A prova

by César Aira, María Belén Riveiro (Postface), Joca Wolff (Translator)

Marcia tem dezesseis anos e é infeliz. Um dia, voltando da escola imersa nos torpores vespertinos do bairro de Flores, em Buenos Aires, ela é afrontada por uma pergunta-convite brusca: “Quer foder?”. Pega de surpresa, Marcia até tenta resistir, mas se vê rapidamente enredada por duas garotas punks, Lenin e Mao, que a seduzem com seu jeito transgressor e seu discurso sobre o amor. As duas, porém, não têm muito tempo para discussões filosóficas: elas precisam de provas.

Com um final apoteótico e de alta voltagem sexual, esta novelita pode ser lida como uma metáfora do primeiro encontro com a literatura de César Aira. Em uma lufada de poucas páginas, ela arranca todas as certezas de quem a lê. Mas para aqueles que, como Marcia, têm coragem de se entregar, ela oferece em troca o êxtase do arrebatamento e o imenso prazer da liberdade. Com um posfácio inédito da pesquisadora argentina María Belén Riveiro, especialista na obra de Aira, esta edição de “A prova” é uma ótima maneira de se iniciar nos mistérios airianos.

Genres: Fiction, Literary Fiction, Spanish Literature, Contemporary, Short Stories, Literature, Novella

152 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1992

About the author

César Aira was born in Coronel Pringles, Argentina in 1949, and has lived in Buenos Aires since 1967. He taught at the University of Buenos Aires (about Copi and Rimbaud) and at the University of Rosario (Constructivism and Mallarmé), and has translated and edited books from France, England, Italy, Brazil, Spain, Mexico, and Venezuela. Perhaps one of the most prolific writers in Argentina, and certainly one of the most talked about in Latin America, Aira has published more than eighty books to date in Argentina, Mexico, Colombia, Venezuela, Chile, and Spain, which have been translated for France, Great Britain, Italy, Brazil, Portugal, Greece, Austria, Romania, Russia, and now the United States. One novel, La prueba, has been made into a feature film, and How I Became a Nun was chosen as one of Argentina’s ten best books. Besides essays and novels Aira writes regularly for the Spanish newspaper El País. In 1996 he received a Guggenheim scholarship, in 2002 he was short listed for the Rómulo Gallegos prize, and has been shortlisted for the Man Booker International Prize.

Reviews

[Glenn Russell]

"WANNAFUCK?"
Marcia was so startled she didn't understand the question.

The above two lines serve as the opening for The Proof, Argentine author César Aira's remarkable novella.

Marcia is the tale's main character and our small, chubby, blonde sixteen-year-old is about to have an encounter that will radically shift the direction of her young life. Marcia strolls along an avenue in Buenos Aires three blocks away from Plaza Flores, in an area of the city where teenagers gather en masse.

The only reference to Marcia's backstory occurs in connection with a sense of time. "It was only logical that time should become denser when she got there. Outside her story she felt she was gliding along too rapidly, like a body in the ether where there was no resistance. Nor should there be too much resistance or she would be paralyzed, as had happened to her during a rather tragic period of her life that was already vanishing into the past."

César Aira plays with time throughout - for example, slowing down time in a Pumper hamburger joint, speeding up time in the final scene. But let's not get ahead of ourselves. Back on Marcia walking down the street, feeling as if she somehow exists on a different plane of reality. "It was as if she were a ghost, invisible."

But then it happens: two girls begin to follow her and quickly catch up, one talking to her, the other listening eagerly. The two slightly older girls are dressed in black - ah, punks, Marcia thinks. One of the punks says, "You're gorgeous and I want to fuck you," to which Marcia asks if she is out of her mind.

But it doesn't seem like a joke. "There was something serious but insane about the pair of them, about the situation. Marcia couldn't get over her astonishment. She looked away and kept on walking, but the punk grabbed her by the arm."

What follows will also astonish readers - and for good reason: César Aira has constructed an astonishing tale.

Step by step, the drama mounts. First the punks' conversation with Marcia on the street, then when the trio sits together in a fast food joint, and finally, the climatic, hyperviolent finale, the punks and Marcia in an enormous grocery store.

The Proof is best read in one sitting to absorb the full impact of unfolding events. Allow me to shift to a batch of philosophic reflections:

What's In a Name?
Wannafuck? The punk asking Marcia the question calls herself Mao. And the other punk goes by the name of Lenin. At one point in that hamburger stop, Mao tells Marcia both she and Lenin will change their names to Marcia. Why? As Mao cryptically explains, "Because tomorrow will be an important day in our lives."

How important? Foreshadowing with a vengeance; foreshadowing in murderous spades. And with hints that Mao and Lenin are not what they appear to be - these two gals might not be punks so much as combat-seasoned anarchists.

The Transformative Power of Art
Mao shares a story with Marcia. "Mao's art as a narrator had transported her from the plebeian neon lighting of the Pumper to the shadows of this dream, shot through with a lunar glow." If we as readers open ourselves up, we can also be transported via Aria's artistry.

Crafty César
Reviewing Terrorist, the 2006 novel by John Updike, James Wood criticizes the author for putting impossible thoughts in the head of his 18-year-old main character, impossible in the sense that an eighteen-year old could never have such thoughts and could never express such thoughts in the novelist’s sophisticated language.

Here's a snip of Marcia speaking to the punks: "When you two intercepted me, I was walking around in a world where seduction was very discreet, very invisible. Everything that was being said and was going on in the street were signs of seduction, because the world seduces a virgin, but nothing was aimed specifically at me. Then you two appeared, with your abrupt: wannafuck? It was as if innocence became personified, not exactly in you or in me, but in the situation, in the words (I can't explain it). Before then, the world was talking, but saying nothing. Afterward, when you said that, innocence removed her mask."

Does this strike you as the thinking and articulation of a sixteen-year-old? Oh, César, you sly dog! Similar to John Updike, you might be doing the same thing (what literary critics call a misuse of "free indirect style") but you do it with such a light touch and subtlety, it becomes a part of the tale's charm.

The Power of Love
Mao tells Marcia, "The big mistake is the world of explanation you live in. Love is a way out of that mistake. An escape from that mistake."

How crazy can we be when we're in love? What bizarre-o action will we inflict on the world to prove our love? Marcia is about to find out, big time.

Pulp Fiction/Kill Bill Redux
The concluding scene in that jumbo grocery store takes a mere five minutes of clock time. However, there's so much Quentin Tarantino-style action, the details span twenty pages. This is the explosive magic of César Aira's writing.

The Proof is a minor masterpiece. I double-dog dare anybody to read this short novel and judge otherwise.




Argentine author César Aira, born 1949

[Derian · Rating 5 out of 5]

Esta va al top de las treinta y pico de novelas que leí de Aira. Spoiler: es una prueba de amor.

[Петър Панчев · Rating 4 out of 5]

Признаците на любовта
(Цялото ревю е тук: https://knijenpetar.wordpress.com/202...)

От пръв поглед Сесар Айра ми се стори чудноват, ексцентричен, самобитен автор, който нахално се вторачва в проблемите на хората и ги „пренастройва“ до неузнаваемост. Имах някаква спирачка и стоях далеч от него, докато на книжния пазар не се появиха достатъчно книги – знак, че налагането му не е случайно. Все си избирах нещо друго, докато две от книгите му не се озоваха при мен под формата на подарък. Сега вече нямаше как да го пренебрегна. Чинно прегледах изписаното за него и се приготвих за сблъсък. Хората са толкова познати и предсказуеми, че биха погледнали на такъв натрапник все едно е призрак, който се явява винаги в неподходящ момент. Ако изпитвате смущение, то не е защото имате проблем, а защото не сте готови да погледнете на нещата от друг ъгъл. Трябва ви доказателство и все пак не сте готови да го получите. „Доказателството“ („Агата-А“, 2020, с превод на Цвета Русинова) е колкото странна, толкова и естествена история, задаваща въпроси и отговаряща им с нетипично за литературните творби упорство. Любов и желание, красота и щастие, смисъл и съвършенство… Макар да ни се струват ясни, срещата с тях винаги е непредсказуема, като с вградена джаджа с недобре направени настройки. Тя ни избутва от коловоза и паразитира в ума ни, докато намерим сили да я обуздаем. А как протича такъв сблъсък? Не ми е ясно дали Айра е просто нахален и е решил да си поиграе на смисъл, или ни изпитва по някакъв начин, но това „доказателство“ наистина влиза под кожата.
(Продължава в блога: https://knijenpetar.wordpress.com/202...)

[Steffi · Rating 4 out of 5]

Man denkt die ganze Zeit „Was soll das?“ Aber nicht, weil mal das Buch verärgert weglegen möchte, sondern weil man der Geschichte auf die Schliche kommen will. Das liest sich wie ein einziger Fiebertraum.

Marcia begegnet zwei weiblichen Punks, die sich Mao und Lenin nennen. Mao behauptet sich in Marcia verliebt zu haben. Marcia ist einfach nur neugierig, was die Punks ausmacht. Es kommt zu aberwitzigen Dialogen, die ins Nichts laufen, philosophisch sind, bei denen man einander nicht zuhört und Marcia dennoch immer wieder etwas zu verstehen meint. Bei dem titelgebenden Beweis geht es um den Liebesbeweis Maos. Dieser endet in einem Massaker. Immer wieder schleichen sich grotesk versachlichende Formulierungen in die Beobachtungen Marcias ein: „Sie sagte sich, im Grunde ist die Wirklichkeit viel theoretischer als das Denken.“ Sie ist enttäuscht, „weil sie nicht mehr Daten über die Welt der Punks hat sammeln können (da sie nicht die Gesamtdatenmenge wusste, wusste sie nicht, ob es viele oder wenige waren, die sie erfahren hatte)“. In einem „besetzten“ Supermarkt gibt es Menschen, „die angefangen hatten zu schreien und andere, die sich ernsthaft mit dem Thema der Flucht beschäftigten.“ Immer wieder scheint zwischendurch eine Erkenntnis aufzuleuchten und ist dann doch nicht fassbar.

Was soll das? Ich weiß es nicht. Welche Rolle spielt es, dass die beiden Punks Namen berühmter Kommunisten tragen? Warum wird die 1998 veröffentlichte Geschichte ins Jahr 1989 datiert? Geht es um einen Abgesang auf den Kommunismus? Steht der vorgeführte Beweis der Liebe für die Idee des real existierende Sozialismus, der in seiner Umsetzung ebenfalls verheerend war? Was hat es mit dem Realitätsbegriff auf sich, der Abgrenzung der „realen Welt“ von der „Welt der Erklärungen“? Fragen über Fragen und keine Antworten. Vermutlich schon ziemlich unsinnige Fragen, die das Wesentlichste dieser Geschichte verdecken: Ein außergewöhnliches Leseerlebnis!

[Cudeyo · Rating 2 out of 5]

Un relato corto, surrealista y oscuro, donde una chica aparentemente normal, anodina, conoce a dos chicas punk, y se suceden una serie de conversaciones y situaciones que no tienen ni pies ni cabeza.

Es un relato que no me ha gustado, pero reconozco que el autor tiene un dominio de la escritura que hace que te olvides que no te gusta la historia, tal vez esperando que una página después todo tenga sentido.

[Paul Fulcher · Rating 2 out of 5]

The shock had a delayed effect because there had been no time for it while the event was taking place; but afterwards it made no sense, it was a fictional shock. Marcia wasn't hysterical, or even nervous or impressionable, or paranoid; she was quite calm and rational.

No that wasn't where the change was. The atmosphere, the weight of reality had changed. Not because it had become more or less real, but because it seemed that now, anything could happen. Wasn't it like that before? Before, it was as if nothing could happen.
[...]
That two girls, two women, should have never wanted to pick her up, out loud, voicing obscenities, two punks who confirmed their violent self-expulsion from proper behaviour ... It was so unexpected, so novel ...

César Aira is certainly one of the most interesting writers currently in world literature, with a prodigious, highly imaginative and varied output, only a small part of which has currently been translated into English. There is a very good overview of the English language output at the Mookse and Gripes GR Group Group and a wonderful set of reviews at the Mookse and Gripes website as well as an extended description on the author page César Aira.

There is little I can add to any of that. But I have to say I've perhaps more admiration and appreciation for Aira's oeuvre as a whole than enthusiasm for the individual works.

As with a typical Aira novel this is less than 100 pages, and if anything feels expanded to that length, more of an extended short story than a novella.

As an aside, economically, GBP7.99 for such a short work also seems a little offputting. In the US this was published together with the story (see The Little Buddhist Monk) and I can't help feeling that is a more satisfying approach.

As for the story itself - the opening quote sums it up well. A lonely 16 year old, Marcia, is sexually propositioned by two punks girls. The very act of this happening is transformational for her and the whole experience enables her to appreciate the amazing potential for transformation latent in all things (the novel's key theme, if there is one). She tries to understand them and their ethos better but rather than engage in the conversations she tries to instigate they instead demonstrate their philosophy of love by the own proof they admit - action. And Marcia, and the story, is dragged into spiral of Natural Born Killers-like exaggerated violence.

[Maria · Rating 5 out of 5]

Erstaunlich und fabelhaft.

"Mao sah Marcia an. Marcia sah mao an und musste (innerlich) die Augen schließen, weil sie zu schön war."

[Ezequiel · Rating 2 out of 5]

Un embole es la mejor definición.

[Tom Mooney · Rating 4 out of 5]

Well, that escalated quickly.

I read a couple of Aira's books more than a decade ago and wasn't overly fussed on them. This, however, was great. A story with a startling opening that ends up in some shocking and surprising places. Cue Cesar Aira marathon.

[Gala · Rating 3 out of 5]

Me gustó el principio y cómo están estructurados los diálogos. Por momentos cuentan con un humor que me pareció bien logrado. Creo que a medida que pasa el libro y se plantea el "conflicto", la historia decae. Se sumerge en un mundo bastante delirante, propio de Aira, que a mí particularmente no me terminó de convencer; pero no por lo delirante en sí, sino porque me resultó algo descolocado en función de lo que venía pasando antes en la novela.

[Guillermo · Rating 4 out of 5]

Es normal -común- que leyendo a Aira el lector pare a interrogarse, ¿qué es esto? ¿qué estoy leyendo? Bueno, el gaucho de Pringles lo hizo de nuevo: ¿qué es esta novelita? No tengo la menor idea.

Digamos al menos que se trata. Una adolescente -virgen en muchos sentidos- es abordada por otras dos, punks y nada virginales. Lenin y Mao son las chicas punk; acosan a Marcia para que las siga, o para que se una a ellas; Marcia con timidez adolescente no puede desprenderse de ellas y tampoco quiere del todo; es finalmente una púber llena de vergüenzas, por sobre todo la vergüenza de llamar la atención. Charlan un rato de cualquier tema, como chicos que para ningún tema tienen la prudencia o la modestia de los viejos. Todo esto -que pasa en una o dos horas- sucede en el barrio de Flores, cuya geografía es detallada sin escrúpulos: calles y avenidas, supermercados, confiterías, calles oscuras o pobladas de jóvenes. Y entonces Mao y Lenin deciden probar su sinceridad; como típicos adolescentes ofrecen una prueba de amor. La prueba. Resulta imposible de resistir; entonces ante semejante acto de convicción Marcia se entrega, y huyen las tres. Un final feliz, aunque nunca visto (quizás en lisérgicas películas americanas). Fin.

Momentos bajos: algunos diálogos son un poco increíbles; admito que mi experiencia con adolescentes no es grande en los últimos tiempos, así que me suenen falsos no quiere decir mucho.

Apoteosis airana: de la galera del autor sale el apocalipsis, Apocalipsis Now, como si se abrieran las puertas al más allá y el infierno hiciera una pequeña excursión al barrio. Aira se desencadena, enloquece, y uno se queda con la boca abierta; es asombroso.

En resumen, inclasificable. Por la mitad no me gustaba, pero ese final a toda orquesta me hizo cambiar de idea.

[Nicola Balkind · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5. If you're looking for a fast-paced, surprising read, this is it. It swings wildly from confrontational to fun to threatening and macabre. One of the more straightforward of Aira's books, but he still packs a ton of surprises into so few pages.

[Northpapers · Rating 3 out of 5]

Well, that was surprising.

Which is something I could say after reading almost any of Aira's novellas for the first or second time. But even if the metaphysical antics, deadpan prose, and absurd premises of his other works were the norm, The Proof would have surprised me.

While Aira's stories typically move at a good clip, they also muse and meander. This one drives so aggressively forward that it thwarts Aira's usual swirling thoughts. Much of the novel is given to false attempts at conversation which are brushed aside abruptly, exchanged for exclamations or violence, over and over.

Two punks, Mao and Lenin, willfully reject any attempts to explore and justify their posture. The protagonist muses, attempts to paint a portrait of their views, asks questions, and gets nowhere until they act. They drive as directly as they can toward the violent proof of love for which the novella is named.

The Proof is truly a punk novel in the way it blasts through any attempts at ornamentation to get to the core action. This straight line is effective toward its own end. The book embodies its own theme. But for this reader, the propulsive movement robbed this book of some of the wonder and strangeness of Aira's other stories.

I enjoyed the read, and I went with it where it wanted to go, but it ended in territory where I had no desire to linger.

[Andy Weston · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a stand-out and memorable opening to a book...

Wannafuck?

Sixteen year-old, overweight Marcia is wandering around when similarly aged punks, calling themselves Lenin and Mao, interrupt her. At first she is very put off by them, but they are insistent, and she follows them to a fast-food restaurant, and a supermarket.
With a thirty pages of the book to go though, this love story gathers pace to say the least, to a quick, unsettling and astonishing end, as the punks prove their love to Marcia.
Its a wonderful little book, don't read too many reviews to avoid spoilers, simply know it is about the things we do for love..

[George · Rating 4 out of 5]

To quote my wife, ‘well that escalated quickly...’ Not just a shocking/gratuitous escalation though, some gnarly nuggets of thought to digest in there. Complex beyond its length.

[Rafosi · Rating 4 out of 5]

Para mí, una prosa totalmente nueva. Varios aspectos me patearon un poco (en mi reacción espontánea/visceral); creo que por lo mismo. Al principio me parecía muy cliché y luego lo pude ir masticando mejor. El narrador no personaje tiene mucha opinión y explica mucho (en comparación con otras narrativas), lo que da lugar a una lectura activa en otros aspectos que son los que más interesa analizar. La alegoría respecto del rol del arte, el maniqueísmo (como actitud ante la vida), las políticas identitarias de la heteronorma y la disidencia sexual, la disputa semántica por el concepto de amor, el nihilismo como potencia y como acción, etc., son algunos de los temas que aborda, soprendentemente en tan pocas páginas (el estilo del autor). También da para sospechar de muchas de las cosas que dice. Un desplazamiento de los límites diegéticos tradicionales; supongo que por eso lo han considerado vanguardista. Un pacto de lectura bastante denso, en parte porque no es (no me resultó) posible la identificación con los personajes, y porque tensiona al máximo la misma idea de verosimilitud. Aira jugó conmigo y me dejó con ganas de más. Qué suerte que escribe tanto y tan breve, a ver si en vacaciones... :^)

[Shatterlings · Rating 3 out of 5]

A strange short book, Marcia a tubby recently depressed girl meets 2 punks, Mao and Lenin. Things spiral out of control quickly and for little reason I could see. Is that the point? I really have no idea.

However China Mieville and I sponsored it through And other stories, so read it because of that.

[James Kinsley · Rating 3 out of 5]

Hard to know what to make of this, a dream-like, unfocused narrative where a lot is talked about but it's difficult to grasp. Its brevity is in its favour - I'm not sure a longer story would have held up, but in its brief passing it does create a striking atmosphere. I'm not sure what the author was attempting to say, but there's definitely something in it.

[M. Malmierca · Rating 3 out of 5]

La prueba (1992), del escritor argentino Cesar Aira (1949- ), es una novela corta muy en su estilo: directo y, por qué no decirlo, disparatado, casi surrealista (especialmente el final), donde todo se precipita desde un inicio con una premisa original: el encuentro de personajes antagónicos. Un relato más de este estupendo autor.

[Gary Homewood · Rating 4 out of 5]

Girl propositioned by 2 punk girls, cliche nihilism shifts tone with a story within the story, descends into violence. Short, oddly gripping, some interesting oblique asides about love, violence, destiny.

[Peter McCambridge · Rating 1 out of 5]

Seriously? That’s what all the fuss is about? So far this reads like a pastiche of an impenetrable novel with no plot.

[Juan Carlos López Domínguez · Rating 4 out of 5]

¡Qué loco y atractivo es leer a César Aira! Esta novela tiene de todo. Absurdo y realidad. Pero todo muy creíble, gracias al estilo rarísimo del autor.

La historia da cuenta de Marcia, una joven burguesa, fastidiada y aburrida. Sale a distraerse y se encuentra a un par de jóvenes mujeres punk (Mao y Lenin [guiño irónico de Aira]), quienes la acosan, particularmente una de ellas, le grita "¿Quieres coger?" Esta primera parte de la novela impone cierta tensión erótica. Y cuando tú como lector crees que ya conoces el tono narrativo que desarrollará hasta el final el relato, te das cuenta que no aún no sabes nada.

Marcia, se resistirá pero terminará por vagar con ellas. Irán a platicar y a perder el tiempo a un centro comercial del que intentarán correrlas. Tendrán diálogos de tipo filosófico y pseudo-filosófico. Por momentos, cuesta trabajo seguir el hilo de la discusión. La tensión erótica se desvanece totalmente.

Marcia aceptará participar en la "prueba" que le proponen. Irán a un centro comercial y sin avisar a Marcia, Mao y Lenin cerrarán las salidas y cometerán un atraco, en el que no solo intentan robar sino que quieren generar caos y destrucción. Inician varios incendios. Quieren sentir que transgreden, que no tienen límites, que pueden tomar la vida de los demás. Marcia asumirá un papel pasivo, pero permisivo. Marcia gradualmente se irá convirtiendo en una de ellas.

¡Una lectura loca, rápida, absurda, incómoda, y muy atractiva!

[Conor Flynn · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5. really bizarre book told in one streaming passage, with no shortage of impressive rhetorical feats. lots of philosophising about the world that comes across clearly more often than not, with the odd passage (especially some of the more lyrical ones) not really working.

did not see the twist coming at all, almost felt like a whole new narrative beginning that left the original behind. as gripping as the final scene was, found the ending a little frustrating in its lack of resolution of/reckoning with the first part of the book (and Marcia's perspective), but enjoyed the transcendental imagery and acknowledge it is consistent with how deftly and deliberately aira unfolds the narrative throughout. still not convinced he's for me but liked this a lot more than the seamstress and the wind

[Mili Cicero · Rating 4 out of 5]

quién para demostrarme amor como mao y lenin

[Tee · Rating 3 out of 5]

A fever dream of a novella.

[morag Sarkar · Rating 4 out of 5]

Cesar can make a 30-minute chance encounter, into a teenage carnage outing in an Argentine shopping mall.
I could not explain the details as you are the fourth person walking with them on this messy outcome.
It's a weird experience -not many writers could achieve.
I will have to read it again -in a years time to see if I get it.

[Lucas Marques]

"Lembrem-se que tudo que acontecer por aqui será por amor."

Desses livros que começa com uma porrada e termina com um BUM!
César Aira não tá nem aí.

[salva · Rating 4 out of 5]

súper raro. me encantó.

[Ian Mond · Rating 4 out of 5]

What can I say about Cesar Aira's The Proof in polite company and without spoiling the final twenty pages (or so).* Frankly nothing. The book's opening word - "Wannafuck?" - immediately precludes polite company and the climax eclipses the first two thirds of the novella. Consequently I'll need to spoil the ending to discuss the book. But don't fret. It's a short novella. You can read it while I'm typing this review. How about we meet back here in an hour.

...

The plot, what there is of it, is straightforward. Marcia is walking down the streets of Flores (a district in Argentina) when she is accosted by two "punk girls" Lenin and Mao (the novella was written in the late 80s so the punks aren't nostalgic but reflective of the time**). Rather than do a runner - which is what I would have done -, Marcia, fascinated by Lenin's "horsey face... all her features (eyes, nose, mouth) seemed out of proportion, and haphazard" and Mao's countenance which could be "considered a living jewel, the realisation of an ideal. Generations of incestuous monarchs would have been needed to produce her" decides to spend time with them. What follows is a discussion on the nature of love culminating in an extended moment of crazy violence.

If it isn't clear from those snippets above, Aira's prose is dense and lyrical and almost always playful. It's exciting to read a piece of fiction where it's not entirely clear where each sentence is headed. That's not to say the book is confusing. The Proof is a dialectic on love (Socrates would be proud) where our girl punks argue, with some push-back from Marcia, that love is a primal, brutal and instant emotion as evidenced by this magnificent (and lengthy) passage:

"You [Marcia] believe in love at first sight just as I do, and so does the rest of the world. That’s a necessity. We can’t do without that. Now, as to me being a girl and not a boy, a woman and not a man… You’re horrified at us being so brutal, but it hasn’t occurred to you that in the end that’s all there is. In those same explanations you’re always looking for, when it comes down to it, when it’s the very last explanation, what’s left but a naked, horrible clarity? Even men are that brutal, even if they are professors of philosophy, because underneath everything else there’s the length and breadth of their pricks. That and nothing more. That’s the reality. Of course it may take them many years and many miles to realise that; they can exhaust every single word beforehand, but it’s all the same, however long they take, whether it takes them a lifetime to get there, or if they flash their dick at you before you’ve even crossed the street. We women have the wonderful advantage of being able to choose the long or short route. We can turn the world into a stroke of lightning, the blink of an eye. But since we don’t have dicks, we waste our brutality in contemplation. And yet… there is suddenness. An instant when the whole world becomes real, when it undergoes the most radical change: the world becomes world. That’s staring us in the face, Marcia. That’s when all politeness, all conversation has to stop. It’s happiness, and that’s what I’m offering you. You’d be the most stupid cow of all time if you didn’t see that. Just think, there’s so little separating you from your destiny. You only have to say yes."

But it's the ending that took my breath away. To prove their love Lenin and Mao with Marcia in tow assault a Disco supermarket (an Argentine chain of supermarkets and not an actual Disco). The Love Commando's - as Lenin and Mao refer to themselves - tell the frightened shoppers that love is demanding and therefore there will be some injuries and death. What follows is a literal explosion of violence and gore with people on fire, running through windows (defenestrating themselves) and dying brutally from gunshot wounds and other related injuries. You are unlikely to have read something this breathlessly insane.

This is my first taste of Aira's fiction – he's been writing for more than forty years and is famous for his prolific output – so I can't say how this ludicrous, disturbing, eccentric ending ranks with his other novels and novellas. What I do know is that subject to translations this won't be my last exposure to Aira's work.

* DO NOT READ THE BACK COVER BLURB

** He says with confidence knowing nothing about the punk scene in Argentina.

[Leandro · Rating 5 out of 5]

Uma das leituras mais incríveis da minha vida.