Three Trapped Tigers

by Guillermo Cabrera Infante, Donald Gardner (Translator), Suzanne Jill Levine (Translator)

The novel is set in 1958 and centers around three young people within the nightlife of pre-revolutionary Havana.

Genres: Fiction, Spanish Literature, Latin American, Novels, Literature, Latin American Literature, Classics

487 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1967

About the author

Escritor de origem cubana, Guillermo Cabrera Infante nasceu a 22 de Abril de 1929, em Gibara, Cuba, e faleceu a 22 de Fevereiro de 2005, em Londres, Inglaterra.
Filho de pais directamente ligados à política - fundadores, em Gibera, do Partido Comunista - desde cedo se viu confrontado com um forte ambiente de consciência política. Motivado pela profissão dos pais, Cabrera Infante viu-se forçado a mudar para Havana em 1941.
Em 1959 Cabrera Infante era já bastante conhecido pelas fantásticas críticas de cinema que publicava na revista Carteles e por alguns textos e contos que publicava em revistas como Ciclón. Mas foi, indubitavelmente, em 1964 que ganhou notoriedade ao publicar a sua "obra-prima" Tres Tristes Tigres, publicada depois em Espanha, pela Editora Seix Barral, em 1967 (sendo esta a edição mais conhecida e mais referida).
Cabrera Infante exerceu diversos cargos, dentre os quais se destacam os de Presidente do Conselho Nacional de Cultura, Director de Lunes de la Revolución - suplemento cultural do jornal com o mesmo nome, Director Executivo do Instituto do Filme e Adido Cultural da Embaixada da Bélgica, cargo que exerceu de 1962 a 1965 - data em que abandonou o posto por severas críticas ao regime de Fidel Castro, exilando-se, então, em Inglaterra, país que, a partir daí, adoptou como pátria. Mesmo exilado, Cuba sempre esteve presente na vida de Cabrera Infante: a partir de 1966 (data de exílio em Londres), começou um ataque cerrado ao regime de Fidel Castro; no âmbito da sua produção literária, Havana, cidade de eleição, por ser a capital onde tudo de mais importante se passava, marcou indubitavelmente o mundo anedótico de toda a sua obra. Revelando um espírito extremamente combativo e de feroz consciência crítica, Cabrera Infante jamais desistiu de denunciar as realidades cubanas que pretendia combater. Na maioria das suas produções é fácil reconhecer uma contínua preocupação e um interesse fervoroso por recriar, espelhar a linguagem de Havana: os seus sons, as suas músicas, os barulhos das suas ruas, as conversas do seu povo, sempre num realismo acutilante que revelava ao mundo uma dura realidade que muitos pretendiam esconder. O preço que pagou por tal postura foi ter visto, continuamente, as suas obras serem proibidas em terras cubanas, embora disponíveis em toda a Europa e até mesmo nos Estados Unidos da América - em especial em Miami, onde reside uma vasta colónia de cubanos admiradores deste pensador que, sem medos, denuncia a realidade de Cuba castrista. A comprovar este elevado interesse da obra de Cabreara Infante nestas partes americanas é o facto de ter sido condecorado Doutor Honoris Causa pela Universidade da Flórida (EUA).
Denunciava o regime político da sua primeira pátria mas demonstrava um profundo amor pela terra que o vira nascer: Cuba está marcadamente presente em toda a sua prosa - seja ela em novela, em conto ou em simples ensaios; a paixão desmedida por Havana é facilmente reconhecida na fantástica recriação que faz na linguagem, através de jogos sucessivos que nos levam a "adivinhar" esse objectivo de demonstrar tal sentimento.
O aparecimento em Espanha de Tres Tristes Tigres foi um forte e significativo sinal do que iria ser, e já era, de facto, toda uma linha de produção literária deste autor cubano. A obra referida teve de tal modo impacto no cenário literário, que viu, tempos depois, surgir um convite para adaptação a filme do realizador chileno Patricio Guzman.
Conversação, erotismo, música, humor, cinema, escrita lúdica, fizeram da obra de Cabrera Infante uma autêntica "obra em progresso". Todos os seus títulos, os seus livros, podem e devem ser lidos como um só livro, como uma autêntica ilha, à volta da qual gravitam todos os temas. A essa "ilha" estão ligadas as suas nostalgias, os seus amores, a sua memória, enfim, a sua escrita.
É difícil esta sua tendência para o exílio (em diversos sentidos), para

Reviews

[Vit Babenco · Rating 5 out of 5]

“If you look closely, there is no book more visual than Three Trapped Tigers, in that it is filled with blank pages, dark pages, it has stars made of words, the famous magical cube made of numbers, and there is even a page which is a mirror.” – Guillermo Cabrera Infante.
If Jorge Luis Borges were to write a novel and if he did belong to the beat generation he would create an opus like this.

Instead of an answer a torrent of music gushed out of my mouth: violent, rhythmic, nonstop. It was rock ‘n’ roll being played in some part of the house. Under my chair, perhaps?

Life is music, life is a melody, life is a bolero, life is a song…

If the dreams of reason beget monsters, what do the dreams of unreason beget?

While moving through the everlasting music the denizens of tropical night are incessantly exercising in intellectual and amorous conundrums: life is a game, or maybe life is a gamble, or maybe life is a jigsaw puzzle.

We sailed between buildings that were more mirrors than buildings, reflections that could swallow the eyes of those who gazed at them, past parks where the grass was either burnt or intensely green, on toward another city, older, darker and still more beautiful. Slowly, inevitably, a pier moved toward us.

Life is an insolvable riddle.

[°°°·.°·..·°¯°·._.· ʜᴇʟᴇɴ Ροζουλί Εωσφόρος ·._.·°¯°·.·° .·°°° ★·.·´¯`·.·★ Ⓥⓔⓡⓝⓤⓢ Ⓟⓞⓡⓣⓘⓣⓞⓡ Ⓐⓡⓒⓐⓝⓤⓢ Ταμετούρο Αμ · Rating 5 out of 5]

Ήταν τρελός, ήταν τρελός , αξιολάτρευτα και συγκλονιστικά τρελός αυτός ο Κουβανός συγγραφέας. Τόσο τρελός που γίνεται αντιφατικά ιδιοφυής σοφός.

«Τρεις ταλαίπωροι τίγρεις» ο τίτλος που χρησιμοποίησε για το έργο του, ακόμη κι ο τίτλος εφευρετικός και παρεξηγημένος.
Κάπου μέσα στην απίστευτη παλινδρομική ροή της ιστορίας, σε κάποιο νοερό κρυσφήγετο εννοιών και αλληγοριών ίσως και λαϊκών θρύλων της Κουβάς ή παροιμιών,εξηγείται η σημασία του τίτλου και εκτιμάται αναλόγως.

Πρόκειται για έναν ολοζώντανο απολογισμό της νυχτερινής κυρίως ζωής στην Αβάνα, πριν απο το καθεστώς του Κάστρο.
Η αφήγηση - διήγηση -απεικόνιση -εξιστόρηση -και κάθε είδους σχολιασμός γίνεται απο τέσσερις φίλους που προσπαθούν να χτίσουν αναμνήσεις και σταδιοδρομία με απόλυτα πετυχημένη αποτυχία.

Το βιβλίο αυτό θα μπορούσαμε να πούμε πως σχεδιάστηκε σαν ένα νυχτερινό κέντρο διασκέδασης
στο οποίο συχνάζουν όλοι οι ήρωες που πρωταγωνιστούν στην ιστορία και αφηγούνται ή θυμούνται τα γεγονότα της ζωής τους, καθώς και των υπόλοιπων χαρακτήρων, με σειρά εμφάνισης σαφώς μπερδεμένη.

Το σόου αρχίζει με το περίφημο καμπαρέ Τροπικάνα στην Αβάνα και ξεκινάει μια φρενήρης, πολύγλωσση και πολυφωνική εισαγωγή στο έργο μας.
Η αφήγηση αρχικά γίνεται τμηματικά απο τους θαμώνες του καμπαρέ χωρίς εξηγήσεις ή διευκρινίσεις σχετικά με τα πρόσωπα που αναφέρονται.
Χωρίς επεξηγήσεις ή συλλογική συνοχή.

Ακολουθεί μια μονόπλευρη τηλεφωνική συνομιλία, μια επιστολή, μια ιστορία πολύπλευρη και συναισθηματικά παιχνιδιάρα η οποία εμφανίζεται ως μια σειρά απο κομμάτια που τοποθετούνται σε διαφορα σημεία του κειμένου, καθώς και μια άλλη ιστορία που συμπληρώνεται με «διορθώσεις» απο τη συζύγο του συγγραφέα της συγκεκεριμένης ιστορίας, η οποία τελικά είναι φανταστικό πρόσωπο και εξυπηρετεί τη δημιουργικότητα του υποτιθέμενου συζύγου της.

Υπάρχουν ακόμα μέσα σε αυτό το βιβλίο θραύσματα απο συνεδρίες κάποιας γυναίκας με έναν ψυχίατρο. Ποτέ δε μαθαίνουμε ποια είναι η γυναίκα που χρήζει ιατρικής βοήθειας, στο τέλος όμως είναι αυτή η κυρία που ρίχνει αυλαία στο σόου και μας συγκλονίζει.

Αν μπερδευτήκατε ως εδώ είναι απολύτως φυσιολογικό. Διαβάζοντας σχεδόν το πρώτο μισό του βιβλίου ένιωσα το λιγότερο αμβλύνους, το περισσότερο πως αυτό που διαβάζω ειναι άλλο απο αυτό που κατάλαβα και άλλο αυτό που γράφει ο Ινφάντε.
Μπερδεύτηκα. Χάθηκα. Απογοητεύτηκα.
Αλλά ως γνήσια ψυχαναγκαστική και μεγάλη εγωίστρια για να δεχτώ την ήττα συνέχισα με απεριόριστη προσύλωση και εμβρίθεια, κυρίως αναφορικά με τα πρόσωπα και τα ονόματα.

Δικαιώθηκα.
Ακριβώς όπως θα δικαιωθούν όλοι οι αναγνώστες με κάποια ικανότητα συναρμολόγησης...

Ο συγγραφέας διευκρινίζει πως το έργο του αποτελείται απο φωνές και ότι οι φωνές δεν έχουν «βιογραφία».
Απο αυτό ορμώμενη αποφάσισα πως η μόνη δυνατή συνοχή που μου απομένει απορρέει απο την ικανότητα μου να συναρμολογήσω θραύσματα ή εκατοντάδες κομμάτια απο κάποιο παζλ που δεν βλέπω την εικόνα.

Έτσι, τολμώ να πω κατέληξα σε ένα περισσότερο ή λιγότερο σημαντικό σύνολο.
Συναρμολογώντας.
Φυσικά και υπάρχει κάποια συμμετρία σε αυτά τα θραύσματα της αφήγησης. Διάφοροι χαρακτήρες, γεγονότα, ιστορίες και θέματα που εισάγονται στο πρώτο μισό, αντικατοπτρίζονται στο δεύτερο μισό με σχεδον ίδια απόσταση απο το τέλος, επειδή η εμφάνιση τους όμως γίνεται εξαρχής, συνδέονται και κατανοούνται επαρκέστατα.

Με επιμονή,υπομονή αλλά και με μεγάλη απόλαυση στην πορεία το τέλος δικαιώνει τον αναγνώστη.

Το «τρεις παγιδευμένοι τίγρεις» είναι ένα μυαλό. Τόσο υπερφορτωμένο με στοιχεία λογοτεχνίας, ιστορίας, κινηματογράφου και καυστικού χιούμορ που αγγίζει τα όρια διαταραχής.
Το αναμενόμενο αποτέλεσμα, ίσως, είναι να γνωρίσουμε την
προ- επαναστατική Αβάνα μέσα απο τα μάτια του συγγραφέα.
Ίσως και να μην είναι, σίγουρα όμως μέσα στο βιβλίο διαχέεται όλη η τροπική ομορφιά του τόπου.

Παραδοσιακή μουσική, ερωτικές χορευτικές μελωδίες, ποτά, ήχοι, μυρωδιές, πυκνή βλάστηση, νυχτερινή ακολασία, γυναικίες θεότητες... κάθε πίστης και θρησκείας, κάθε γούστου, κάθε χρήσης...και κατάχρησης.

Πολλές εθνικότητες, πολλές γλώσσες, πολλές κοινωνικές και εξουσιαστικές τάξεις.

Μπροστά στα μάτια του αναγνώστη παρελαύνουν όλοι οι συγγραφείς της παγκόσμιας λογοτεχνίας, είτε ονομαστικά σε κάποια στιχομυθία, είτε παραθέτοντας φράσεις και τίτλους έργων τους.
Ακολουθούν σπουδαίοι ηθοποιοί και ταινίες ορόσημα του κινηματογράφου με σαφείς ιστορικές και πολιτικές αναφορές.

Όλα αυτά βέβαια εν είδει παραλληλισμών, αλληγοριών, λογοπαίγνιων και κωμικά παραλλαγμένων στοιχείων με ανάμειξη γλωσσικών μεταφράσεων.
Με πολλές στρεβλώσεις και μεταλλάξεις των δημιουργών ο συγγραφέας προσθέτει ένα μοναδικά δηκτικό χιούμορ.
Σε όλο το βιβλίο αυτό το καυστικό χιούμορ καλύπτει και απομακρύνει τις τραγικές υπονομεύσεις μιας σκληρής πραγματικότητας.
Αν το αισθανθείς καταλαβαίνεις αργά και σταθερά πως κάθε παράγραφος γέλιου καταλήγει σε θλίψη και σιωπή, καταλήγει στην αλήθεια.

Μια χώρα στα πρόθυρα κατάρρευσης.
Όλα ειναι παράδοξα, μπερδεμένα, οικεία, μεταλλαγμένα, ζοφερά, αξιοθαύμαστα, πνιγηρά, μελωδικά και αληθινά.
Ηδονή στην Κούβα...
και το μηδέν θα είναι πάντα η προέκταση της αιωνιότητας.


Καλή ανάγνωση!!
Πολλούς ασπασμούς!!

[Valeriu Gherghel · Rating 3 out of 5]

O descriere a vieții de noapte în Havana anilor '50.

Modelul autorului a fost, desigur, James Joyce. Întîlnim aproape la fiecare pagină jocuri de cuvinte cu haz sau fără (în patru limbi: spaniolă, franceză, engleză și germană) și construcții adjectivale ternare, de tipul: „mare vastă și profundă și eternă” (p.329), sau „albastru arzător și metalic și orbitor” (p.333), sau: „nori îndepărtați și joși și aparent solizi” (p.342).

Există și o aluzie, nefericită, la Eugène Ionesco, în următorul context: „O să sfîrșești cum a început Humbert Humbert. Sau ca Hunger Humbert sau Humble Humbert. Sau ca Humperdinck. Hansel & Gretel. Mai bine Gretel și pe urmă. O să ajungi și un Invert Humbert. Căcat, mai bine eunuc. Eugene Eunusco. O să lucrez la Iunescu” (p.408). Cam acesta este stilul întregii cărți. Din păcate.

În încheierea acestei note, pentru a dovedi că nu sînt meschin, voi cita două pasaje cu adevărat frumoase:

(1) „Dar cum muzica se oprea de fiecare dată cînd se stingea tonomatul, dansatoarea rămînea în aer şi făcea nişte paşi ciudaţi, lungi, cu corpul ei formidabil şi întindea un picior de culoarea sepiei, pămîntiu acum, ciocolatiu acum, tutuniu acum, de zahăr negru acum, de scorţişoară acum, de cafea acum, cafea cu lapte acum, miere acum, lucind de transpiraţie, întins datorită dansului, lăsînd în clipa aceasta să i se ridice fusta pe deasupra genunchilor rotunzi şi şlefuiţi şi sepia şi de scorţişoară şi de tutun şi de cafea şi de miere” (p.69).

(2) „Glasul ei se înălţa blînd, catifelat, lichid, uleios acum, un glas coloidal ce se revărsa din tot trupul ei ca şi cum ar fi fost plasma vocii sale şi brusc m-am înfiorat. De mult timp nu mă mai emoţionase ceva atît de tare” (p.70).

[StefanP · Rating 5 out of 5]

Smrt je nastavak života drugim sredstvima, ili obrnuto rečeno.

Prvo, svaka čast prevodiocima. Sigurno da nije bilo lako ovo prevesti. Prvenstveno jer ima dosta nekih peripetija koje traže unos sopstvene kulture i domaćeg šmeka. Što sigurno zahtjeva dosta truda.

Drugo, pisac tačno nije normalan.

Treće, nekako sam u početku mislio da će me ova knjiga mentalno slomiti, kao što je to skoro prošle godine uradio Ljosa sa njegovom knjigom Razgovor u katedrali. Međutim ova knjiga nema nikakve veze s politikom, političkim idejama, revolucijama itd. Opisuje pogibiju Trockog, ali ništa više od toga, potpuno zanemarljivo. Ovu knjigu sam odlučio da posmatram kao jednu ‘Veliku šalu’ kako je to već sam pisac preporučio.

Tokom čitanja TTT čitalac će lako primjetiti da je Giljermo Kabrera Infante vrlo načitan. Kroz mnoge klasik, kako knjiške tako i filmske on će stvarati smicalice, praviti smiješne aluzije, i voditi borbu sa svojim junacima. Na svakoj stranici prisutno je mnoštvo fusnota i insinuacija. Takođe postoji i jedanaest zasebnih priča žene koja se nalazi na terapiji kod psihijatra. Ove priče možete i po dva puta da pročitate, vrlo su kratke. Poslije njih nećete znati da li da plačete ili jednostavno da puknete od smjeha.

Mislim da knjiga nema nikakve veze sa imenom “Tri tužna tigra” oni se spominju samo dva puta, usputno, i to je to. Naime, GKI smatra da je latinoamerička književnost suviše ozbiljna, i da joj treba vedrine. On se zaista potrudio da unese tu vedrinu. Karakterizacija likova je prilično upečatljiva, kod jednih nešto više, kod drugih pak manje. Od muških likova Arsenia Kuea i Bustrofedona (ma ko on to bio) vjerovatno nećete zaboraviti. Od ženskih Kuba Venegas i Vivijen Smit-Korona su se najviše isticale. Njegovi likovi su prepušteni ‘divljoj lijepoti života.’ Neprestana Havanska spoljna vrućina, muzičari, daikiri, kabare, bolero, radost, pošalice, odsustvo atavističkih strahova jesu smjesa sedativa koju pruža ova knjiga. Sve likove iz romana povezuje ljubav jednih prema drugima, strast, opšte ludilo itd. Tropikana će biti čuveno mjesto njihovog okupljanja. I ako ‘Velika šala,’ može dosta zanimljivog da se izvuče iz ove knjige. Svakako da je ovo knjiga za ponovno čitanje, i da će sa svakim čitanjem u njoj uvijek postojati nešto čudesno novo.

[Jonfaith · Rating 5 out of 5]

I was dizzy and short of breath when I finally saw this on the shelves at Twice-Told back in my Boom days. My vertigo may have been induced by the fact that I lived on espresso and spent all food money on books and cds. Those were strange times of death-trap automobiles and working two full-time jobs to remain poor but literate.

The friendship displayed in the Three Trapped Tigers was beyond moving. The erudition itself was arresting but the emotional bond within the text captured me. I have felt those sinuous bonds throughout my life but this was a confirmation, especially at such a vulnerable juncture. One's youth is so vulnerable, later it becomes simply debatable.

[Miloš Kostić · Rating 5 out of 5]

Šta reći o romanu za koji je u predgovoru napisano uputstvo za čitanje? I da, za razliku od većine predgovora, ovaj valja pročitati PRE prvog čitanja. Opisivati radnju u prikazu znači omašiti poentu. Ako je uopšte moguće jasno odrediti o čemu se zapravo radi.

Nije laka knjiga, ali samo je manji deo nerazumljiv za samo čitanje. Veći deo je lako čitati, što ne znači da ćete razumeti šta ze zaboga dešava. Ima delova u kojima sam hteo da pojedem i nokte i prste i celu knjigu. Zbog nerazumevanja i salate od reči, naravno, ali većinom zbog nervoze što ne mogu brže da čitam, sažvaćem je celu i utolim glad za JOŠ OVOGA. Milina je čitati čak i ako se poenta uopšte ne nazire. Kod ove knjige mi se poklopilo nekoliko stvari koje mnogo volim: savršen moderan stil, knjiga je neobična, originalna, ludački moderna, latinoamerički ludačka.

Prolog knjige je u stvari uvodni deo neke kabaretske predstave u Tropikani, najava ludog provoda. Sasvim opravdano, jer lud provod ćete svakako i dobiti. Naglasak je na LUD. Koliko vidim, mnogo ljudi tumači naslov kao da je o tri glavna lika (zapravo ih ima najmanje četvorica, plus još nekoliko žena) iako niko ovde nije tužan. U stvari, kako nam kazuje predgovor, tres tristes tigres su prve reči neke besmislene kubanske brzalice, nešto kao naše ture bure valja. Ova informacija može dosta objasniti šta se može naći u ovoj knjizi. Kakofonija glasova, sva poglavlja su pisana u prvom licu jednine iako ima mnogo pripovedača. I sva ta pripovedanja treba uklopiti u jednu slagalicu. Početna poglavlja je moguće uklopiti samo posle pročitane cele knjige. Znači, slagalica! Zbog ovoga sam pri kraju često listao unazad i umalo nisam počeo da je čitam redom iz početka posle zadnje strane. Verujem da mi ne gine drugo čitanje već za par meseci.

Knjiga je prepuna igara reči, ima svake moguće igre s rečima. Prevodiocima svaka čast! Mogu samo da zamišljam kakav je doživljaj ovo čitati na španskom (kubanskom) i kako sve ovo u stvari zvuči kada se čita naglas na španskom. Zbog svega ovoga knjiga ima bukvalno preko 700 fusnota. Razlog za ovoliki broj je i mnoštvo imena pisaca, glumaca, filmova i književnih dela kao i aluzija na sve njih. Kabrera Infante je očigledan erudita, ali je isto tako i veliki ljubitelj pop kulture, naročito filmova. Mnoge od fusnota su veoma važne! Ovo može da bude zamorno ali uglavnom nije.

Autor ne poštuje kanone i podsmeva se autoritetima parodirajući velike kubanske književnike. Jedan veliki deo je posvećen opisivanju ubistva Trockog različitim stilovima, kakvim bi, kao, pisali ovi velikani. Osim ovoga ima i mnogo izmotanja druge vrste. Ima svega, čak i jedne strane odštampane onako kako bi prethodna izgledala u ogledalu. Ima i brojeva, igara s brojevima, crteža... Ali ničega od ovoga nema ni trunku više nego što je dovoljno da izgleda zanimljivo i zabavno. I sve je na svom mestu.

Čitajte ovu knjigu! Barem zato što nećete naići na mnogo sličnih drugih knjiga, ako ih uopšte ima. Nije za čistunce i one koji ne vole da eksperimentišu! Tako da, oprezno... Neobičnija je od svega što možete očekivati. Prevodilac veruje da je ovo najbolja knjiga na španskom jeziku posle Servantesa. Moje mišljenje je da prevodilac, u najgorem slučaju, nije mnogo pogrešio. Pošto je najčešće poređenje ove knjige s Uliksom, tek sada je Uliks uskočio u moje glavne prioritete.

[Ahmed · Rating 5 out of 5]

رواية ثلاثة نمور حزينة لغيرمو كابريرا إنفاته ترجمة بسام البزاز من اصدارات دار المدى واحد من اعقد وامتع تجارب القراءة اللي مرت عليا من فترة طويلة، تطبيق حقيقي جدا لنظرية اعتبار الكتابة كلعبة (ودي وجهة نظر المؤلف) ان مهما كانت الكتابة جادة، انك تلعب بالكلمات لتعيد بناء لعب جديد، كأن بتوّلد من النص ألعابه هو، وتشارك كقاريء فيها، ففي النهاية تلاقي نفسك قدام متاهة من الكلمات والكتابة، متاهة ممتعة اكثر مما هي محيرة.

شيء مذهل حقيقي، بكم شخصيات مرسومة بعناية وشفافية، وأحداث أقرب لمشاهد السينما، وتفاصيل مبذول فيها جهد جبار( ودا واضح من هوامش المترجم وتوضيحاته الكثيرة الغير مخلة)، ورغم كل (العشوائية) اللي ممكن تلاحظها، الا انها عشوائية متناسقة، كأن الكاتب يهدم ليبني من جديد، والقاريء معه كدون كيخوتة يحارب طواحين الهواء، ويخلق حكايات هو الآخر مع ما يقرأ. نوعية الروايات اللي تتمنى تكون بتعرف تقرأ أسباني علشان تقرأها فقط.

وفي ظني ان الرواية دي هتجد رواج كبير في مصر، وبنصح بها أي مهتم بالكتابة، لأنها مختلفة، ماكرة، واللعب اللي فيها يفتح أبواب واسعة للتخمينات وأفكار الكتابة.

اللغة ديوان البشر، وملتقى أفكارهم وأحلامهم، تقدر تكون سلاحك ويمكن تكون الآلة اللي بتستعين بها لتواصل حياتك، ولكنها ايضا فخ كبير، وفي كثير من الأحيان بتعلب على اكثر من جبهة، واكثر من معركة، وممكن بردو تكون ونيسك، ومن براعة الرواية دي حُسن استخدامها للغة، كإطار شامل لكل ما يدور ضمنها.

وواضح جدا المجهود الخارق للمترجم القدير: بسام بزاز، واللي له فضل كبير علينا في تقديم الآداب الجميلة والروايات العظيمة، زي الرواية الفذة دي، وسبق وقرأت من ترجمته أعمال بادورا الفاتنة زي: الرجل الذي كان يحب الكلاب، ورواية حياتي، وكلهم من اصدارات المدى، فشكرا من القلب لدار المدى على الاختيارات العظيمة، وشكرا ومحبة للمترجم الجميل بسام البزاز، واللي فعلا حبيته من خلال ترجماته كصديق عزيز.

[MJ Nicholls · Rating 4 out of 5]

A punnilinguistic tour de farce—a hip and swinging hepcat’s tour around the Cuban vernacular and a strenuous intellectual workout for fans of exploding forms. Infante’s fragmented opus leans on the Sterne, Joyce, and Rabelais influence to a mirthmaking extent—bursting with puns and wordplays that deliver the same bursts of bliss as CB-R’s Amalgamemnon (esp. in the ‘Brainteaser’ section). The musical freewheeling ramble of the Beats can be found in the ‘I Heard Her Sing’ sections that form the emotional kernel of an otherwise cerebral exercise in styles, alongside a multitude of parodies and pastiches, notable being an hilarious send-up of Robbe-Grillet somewhere around the ‘Mirrormaze’ area and numerous effects such as the patience-testing ‘Mrs Campbell’s Corrections,’ where Mrs Campbell corrects an anecdote by Mr. Campbell which is then retold and re-corrected, spurious accounts of Trotsky’s death told by spurious writers (if one novel was to influence Bolaño—look no further), and the overlong final part ‘Bachata’ that contains some magnificent comedy and truly Grade-A weirdness. A flawed and essential neutron bomb of delirious postmodern excess.

[Nathan "N.R." Gaddis]

Perhaps you could corroborate this for me ; but it seems to me that when your books start to suck, a very reliable avenue to take is one headed south. Cuba is as far as you need go. Three Trapped Tigers (the Spanish is better :: Tres Tristes Tigres) will get you there. Or, if not heading south, is it a matter of that Dalkey spine? Two birds, one binding. Happiland!

Two kwetch’s. First, What the hell is going on? is a feeling I rather depend upon for my proper enjoyment of a novel. Without those plentiful moments of wtf there’s just no point in going on. That experience was quite severe with that Roche book I read ; that Medusa book by Place (and thus, really, in retrospect it clearly worked better than my Review indicated) ; or especially that Barnes book (I’ll need to revisit that one). But I mean yeah you’ll see but it’s not really the thing in TTT so much ; it’s just a trilogy of pre-revolutionary buddies cruising Havana and dropping in on various nightclubs and the sort of events which accompany such action. Drawing a map of their movements would entirely miss the point. This is Cuba, so there is plenty of movement.

The second kwetch is :: a general request which could be filed under the rubric, Ethics of Aesthetic Judgment. Please; do not allow yourself or another to append the adverbs “merely” or “just” to the phrase “playing with words.” Playing with words is where innocence and vibrancy come alive. Cabrera Infante also plays with words to bring to life the Trio’s dead friend Bustrófedon. Play resurrects our memory of the deceased. This is the true meaning of writing after The Wake.

[Dajana · Rating 5 out of 5]

A sve što čovek može o ovome da kaže verovatno nema smisla, što je Kabrera Infante onako baš lepo uredio. Ovde je glavni junak stilska figura, zapravo, i GKI gradi alternativan jezik nastao spajanjem različitih morfema, jezika, sintagmi, rekonstrukcijom rečenica, intertekstualnošću (700 fusnota!!!) i pravi baš jedan fin paprikaš od reči, ili bi on rekao rečni paprikaš, verovatno. Ovo je stanje svesti kao kad pročita čovek 800 strana u toku dana, sve mu se reči izbrkaju u glavi, počne da ga boli glava i onda sanja neki haos od slova (ovo zna svako ko je spremao kampanjski neki ispit :D) - e, ovo je takvo delo.
Sad je pitanje je li to genijalno ili sumanuto ili kakvo već - meni deluje da je, GKI odlično uradio ono što je rekao za Džojsa - da prostite, iskakio jedno fino književno govno, ali kakvo govno!

'Želim da venčam Prusta sa Isakom Njutnom', kaže na jednom mestu, na istom na kojem tvrdi da čoveku nisu potrebne nikakve madlene umočene u čaj već jedno silno i svesno rovarenje po sebi - ništa mlako, ništa obično i sve posvećeno Havani, Alisi u zemlji čuda, muzici, rečima, brojevima, Mobiju Diku, Bustrofedonu i nizu čudesa na ovih 530 strana.

Baš onako jedan lud čovek s kojim bi bilo divno otići u kafanu :D

[Kuszma · Rating 5 out of 5]

Tres Tristes Tigres.

Gondolom, a fordítóiskolában ilyen címekkel ijesztgetik a tanulókat.

Különben, mondhatni, lazán kezdődik. Mintha csak egy szokványos anekdotikus-játékos kubai novellaciklus lenne abból a korból, amikor Havannában dúl a buli, de a hegyekben már ott settenkedik Fidel. Aztán körvonalazódnak a vissza-visszatérő szálak és szereplők, a nagy dumás Cué, a fülemülehangú bálna, La Estrella és a többiek. Infante pedig egyre bátrabb, egyre kiszámíthatatlanabb, igazi kocsma réme, az a fajta fickó, aki vagy fizeti az összes italt, vagy lelép szó nélkül, és közben ellopja a nádszéket a teraszról, vagy hülyeségeket hord össze egész éjszaka, vagy megfejti a világot neked azon melegében, nem tudni előre. Meglepő, néha egészen zavarba ejtő húzásokkal* operál, de úgy tudja elemeiben szétforgácsolni a szöveget, hogy az lényegét, az atmoszférát tekintve továbbra is egységes marad: egyszerre vad és nosztalgikus, szép és bohókás, igen, gondolom, ilyen lehet Havanna.



Hallottam emlegetni az Ulysses-párhuzamot. Van benne valami. Mert ahogy Joyce is egyfajta egyetemességre törekszik, mint a borostyánba, úgy akarja belezárni egyetlen regénybe Dublin egész létezését, szemmel láthatóan Infante sem adja alább. Ez a könyv a maga kaleidoszkópszerű villódzásával, vérbő lüktetésével le akarja képezni a teljes Havannát, minden meszticével, a Tropicanából kiszűrődő dobszóval, meg az összes már elfogyasztott és még elfogyasztandó daiquirivel és mojitóval együtt. És persze, talán, esetleg, feltéve, de meg nem engedve (stb.) itt is felmerül a „blöff” kérdése. Jelesül: hogy a káosz tudatos, a konstrukció része, sőt, motorja, vagy csak az író képességeinek hiányosságairól árulkodik. Nos, akik a lineáris történetmesélés szerelmesei, és nem szeretik a hektikus ide-oda ugrálást, az elejtett szálakat és az elemi esetlegességet, talán az utóbbi válaszra hajlanak majd. Szívük rajta. Nekem tetszett. Ritka élmény, ahogy pulzál és izzik az ember keze alatt.

* Van az a rész, amikor Trockij meggyilkolását a kubai irodalom nagyjainak stílusában írja meg, hét változatban. No most nyilván a kubai irodalom nagyjait éppúgy nem ismerem, mint ahogy a kubaiak sem ismerik – gondolom – a magyar irodalom nagyjait, de szerintem bőven átjön a poén, ahogy az is, hogy Infante nagyon érti a dolgát.

[Joselito Honestly and Brilliantly · Rating 3 out of 5]

This starts strongly. Somewhere before its halfway mark I kept muttering brilliant brilliant brilliant, chuckling every now and then. But the author, with diverse characters in pre-Castro Havana, seemingly ran out of ideas. This, I suppose, can happen when a one writes fiction not really to tell a story, but only to play. Play with words. And indeed G. Cabrera Infante did a lot of things to words here. Almost every imaginable things one can possibly do to words. And names even: of authors (Aldust Huxley) and books (Confessions of a Cuban Opinion Eater). Puns, allusions, wordplay galore, he wrote words like they're reflected in a mirror, wrote them in the shape of an inverted pyramid, had paragraphs titled the same, wrote shorts stories inside the novel in different versions, combined words to capture an almost fresh meaning ("LOLITTLE girls," "MASTURDEBATE," etc.). Hilarious and brilliant at the first half, but almost boring after that. Like an erection that wasn't sustained for a mutually satisfying finale, or a prolonged tickle that had become painful.

[Makis Dionis · Rating 4 out of 5]

Ο Νίτσε του φτωχού, ο Νίτσε της Κούβας, με Αβανέζικη θλίψη κ όχι αλεγκρία παριζιέν


Ένας καφές στη γωνία 12 κ 23, ξημερώματα, ο αέρας του πρωινού και του Μαλεκον στο πρόσωπο, παλεύοντας με τις αισθήσεις μου και την ταχύτητα...εγώ ο ίδιος κολλημένος προφίλ κ ανφας σ'αυτήν την πρωινή αύρα, το αδειανό στομάχι κ η κούραση να σου θυμίζουν το σώμα, με την ευτυχή διαύγεια της αϋπνίας μπροστά μου κ πίσω μου μια νύχτα, μια νύχτα-γεματη-μουρμουρισματα-και-μουσικη-υποκρουση, είναι τότε λοιπόν που ο καφές, ένας απλός καφές των τριών σενταβο, σκέτος, χωρίς ζάχαρη, που πίνω όταν ο Κοκκαλιαρης, εκείνη η μακρόστενη μοναχική σκιά τελειώνει τη νυχτερινή του βάρδια, έχοντας σκανδαλίσει τους ξενυχτηδες, τους εργάτες που πάνε νωρίς στη δουλειά, τους κουρασμένους νυχτοφύλακες, τις πουτανες τις νοτισμενες από τη δροσιά και το σπέρμα, όλους αυτούς, την πανίδα του νυχτερινού ζωολογικού κήπου που μαζεύεται στις πύλες του νεκροταφείου του Κολόμβου, αυτούς, με τον Τσαϊκόφσκι ή με τον Προκόφιεφ ή με τον Στραβίνσκι... ονόματα που Ο Μακρύς, κοκαλιαρικα, μετά βίας μπορεί να προφέρει, παίζοντάς τους στην 23 κ 12... στο φορητό του πικάπ, παναθλιο κ με γρατζουνισμενη μουσική- αυτό το μισό φλιτζάνι νερό και άρωμα και μαυρίλα μετατρέπεται (μέσα μου) σε μια επείγουσα ανάγκη να πάω να βρω τον Εριμπό των σταρ, τη Ν ή τη Μ ή τη Μ ή τη Ν, στο σπίτι του και να τις ξυπνήσω απ'το όνειρό τους της σκηνικής μεγαλοπρέπειας και ανάμεσα στην αδέξια νυστα τους κ την σκονισμένη ξαγρύπνια μου και τη διογκωμένη κάψα του πρωινού του αιώνιου καλοκαιριού, να κάνουμε έρωτα να κάνουμε έρωτα να κάνουμε έρωτα - ν'αγαπηθούμε, ναγαπη, αγάπη, αγαπητέ μου.

[hayatem · Rating 5 out of 5]

لا أعتقد بأن وصف هذا الكتاب بالرواية وصف دقيق، هو عاصفة من الأفكار ؛ عندما تعجز عن الخروج من رأسك. نوع من الانحلال الفصامي واللحظات الواهية و الزائفة، ولغة أقرب لغمغمة الأطفال في بعض مواضعه و ‫الكتابة تحجب رؤية اللغة.‬

خياله أحياناً يستقي إيحاءه من لسان البديهيات وأبعاد الوعي الخفية في الإنسان، والهشاشة العاطفية، و النظرة الفصيحة. يتداعي فيه الجسد والسمع والبصر حتى المحك ثم ينجو ! و في أحيانٍ كثيرة تبدو غير قادر على فهم شيء من مجرى خياله اللفظي، وأعزو ذلك لكثرة الإثارة الذهنية. وكي لا نجفل، أو نغفل في القراءة، لا يفتأ هذا الكاتب في التذكير وبشكل باطني بين فنية وأخرى: "تنتج المعاناة بسبب أنماط سلوك عقل المرء." أو بالاستسلام للبنى المعقدة!؟ "ليست هنالك من حقائق؛ الأشياء كلها في حالة تدفق، لا تفهم، يصعب تحديدها، وأكثر ما يدوم هو: آراؤنا. " !! "التفسير " هو تقديم المعنى وليس " الشرح" ( فالشرح في معظم الحالات تفسير جديد لتفسير قديم أصبح عسير الفهم، وتحول إلى علامة).

بدا النص في اختلافه، و في لحظات شتى مجرد "سرد استرجاعي لزمن فردي." وفي لحظات سردية أخرى يبدو "كأن الكاتب قسم نفسه في نفوس كثيرة." و سلك الكثير من المنعطفات الخاطئة. مع فرط الإحساس بأنه لا وجوود لشعور نهائي. كذا انحلال الروابط والعلاقات الإنسانية السوية( بما فيها تلك التي بين الراوي / الكاتب وذاته.)

يمكن وصف السرد بأنه انقلاب على النمط الخطي.

فيما يتعلق ب فوضى / تشنجات اللغة في النص وما حملته من مآلات أو وظيفة هذه اللغة في المستوى الرمزي- الدلالي؛ يقول تيموثي كرو وهو طبيب نفسي في جامعة أوكسفورد، على نحو خلاق ومثير للجدل: " إن اللغة والذهان لهما أصل تطوري مشترك وإن الفصام قد يكون الثمن الذي يدفعه الإنسان العاقل للحصول على اللغة." !

نخرج في نهاية القراءة باستحضار عبارة دريدا في (الغراماتولوجيا): لا شيء خارج النص.

القراءة ل غيرمو إنفانته ورطة؛ ورطة حقيقية!

[David · Rating 4 out of 5]

Tres triste tigres. Three sad tigers.

The trick of language.

Trabalenguas are tongue twisters. Tres tristes tigres is a tongue twister. Here is the full saying: “Tres tristes tigres tragaban trigo en un trigal en tres tristes trastos.” (Three sad tigers swallowed wheat in a wheat field in three sad things)

Imagine an entire book that literally twists language? And changes the style of the book numerous times. And most of the book is a conversation, while drinking and listening to music. Am I reading James Joyce’s Ulysses? Nope, the Spanish equivalent written by a Cuban about life in Habana in 1958.

During the 1950’s Habana (using its name) and habaneros (people of Habana) lived a good life. Endless bars, music and wealth thanks to America’s reliance on sugar and their leader, Batista. The very good life. Chasing women, smoking and drinking to the wee hours and talking endless about film and literature. Unlike Ulysses that covers a day in Ireland, Cabrera Infante paints a vivid, if not chaotic life just before it all ends with Castro’s revolution.

In a sense, truly amazing. In a sense, what the hell is going on here? Just as the title suggests, the entire book is a play on being “Cuban”. Not Español but cubano. English intertwines with Spanish (he actually uses the term Spanglish) and makes fun, puns, plays off literally everything. German, French, African and everything in between to create a “persona” of this time.

There is structure. In fact the opening is one of the best openings I have ever read. “It’s show time, ladies and gentlemen, damas y caballeros, from the world famous Tropicana, presents a spectacle....” and the spectacle continues weaving through the streets of Habana. There are maps at the back to follow.

The main characters are the three Tigers, Silvestre the voice of the book, his companions, Arsenio Cué, Eribó plus two others, Riñe and Códac. They follow the secretive (and dead) leader Bustrófedon. His name literally means “how the cow plots” in Greek. In literature you read left to right on one line, then read the next line right to left. Repeat.

Three women, La Estrella, Cuba Venegas and Laura Diaz are the counterpoints to the men. Three types of women that rise through their poor roots. In fact, much of the book focuses on how the rich and poor intertwine, for both good and bad.

And then there are the American tourists, William Campbell and his wife. They see the Tropicana show and then see a sexually charged show. And then there is the story of the walking cane. Social issues here. Tourist misunderstanding; cultural misunderstandings. Fun and not fun.

This was a book that was a challenge to find but I have to admit, once a I started to read, it was hard to stop. Written in 1967 it was released the same year as One Hundred Years of Solitude. This is nothing like the Márquez book but it launched Cabrera Infante to fame as part of the Latinoamericano boom. Sadly the book as been banned in Cuba and Cabrera Infante left because of the Castro politics.

In a nutshell, an amazing work of art. The massive forward and detailed notes of the editors helps put things in place, in context and helps to understand what he was getting at. He never called this a novel but a book. It is a reflection of a small group of people in a pivotal time in a country’s history. Like Ulysses, it falls under the same category and as a result, a similar fame. Some will love it; many will hate it but needs to be read.

I don’t know how, but I loved it. The language was mesmerizing. Fun. Hypnotic. Scary. Weird. Lovable. Strange. It is all about the language.

Not sure a full five, probably a 4.5 but I might change my mind. The opening was a 6.

[Shovelmonkey1 · Rating 2 out of 5]

Technically I've just committed an act of fraud by pressing the "I'm finished" button in order to write this review. I didn't actually finish this book. Didn't even come remotely close. Really I shouldn't be awarding a rating to this either. Essentially I'm awarding a rating to Guillermo Cabrera Infantes book which is entirely based on my own personal inability to engage with and absorb the writing therein.

But what the hell. I did try with this one but I really couldn't get on board with the writing style and by the time I was over 50 pages in and still had no real idea what was happening, where the story was headed and what any central themes might be, my brain had already gone and got distracted by other shiny things on my bookshelf. Mmm shiny. Like I said in my Neuromancer review, I do like a nice bit of shiny. So what did I get from this book? Jazzy lingo, latin american flavours, a smattering of foreign wordlets and an extra confused face scrunching wrinkle from the non linear and jagged prose.

Maybe I'll revisit this one day. But, as I can't really afford to get any more wrinkles, maybe not.

[Teresa · Rating 1 out of 5]

uão dǝɹɔǝqı uɐpɐ

[Cody · Rating 5 out of 5]

(Lightning Review)

The literary equivalent of the first 100-or-so releases on Impulse. Don't worry about GGM, Cortazar, Infante. Think Coltrane, Mingus, and, especially, Acid by Ray Barreto, and The Latin Jazz Quartet with Eric Dolphy.

Lightning review rating: an evening of fun in the metropolis of your dream (thanks, Wire).

[Jonathan · Rating 3 out of 5]

So reading this was almost a little experiment in how one's mental state affects one's experience of reading a novel. I am currently in the midst of the joyful fun and games which are withdrawal symptoms from trying to come off the antidepressants I have been on for many many years. What I can't tell is whether this book did not really work for me (i found it seemed to be trying to show off, often in a rather spiteful way (those piss takes of other authors felt a little off somehow, a little unpleasant) and all the endless sex and tits and women as objects got pretty boring) because of that or because of some inherent vice.

Who knows though. Maybe it is not the book, just the fact that my brain is dealing with too much other crap .

The typographic stuff was fun though, and the translation of all that punning and wordplay was just awe inspiring. I have his inferno on my shelf and will certainly give that a go at some point...

[Mala · Rating 4 out of 5]

he himself was the master/designer of literary obstacles and he proposed then a literature in which the words would mean exactly what the whim of the author decided. (276)

betrayal is the name of the game in TTT: betrayal of life through language and literature. The ultimate betrayal is in translation, of literature and of language, of life. So why not betray the reader’s expectations as well?
—The Paris Review Interview

Just so we are clear, this book is not about any circus/zoo/exotic animals. The wild thing here is the language which howls & hounds you through its pages without any letup. Infante goes on 'semantic safaris' & unsurprisingly the title forms part of a Spanish tongue-twister, Tres Tristes Tigres, the 'sad' part of the original changed to 'trapped' in the English translation, but in contextual sense; both work equally well.
The title brings your attention to the most striking quality of this book— its exuberant language & sense of play. If there is a list of word-drunk novels then, along with FW, DC, & the Larva book, TTT would definitely make the cut. There's a paragraph on dictionary here (217) that would make A. Theroux happy!

Going in, I was a little cynical of Infante's Cuban Joyce honorific — I've met so many versions of Joyce by now!!! but going by this book, he truly deserves that — the highly allusive nature of the text, the endless punning & wordplay, the exploration of a city ( rather a specific street called La Rampa which never sleeps) via the lives of multiple characters, all evoke that comparison. The standout chapter in this regard is 'Brainteaser' which will either wow or wither the readers.
I picked up many neologisms here though I wonder where I would get to use words like 'f***iancee', 'islienation', 'deadfinitely', 'metapissical', 'advertenticing', 'Satiaggrahassives' (a combination of Gandhian Satyagraha+ aggressive), & hold your breath - 'MACNEPOXVLTURETEORUINITES', etc.
Hell one could write an entire review using only the neologisms and puns here!

Figuratively, the three trapped tigers (more like a strutting peacock, a loyal dog, & a mopish owl...) are Arsenio the actor, Códac the photographer, and Silvestre the writer respectively, in Batista's pre-revolutionary Havana, sauntering from one nightclub to another in a haze of drinks & music. Life is a disaster area. (424), one endless party here — three tips of metaphysical Horse Feathers marilynaded with inedible dungus. (409)

The blurb describes it as a Marx Brothers comedy & the slapstick element here justifies that but to me it seems more of Paul Thomas Anderson ( remember those frogs falling from the sky in Magnolia?!) in terms of wtf moments & a sense of hidden menace. Farce becomes force here.
There is a structure, sure, the closing chapters echoing/mirroring the opening chapters in exactly the same sequence, which really helps in understanding this fragmented narrative told in multiple voices. And sometimes it's hard to know who is narrating a particular segment. I confused Eribo with Códac once as both were fans of La Estrella.
There is thematic unity and if you are able to join the dots, the textual madness makes sense. Music & movies are the motifs acting as signposts but ultimately this book is all about words & by the final segment 'Bachata', Infante drops all pretense to a plot as almost all the male protagonists start talking like Bustrófedon!!!
So if your name is not NR, you might feel trapped at times... Something like this:
We tried grinding them in our fun machine. For them, it was quite clear, the result was more pus than fun or more fuss than pun. But we went on with joking and choking, washing our dirty jokes in public. What the hell for? Maybe because Arsenio and I were getting high on it. (…) it just made us happy, this facility, the facile facility, this phalluscity with which we'd carried them off." (407)
In other words; not for everyone.

Highlights:

Brainteaser: In a way the crux of the biscuit. Infante's irony in locating the cause of Bustrófedon's linguistic wizardry to a brain lesion which makes him use language in an outré way is perhaps the way the world perceives experimental writing... Check out the relevant section on page 225.

The Death of Trotsky as Described by Various Cuban Writers, Several Years After the Event —or Before: the assassination of Trotsky is replayed here in the style of various writers — crazy as crazy can be! I think Sorrentino would've loved that in particular. Knowing Infante's feelings towards his "Latin American contemporaries", I'm not at all surprised by the drubbing they receive here!

Some Revelations: I loved this chapter because it began with four blank pages which I really needed, particularly after the tortuous Trotsky parody in Alejo Carpentier's detail- obsessive style.

Confessions of a Cuban Opinion Eater: Arsenio Cué's hilarious/refreshing/weird takes on various things in life.

Samples: Cantata to tea, Coffee concerto, Maté motet: "Coffee is a sexual stimulant. Tea is intellectual. (yay!) Maté is the bitter primitive residue of a hungover dawn in New York circa 1955. (…) you can't grow a culture on maté.

The Time Killer: The Duchess of Malfi pardoned her executioners because they did no more than catarrh would have done. Why so much hatred for Hitler, then? The majority of the people whom he killed would be dead now anyway. A campaign should be launched in the UN, and everywhere else as well, to declare Time a genocide."

Popuhilarity: Someone once said that the popularity of the word metaphysics is due to the fact that it can mean whatever you like.

Pascalm: & People mistake what are only the Virtues for their virtues."

I read the pb 1985 edition by Avon Books which shows a figure dressed in white (Arsenio Cué) in a convertible & the city with its nightclubs spread out below/before him/it. Makes sense as a lot of the narrative takes place in Cué's car but I couldn't find that in the GR database here, at least not with that cover. I've no idea what's happening on the Dalkey cover!
****************
Worth checking out:
Links:
"Any literary work that aspires to the condition of art must forget politics, religion, and, ultimately, morals."
Infante minces no words — I like this guy!
http://www.theparisreview.org/intervi...

And this too (with the correction that Mr & Mrs Campbell were not related to the soup ones -- the Emcee had made a mistake there).
http://www.npr.org/2012/06/25/1516821...

[Hux · Rating 2 out of 5]

I searched for this book for a long time and could never find a copy eventually having no choice but to accept a second hand copy that had crisp, yellow pages (perhaps after decades of being in a bedsit where a man (let's call him Leroy) smoked forty roll-ups a day). In a strange way, the sickly mustard hue almost suited the book and made me think of sun drenched beaches and cigarette filled bars.

I so wanted the book to be something glorious but, alas, it was nothing more than another febrile mess of Joycean mimicry not even attempting to masquerade as anything else. Infante can write but (like so many of his contemporaries) he made a choice of style over substance, to squander his talent by dismissing the opportunity to create a great work that would appeal to the world in perpetuity, instead focusing on ensuring that he would appeal to seven esoteric hipsters with names like Zac and Blane in a Seattle coffee shop who, on reflection, would eventually grow tired of their own performative claims of loving him anyway. The book is vague, incoherent, meandering, and unforgivably dull.

I am reliably informed that the book is about three young people in Havana. But honestly, if you told me it was about ten people or just one, I wouldn't be able to categorically confirm or deny the assertion. I had no idea what was happening, who was speaking, what people looked like, where things were taking place, or how any of it connected. Some parts were easy to read but I still had no context for what was going on or why it should matter to me. I couldn't even tell you the name of one of the narrators (I think one of them might have been a photographer called Codac) but I lost interest by then because amid the skittish chopping and changing, we also have some stream-of-consciousness prose (because obviously) that adds very little and only further muddies the waters. I think there was one solitary page where I found a beautiful sentence (describing the nightclub singer) and Cabrera does a decent job of generating a sense of heat and tropical sweat on various sunburned bodies, but that aside, I simply found the writing to be immensely dull and repetitive. That damn James Joyce has a lot to answer for.

There may be others out there who will like this so I would still recommend it but I found it extremely difficult to engage with. What makes it so frustrating (again) is the fact that Cabrera can clearly write but chose to do this instead. It's all just so tiresome. For all the inventive stuff thrown in (a mirrored page of backward writing, an upside down pyramid of writing, a few lists (because these kinds of books must always have lists) and several disjointed chapters that break things up for brevity), Cabrera never really considers the possibility that entertaining me me might also be an inventive thing to do.

Sigh.

[Burak · Rating 4 out of 5]

Kapanda Üç Kaplan baştan sona bir edebiyat oyunu. Infante bizi Havana gecelerinde bir sürü karakterin, hikayenin yer aldığı, başı ve sonu belli olmayan bir yolculuğa çıkarıyor. Ancak bu yolculuk boyunca anlatıcı değişiyor, anlatım şekli değişiyor. Boş sayfalar, siyah sayfalar, ters yüz edilmiş sayfalar, gittikçe küçülen paragraflar ve kelime oyunları, çok ama çok fazla kelime oyunu var.

Kitapta birbiriyle arkadaş beş ana anlatıcı karakterimiz var: Fotoğrafçı Codac, oyuncu Arsenio Cue, sinemacı Silvestre, müzisyen Eribo ve hepsinin üstünde yer alan, kendi bölümünü anlatıcısı olmakla kalmayıp bütün bu karakterlerin anlatımına da sirayet etmiş Bustrofedon. Bunlar dışında bir bölümde Mr. Campbell ve eşinin Havana yolculuğunda başlarından geçenleri ikisinin farklı bakış açılarıyla okurken bir bölümde ise Troçki'nin ölümünden önce ve sonra Kübalı yazarların olay hakkında yazdıklarını okuyoruz.

İtiraf etmek gerekirse kitaptaki bu durmadan şekil değiştiren anlatım ve bitmek bilmeyen kelime oyunları epey yorucu olabiliyor. Öyle ki bazı bölümlerde anlatıcının kim olduğundan dahi emin olamadım. Ama kitabın hoşuma giden taraflarından biri de bu oldu, anlatım o kadar canlı ve ilgi çekici ki anlatılan şeylerin basitliği önemini kaybediyor. Infante kitabın kimi bölümlerinin sesli olarak okunması için yazıldığını, romanın amacının havada akıp giden insan sesini yakalamak olduğunu söylemiş. Kendi adıma başarılı olduğunu söyleyebilirim.

Bir de kitapta muhtemelen çoğunu anlamadığım sayısız gönderme var. Yazarlara, eserlere, şarkılara, filmlere... Birçok farklı dilde yazılmış cümleler var. Infante'nin kültürel birikimi ağzımı açık bıraktı.

Yazar kitaptaki kelime oyunlarının bir başka dile aynı şekilde aktarılmayacağını bildiği için yazar iki çevirmenle beraber çalışıp kitabı İngilizcede neredeyse baştan oluşturmuş. Seniha Akar aynı işi Türkçe için yapmış. Gördüğüm en büyük çevirilerden biri Kapanda Üç Kaplan. Seniha Akar'ın bu kitap için harcadığı emeği tahmin bile edemiyorum.

Küba edebiyatının en büyük eseri kabul edilen, Ulysses ile karşılaştırılan bir kitabın ülkemizde yaklaşık 30 yıl içinde yalnızca iki baskı görmüş olması ve bu iki baskının da yıllarca bitirilememiş olması Türk okuru için utanç verici bir durum. Biraz da tuhaf çünkü ülkemizde iki tane yetkin ve iyi satan Ulysses çevirisi var, aynı işi Türkçede yaptığını söyleyebileceğimiz Oğuz Atay'ın Tutunamayanlar'ı senelerdir yok satıyor. Latin Amerika edebiyatına da uzak değiliz aslında. Böyle büyük bir eser ve özellikle böyle şahane bir çeviri umarım güzel bir baskıyla yeniden okurlarla buluşur ve hak ettiği ilgiyi görür.

[Megha · Rating 4 out of 5]

"When I had finished listening to Silvestre, without saying anything, before hanging up, hanging up the suddenly black terrorphone, in morning that mourning, I said to myself, Fuck and shit, the whole world dies! Meaning the happy and the sad, geniuses and morons, the open and the inhibited and the cheerful and the gloomy and the ugly and the beautiful and damned and the bearded and the shaven and those with five o'clock shadows and the tall and the short and the vicious and the innocent and the strong and the weak and the meek inheritors and the immortal and all the bald people too: everybody and even people like Bustrófedon who could make out of a couple of words and four letters a hymn and a joke and a song, these people, they also die and their memory dies too and even their songs dies too, a little bit later perhaps but they die and ideas also die, so I said, Fuck! And nothing more - and right after that I said shit."

[Bezimena knjizevna zadruga · Rating 5 out of 5]

Bespotrebno je, besmisleno i beskonačno glupo pokušati prepričavati ovu knjigu, pa i analizirati je i pisati o njoj. Kuba pre revolucije. Jezičke bravure. Igrokazi. Razbacana poglavlja. Desetine naratora. Odsustvo vidljivog smisla. Preseravanje. Parodija. Film. Fusnote. Zagonetke. Kakofonija glasova. Punokrvan i veličanstven antiroman. Zavrteće vam misli brže od spinera i mrzećete ga u svoj svojoj ljubavi. Kupiti, staviti na čelo police i čitati hiljadama puta bez želje da se išta shvati. Ijednom. Ludilo od knjige. Utisci dok citanje jos traje.

[Gülüzar - Ertl · Rating 5 out of 5]

Tam bir şenlik 🎈🎈

[Lacolz · Rating 5 out of 5]

Un juego. Un Juego. De palabras, en la estructura, de sonidos, con los personajes, con las palabras, con el Tiempo, con los números, con los tiempos, con la historia, en la narrativa, con la Historia. En todo. Con todo juega. ¡Prólogo, epílogo y todo lo que hay en medio de esos dos puntos! Desde la nota advertiva y pre-prologuera, ya está jugando, nos está plantando las reglas del juego. Y como buen juego, uno se divierte durante el trayecto.

De esos libros que obligan revisar capítulos anteriores, verificar personajes, hacer apuntes y en más de una vez, ¡muchas de las veces!, obliga a ir por un marcador o lápiz para subrayar diálogos, frases, máximas, mínimas, páginas completas del juego llamado Tres tristes tigres.

Yo no entiendo, espero llegar a entenderlo en algún momento, cómo puede ser posible que por diez rayuelistas haya un trestristestigrista. Ah, ya: ¿la mercadotecnia? En lo personal, he disfrutado ambas obras como loquito. Pero la de Cabrera, carajo, es, ¡y por mucho!, más latina, más nuestra, más nuestro entorno; no obstante, que es toda cubana: en Cuba, con cubanos, en cubano. Un esnobismo, por mucho, con mayor sabor a Latinoamérica. Sin necesidad de ir a Paris, por ejemplo.

Juega, se ríe, nos hace reír. ¿Cuántos libros serios hay que nos hacen reír? Estos son los que abrazo con mayor fervor en mi memoria, en mi librero, conmigo. Así pues, acá, con éste.

[Miroslav Maričić · Rating 4 out of 5]

„Još neko vreme smo gledali oluju koja je pretvarala nebo i more u jednu mioramsku verziju kabineta doktora Frankeštajna.“

Infante je kubanski autor, a njegovo najpoznatije delo TTT svrstava se u takozvanu eksperimentalnu prozu i stavlja u istu rečenicu sa, između ostalih, knjigom Školice. Kortasar je u tekstu Školica naveo da knjigu treba čitati redom kojim čitalac poželi, da tu neće biti nikakve greške i da že neki drugačiji redosled samo darivati kvalitet knjizi. Infante nije darivao takvu ideju, ali nakon njegovih tigrova usudiću se da napišem da redosled poglavlja ovoj knjizi ni malo ne utiče na kvalitet, odnosno može samo podići intenzitet zabave. Infante je osoba koja je u vreme kubanskog potopa iz središta zabave u središte zatvorenosti bio aktivni učesnik. Zabranjivan od Batistinog režima, aktivni učesnik promena prilikom dolaska Kastra, pa čak i ataše u Briselu, ubrzo postaje osoba koja biva strani plaćenik, sumnivo lice i osoba koja nakon istrage pakuje svoju porodicu i zauvek napušta voljenu Kubu. I ukoliko neko ne želi političke jadikovke o kubanskom pitanju, nemojte ustuknuti, jer ova knjiga odiše mambom, svetlima karnevalskih barova Havane, predivnim vitkim nogama tamnoputih lepotica, pesmom, ali i zabludama mladosti, snovima opijenih glava i neizmerno zabavnim i inteligentnim građenjem priča premeštanjem slova u reči, sklapanjem novih reči od više reči, premeštanjem reči u rečenici i stvaranjem teksta na osnovu svega dve do tri reči. Neobično i zabavno, uz veliku i obilatu pomoć prevodioca sa svojim brojnim napomenama i ukazivanjem na brojne meni nepoznate izvođače, umetnike, savremenike i umetnička dela u svim umetnostima. Delo predstavlja pravi izazov za prevođenje, počev od različitih dijalekata, brojnih izmišćljenih i šatrovačkih reči, rečenica i kompletnih delova teksta, pa sve do potrebe da se naše domaće izreke, poslovice i dosetke nakaleme na originalni tekst kako bi on imao smisla za naše tržište i kako bi uopšte mogao da bude zabavan. Navodi se da je najveći uspeh autora ovog dela veran prikaz narodnih govora, poebno havanskog jezika, tako da je čitanje u originalu verovatno nezamenljivo, a ujedno i neprocenjivo.

„Noć je stvorena da se šeta Havanom.“

Silvestre, autorov alter ego, Arsenio Kue, zabavni i imaginativni Bustrofedon, kao i nekoliko ženskih likova poput debele Estrelje, siromašne i u svojim željama neumerene Kube Venegas, uz obilje sporednih likova vode čitaoca na putovanje Havanom, kroz noćni život, sa pričama prepunim aluzija i noćnim neumerenim pričama mladosti pod dejstvom opijata, alkohola, muzike, kabarea, pod svetlima velegrada prepunog želja i nadanja i ludiranjima svojstvenim verovatno jedino u trenucima na prelasku iz zvezdanog detinjstva u neslućenu odraslost.
Između zabavnih dešavanja likova, između pevanja debele Estrelje, umetnuto je i jedanaest kratkih priča koje dariva neodređeno koji ženski lik na terapiji kod psihijatra. Tu je i niz tekstova kubanskih autora kao komentar na smrt Trockog i reakciju na njegovu smrt na Kubi. Ovaj tekst naprosto odiše svežinom, prezabavan je, daruje dosta nekih novih autora, književnih dela, muzike i svetlosti kojom je, prema rečima autora, Havana nekada bila obasjana. Poslednji deo knjige predstavlja jedan veliki razgovor Silvestrea i Kuea, u okviru jednog ludog izlaska, kao retrospektiva na čitavu prošlost, na prijateljstva, ljubavi, neumerena pijanstva, kao potsećanje na inteligentnog Bustrofedona sa njegovim domišljatim dosetkama, na prikaze slučajnih susreta u toj noći, nove i stare ljubavi, ali i na konačan rastanak, verovatno samog autora od svega što je u mladosti u Havani bilo nevino, sveže i očima odraslog čoveka lepo.

„Majstor Niče kaže da o zaista važnim stvarima može da se priča samo cinično ili detinjim jezikom, a ja ti baš nisam vičan tom balavljenju.“

„Pakao može biti popločan dobrim namerama, ali sve drugo u njemu (topografija, arhitektura, dekor) delo je loših namera.“

„Sve je odlaganje. Život predlaže, Gospod odlučuje, a čovek odlaže.“

„U tišini sam zatvorio kapke i otišao u tišini u svoju sobu i skinuo se go u tišini i otovrio prozor kroz koji je ušla tišina poslednje noći u tišini što je zovu gluvo doba, ta tiha reč, i čuo sam u tišini kako kaplje tiho voda sa gornjeg balkona u tišini i u tišini sam popušio lulu vaseljenskog mira i video kao Bah kako u tišini izlazi mrtav dim u spiritualnoj tišini u nešto više od ničega u dim tišine kroz tiho osvetljenu rupu mog prozora u koju sam gledao gledao gledao dok se nije zaokružila i iščezla, sve u tišini i gledao sam tamo na drugu stranu, u veliku mračnu preriju nebesa i još dalje i još dalje od daljeg i još dalje gde je tamo ovde i svugde i nigde ili jedno mesto bez mesta bez gore ni dole ni istoka ni zapada.“

„Kada sam saslušao Silvestra, ne rekavši ništa, pre nego što sam prekinuo vezu i okačio slušalicu, okačio najednom užasno crnu slušalicu telefona, rekao sam sebi. Jebi ga svi umiru, želeći da kažem kako i srećni i tužni i genijalci i moroni, i otvoreni i u sebe povučeni, i veseli i tužni, i ružni i lepi i ćosavi i rutavi i visoki i niski i kvarni i nedužni i jaki i slabi, i moćni i kilavi, ah da, i ćelavi: svi, pa čak i oni kao Bustrofedon koji je umeo da od dve reči i četiri slova speva himnu i napravi vic i čitavu pesmu, i oni takođe umiru, pa sam sebi rekao- Baš Sranje!“

[Juci · Rating 4 out of 5]

Kár, hogy nem tudok spanyolul, pláne kubaiul (mármint kulturálisan). Monumentális munkát végzett Kutasy Mercédesz, valahol mégis azt érzem, kár volt ezt a könyvet lefordítani magyarra, mert így se értjük (hisz nem ismerjük) a jó részét annak, amiről szól. Biztos vagyok benne, hogy minimum az utalások fele észrevétlenül ment el a fejem fölött. Az utolsó 150 oldal pedig komolyan próbára tett, olyan igazi intellektuális faszverés volt, amilyet csak a latin-amerikai entellektüelek tudnak :)

[amapola · Rating 5 out of 5]

“…c’era la parola sbagliata e la parola innocente e la parola colpevole e la parola-assassina e la parola-poliziotto e la parola-salvatrice e la parola fine”.

Leggere questo libro è un'esperienza straniante. Meriterebbe un commento decente, ma dovrete accontentarvi di questo.
Cabrera Infante ambienta il romanzo nell’Avana di Batista, poco prima della rivoluzione di Castro; la trama è esile, solo un pretesto per farci conoscere una sequela di strani personaggi e insieme a loro sperimentare linguaggi diversi, in un gioco infinito di rimandi.
L’inizio è ostico (la tentazione di scaraventare il libro dalla finestra era sempre in agguato). Poi il fascino della prosa ha preso il sopravvento e così il coinvolgimento è stato totale.
Sorprendente anche la grafica, con pezzi di testo scritti a piramide rovesciata, in cerchi, o parole che si elevano da sole, ecc..
Un libro che si legge, si guarda e si ascolta come una poesia lunga 451 pagine.

“Chi era Bustrófedon? Chi fu chi è chi sarà Bustrófedon? B? Pensare a lui è come pensare alla gallina dalle uova d’oro, a un indovinello senza risposta, alla spirale. Lui era Bustrófedon per tutti e tutto per Bustrófedon era lui. Non so proprio da dove diavolo aveva preso questa parolina – o parolona. L'unica cosa che so è che io mi chiamavo spesso Bustrófoton o Bustrófotomatòn o Busnéforoniepce, a seconda dei casi, e Silvestre era Bustróphoenix o Bustróphoelix o Bustroarabia Bustrófelix o Bustrolawrence o Bustronizan, e Florentino Cazalis fu Bustrófloren molto tempo prima che cambiasse il suo nome e si mettesse a scrivere nei giornali col suo nuovo nome di Floren Cassalis, e una sua fidanzata si chiamò sempre Bustrofedora e sua madre era Bustrofelisa e suo padre Bustrófader, e non sono nemmeno in grado di dire se la sua fidanzata si chiamava veramente Fedora o sua madre Felisa, e se aveva un altro nome oltre a quello che si era dato. Immagino che abbia estratto questa bustroparola da un dizionario, allo stesso modo in cui dal nome di un medicinale aveva ricavato quello del continente di Mutaflora, che era la bustroflora dei bustrófali.
Ricordo che un giorno andammo a mangiare insieme, lui, Bustrofedonte (che era il nome di quella settimana per Rine, che lui chiamava non soltanto il più leale amico dell'uomo, ma anche Rineceronte, Rinedocente, Rinedecente, Rineccedente, come poi ci fu un Rinescente seguito dal Rinescimento, Rinecimento, Rinecemento, Rinefermento, Rinefervente, Rineffervescente, Rineferonte, Ronoferante, Bonoserviente, Buonofarniente, Busnofedante, Bustopedante, Bustofetente, Bustoferoce, Bustonefando, Bustoformoso, Bustofedonte: varianti che indicavano le bustrovariazioni dell'amicizia: parole che erano un bustrotermometro), e io, e quando si presentarono entrambi a cercarmi al giornale, mi disse, Andiamo in una bustrotaverna, poiché detestava i ristoranti di lusso e i lampadari a gocce e i fiori di carta, ed eravamo appena arrivati e non si era ancora seduto quando chiamò il cameriere. Bustrogiovanotto, gli disse…”

Lettura solo per audaci.

[Peter · Rating 1 out of 5]

Tedious, drab, lifeless, insipid, vapid, tiresome, morose,exhausting, laborious, arduous, lacklustre, humourless and just plain boring.

The first line may give you a rough idea as to how much I enjoyed this book but let me tell you that I feel rather guilty about listing this book and review on this site because for me it was anything but a "goodread". In fact if I could have given it a minus score I probably would have, it gets 1 simply because it is finally over and done with.

The story such as it is, is little more than a group of friends recalling anecdotes about their late night jaunts around a Havana's pre-Castro nightclubs. OK I get that it is full of puns, allusions and clever word-games but it was just dull, dull,dull.

Why oh why did I not listen to that little voice that on page 10,20,50,75,100,130,200,343 said just give in because come the end of the book I was no wiser than when I first started just a lot greyer.