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Childish Literature
How do we write about the singular experience of parenthood? Written in a ‘state of attachment’, or ‘under the influence’ of fatherhood, Childish Literature is an eclectic guide for novice parents, showing how the birth and growth of a child changes not only the present and the future, but also reshapes our perceptions of the past. Shifting from moving dispatches from his son’s first year of existence, to a treatise on ‘football sadness’, to a psychedelic narrative where a man tries, mid-magic mushroom trip, to re-learn the subtle art of crawling, this latest work from Alejandro Zambra shows how children shield adults from despondency, self-absorption and the tyrannies of chronological time. At once a chronicle of fatherhood, a letter to a child and a work of fiction, Childish Literature is the latest, virtuosic addition to the oeuvre of one of the most exciting Latin American writers in recent decades.
256 pages, Paperback
First published May 10, 2023
393 people are currently reading
10173 people want to read
About the author
Alejandro Zambra
53 books4,101 followersAlejandro Zambra is a Chilean writer. He is the author of Bonsai, The Private Lives of Trees, Ways of Going Home, My Documents, Multiple Choice, Not to Read, Chilean Poet and Childish Literature. His stories have appeared in The New Yorker, The Paris Review, Granta, Harper's, Zoetrope, and McSweeney’s, among other places.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 1,218 reviews
May 16, 2023
No es justo, sinceramente, que Zambra no sea mi padre.
May 23, 2023
Si este señor escribiera un manual de instrucciones para lavavajillas me lo leería también.
July 7, 2023
Haceme un pibe, Zambra
Ya declaré por aquí me devoción total por Zambra. No hubiera leído este libro sobre reflexiones en torno a la paterndad si no hubiese sido escrito por él.
Si en Poeta Chileno Zambra trata el tema de la padrastidad, esa palabra que la RAE todavía no acepta, acá da, digamos, el salto biológico y habla sobre la paternidad, el nacimiento de su primer hijo.
Ya pasó la moda de la autoficción y la bendita literatura del yo dio un nuevo giro que resultó en este tipo de libros que tratan un tema en los que cabe de todo, ensayo, poesía, biografía y, por supuesto, ficción. Jazmina Barrera, esposa de Zambra, madre del hijo en cuestión, lo hizo con maestría en Cuaderno de Faros. Acá Zambra junta unos textos relacionados al nacimiento y crianza de su hijo.
El libro está divido en dos partes, el primero es como un pastiche, o una rapsodia, si quieren un término más benévolo, en la segunda son cuentos/ensayos y son todos geniales. "Rascacielos" y el de la tristeza en el fútbol. Si tengo que hacerle una ligerísma crítica es que el editor pegó dos cuentos bastante parecidos sobre la relación con su padre. Los dos son muy buenos, pero yo, de haber sido su editor, hubiese dejado uno afuera.
¿Por qué si me pareció tan bueno el libro le pongo cuatro estrellas en vez de cinco? La respuesta más cercana a la realidad es muy simple: porque soy un triste reseñador de goodreads que sueña con tener un 10 por ciento del talento de Zambra y mi único súperpoder es ponerle estrellitas a los libros que leo, pero la razón que diría públicamente es que este libro me parece que está un escaloncito por debajo de obras maestras del mismo autor como "Facsímil", "Formas de volver a casa" y "Poeta chileno".
==
Si te gustan mis reseñas tal vez también te guste mi newsletter sobre libros que se llama "No se puede leer todo". Se pueden suscribir gratis, poniendo su mail en este link: eepurl.com/hbwz7v La encuentran en Twitter como @Nosepuedeleert1, en Instagram como @Nosepuedeleertodo y en Facebook.
Gracias, te espero
Sant
Ya declaré por aquí me devoción total por Zambra. No hubiera leído este libro sobre reflexiones en torno a la paterndad si no hubiese sido escrito por él.
Si en Poeta Chileno Zambra trata el tema de la padrastidad, esa palabra que la RAE todavía no acepta, acá da, digamos, el salto biológico y habla sobre la paternidad, el nacimiento de su primer hijo.
Ya pasó la moda de la autoficción y la bendita literatura del yo dio un nuevo giro que resultó en este tipo de libros que tratan un tema en los que cabe de todo, ensayo, poesía, biografía y, por supuesto, ficción. Jazmina Barrera, esposa de Zambra, madre del hijo en cuestión, lo hizo con maestría en Cuaderno de Faros. Acá Zambra junta unos textos relacionados al nacimiento y crianza de su hijo.
El libro está divido en dos partes, el primero es como un pastiche, o una rapsodia, si quieren un término más benévolo, en la segunda son cuentos/ensayos y son todos geniales. "Rascacielos" y el de la tristeza en el fútbol. Si tengo que hacerle una ligerísma crítica es que el editor pegó dos cuentos bastante parecidos sobre la relación con su padre. Los dos son muy buenos, pero yo, de haber sido su editor, hubiese dejado uno afuera.
¿Por qué si me pareció tan bueno el libro le pongo cuatro estrellas en vez de cinco? La respuesta más cercana a la realidad es muy simple: porque soy un triste reseñador de goodreads que sueña con tener un 10 por ciento del talento de Zambra y mi único súperpoder es ponerle estrellitas a los libros que leo, pero la razón que diría públicamente es que este libro me parece que está un escaloncito por debajo de obras maestras del mismo autor como "Facsímil", "Formas de volver a casa" y "Poeta chileno".
==
Si te gustan mis reseñas tal vez también te guste mi newsletter sobre libros que se llama "No se puede leer todo". Se pueden suscribir gratis, poniendo su mail en este link: eepurl.com/hbwz7v La encuentran en Twitter como @Nosepuedeleert1, en Instagram como @Nosepuedeleertodo y en Facebook.
Gracias, te espero
Sant
Read
September 21, 2023Imaginaos cómo de bueno es este libro para que me haya maravillado aún teniendo un capítulo sobre fútbol y otro sobre la pesca con mosca. Así de bueno es.
Poca sorpresa, también os digo. Un autor capaz de escribir una obra maestra como «Poeta chileno» es difícil que pueda decepcionar.
Aquí vuelve a reflexionar sobre algunos de los elementos protagonistas de su obra: la masculinidad, la paternidad, las relaciones familiares... En esta ocasión lo hace a través de una historia muy propia y personal en el que el narrador es, a la vez, autor, padre e hijo. Y con esos hilos (los paternales, los filiales, los literarios) va tejiendo una maraña de recuerdos presentada en forma de relatos (independientes, pero no tanto) en los que conocemos más a un hombre pausado, reflexivo, lleno de virtudes y deseoso de abrazar sus defectos sin ninguna vergüenza.
Este libro me ha parecido una belleza. Se lo regalaría a cada varón de mi entorno con pensamientos de tener hijos... pero también a muchos de los que tengan padre.
Alejandro Zambra es un genio. Su literatura es un regalo que te reconcilia con el mundo, con nuestra época e, incluso, con la hombría. Y eso sí que tiene mérito.
Poca sorpresa, también os digo. Un autor capaz de escribir una obra maestra como «Poeta chileno» es difícil que pueda decepcionar.
Aquí vuelve a reflexionar sobre algunos de los elementos protagonistas de su obra: la masculinidad, la paternidad, las relaciones familiares... En esta ocasión lo hace a través de una historia muy propia y personal en el que el narrador es, a la vez, autor, padre e hijo. Y con esos hilos (los paternales, los filiales, los literarios) va tejiendo una maraña de recuerdos presentada en forma de relatos (independientes, pero no tanto) en los que conocemos más a un hombre pausado, reflexivo, lleno de virtudes y deseoso de abrazar sus defectos sin ninguna vergüenza.
Este libro me ha parecido una belleza. Se lo regalaría a cada varón de mi entorno con pensamientos de tener hijos... pero también a muchos de los que tengan padre.
Alejandro Zambra es un genio. Su literatura es un regalo que te reconcilia con el mundo, con nuestra época e, incluso, con la hombría. Y eso sí que tiene mérito.
May 11, 2023
Lo terminé llorando.
July 25, 2023
quiero tener un hijo
June 14, 2023
Una carta de amor a tu papá cuando tú te conviertes en papá. A modo de autobiografía, Alejandro recorre su niñez sin comparar la de su hijo. Cómo el amor a tu papá puede ir mutando conforme vas creciendo, cómo lo ven los demás, cómo lo viviste tú donde esos rencores que tenías cuando tienes un hijo los ves de otra manera y tereconcilias con lo que tu papá pudo ser para ti, no lo que querías que fuera.
Un libro muy precioso.
Un libro muy precioso.
October 27, 2023
MAYDAY, MAYDAY! UNA LECTORA ACABA DE SALIR DE SU ZONA DE CONFORT😱!
Por santa Cachucha, que alguien la detengaaaa😱😱!
Nah, olvídalo, ya es demasiado tarde...🤭
🌸Y es que, cuando una lectora sale de su zona de confort y sonríe al leer la primera frase del libro, ya no hay vuelta atrás. Es ese instante mágico; esa puerta que se abre frente a ella llena de palabras por descubrir; ese atisbo de aventura, de ir sin frenos, de qué pasará a la siguiente hoja...
🌸Porque, no nos olvidemos de que cuando nos adentramos por primera vez en esas páginas llenas de magia, en esos párrafos misteriosos, en esas construcciones de frases aún por degustar como si del mejor vino se tratara, aún nos mantenemos en la cuerda floja de lo desconocido, de la aventura por descubrir.
🌸Pues bien, en esas estaba yo cuando leí el primer párrafo de un libro que no tenía en mi radar de novedades...
¿Eres madre? ¿Eres padre? ¿Eres hijo/hija?
🌸El mundo es un lugar muy curioso...
Las personas somos seres curiosos, nos movemos por grupos, por ideas, buscando siempre la aprobación de los demás. Pero lo que más ansiamos es la aprobación de nuestros padres. ¿Qué pasa cuando no la tenemos? ¿O qué pasa cuando no la has tenido y la sociedad no te ha preparado para ser padre?
🌸Alejandro Zambra nos relata con ironía y con sutiles y divertidos momentos lo que fue para él ser padre...
Por santa Cachucha, que alguien la detengaaaa😱😱!
Nah, olvídalo, ya es demasiado tarde...🤭
🌸Y es que, cuando una lectora sale de su zona de confort y sonríe al leer la primera frase del libro, ya no hay vuelta atrás. Es ese instante mágico; esa puerta que se abre frente a ella llena de palabras por descubrir; ese atisbo de aventura, de ir sin frenos, de qué pasará a la siguiente hoja...
🌸Porque, no nos olvidemos de que cuando nos adentramos por primera vez en esas páginas llenas de magia, en esos párrafos misteriosos, en esas construcciones de frases aún por degustar como si del mejor vino se tratara, aún nos mantenemos en la cuerda floja de lo desconocido, de la aventura por descubrir.
🌸Pues bien, en esas estaba yo cuando leí el primer párrafo de un libro que no tenía en mi radar de novedades...
¿Eres madre? ¿Eres padre? ¿Eres hijo/hija?
🌸El mundo es un lugar muy curioso...
Las personas somos seres curiosos, nos movemos por grupos, por ideas, buscando siempre la aprobación de los demás. Pero lo que más ansiamos es la aprobación de nuestros padres. ¿Qué pasa cuando no la tenemos? ¿O qué pasa cuando no la has tenido y la sociedad no te ha preparado para ser padre?
🌸Alejandro Zambra nos relata con ironía y con sutiles y divertidos momentos lo que fue para él ser padre...
September 29, 2025
Annelikle ya da anne olmak istememekle ilgili bir sürü kitabı hızlıca sıralayabilirim sanırım. Ama babalık söz konusu olunca aklıma gelen pek kitap yok(tu) ama artık var :)
Hayatta en sevdiğim yazarlardan biri olan Alejandro Zambra'nın oğluna, babasına, baba-oğul olmaya dair yazdığı metinlerden oluşan Çocukluk Edebiyatı babalığı konu alan en içten, en hoş kitaplardan biri. Bonzai romanından itibaren takip ettiğim ve bayıla bayıla okuduğum Zambra'nın büyüme, olgunlaşma, yetişkinlik ve baba olma sürecine tanıklık etmişim gibi hissediyorum. Kendine özgü dürüst ve samimi anlatı yeteneği bu kısa metinlerde de kendisini gösteriyor. Çok keyifle ve yer yer duygulanarak okudum. Aynı çağda yaşadığımız için şanslı olduğumuz, yazdığı her şeyi heyecanla beklediğimiz bu harika yazarın harika bir baba olduğuna da ben ikna oldum şahsen :)
Hayatta en sevdiğim yazarlardan biri olan Alejandro Zambra'nın oğluna, babasına, baba-oğul olmaya dair yazdığı metinlerden oluşan Çocukluk Edebiyatı babalığı konu alan en içten, en hoş kitaplardan biri. Bonzai romanından itibaren takip ettiğim ve bayıla bayıla okuduğum Zambra'nın büyüme, olgunlaşma, yetişkinlik ve baba olma sürecine tanıklık etmişim gibi hissediyorum. Kendine özgü dürüst ve samimi anlatı yeteneği bu kısa metinlerde de kendisini gösteriyor. Çok keyifle ve yer yer duygulanarak okudum. Aynı çağda yaşadığımız için şanslı olduğumuz, yazdığı her şeyi heyecanla beklediğimiz bu harika yazarın harika bir baba olduğuna da ben ikna oldum şahsen :)
March 24, 2025
# Yet Another Year of Zambra
To read is to receive secrets, but also to tell secrets to oneself. I’ve thought before about the solitude of reading. So noisy and yet so different from noise. So silent and so different from silence.
É verdade que Alejandro Zambra é o meu chouchou (chuchuzinho para as amigas), mas esta é a primeira vez que dou 5* plenas a um dos seus livros. Embora a minha tendência deveras tendenciosa seja para livros centrados nas mães, “Childish Literature” é extremamente satisfatório em termos de relações entre progenitores e filhos, que constitui o cerne desta compilação formada por onze ensaios, um poema, um conto e uma mensagem final ao filho.
Como sucede frequentemente, quando Zambra chegou à adolescência, a convivência com o pai tornou-se tensa e conflituosa…
A Colo-Colo fan, just like my dad. It would have been great if I had liked the rival team, or any other team at all. Now I can’t think of a more efficient way to kill the father – a much more effective method than my predictable grunge rebellion or the lacerating political arguments that came later.
…mas o tempo parece tê-los tornado mais brandos e, com o escritor a viver no México, onde a pandemia se meteu de permeio e o impediu de visitar o Chile, parece agora imperar a tolerância e até uma certa bonomia.
‘I’m going to write your biography too, just you wait,’ he says. ‘I’ll tell the whole truth then.’ ‘And what will you call that book?’ ‘Ways of Losing a Son.’
Para essa reaproximação terá contribuído também o nascimento do seu primeiro filho, Silvestre, a quem dedica este livro.
Literary tradition abounds with letters to my father, but letters to my son are pretty scarce. The reasons are predictable – sexism, selfishness, shame, adultcentrism, negligence, self-censorship – but maybe it would be worth adding some purely literary reasons, because those of us who have tried know that writing about your own children is quite an artistic challenge. Certainly, it’s easier to omit kids or relegate them to the sidelines, or to see them as obstacles to writing and employ them as excuses; now it turns out it’s all their fault we haven’t been able to concentrate on our arduous, imposing novel.
O filho é uma figura omnipresente em todas as partes autobiográficas referentes ao presente, especialmente no primeiro ensaio formado por fragmentos numerados de 0 a 365, correspondendo a um determinado número de dias de vida do pequeno Silvestre, todos eles a transbordar do afecto de um pai extremoso.
While women passed on to their daughters the asphyxiating imperative of maternity, we grew up pampered and ineffectual and even humming along to ‘Billie Jean’. Our fathers tried, in their own ways, to teach us to be men, but they never taught us to be fathers. And their fathers didn’t teach them either. And so on.
O título “Childish Literature” não se refere apenas aos primeiros anos da vida do filho, que inclui inevitavelmente o seu contacto inicial com os livros infantis…
Your library is that other, lost library of mine, shrunk to miniature and of course perfected, because it remains untouched by the tsundoku that spreads like a virus over the house’s other shelves, so full of books-to-read that sometimes looking at them is like checking the stack of bills to be paid.
…nem sequer à incursão do autor na sua própria infância, que é sempre aliciante, mas aponta também para uma conversa com a sua editora italiana, que tentou convencê-lo a escrever livros para crianças:
The editor felt she had to amp up her argument, which was by no means flattering: Children’s literature is a better fit for your style. As I see it, your novels are childish. Your books are picture books but they don’t have illustrations, and we should fix that. I don’t like your novels. Your children’s books would be much, much better. Why write for adults when you should be writing for children?
Se razões faltassem para apreciar um livro tão estimulante, terno e divertido, há sempre os momentos em que Zambra e eu estamos em sintonia:
‘You can’t be reading twenty or thirty books all at the same time, son,’ he told me. I was going to reply that I could very easily be reading twenty or thirty books all at the same time, and that some of those books, like the poetry ones, I would never truly finish, but instead I pretended I was still asleep.
To read is to receive secrets, but also to tell secrets to oneself. I’ve thought before about the solitude of reading. So noisy and yet so different from noise. So silent and so different from silence.
É verdade que Alejandro Zambra é o meu chouchou (chuchuzinho para as amigas), mas esta é a primeira vez que dou 5* plenas a um dos seus livros. Embora a minha tendência deveras tendenciosa seja para livros centrados nas mães, “Childish Literature” é extremamente satisfatório em termos de relações entre progenitores e filhos, que constitui o cerne desta compilação formada por onze ensaios, um poema, um conto e uma mensagem final ao filho.
Como sucede frequentemente, quando Zambra chegou à adolescência, a convivência com o pai tornou-se tensa e conflituosa…
A Colo-Colo fan, just like my dad. It would have been great if I had liked the rival team, or any other team at all. Now I can’t think of a more efficient way to kill the father – a much more effective method than my predictable grunge rebellion or the lacerating political arguments that came later.
…mas o tempo parece tê-los tornado mais brandos e, com o escritor a viver no México, onde a pandemia se meteu de permeio e o impediu de visitar o Chile, parece agora imperar a tolerância e até uma certa bonomia.
‘I’m going to write your biography too, just you wait,’ he says. ‘I’ll tell the whole truth then.’ ‘And what will you call that book?’ ‘Ways of Losing a Son.’
Para essa reaproximação terá contribuído também o nascimento do seu primeiro filho, Silvestre, a quem dedica este livro.
Literary tradition abounds with letters to my father, but letters to my son are pretty scarce. The reasons are predictable – sexism, selfishness, shame, adultcentrism, negligence, self-censorship – but maybe it would be worth adding some purely literary reasons, because those of us who have tried know that writing about your own children is quite an artistic challenge. Certainly, it’s easier to omit kids or relegate them to the sidelines, or to see them as obstacles to writing and employ them as excuses; now it turns out it’s all their fault we haven’t been able to concentrate on our arduous, imposing novel.
O filho é uma figura omnipresente em todas as partes autobiográficas referentes ao presente, especialmente no primeiro ensaio formado por fragmentos numerados de 0 a 365, correspondendo a um determinado número de dias de vida do pequeno Silvestre, todos eles a transbordar do afecto de um pai extremoso.
While women passed on to their daughters the asphyxiating imperative of maternity, we grew up pampered and ineffectual and even humming along to ‘Billie Jean’. Our fathers tried, in their own ways, to teach us to be men, but they never taught us to be fathers. And their fathers didn’t teach them either. And so on.
O título “Childish Literature” não se refere apenas aos primeiros anos da vida do filho, que inclui inevitavelmente o seu contacto inicial com os livros infantis…
Your library is that other, lost library of mine, shrunk to miniature and of course perfected, because it remains untouched by the tsundoku that spreads like a virus over the house’s other shelves, so full of books-to-read that sometimes looking at them is like checking the stack of bills to be paid.
…nem sequer à incursão do autor na sua própria infância, que é sempre aliciante, mas aponta também para uma conversa com a sua editora italiana, que tentou convencê-lo a escrever livros para crianças:
The editor felt she had to amp up her argument, which was by no means flattering: Children’s literature is a better fit for your style. As I see it, your novels are childish. Your books are picture books but they don’t have illustrations, and we should fix that. I don’t like your novels. Your children’s books would be much, much better. Why write for adults when you should be writing for children?
Se razões faltassem para apreciar um livro tão estimulante, terno e divertido, há sempre os momentos em que Zambra e eu estamos em sintonia:
‘You can’t be reading twenty or thirty books all at the same time, son,’ he told me. I was going to reply that I could very easily be reading twenty or thirty books all at the same time, and that some of those books, like the poetry ones, I would never truly finish, but instead I pretended I was still asleep.
May 18, 2023
La paternidad y la familia siempre han sido temáticas comunes en la obra de Zambra, pero desde el nacimiento de Silvestre el vínculo y la relación que está viviendo y construyendo hacia abajo con su hijo y no necesariamente hacia arriba con su padre, se ha tomado su agenda. Así, si a finales del año pasado fue el hermoso libro para niños “Mi opinión sobre las ardillas” la obra donde Zambra aborde el paso de juzgar a los padres (a “quienes nunca aprendimos a mirar bien”) a ser juzgado (o temer ser juzgado) por los hijos, este año será “Literatura Infantil” (publicado recientemente por Anagrama) quien nos lleve en este viaje. En ambos, Zambra muestra el eterno aprendizaje de algo a lo que no fuimos preparados: criar. Siguiendo el estilo ya tan propio de Zambra, “Lectura infantil” se siente real, íntimo, hogareño. Y el no abandonar los chilenismos aporta mucho en ello. Lo recomiendo mucho para aquellas personas que se están embarcando en el camino de la paternidad, quienes podrán encontrar en sus páginas las palabras que quizás no han sido capaces de expresar. PD: “Rascacielos” me pareció una obra maestra.
Tengo dos líneas favoritas. Sobre la necesidad de escribir y la necesidad de escribir en especial este libro.
“No fui a Nueva York, porque no quise cortarme el pelo. Y mi padre no leyó mi “Carta al padre”.
- Voy a leerla cuando tenga ganas de llorar -me dijo-. Pero nunca tengo ganas de llorar.
No supe qué responder. Nunca sabía qué responder. Por eso escribía, por escribo. Lo que escribo son las respuestas que no se me ocurrieron a tiempo. Los bosquejos de esas respuestas, en realidad”.
“Yo preferiría contarte cada una de estas historias, mejoradas y aumentadas, algún día de tu juventud que estuvieras lo suficientemente aburrido como para sacarme a pasear en esa esplendida silla de ruedas que me prometiste. Me gusta pensar que este libro es nada más que un guión para esos lentísimos paseos del futuro”.
Tengo dos líneas favoritas. Sobre la necesidad de escribir y la necesidad de escribir en especial este libro.
“No fui a Nueva York, porque no quise cortarme el pelo. Y mi padre no leyó mi “Carta al padre”.
- Voy a leerla cuando tenga ganas de llorar -me dijo-. Pero nunca tengo ganas de llorar.
No supe qué responder. Nunca sabía qué responder. Por eso escribía, por escribo. Lo que escribo son las respuestas que no se me ocurrieron a tiempo. Los bosquejos de esas respuestas, en realidad”.
“Yo preferiría contarte cada una de estas historias, mejoradas y aumentadas, algún día de tu juventud que estuvieras lo suficientemente aburrido como para sacarme a pasear en esa esplendida silla de ruedas que me prometiste. Me gusta pensar que este libro es nada más que un guión para esos lentísimos paseos del futuro”.
October 6, 2024
‘I don't want to caricature—not too much, anyway; sometimes it's inevitable and even advisable to caricature, since it allows us to forgive those other people we once were. Though in reality the ones we should forgive are the insensitive grown-ups we are today, capable of minimising something that was and we know this, but pretend not to be enormous and serious and wonderful. We talk about the past and laugh at ourselves as if our future selves were never going to laugh at who we are now.’
Read this a few months back (at least for the first time), but revisiting again (because it's really that good (so also rounding it off to a 5), and I think about it a lot, esp. when the football is on and/or when I think of 'kids'/see my friends' ones), and finally typing up some 'notes' now. There's something in here for everyone, I reckon. Regardless, makes me laugh to read some of the reviews (in Spanish) about how without 'football', this would make a more 'perfect' book. For me, it's the 'football' (while not the core of the book, per say) that makes everything in here a little more lovely, because it's what lends its ever so endearing 'humour' to the writing.
'I interrupt this essay to come clean about a shameful episode, one that invalidates me as a fan and perhaps also as a person: for almost two years, I pretended not to like—My only excuse, valid but inadequate, is youth.'
‘'Yeah, but that was like five years ago. Everything is different now, I tell her ruefully. I'm writing these final lines on my phone while my son is at football class. The class was his mum's idea - she says she doesn't want him to go through life in constant fear of stray football balls—.’
‘Aside from one uncle, a football hipster who likes to go around the city in his Barcelona kit, everyone in my wife's family, including her, claim to be fans of the Pumas from UNAM, the university they all went to. But I think my son has caught on that they are fake fans. Football isn't important or even interesting to them. As for my wife, she had a rough morning on the playground as a kid when she was hit in the face by three consecutive balls. Since then, she has associated football solely with the possibility of getting hit, and as such she stays cautiously on the sidelines of our pickup games.’
Even though I wasn't allowed to play football as a kid (though not spared from 'stray balls' to the face experiences), I think I've always loved it or at least the idea of it (whether or not I talk about). Because our age difference was pretty huge, so even as a barely talking/walking stably toddler, I used to wait for my older brother by the pitch for him to finish playing football in the weekends (and I remember this memory very clearly for some reason, and they always joked about how one of his mates looked like Park Ji Sung, but fought like Roy Keane off the grass). The same brother and I would watch and talk about football still (and to convince me to like any United players, he would say 'but that one plays aggressively from box to box like Roy Keane!'); unfortunately he's a life-long United fan. And/but mum's a half-arsed Arsenal fan turned madly committed Tottenham fan, so make of that what you will. She doesn't even like Spurs in an ironic way, she takes it all pretty seriously. The other (football-hating) brother had to begrudgingly get her one of the shirts when she was last at the hospital. And/but that cheered her up like fucking magic. Comes out of surgery groggy with anaesthesia and one of the first things she said was, 'where's my Cuti shirt'. I was like, 'no more Argentinean players (a half-joke because of my own personal history with Argentinean lads (to clarify, very nice and kind, I just like to joke about how they are terrible)), you will have to choose someone else for the next shirt(s)'. And she was like 'Don't forget a Tottenham flask and the Sonny bear as well.' Realistically, she might have to settle for a Spurs-shop bear.
‘My relationship with football is not literary, but my connection to literature does have, in a way, a footballistic origin. My greatest influences as a writer were not Marcel Proust's colossal novel or the enduring poems of César Vallejo or Emily Dickinson or Enrique Lihn, but rather the radio transmissions of Vladimiro Mimica, the commentator for Radio Minería. None of my reading was ever as influential as the elegant spoken prose of the famous 'goal-singer'. I even used to record the games and lie in bed to listen, to enjoy them in a purely musical sense. Thanks to his cheerful mediation, even the most tedious or anodyne games seemed like epic battles.’
‘Maybe during that time I also had an anti-football impulse that was linked to my social climbing impulse and my desire to belong to that community of sceptical, critical, bullshitting intellectuals who held football in such contempt. It was similar to my attitude towards music throughout my adolescence, in a time that wasn't as propitious for the eclecticism that's so prized now: I had started out liking folk music and then moved on to thrash metal, then New Wave, punk, and then back to folk, with all the ensuing changes in dress, friends, and even habits.’
Like Zambra, I am not always 'open' with my feelings about 'football'. It's not just football but anything I don't want to talk about; I don't love talking about anything if I feel the other person doesn't 'love' or feel it with a similar intensity. An 'I don't know' always felt sufficient or at least convenient. But that aside, it reminds me of the Olympics earlier this year when I was asked if I watched anything. And I was like 'the highlights', but what I meant to say was that I only had two priorities when it came to that - one was Zidane (always), and the second was watching Thierry Henry with the French team. But having said this, when it comes to my close(r) circles, I would openly pour out my thoughts about football whether or not they like it (and when I find that they've gotten used to me doing that with 'men's football', I sometimes even try it with 'women's football').
‘I learned my lesson, or maybe my stupidity just changed shape over the years. Later I was lucky enough that football stopped being, for me, a purely masculine endeavour. I didn't deserve it, but fate rewarded me with two female friends who were football fans and Colo- Colo addicts, thanks to whom I realized that the passion for football is not at all exclusive to men. I went back to the stadium with them, first in the extraordinary years of the Colo-Colo four-time league championships under Claudio Borghi, and later to see the illustrious national team of Bielsa and the golden generation of Arturo Vidal, Alexis Sánchez, Claudio Bravo, Mauricio Isla et al. Later I started to spend more time away from Chile, and although football never lost importance for me, it did become an almost purely televised and solitary experience. I even adopted the habit of watching matches while riding a stationary bike, as though playing a kind of analogue Wii. Sometimes I still do it: if Pibe Solari is running down the wing. I pedal faster, and if Colorado Gil or Vicente Pizarro are trying to run out the clock, I slow down.’
One of the reasons why I felt compelled to read Zambra's essays again was because of a recent event(s). I almost bumped into a friend at the airport but somehow the timing didn't allow us to meet, but he texted me directly after, and call it coincidence or whatever (but delusion-ally or rather over-emotionally, (not to be weird about it, but 'grief', etc.) I keep blaming all almost unexplainable events of recent on a very dear human being and friend who recently passed. It's almost like he's 'haunting' me (but in the best ways) because he did love 'annoying' me). My point is, the friend who I almost bumped into told me that his wife is a few weeks pregnant, and I asked if it's too soon to think about 'names'. And he was fully offended (in an endearingly childish way), and was like 'What does that even mean? Don't you remember the ones I told you when we were kids? It has to be that, you already know that.'
‘No one taught you anything about music there was no need. Music was just there, from before you were born; no one had to explain what it was, what it is, how it works. No one has explained literature to you either, and hopefully no one ever will. Silent reading is a sort of conquest; those of us who read in silence and solitude learn, precisely, how to be alone, or maybe it's more like we capture a less aggressive solitude, a solitude emptied of anxiety; we feel inhabited, multiplied, accompanied, as we read in our sonorous silent solitude. But you will learn all this for yourself in a few years, I know. You will decide for yourself whether you're still interested in the form of knowledge that literature enables, so strange, so specific, so hard to describe.’
‘I think of animism, a belief system I never completely abandoned, but which now, in my son's company, strikes me as not only fun but necessary. I really like that scene in Chungking Express, the film by Wong Kar Wai, when a character talks to a giant stuffed Garfield: I like it because it's comic and serious at the same time; because it's kitsch, like life, and because it's tragic, like life.’
‘Of all available TV programmes, football is the only one not governed by the imperatives of information or entertainment.’
‘She advises me to lie and say I've become a fan of women's football. I tell her it wouldn't be a lie, because in fact I followed the entire campaign of Chile's women's team in the 2019 World Cup in France. 'Name five players.' Christiane Endler, Carla Guerrero, Javiera Toro, Francisca Lara, María José Rojas. That's five. Yessenia López, six. Rosario Balmaceda, seven. She thinks I'm making those names up. I tell her all about the harrowing elimination, Francisca Lara's penalty against the crossbar that could have been the 3-0 that would have gotten them into the last sixteen. We get into the car, my wife at the wheel, thoughtful—.’
Read
September 2, 2024Literatura infantil: Cartas ao filho, de Alejandro Zambra
“Com você no colo, vejo pela primeira vez, na parede, a sombra que formamos juntos. Você tem vinte minutos de vida”. É com emocionante a experiência do primeiro contato de pai e filho que o leitor inicia o texto de “Literatura infantil”. E não se deixe enganar pelo título, já que a obra não é voltada para crianças, mas sim um convite para que os adultos mergulhem como espectadores na experiência inédita da paternidade.
Se vários são os livros escritos para os pais, seja em homenagens ou até em um acerto de contas, o autor chileno decidiu inovar e escrever “cartas ao filho”. “Narrar o mundo de que uma criança se esquecerá - tornamo-nos correspondentes de nosso filhos - é um desafio enorme”. E para o leitor, essa aventura é acolhedora e chega a esquentar o coração. Ao longo dos dias que sucedem o nascimento, acompanhamos as vivências e as descobertas de Zambra ao se encontrar na figura de pai pela primeira vez. É o aprendizado dessa “tarefa” que nasce sem manual de instruções, mas que vem junto com medos, descobertas, muita alegria e também frustrações.
Superada essa primeira parte, a obra nos revela os mais diferentes gêneros de textos, em que a paternidade é o tema que os une. Contos, crônicas, ensaios e mais relatos pessoais. E na escrita autobiográfica, o ponto alto do livro para mim, também encontramos a relação do Zambra como filho e a presença da literatura em toda a sua vida. Mesmo não sendo pai, a identificação com diferentes trechos da leitura foi inevitável.
Misturando um diário de paternidade com textos de ficção, o autor se vale de uma escrita fácil e simples, o que é, inclusive, uma característica das suas obras, mas sem nunca deixar a sensibilidade de lado.
“Literatura infantil” é uma leitura aconchegante, leve e, sobretudo, uma declaração de amor aos filhos.
Nota 9/10
Post: https://www.instagram.com/p/C-WBfS2xB1K/
Site: https://booksterpp.com.br/
“Com você no colo, vejo pela primeira vez, na parede, a sombra que formamos juntos. Você tem vinte minutos de vida”. É com emocionante a experiência do primeiro contato de pai e filho que o leitor inicia o texto de “Literatura infantil”. E não se deixe enganar pelo título, já que a obra não é voltada para crianças, mas sim um convite para que os adultos mergulhem como espectadores na experiência inédita da paternidade.
Se vários são os livros escritos para os pais, seja em homenagens ou até em um acerto de contas, o autor chileno decidiu inovar e escrever “cartas ao filho”. “Narrar o mundo de que uma criança se esquecerá - tornamo-nos correspondentes de nosso filhos - é um desafio enorme”. E para o leitor, essa aventura é acolhedora e chega a esquentar o coração. Ao longo dos dias que sucedem o nascimento, acompanhamos as vivências e as descobertas de Zambra ao se encontrar na figura de pai pela primeira vez. É o aprendizado dessa “tarefa” que nasce sem manual de instruções, mas que vem junto com medos, descobertas, muita alegria e também frustrações.
Superada essa primeira parte, a obra nos revela os mais diferentes gêneros de textos, em que a paternidade é o tema que os une. Contos, crônicas, ensaios e mais relatos pessoais. E na escrita autobiográfica, o ponto alto do livro para mim, também encontramos a relação do Zambra como filho e a presença da literatura em toda a sua vida. Mesmo não sendo pai, a identificação com diferentes trechos da leitura foi inevitável.
Misturando um diário de paternidade com textos de ficção, o autor se vale de uma escrita fácil e simples, o que é, inclusive, uma característica das suas obras, mas sem nunca deixar a sensibilidade de lado.
“Literatura infantil” é uma leitura aconchegante, leve e, sobretudo, uma declaração de amor aos filhos.
Nota 9/10
Post: https://www.instagram.com/p/C-WBfS2xB1K/
Site: https://booksterpp.com.br/
June 13, 2023
3.5
Me divertí mucho y me conmovió otro tanto, lo disfruté enormemente y me perdí cuando habló de Damian y Sebastián (¿quiénes son?) y cuando habló del futbol, me dije, ¿chin, por?
Luego entendí que iría más allá de su hijo, y que quizá serían una serie de ensayos y que yo no esperaba eso porque estaba muy contenta antes y luego dije que no es lo que yo quiera sino lo que él busque, entonces volví a fluir y dejarme sentir y disfruté a su padre y sus cosas pero igual seguí sintiendo que me cambió un poco la jugada en la segunda parte del libro y que yo hubiera preferido seguir con el tema de la primera sección, pero también creo que no es para pensarle tanto y que la contraportada se beneficiaría si no tuviera tantas letras, él es muy simpático y sensible y se lo pensaba regalar a mis hijos que son padres pero luego pues ya no
Me divertí mucho y me conmovió otro tanto, lo disfruté enormemente y me perdí cuando habló de Damian y Sebastián (¿quiénes son?) y cuando habló del futbol, me dije, ¿chin, por?
Luego entendí que iría más allá de su hijo, y que quizá serían una serie de ensayos y que yo no esperaba eso porque estaba muy contenta antes y luego dije que no es lo que yo quiera sino lo que él busque, entonces volví a fluir y dejarme sentir y disfruté a su padre y sus cosas pero igual seguí sintiendo que me cambió un poco la jugada en la segunda parte del libro y que yo hubiera preferido seguir con el tema de la primera sección, pero también creo que no es para pensarle tanto y que la contraportada se beneficiaría si no tuviera tantas letras, él es muy simpático y sensible y se lo pensaba regalar a mis hijos que son padres pero luego pues ya no
October 6, 2023
Disfruté un montón este libro que me atrapó de principio a fin. Un libro que conversa de alguna manera con Linea nigra de Jazmina Barrera, pues mientras ella hace un diario de embarazo y maternidad, el padre de su hijo escribe este diario de paternidad y me encantó poder leer estos textos que reflejan momentos diferentes y que al mismo tiempo se complementan.
En el caso de Literatura infantil veremos una mezcla de estilos que al principio leeremos como un diario y luego como ensayos, relatos y recuerdos que convergen en la paternidad, en los hijos, en la literatura, en los lazos que vamos formando y los lazos a los que siempre volvemos.
"La paternidad vuelve a legitimar juegos que abandonamos cuando el sentido del ridículo consiguió gobernarnos por entero."
Me gustó esta mezcla de ternura, humor y reflexiones profundas, estas frases llenas de poesía y poesía que fui marcando mientras leía y el estado de nostalgia y curiosidad por la propia infancia que traía consigo la paternidad.
Toca temas como el bullying, agresión, amistad, prejuicios, la presencia y ausencia de una figura paterna, crecer, tradiciones padre-hijo, masculinidad y crianza.
Hasta el momento es mi libro favorito del autor y lo recomiendo tanto a padres como a hijxs, y por qué no a madres, abuelos, a todos, creo que es un libro que de alguna manera puede conectar con cualquier lector.
"Hablamos del pasado y nos reímos de nosotros mismos como si nunca en el futuro fuéramos a reírnos de quienes somos ahora."
"leer es recibir secretos, pero también contarse secretos uno mismo."
Espero se animen a leer esta mezcla de diario / ficción / ensayo, que personalmente se robó mi corazón.
En el caso de Literatura infantil veremos una mezcla de estilos que al principio leeremos como un diario y luego como ensayos, relatos y recuerdos que convergen en la paternidad, en los hijos, en la literatura, en los lazos que vamos formando y los lazos a los que siempre volvemos.
"La paternidad vuelve a legitimar juegos que abandonamos cuando el sentido del ridículo consiguió gobernarnos por entero."
Me gustó esta mezcla de ternura, humor y reflexiones profundas, estas frases llenas de poesía y poesía que fui marcando mientras leía y el estado de nostalgia y curiosidad por la propia infancia que traía consigo la paternidad.
Toca temas como el bullying, agresión, amistad, prejuicios, la presencia y ausencia de una figura paterna, crecer, tradiciones padre-hijo, masculinidad y crianza.
Hasta el momento es mi libro favorito del autor y lo recomiendo tanto a padres como a hijxs, y por qué no a madres, abuelos, a todos, creo que es un libro que de alguna manera puede conectar con cualquier lector.
"Hablamos del pasado y nos reímos de nosotros mismos como si nunca en el futuro fuéramos a reírnos de quienes somos ahora."
"leer es recibir secretos, pero también contarse secretos uno mismo."
Espero se animen a leer esta mezcla de diario / ficción / ensayo, que personalmente se robó mi corazón.
October 1, 2025
Alejandro Zambra bu kitabında oğlunu ve oğlunun hayatına girmesiyle birlikte değişen hayatını anlatıyor. Tabii bunu her zamanki gibi kendine has üslubuyla yapıyor. Kitapta hem denemeler hem de öyküler var. Hepsinin ortak noktası çocuk olmak, ebeveyn olmak ve buna dair deneyimlerin kişileri nasıl değiştirip, dönüştürdüğü. Bazı anlatılanlar o kadar tanıdık ki söz konusu anne-baba olmak olunca herkesin kültürden, ülkeden bağımsız üç aşağı beş yukarı nasıl da aynı şeyleri yaşadığını anlıyor insan. Ne yazsa okutan bir yazar olduğu için tüm kitabı büyük bir zevkle okuduğumu söylememe gerek yok. Yazarı seven herkesi memnun edeceği için tanışmak isteyenler için de güzel bir başlangıç noktası kesinlikle.
July 10, 2023
Quiero abrazar a Zambra y darle las gracias.
June 11, 2023
Mientras leía Literatura infantil tuve la necesidad de escribir. Los ensayos despertaron recuerdos que creí olvidados: tardes de lluvia haciendo sopas de letras, los goles que creí hacer en el PES pero tenía el control desenchufado y mis primeras tardes de cancha (que no me gustaban).
También, mandé algunos mensajes con una cita y un “Zambra también escucha Calamaro” o “Leí esto y pensé en vos”.
Entendí que, a pesar de ser un acto silencioso, la literatura es compartida. Y si un libro invita a pensar en un otro es motivo suficiente para celebrarlo.
Literatura infantil es un cuadro de la infancia a través de un juego de roles: Zambra es padre y escribe para Silvestre, su hijo. Zambra es hijo y escribe para su padre. En este intercambio encuentra matices y ahí nace su literatura.
“Quiero que haya música. Lo primero que hacemos cada mañana es escuchar música y bailar. Y cuando nos echamos a leer en el sofá, quiero que la literatura sea una prolongación natural de la música, otra forma de música”.
Entre mis notas escribí: Capaz, como Zambra, escribo recuerdos. No para la memoria de un hijo, o un otro, sino para recuperar esa infancia y hacer de ella una literatura infantil. Silenciosa. Personal.
Este es un libro para volver a ser hijos y reconfortarnos con los mundos que crean las palabras.
También, mandé algunos mensajes con una cita y un “Zambra también escucha Calamaro” o “Leí esto y pensé en vos”.
Entendí que, a pesar de ser un acto silencioso, la literatura es compartida. Y si un libro invita a pensar en un otro es motivo suficiente para celebrarlo.
Literatura infantil es un cuadro de la infancia a través de un juego de roles: Zambra es padre y escribe para Silvestre, su hijo. Zambra es hijo y escribe para su padre. En este intercambio encuentra matices y ahí nace su literatura.
“Quiero que haya música. Lo primero que hacemos cada mañana es escuchar música y bailar. Y cuando nos echamos a leer en el sofá, quiero que la literatura sea una prolongación natural de la música, otra forma de música”.
Entre mis notas escribí: Capaz, como Zambra, escribo recuerdos. No para la memoria de un hijo, o un otro, sino para recuperar esa infancia y hacer de ella una literatura infantil. Silenciosa. Personal.
Este es un libro para volver a ser hijos y reconfortarnos con los mundos que crean las palabras.
October 29, 2025
Shortlisted for the Tadeusz Bradecki Prize
Shortlisted for the 2025 Oxford-Weidenfeld Translation Prize
Shortlisted for the 2025 Queen Sofía Spanish Institute Translation Prize
It seems so absurd to me that there is such thing as non-children’s literature, literature for adults, for non-children, a literature-literature that is the real literature; the idea that I write and read a real literature and the books you and I read together are a kind of substitute or alternative or preparation for real literature seems as unfair as it is false. And honestly, I don’t see any less literature in a story by Maurice Sendak or María Elena Walsh than in any of my favourites from ‘grown-up literature.’
Childish Literature is the 6th book I've read in Megan McDowell's translation from Alejandro Zambra, this from his 2023 Literatura infantil.
In my review The Private Life of Trees, published in English by Fitzcarraldo by 2022 but from a much earlier work, I commented that Zambra is an author that, having then read five of his books, just didn't work for me:
Childish Literature is a thematic departure in that regard, because the 30-something angsty single narrator/author is now a early-40s first time parent, the novel addressed to his son, and there is a consequential maturity and also sentimentality to the text.
There are men for whom fatherhood hits too hard. It’s as if overnight, from the mere fact of becoming fathers, they lose the ability to utter a single sentence without going into a story starring their children, who more than their children seem like their spiritual leaders, because for these lovestruck dads, even the blandest anecdote possesses a certain philosophical depth. That is, exactly, my case.
The book (novel? memoir?) that follows includes a diary of the first year or so of his son's life, stories of his early childhood, and towards the end Zambra reflecting on his own childhood and the relationship his son has with Zambra's father, his son's grandfather. On his own preparation for fatherhood:
What I find striking, in any case, is the almost absolute lack of a tradition. Since all human beings – I assume – have been born, it would seem natural for us to be experts in matters of child-rearing, but it turns out that we know very little, especially men, who sometimes seem like those cheerful students who show up to class blissfully unaware that there’s a test. While women passed on to their daughters the asphyxiating imperative of maternity, we grew up pampered and ineffectual and even humming along to ‘Billie Jean’.
While admitting (above) to the charge of sentimentality, he defends it, and indeed as well as the challenge to children's literature being regarded as a separate, lesser, genre (see opening quote) he also argues that sentimentality is overly avoided in literature:
For ages, literature has avoided sentimentalism like the plague. I have the impression that even today, many writers would rather be ignored than run the risk of being considered corny or mawkish. And the truth is that when it comes to writing about our children, happiness and tenderness defy our old masculine idea of the communicable. What to do, then, with the joyous and necessarily dopey satisfaction of watching a child learn to stand up or say his first words? And what kind of mirror is a child?
Literary tradition abounds with letters to my father , but letters to my son are pretty scarce. The reasons are predictable – sexism, selfishness, shame, adult centrism, negligence, self-censorship – but maybe it would be worth adding some purely literary reasons, because those of us who have tried know that writing about your own children is quite an artistic challenge. Certainly, it’s easier to omit kids or relegate them to the sidelines, or to see them as obstacles to writing and employ them as excuses; now it turns out it’s all their fault we haven’t been able to concentrate on our arduous, imposing novel.
It's certainly interesting to see the evolution in Zambra's thinking - but it makes for a rather banal read. I'm hoping that perhaps the new, more mature writer, will write books that resonate more with me in future - 7th time lucky?
Shortlisted for the 2025 Oxford-Weidenfeld Translation Prize
Shortlisted for the 2025 Queen Sofía Spanish Institute Translation Prize
It seems so absurd to me that there is such thing as non-children’s literature, literature for adults, for non-children, a literature-literature that is the real literature; the idea that I write and read a real literature and the books you and I read together are a kind of substitute or alternative or preparation for real literature seems as unfair as it is false. And honestly, I don’t see any less literature in a story by Maurice Sendak or María Elena Walsh than in any of my favourites from ‘grown-up literature.’
Childish Literature is the 6th book I've read in Megan McDowell's translation from Alejandro Zambra, this from his 2023 Literatura infantil.
In my review The Private Life of Trees, published in English by Fitzcarraldo by 2022 but from a much earlier work, I commented that Zambra is an author that, having then read five of his books, just didn't work for me:
I ought to love him - he's steeped in Latin American literature, particularly poetry; there is a playful meta nature to his work; he's published by one of my favourite UK publishers and translated by a brilliant translator; and he writes (Chilean Poet the dishonorable exception) wonderfully compact books
BUT ... something doesn't work and I think it is because his prose is deliberately flat and his stories are of 30-something angst that just doesn't grab me, with central male characters that are, per James Wood's NewYorker profile "spectatorial, somewhat literary (i.e., always “writing” something), hovering on the edge of things, passionate in love but destined to lose what he loves, and thus fatalistic and defensively unserious."
Childish Literature is a thematic departure in that regard, because the 30-something angsty single narrator/author is now a early-40s first time parent, the novel addressed to his son, and there is a consequential maturity and also sentimentality to the text.
There are men for whom fatherhood hits too hard. It’s as if overnight, from the mere fact of becoming fathers, they lose the ability to utter a single sentence without going into a story starring their children, who more than their children seem like their spiritual leaders, because for these lovestruck dads, even the blandest anecdote possesses a certain philosophical depth. That is, exactly, my case.
The book (novel? memoir?) that follows includes a diary of the first year or so of his son's life, stories of his early childhood, and towards the end Zambra reflecting on his own childhood and the relationship his son has with Zambra's father, his son's grandfather. On his own preparation for fatherhood:
What I find striking, in any case, is the almost absolute lack of a tradition. Since all human beings – I assume – have been born, it would seem natural for us to be experts in matters of child-rearing, but it turns out that we know very little, especially men, who sometimes seem like those cheerful students who show up to class blissfully unaware that there’s a test. While women passed on to their daughters the asphyxiating imperative of maternity, we grew up pampered and ineffectual and even humming along to ‘Billie Jean’.
While admitting (above) to the charge of sentimentality, he defends it, and indeed as well as the challenge to children's literature being regarded as a separate, lesser, genre (see opening quote) he also argues that sentimentality is overly avoided in literature:
For ages, literature has avoided sentimentalism like the plague. I have the impression that even today, many writers would rather be ignored than run the risk of being considered corny or mawkish. And the truth is that when it comes to writing about our children, happiness and tenderness defy our old masculine idea of the communicable. What to do, then, with the joyous and necessarily dopey satisfaction of watching a child learn to stand up or say his first words? And what kind of mirror is a child?
Literary tradition abounds with letters to my father , but letters to my son are pretty scarce. The reasons are predictable – sexism, selfishness, shame, adult centrism, negligence, self-censorship – but maybe it would be worth adding some purely literary reasons, because those of us who have tried know that writing about your own children is quite an artistic challenge. Certainly, it’s easier to omit kids or relegate them to the sidelines, or to see them as obstacles to writing and employ them as excuses; now it turns out it’s all their fault we haven’t been able to concentrate on our arduous, imposing novel.
It's certainly interesting to see the evolution in Zambra's thinking - but it makes for a rather banal read. I'm hoping that perhaps the new, more mature writer, will write books that resonate more with me in future - 7th time lucky?
February 4, 2025
Childish Literature - Alejandro Zambra
"الأسماء الأخيرة نثر، والأسماء الأولى شعر."
"وصولك يغير إلى الأبد كلمة البطولة، ومعاني كل الكلمات."
نادرًا ما نقرأ عن مشاعر الأبوة؛ وهنا تجربة ساحرة تضم مجموعة من القصص القصيرة والمقالات وحتى بعض القصائد التي كتبها أليخاندرو سامبرا يعدَ ولادة ابنه.
عمل مختلف عن تأثير الأبوة ومباهج الطفولة والذكريات والحياة الأسرية.
"الأسماء الأخيرة نثر، والأسماء الأولى شعر."
"وصولك يغير إلى الأبد كلمة البطولة، ومعاني كل الكلمات."
نادرًا ما نقرأ عن مشاعر الأبوة؛ وهنا تجربة ساحرة تضم مجموعة من القصص القصيرة والمقالات وحتى بعض القصائد التي كتبها أليخاندرو سامبرا يعدَ ولادة ابنه.
عمل مختلف عن تأثير الأبوة ومباهج الطفولة والذكريات والحياة الأسرية.
September 7, 2025
Sobre ser padre, sobre ser hijo, sobre ser padre mientras aún se es hijo. Sobre ser el padre del nieto de tu padre, sobre ser hijo del abuelo de tu hijo. Sobre ser todas estas cosas y más, y no por ello dejar de jugar.
July 15, 2024
4 stars: 3 for the first part, 5 for the second.
'Childish Literature' is hard to define, but probably a 'collection of autobiographical essays' is the most appropriate way to describe it. There is some short fiction too.
The book starts with Zambra's somewhat saccharine (and he admits this and sees no problem with it) musings on fatherhood, written in the days and months after the birth of his son.
I found the stories that followed in the second part better and more interesting (especially the ones on Darío, skyscrapers and football, as well as the story of Zambra tripping on the pajarito mushroom which is in the first part).
I am still not sure to what extent this a randomly thrown together bunch of scribblings or a carefully curated collection, and I probably prefer his fiction, but I enjoyed most of it all the same.
'Childish Literature' is hard to define, but probably a 'collection of autobiographical essays' is the most appropriate way to describe it. There is some short fiction too.
The book starts with Zambra's somewhat saccharine (and he admits this and sees no problem with it) musings on fatherhood, written in the days and months after the birth of his son.
I found the stories that followed in the second part better and more interesting (especially the ones on Darío, skyscrapers and football, as well as the story of Zambra tripping on the pajarito mushroom which is in the first part).
I am still not sure to what extent this a randomly thrown together bunch of scribblings or a carefully curated collection, and I probably prefer his fiction, but I enjoyed most of it all the same.
June 5, 2023
Probablemente el libro más tierno y menos anticonceptivo del mundo
June 24, 2024
Everything Zambra writes is just chefs kiss. I love how he always weaves his love of Latin American literature into his books and is always using it as an inspiration for his writing.
This collection is all based around childhood, parenting and being young. I’m kind of sick about reading books about motherhood at the moment but Zambra’s work came at it from a very paternal angle which was still super nurturing and looked at the relationships between fathers and sons. It was really funny in some parts and I love that Jazmina was in it loads because she’s an angel. The way he explores life and growing up and learning in his books are always so special and this one was just a beautiful as the rest, McDowell’s translation included.
This collection is all based around childhood, parenting and being young. I’m kind of sick about reading books about motherhood at the moment but Zambra’s work came at it from a very paternal angle which was still super nurturing and looked at the relationships between fathers and sons. It was really funny in some parts and I love that Jazmina was in it loads because she’s an angel. The way he explores life and growing up and learning in his books are always so special and this one was just a beautiful as the rest, McDowell’s translation included.
May 12, 2023
Con Jana también nos pasa que queremos despertar a Cloe cuando nos aburrimos. A ver, el libro es tierno, pero sin más: cuesta reconocer al Zambra de Poeta chileno
August 16, 2023
Ayyy, siempre termino llorando con Zambra, ya sea por el libro o porque toca fibras que me hacen sacar lagrimas por cualquier weá. Este viernes voy a verlo presentar este libro, y se siente como un reencuentro del que solo yo soy consciente :3 graciaaaasssss te kierooooooo.
June 2, 2023
¿Acá es la fila para enamorarse de Alejando Zambra?
Apenas empecé este libro supe que será el más hermoso que lea este año. Y también pensé "Me gusta incluso más que el anterior". Y también "Necesito un libro así que me dure dos años" y me corregí: "Necesito que este libro me dure para siempre."
No me importa de qué hable Alejandro Zambra. Yo quiero leerlo y que me cuente cosas. Y Alejando Zambra es mi literatura infantil porque es mi fantasía de un hombre, padre, presente, sensible.
Este libro me hizo reír y también me encontré que con una frase me destrozó y me dejó llorando irremediablemente. No pude recordar, antes de éste, cuál fue el último libro que había hecho llorar. Y cuando llegué al último capítulo, "Recado para mi hijo", también lloré, porque supe que el libro se terminaba. Eso, creo, no me había pasado nunca.
Voy a volver a este libro muchas veces. Me gustaría seguir escribiendo más cosas sobre él, pero no quiero que se me queme del budín que horneo para mi hija a deshoras.
Así que atrás, ¡a la fila!
Apenas empecé este libro supe que será el más hermoso que lea este año. Y también pensé "Me gusta incluso más que el anterior". Y también "Necesito un libro así que me dure dos años" y me corregí: "Necesito que este libro me dure para siempre."
No me importa de qué hable Alejandro Zambra. Yo quiero leerlo y que me cuente cosas. Y Alejando Zambra es mi literatura infantil porque es mi fantasía de un hombre, padre, presente, sensible.
Este libro me hizo reír y también me encontré que con una frase me destrozó y me dejó llorando irremediablemente. No pude recordar, antes de éste, cuál fue el último libro que había hecho llorar. Y cuando llegué al último capítulo, "Recado para mi hijo", también lloré, porque supe que el libro se terminaba. Eso, creo, no me había pasado nunca.
Voy a volver a este libro muchas veces. Me gustaría seguir escribiendo más cosas sobre él, pero no quiero que se me queme del budín que horneo para mi hija a deshoras.
Así que atrás, ¡a la fila!
August 13, 2023
¿Ensayo, novela, colección de cuentos? Difícil de clasificar, pero funciona. No es probablemente el mejor libro de Zambra y sin embargo, en este, la ternura propia de su escritura te abraza y conforta. Se agradece el retratar una paternidad que no sea la del arquetipo del padre sino más frágil, confusa y a la vez entregada. Hace falta más de eso en ma literatura.
September 22, 2025
4,5⭐
Este libro me pareció de una ternura inmensa. Me encantó cómo Zambra retrata la cotidianidad de la paternidad; me hizo pensar bastante en mi infancia y en cómo fui/soy también como madre.
Los recuerdos con el padre y los diálogos me sacaron muchas sonrisas, con algunas historias me reí mucho y con otras me emocioné.
No disfruté nada la parte del fútbol, lo siento :(
Pero, aun así, es un libro hermosito, de esos que se leen rápido pero dejan una sensación cálida y cercana.
Este libro me pareció de una ternura inmensa. Me encantó cómo Zambra retrata la cotidianidad de la paternidad; me hizo pensar bastante en mi infancia y en cómo fui/soy también como madre.
Los recuerdos con el padre y los diálogos me sacaron muchas sonrisas, con algunas historias me reí mucho y con otras me emocioné.
No disfruté nada la parte del fútbol, lo siento :(
Pero, aun así, es un libro hermosito, de esos que se leen rápido pero dejan una sensación cálida y cercana.
November 22, 2024
completamente devastado por su ternura
creo que voy a llamar a mi padre
creo que voy a llamar a mi padre
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