel form. Though disappointed, I forged on, for the characters and their situations were compelling enough even if the storytelling technique was lacking. Around halfway through I changed my mind.
I think the sense of wandering comes from the unconventional way that Alarcon chooses to reveal the story’s action. At first, it seemed to me ordinary flashback. Then the flashbacks’ chronology became jumbled, and at times it seemed almost as if the story was being told backwards--not as a memory as in a regular flashback, but with final scenes coming before beginning scenes, then scenes from the middle popping up. None of it was confusing in the sense that I lost track of where I was in the chronology of events, just puzzling about why one particular episode would appear in a particular place. Why the young boy’s birth, for example, should be treated not only after his appearance in the story as a 10-year-old, but after his earlier boyhood and schooldays.
It began to dawn on me that Alarcon’s montage of scenes is perfectly consonant with the jumbled experience of the characters and their own places in the on-again-off-again civil war that dominates their lives. Every life in Lost City’s composite South American country is defined by lives lost. Mothers, fathers, children, friends have all disappeared into the hands of government or guerillas, and relatives and friends end up spending great portions of their lives wondering, grieving, and searching.
The novel’s protagonist is Norma, a late-night radio host whose spellbinding voice has captivated the country from jungle to coastal desert, and whose program tries to help reunite people separated by the war. It’s a dangerous business for her as well as for the broadcastees. For some, being found means death. To others, the searcher can bring governmental (or guerrilla) retribution on himself. The radio station itself must avoid announcing certain names which the government has demanded never be uttered. Norma has her own loss, her own grief, to deal with, and that search is at the center of the novel. How much she knows compared to how much we know heightens the irony, and sometimes the suspense comes from wondering how much of what we already know she will discover and how it will affect her. Keeping that suspense flowing is part of the victory of Alarcon’s technique.
The focus of Lost City Radio is personal, but the scope covers a great deal of history and geography. I believe you’ll end up grieving, as I did, not only for the book’s characters, but for the millions who are trapped in the situation that Alarcon describes. A significant piece of writing and of history. I look forward to more from him.
collection War by Candlelight (see my comments from April 25, 2007) that I wanted more brilliance and was not finding it. The tale seemed to wander, seemed to lack the taut focus of most of Candlelight’s stories. I wondered if this wasn’t another example of a short story craftsman defeated by the demands of the novel form. Though disappointed, I forged on, for the characters and their situations were compelling enough even if the storytelling technique was lacking. Around halfway through I changed my mind.
I think the sense of wandering comes from the unconventional way that Alarcon chooses to reveal the story’s action. At first, it seemed to me ordinary flashback. Then the flashbacks’ chronology became jumbled, and at times it seemed almost as if the story was being told backwards--not as a memory as in a regular flashback, but with final scenes coming before beginning scenes, then scenes from the middle popping up. None of it was confusing in the sense that I lost track of where I was in the chronology of events, just puzzling about why one particular episode would appear in a particular place. Why the young boy’s birth, for example, should be treated not only after his appearance in the story as a 10-year-old, but after his earlier boyhood and schooldays.
It began to dawn on me that Alarcon’s montage of scenes is perfectly consonant with the jumbled experience of the characters and their own places in the on-again-off-again civil war that dominates their lives. Every life in Lost City’s composite South American country is defined by lives lost. Mothers, fathers, children, friends have all disappeared into the hands of government or guerillas, and relatives and friends end up spending great portions of their lives wondering, grieving, and searching.
The novel’s protagonist is Norma, a late-night radio host whose spellbinding voice has captivated the country from jungle to coastal desert, and whose program tries to help reunite people separated by the war. It’s a dangerous business for her as well as for the broadcastees. For some, being found means death. To others, the searcher can bring governmental (or guerrilla) retribution on himself. The radio station itself must avoid announcing certain names which the government has demanded never be uttered. Norma has her own loss, her own grief, to deal with, and that search is at the center of the novel. How much she knows compared to how much we know heightens the irony, and sometimes the suspense comes from wondering how much of what we already know she will discover and how it will affect her. Keeping that suspense flowing is part of the victory of Alarcon’s technique.
The focus of Lost City Radio is personal, but the scope covers a great deal of history and geography. I believe you’ll end up grieving, as I did, not only for the book’s characters, but for the millions who are trapped in the situation that Alarcon describes. A significant piece of writing and of history. I look forward to more from him.
March 30, 2018
No me gustó tanto como su otra novela, At Night We Walk In Circles, pero me aguantó la atención mientras que viajé por Irlanda.
El cuento principalmente se trata de Norma, una deejay trabajando en la ultima emisora que queda en un país suramericano sin nombre. Norma perdió su marido hace diez años al final de la guerra civil que quebró mucho de la sociedad civil en el país. (La nueva dictadura hasta reemplazó los nombres de las ciudades con números.) De pronto aparece un niño de la selva que tiene una lista de desaparecidos para Norma leer en su programa de radio. Hay algo sospechoso de la lista y quizás peligroso — la dictadura prohibe que el pueblo hable abiertamente de la guerra civil. Pero existe una area gris para algunos que fueron desaparecidos durante igual y la emisora ve una oportunidad para lograr altas puntuaciones. Norma, por su parte, no está segura como preceder. El niño y la lista han sido abrir unas heridas dolorosas. Lo que sigue es un cuento que brinca del presente hacia el pasado, explorado como vino a llegar este niño en la ciudad y como fue que el esposo de Norma fue desaparecido.
Me gustó el estilo de narración que empleó Alarcón. La voz tiene el mismo tono de periodista que se encuentra en su otra novela. Pero en partes me aburrí un poco leyendo todas las historias del pueblo en la selva de donde vino el niño y hasta algunas de las cosas que hizo Rey (el marido). Quise en vez mas sobre Norma en el presente. Parte de esto puede ser que tengo mas dificultad leyendo en español que en ingles y me frustro cuando no puedo seguir lo que esta pasando con facilidad. De toda manera, fue un buen leyendo y estoy entusiasmado para leer su nuevo libro de relatos, The King Is Always Above the People. (Ese leeré en ingles.)
Si te gustó esto, sígueme en Goodreads para mas reseñas!
El cuento principalmente se trata de Norma, una deejay trabajando en la ultima emisora que queda en un país suramericano sin nombre. Norma perdió su marido hace diez años al final de la guerra civil que quebró mucho de la sociedad civil en el país. (La nueva dictadura hasta reemplazó los nombres de las ciudades con números.) De pronto aparece un niño de la selva que tiene una lista de desaparecidos para Norma leer en su programa de radio. Hay algo sospechoso de la lista y quizás peligroso — la dictadura prohibe que el pueblo hable abiertamente de la guerra civil. Pero existe una area gris para algunos que fueron desaparecidos durante igual y la emisora ve una oportunidad para lograr altas puntuaciones. Norma, por su parte, no está segura como preceder. El niño y la lista han sido abrir unas heridas dolorosas. Lo que sigue es un cuento que brinca del presente hacia el pasado, explorado como vino a llegar este niño en la ciudad y como fue que el esposo de Norma fue desaparecido.
Me gustó el estilo de narración que empleó Alarcón. La voz tiene el mismo tono de periodista que se encuentra en su otra novela. Pero en partes me aburrí un poco leyendo todas las historias del pueblo en la selva de donde vino el niño y hasta algunas de las cosas que hizo Rey (el marido). Quise en vez mas sobre Norma en el presente. Parte de esto puede ser que tengo mas dificultad leyendo en español que en ingles y me frustro cuando no puedo seguir lo que esta pasando con facilidad. De toda manera, fue un buen leyendo y estoy entusiasmado para leer su nuevo libro de relatos, The King Is Always Above the People. (Ese leeré en ingles.)
Si te gustó esto, sígueme en Goodreads para mas reseñas!
April 2, 2017
What a brilliant book!
From the first pages where the famous radio host Norma meets the eleven-year old boy Victor, sent from the village of 1797 with a list of names of "The Disappeared" Alarcón creates a real page-turning mystery. Set in an unnamed Latin America country after a 10-year war raged on between a terrorist group (La IL) and the government, the characters are reveal how the war has affected them. The government was so affected by the war that they changed the names to numbers for all the towns, trying to remove the memories of their old names. Daniel Alarcón does not play political sides and presents both sides of the people affected by war. He truly captures the spirit and the alienation. It is gritty, sad and very powerful.
Norma is interested in the boy because he comes from the same area that her husband did, who has been missing for many years. Alarcón reveals just enough to shed light to make you start filling in the missing parts right till the end. No spoiler here because you just have to read it to find out.
I had read a recent review of his most recent book ("At Night We Walk in Circles") and decided that "Radio Lost City" book seemed like a good place to start. I was right. He is a very good writer. He has won numerous prizes including "One of 39 under 39 Latino American Novelists" (Hay Festival, Bogota, Colombia, 2007) and One of 21 Young American Novelists Granta, UK, 2007.
Oddly, I thought because he came from Lima, Daniel Alarcón was a Spanish writer but it turns out he was raised and lives in San Francisco. The book is available in English but I read in Spanish.
From the first pages where the famous radio host Norma meets the eleven-year old boy Victor, sent from the village of 1797 with a list of names of "The Disappeared" Alarcón creates a real page-turning mystery. Set in an unnamed Latin America country after a 10-year war raged on between a terrorist group (La IL) and the government, the characters are reveal how the war has affected them. The government was so affected by the war that they changed the names to numbers for all the towns, trying to remove the memories of their old names. Daniel Alarcón does not play political sides and presents both sides of the people affected by war. He truly captures the spirit and the alienation. It is gritty, sad and very powerful.
Norma is interested in the boy because he comes from the same area that her husband did, who has been missing for many years. Alarcón reveals just enough to shed light to make you start filling in the missing parts right till the end. No spoiler here because you just have to read it to find out.
I had read a recent review of his most recent book ("At Night We Walk in Circles") and decided that "Radio Lost City" book seemed like a good place to start. I was right. He is a very good writer. He has won numerous prizes including "One of 39 under 39 Latino American Novelists" (Hay Festival, Bogota, Colombia, 2007) and One of 21 Young American Novelists Granta, UK, 2007.
Oddly, I thought because he came from Lima, Daniel Alarcón was a Spanish writer but it turns out he was raised and lives in San Francisco. The book is available in English but I read in Spanish.
August 15, 2012
Norma is a popular radio announcer renowned for a program called Lost City Radio, which tries to match up the many, many missing people of the country with those still living and within listening range. One of the places that listens to her show is a town by the name of 1797, where Norma's own husband disappeared, and which determines to send a emissary to Norma with the names of all their missing - a list which includes her husband's name. The emissary is a young boy, who's very recently lost his mother and never knew his father. Also part of the cast of characters here is the boy's teacher, the manager of the radio station, and several other voices, from whose point of view the plot unfolds. It was interesting to have each chapter told from a different view point, but I had a bit of trouble with the fact that two of them are either in hiding or dead, but Alarcon would have had trouble telling their stories as effectively without their voices.
I thoroughly enjoyed this book, but was a bit disappointed that it left the fate of the boy so much in the air. I'm not a fan of happy little endings to complex stories, but this book made me want to know at least enough (on some level) he would survive.
I thoroughly enjoyed this book, but was a bit disappointed that it left the fate of the boy so much in the air. I'm not a fan of happy little endings to complex stories, but this book made me want to know at least enough (on some level) he would survive.
May 25, 2014
One of the best things I've read in years. A story not of missing people, but of missing pieces in people's lives. How does a country continue when there has been so much death and destruction that has devastated their lives? Lost City Radio is testament of what people will do to imagine something to fill those holes that have been created. It's a tragic work of art, not because of the disappeared, but because of the world where imagination fails us. The living are the missing, like a character says.
There has been a lot of war time literature on the disappeared that has come out of Latin America that has touched on this topic already, Luisa Valenzuela and Ricardo Piglia come quickly to mind, but this is the first one that I found written in English, which works really well in helping to re-think and re-conceptualize these traumas in new voices and platforms. Lost City Radio is just a remarkable novel that deserves to be re-read over and over again.
There has been a lot of war time literature on the disappeared that has come out of Latin America that has touched on this topic already, Luisa Valenzuela and Ricardo Piglia come quickly to mind, but this is the first one that I found written in English, which works really well in helping to re-think and re-conceptualize these traumas in new voices and platforms. Lost City Radio is just a remarkable novel that deserves to be re-read over and over again.
August 19, 2007
I remember reading this in early bound galley form so there may have been changes between my edition and the final, published version. I initially soght out Alarcón's work because I learned that he was friends with friends from school who now lived in San Francisco. His short stories -- from the NYer, Tin House, etc. -- are taught and vivid (cf. WAR BY CANDLELIGHT). This first full length novel is about Norma, who hosts a radio program hoping to reunite those uprooted and disappeared in an unnamed Latin American country. It's a powerful, worth-reading debut, though it has a certain inevitability of plot that is either compelling in a tragic way or predictable in a world-lit kind of way. I liked it immensely and read it in two feverish, rainy days over Christmas break. Alarcon is a real talent (Full disclosure: I may be partial to him because he's an A's fan...)
September 10, 2011
An author I'll definitely be keeping up with. In this novel Alarcon deftly moves between time periods, often with no breaks besides a new paragraph. The chronology of the war could be a bit confusing but you always knew where you were and in the end the chronology isn't as important as what actually happened. I felt the book lost energy towards the end and I wasn't so keen on how the plot turned. The 'revelation' for some reason felt forced to me. I felt it let air out of the balloon and I'm not sure exactly why. Alarcon is a talented writer and the depiction of the nameless country and the war allows for wide interpretation. There is no element of the 'fantastic', everything is grounded in what could be reality, but not being bound by historical accuracy allows Alarcon to create and destroy in accordance with his own creative vision.
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