Beyefendiler

O Bairro #1-2, 4-7

by Gonçalo M. Tavares, İpek Gürsoy Kutluyüksel (Translator)

Kendine özgü mantığıyla Bay Valéry, ansiklopedi tutkusuyla Bay Henri, kara bir mizahla başarıyı ele alan Bay Brecht, özgün düşünme biçimiyle Bay Juarroz, yürüyüşe çıkmış matrak Bay Calvino ve ormandaki sadece kendisine ait kulübesinde Bay Walser... Gonçalo M. Tavares'in kaleminden dökülen entelektüel ve şiirsel harikalara Rachel Caiano'nun neşeli desenleri eşlik ediyor. Yazının beyefendilerinin mahallesi okurunu bekliyor.

"Gonçalo M. Tavares, hayalgücüne dayalı kurmacanın geçerli bağlarıyla ilişkisini kopararak ve benzersiz bir hayalgücüyle donanmış olarak Portekiz'in edebiyat sahnesine daldı. Tavares büyük bir ustalıkla çok özel bir dil kullanıyor, ve bu özel dili öyle bir uyguluyor ki onun artık bir kriter olduğunu söylemek -şimdilerde yeteneklerinin tadını çıkardığımız genç romancıları kesinlikle küçümsemiyorum- abartı sayılmaz; artık kurmaca yazında Gonçalo öncesi ve Gonçalo sonrasından söz ediliyor. Sanırım ona sunabileceğim en büyük övgü bu. Bence otuz yıl sonra, hatta belki daha da önce Nobel Ödülü'nü alacaktır, bu bir kehanet ama sanırım doğru çıkacak. Ancak ödülü aldığında onu kucaklamak için buralarda olamayacağıma üzülüyorum."
-José Saramago, Defterler-

"Gonçalo M. Tavares harika, portatif bir mahalle yaratmış. Bay Brecht ve arkadaşlarının yaşadığı, yiyip içtiği mahalle, şaşırtıcı özgünlükte bir yapıt."
-Enrique Vila Matas, El Pais-

Not: Beyefendiler Gonçalo M. Tavares'in 10 kitaplık Mahalle (O Bairro) serisinin 6 kitabının bir arada yayınlanmış versiyonudur.

Genres: Short Stories, Literature, Fiction, Portugal, Portuguese Literature, Literary Fiction

272 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 2007

About the author

Gonçalo M. Tavares was born in Luanda in 1970 and teaches Theory of Science in Lisbon.
Tavares has surprised his readers with the variety of books he has published since 2001. His work is being published in over 30 countries and it has been awarded an impressive amount of national and international literary prizes in a very short time. In 2005 he won the José Saramago Prize for young writers under 35. Jerusalém was also awarded the Prêmio Portugal Telecom de Literatura em Língua Portuguesa 2007 and the LER/Millenium Prize. His novel Aprender a rezar na Era de Técnica has received the prestigious Prize of the Best Foreign Book 2010 in France. This award has so far been given to authors like Salmon Rushdie, Elias Canetti, Robert Musil, Orhan Pamuk, John Updike, Philip Roth, Gabriel García Márquez and Colm Tóibín. Aprender a rezar na Era da Técnica was also shortlisted for the renowned French literary awards Femina Étranger Prize and Médicis Prize and won the Special Price of the Jury of the Grand Prix Littéraire du Web Cultura 2010. In 2011, Tavares received the renowned Grande Prêmio da Associação Portuguesa de Escritores, as well as the prestigious Prémio Literário Fernando Namora 2011. The author was also nominated for the renowned Dutch Europese Literatuurprijs 2013 and was on the Longlist of the Best Translated Book Award Fiction 2013.

Gonçalo M. Tavares nasceu em 1970. Os seus livros deram origem, em diferentes países, a peças de teatro, peças radiofónicas, curtas-metragens e objectos de artes plásticas, vídeos de arte, ópera, performances, projectos de arquitectura, teses académicas, etc.
Estão em curso cerca de 160 traduções distribuídas por trinta e dois países. Jerusalém foi o romance mais escolhido pelos críticos do Público para «Livro da Década».
Em Portugal recebeu vários prémios, entre os quais, o Prémio José Saramago (2005) e o Prémio LER/Millennium BCP (2004), com o romance Jerusalém (Caminho); o Grande Prémio de Conto da Associação Portuguesa de Escritores «Camilo Castelo Branco» (2007) com Água, Cão, Cavalo, Cabeça (Caminho). Recebeu, ainda, diversos prémios internacionais.

Reviews

[Vit Babenco · Rating 4 out of 5]

Phobias and misconceptions, ideals and hopes, habits and displeasures – Gonçalo M. Tavares creates his own breed of absurdist comedy and he populates The Neighborhood with all sorts of oddballs who enjoy the most preposterous ways of living.
The world isn’t an ideal place and there are many methods to improve it:

“If all things were cubes, there would be fewer arguments. And there wouldn’t be any doubts.”

There are plenty of idealists and dreamers in the neighborhood so their heads are the best homes for butterflies…

Calvino felt the colors approach his ear and smiled, he continued to smile while the butterfly entered through his ear, step by step, wing by wing, and went inside his head. Now it was inside and was flapping around his head, its small wings opened and closed delicately and Calvino felt from that moment onward he didn’t have to think of anything else, as though the world was, finally, all thought out and resolved, without the need for any human abnegation. Calvino felt happy.

And it turns out that lying is a very useful practice…

It was possible to spend an entire day telling lies, but it was impossible to spend it telling the truth. All personal and social relationships, and relations between nations, would collapse.

And the homegrown wisdom generously irrigated with absinthe is the greatest sort of sagacity…

“Below the Earth’s surface there are movements of energy that are symmetrical to the movements that can be seen within an anthill. And earthquakes happen precisely due to a vast quantity of these movements. I read the encyclopedia every day in order to glean these indispensable bits of information,” said Mister Henri.

The world consists of those who wield power and of those who are wielded. Bosses are few and far between and their Assistants are many…

The Boss detested geography, economics, literature, chemistry, sociology, engineering, mathematics, physics, and all the sciences invented after Christ. What he appreciated was instinct.

Our world is a home we build so the less preposterous it becomes the better.

[brian · Rating 2 out of 5]

last month i went to see holy motors at the silent movie theater and from minute one was fucking tormented by a group of what i call 'highbrow laughers'… i wanted to do to those goddamn cineroaches what the denis lavant troll did to eva mendes. 'highbrow laughers' are the morons who laugh very very loud at things that don't really deserve what y'all kids would refer to as LOLs. they do it to signify that they 'get it', that they're highbrow enough to decode what washes over the rest of the rabble. and what lies beyond the laugh varies: it might be that they get the kitsch value or they recognize how quaint it was back in the old days or to signify that they alone know that the auteur intends this as funny rather than with the arch seriousness the less knowledgable folks regard stuff in a foreign language. regardless of the reason, i fucking hate 'em. just sit the fuck back and watch the goddamned movie & approach it sincerely you ironic fucktard -- if you're really so fucking highbrow you don't have to let us know you're 'in on it'. harumph!

(and the rant continues:) there's something about this kinda whimsical crap (i'm talking about the neighborhood now) which rubs me the wrong way. tavares is a newish literary guy with all the credentials and potential to cockslap the contemporary literary world the way sebald, bernhard, or bolano has in recent years… except i don't see it. (yet. not yet.) jerusalem was interesting and showed serious potential, if also a deep, desperate yearning to come off as literary -- it almost seemed to fit a criteria of what is literary. the neighborhood just (surprise) annoyed the shit outta me. whimsy is fine but it's gotta be clever. this isn't. and it's too long. but, i kinda feel it gets pounded with 5 stars for those to prove they're in on the joke, the GR reviewer equivalent of the highbrow laugher.

but, of my friend's list, eddie watkins and jeremy, two chaps i respect, give it 4 and 5 stars, respectively. i certainly don't accuse 'em of faking it to appear literary. so what does that mean? that i'd like to choke out the masses but can't go face to face with the individual? that i'm the personified inverse of dostoevsky's maxim about finding it easy to love man but difficult to love men? eh… i turn 39 yrs old today and i'm kind of enjoying growing into a curmudgeonly fuckface. so, i'm not gonna think too hard on this one and i'm gonna end with a nice solid and irrational: Fuck. Off.

[Tsvetelina Mareva · Rating 5 out of 5]

„Кварталът“ представлява изключително оригинален литературен и езиков експеримент, в който чрез поредица кратки разкази, фрагменти и миниатюри – някои звучащи анекдотично и афористично, Тавареш ни запознава с ексцентричните обитатели господата Валери, Мишо, Брехт, Хуарос, Краус, Калвино, Валзер, Бретон, Сведенборг и Елиът. Всички те са чудаци, сладкодумни бърборковци, които обичат да се разхождат, да съзерцават и задават въпроси и за които „едно тяло е толкова по-безпогрешно, колкото по-малко задачи върши“.

За избора на точно тези имена Гонсало Тавареш споделя, че не е включил всички свои най-любими писатели, а тези, които е могъл да вкара в абсурдистична рамка. За в бъдеще обаче планира обитателите на „Кварталът“ да нараснат.

Целият отзив:
http://knigata365.com/kvartalat-gonza...

[Margarita Garova]

Много особена книга, което може да се каже за много книги, разбира се, но тази е наистина особена за моите стандарти. Носи специфична философия, с намигане, с абсурди, с препратки и вероятно ще се хареса на читатели с по-елитарни вкусове. За съжаление не е моето четиво и я зарязвам скоропостижно.

[Argos · Rating 2 out of 5]

Arka kapakta J.Saramago’nun yazdıklarıyla müthiş bir kitap beklentisiyle başladım. Deneysel bir düz metin (şekillerle desteklenen) buldum. Sevmedim, belki de yazarı anlamadım. Neyse, bana göre değil bu kitap.

[Larnacouer de SH · Rating 5 out of 5]

Not edin: Bir şeylerden bunalmış, sıkılmış olduğunuz bir zamanda; sizi o zorlu zamandan koparıp biraz soluklanmanızı sağlayacak şey bu ufacık tefecik turşucuk beyefendi. Ne yalan söyleyeyim uzun zamandır okuduğum en orijinal, absürt, zahmetsiz ve keyifli kitap kendisi.

Tavares’in şahsına münhasır yazım tarzı ve kurgusuyla kalbinizi çaba harcamadan kazanabilecek bir eser.

Lakin kara mizahtan haz etmeyen okurlar okumadan evvel iki kez düşünsün derim, bu öneri sizin için değil; zira size yaramaz böyle sempatik, şakamatik kitaplar.

[Selin Saracoglu Bayraklı · Rating 5 out of 5]

Beyefendiler'i çok sevdim. Özellikle Bay Valéry, Bay Calvino ve Bay Juarroz bölümleri harikaydı.

[Mustafa Şahin · Rating 4 out of 5]

Değişik ve eğlenceli bir okuma deneyimi. Kısa kısa, kimisi gerçekten dahiyane fikirlerden ve ifadelerden oluşuyor. Bay Valery'ye buradan selamlarımı gönderiyorum.

[Деница Райкова]

Гонсало М. Тавареш - "Кварталът", изд. "Ерго" 2020, прев. Даринка Кирчева

Нощес в полунощ се прибрах от "Кварталът".
И сега, след изминалите вече няколко часа от затварянето на последната страница - а като се замисля, можех да "се върна" и по-рано; дали не се забавих умишлено - мога да кажа, че четиридневната ми "разходка" из него беше едно преживяване, което трудно се поддава на описване. По много причини.
Първо - защото категорично не знам къде да причисля тази книга. Нито като вид литературно произведение - защото тя не е повест, не е роман, не е сборник с разкази, всъщност, парафразирайки едно заглавие на Сароян, ще си позволя да кажа, че поне за мен тя беше "нещо като нищо друго на света" - нито жанрово. Би могло, може би, много условно да се каже, че тя е нещо като "хроника" на Квартала - или поне запознаване с неговата културна живописност. Условно, защото в книгата са представени едва десетима души, и то не чрез "истински" случки, а чрез техния - понякога наглед обичаен, друг път леко чудат, а в последната част откровено странен - начин да виждат света. Интересен похват е, че някои от тях носят имена на известни фигури от литературата - и поне при мен това пробуди интерес, и вероятно ще се запозная с творчеството на онези от тях, които не са ми толкова познати.
Разгръщайки книгата сега, след като вече я прочетох, виждам как съм белязала "пътя" с из нея с бели листчета. И то най-вече в първата й част, онази, отнасяща се за господин Валери и логиката. Онази част, вкоято "улиците се вкопчват в обувките ми, защото не съм щастлив". Връщах се много пъти към това изречение. Към това вкопчване. И се замислях, как така улиците "не пускат" един не-щастлив човек да си продължи по пътя? Защо? За да го задържат и да му прошепнат как да бъде по-щастлив? За да не му позволят да продължи и да разнесе своето нещастие нататък? А моите обувки улиците бързат да ги отпратят, правят ги да се плъзгат по-бързо нататък - какво ли означава това?
А господин Анри с неговите теории за света. И с абсента. Винаги абсентът.. "Моята теория за света се нарича абсент. " "Информацията е другата страна на абсента".И винаги, всичко може да се реши с чаша абсент.
Най-абсурдна - и въпреки това най-позната в известен смисъл - ми беше историята на господин Брехт. Навярно защото много, много отдавна, преди близо 20 години, ми попадна едно томче на Брехт. И макар да не помня почти нищо като текст, ми е останал споменът за абсурда. За един тебеширен кръ��. И едно-единствено изречение, от поема, посветена на детския кръстоносен поход.
Частта, която прочетох най-бързо - и която в същото време вероятно разбрах най-малко - беше тази за господин Сведенборг. Прочетох я бързо по една много проста причина - поради твърде малкото текст. Но се изгубих в цялата тази геометрия. И вероятно би трябвало да се върна към нея поне веднъж, защото по някакъв начин фигурите затормозяваха мисълта ми и може би заради това понякога не прочитах достатъчно внимателно текста, опитвайки се да "хвана" връзката.
Последната част - "Господин Елиът и лекциите" - по някакъв странен начин ме върна в часовете по литература, и по-точно към онзи нелеп начин, по който те протичаха някога. И ако тогава все пак се опитвахме да се придържаме към зададената форма на "анализ", то сега тук, четейки "анализа" на стихотворенията, той ми звучеше откровено безумно. Запитах се кому е нужен той, какъв е смисълът от едно откровено преобръщане на написаното, от търсене на все по-"задълбочени", а всъщност откровено странни и безскмислени тълкувания? не можем ли просто да се наслаждаваме - или пък да не харесваме - един стих? Дали този стремеж няма да ни изиграе лоша шега някой ден? Дали няма да се престараем? И да станем като онзи герой от песента на Висоцки, който звъни в полицията, понеже на вратата му се явява създание от руските вълшебни приказки?
Обиколката из "Кварталът" си заслужаваше. Срещна ме с интересни и колоритни личности, "хвърли" ме в интересни литературни похвати и начини на мислене. Радвам се, че това е само първата част от замисъла, и се надявам да видим на български и другите части. Вярвам, че ще са също така интригуващи. Заслужава си да предприемете тази обиколка... и нека обувките ви не се вкопчват в пътя.
📷

[Ludmilla · Rating 5 out of 5]

Özellikle Calvino ve Valery bölümlerine bayıldım. Tek eksiği Walser kısmının biraz kısa kalması. Tavares'in diğer kitaplarını da yakın zamanda okumayı planlıyorum.

[Дилян Георгиев · Rating 5 out of 5]

Много тънък интелектуален хумор. Брилянтна книга!

[Asya · Rating 4 out of 5]

[jeremy · Rating 5 out of 5]

by the time gonçalo tavares's dark, stirring 2004 novel jerusalem came to american audiences in 2009, the portuguese writer had already won a number of prestigious international prizes. with three-quarters of his acclaimed kingdom series ("o reino") now available in english (after learning to pray in the age of technique and joseph walser's machine were published in 2011 and 2012, respectively), stateside readers have been able to espy but a portion of tavares's abundant talents. the neighborhood, while offering further demonstrative proof of his literary prowess, could not be more dissimilar in style, form, and tone than the three novels that preceded it in translation.

the neighborhood series ("o bairro"), begun in 2002, is an ambitious attempt to populate a fictional community with stories about, or in homage to, some of the world's most important writers (as well as, perhaps, the occasional artist and architect). these stories are not biographical, per se, but instead nestle themselves within the style and conception we have of these writers from reading their popular books ("to a certain extent their personalities work within the perimeters of what we think we know of those writers and, more important, of their writing"). currently inhabited by ten residents, tavares's neighborhood is apparently set to proliferate as long as its progenitor continues to write fiction. published as slim, single volumes in portugal, the neighborhood collects six of the ten tales that tavares has written over the course of the past decade. "mister valéry," "mister calvino," "mister juarroz," "mister henri," "mister kraus," and "mister walser" are the included selections, with "o senhor brecht," "o senhor breton," "o senhor swedenborg," and "o senhor eliot" having been left out.

"mister valéry," the french poet-philosopher is characterized as a solitary, quirky figure enraptured by his own unique blend of logical illogic (or is it illogical logic?) as it pertains to the objects he encounters in everyday life.

"the only chance that truth has of surviving is to multiply itself. if there is only one single truth, then lies can be all those billions of possibilities that remain. thus it would be impossible to discover the truth: a miraculous chance; whereas lies, on the contrary, would always be around us."

"mister calvino," the incomparable italian novelist, fabulist, and short story writer, as one would expect, exhibits a most unique and curious way of viewing the world.

he again looked at the shelf and at the faded covers and, suddenly, it was as though everything had become clear: the origin of the phenomenon, the true reasons for the happening that someone would have classified, at first glance, as a chemical happening. but it wasn't as simple as that. calvino was not merely dealing with a change in substances, this was a force, a strong force that almost had fragile muscles. and this insufficient force originated from the sun: the sun wanted to open the books, it concentrated its rays, with all its might, on the cover of a book because it wanted to open it, it wanted to see the first page, to read, to reflect upon great phrases, to be moved by poems. the sun simply wanted to read, it yearned to do so like a child who was about to enter school.

"mister juarroz," the argentine poet best known for his collections of vertical poetry, is enamored by shadows, the spaces between things, order, and the nature of reality and perception.

mister juarroz imagined a watch that instead of showing the time would depict space. a watch where the large hand would indicate on a map the exact location where a person was at any given moment.

"and what about the small hand? what would that show?" asked his wife.

"the location of god," answered mister juarroz.

"mister henri" (as in michaux), was a belgian-born french poet and painter, whom tavares portrays as interested in both mathematics and inventions - when he is not consumed with his one true interest, absinthe. though he offers myriad "encyclopedic dissertations" on a variety of subjects, he only does so while being fed a steady stream of his green-tinted beverage of choice. "another glass of absinthe, my dear sir!"

"the best thing to do would be to gather all these facts and events into a book, and then reduce this book to half its size, and so forth, until one managed to condense all the knowledge of this world into a sentence of ten words. then all of us would learn just that one sentence and we would then have time to seriously enjoy ourselves drinking glasses of absinthe, one after another, just like the gods recommend."

karl kraus, the austrian satirist, reports in "mister kraus" on the run-up and aftermath of a local election. the send-up of politics, democracy, and the quest for power exposes the folly (and unintended humor) of leaders and their sycophantic assistants.

"it's child's play," said mister kraus. "when politicians speak to us from the heavens above, and point their fingers upward saying, see?, it's then, at that precise moment, that we should be looking attentively at the objects they have in their cellars."

finally we encounter "mister walser," the enigmatic swiss writer known for his long and solitary walks. walser lives on the outskirts of tavares's neighborhood, away from the rest of his fictional community. he is overjoyed by the prospects of his new home, and the secluded luxury it affords - only to find it overrun by some unexpected guests.

it is said that this expectation of creating a personal space where it was possible to simply talk with other men, argue, discuss large or small ideas, matters that are of interest to countries or continents and matters that are of interest only to the neighboring community, this underlying anxiety behind a rational climate of sociability, should not be confused with a stupid and unconscious surrender to the shapeless noise of a city.

why texas tech university press decided to only publish six of the ten works that comprise (thus far) the neighborhood series is unknown - but this handsome edition is a welcomed introduction nonetheless. according to at least one version of tavares's neighborhood map, his fictional precinct could well become a literary paradise, as another thirty or so inhabitants seem to have taken up residence (including the likes of borges, melville, rimbaud, proust, orwell, voltaire, joyce, beckett, kafka, pessoa, gogol, garcía lorca, woolf, musil, cortázar, mishima, and many others). whether tavares ends up writing tales for all of these newly-settled denizens remains to be seen, but for the sheer scope and ingenuity of the project alone (as well as for its early successes), tavares is deserving of both praise and admiration.

given the existential darkness revealed by tavares throughout his kingdom series, the playful, often humorous nature of the neighborhood may well come as a surprise to many readers. to think that tavares is but a quarter of the way through his planned series is quite remarkable, especially given how fantastic these initial six entries are. if saramago's now infamous prognostication that gonçalo tavares will one day win the nobel prize comes true, it will be on the vast talents he has brought to an enviable breadth of work (that also includes poetry, drama, essays, short stories, and maybe even a children's book). the varied literary stylings to be found in the neighborhood make evident that tavares is rather comfortable (and adept!) at writing within any number of forms. he is not only one of portugal's or europe's greatest living writers, but also one of the most exciting writers at work anywhere on the international stage today.


the neighborhood's introductory essay, written by philip graham, provides a worthwhile background on both tavares himself and the neighborhood books in general. rachel caiano, tavares's wife, drew the work's illustrations (that, too, differ in style depending on the author being imagined). the six books selected for inclusion were translated from the portuguese by roopanjali roy.

[Trevor · Rating 5 out of 5]

The Neighborhood is a compilation of six “Mister” stories based on the lives and work of some of our greatest authors: Mister Valéry (Paul Valéry), Mister Calvino (Italo Calvino), Mister Juarroz (Roberto Juarroz), Mister Henri (Henri Michaux), Mister Kraus (Karl Kraus), and Mister Walser (Robert Walser). Importantly, these are not biographies (and are the furthest thing from dry biographies). Each “Mister” story is a playful riff on a theme inspired by the man and his work, both his style and his characters. They are whimsical and charming, though they also contain a great deal of sadness. All of those emotions are nicely underlined in the varied illustrations by Rachel Caiano (Tavares’ wife).

The book begins with Mister Valéry. Paul Valéry was a French poet and philosopher who died in 1945. At various times in his life, he published short pieces centered around a Monsieur Teste (Mister Head) (one can feel the relationship between Tavares’ project and Valéry’s). Monsieur Teste is an intellectual who seeks self-mastery by exploring the limits of the physical world. The first segment of the book is called “Friends,” and we meet a Mister Valéry who seems to be occupied in the same pursuit as Monsieur Teste:

Mister Valéry was very short, but he used to jump a lot.

He explained: “I am just like any tall person, except for less time.”

But this constituted a problem for him.

Later, Mister Valéry began to ponder about the fact that, if tall people were also to jump, he would never match them on a vertical level. And this thought dampened his spirits a bit. One fine day, Mister Valéry ceased to jump. Definitively. However, it was more due to tiredness than for any other reason.

He stops jumping but continues to consider ways he can be as tall as those around him. He could stand on a bench, but then he’s immobile. He could take a chair with wheels, but this isn’t practical. He wishes he could freeze his jump, “if only for an hour (he did not ask for any more than that).” Finally he ”decided to be tall in his mind.” So he imagines he’s looking at people as if he were twenty centimeters taller, and “[b]y concentrating, Mister Valéry even managed to see the tops of the heads of people who were much taller than he.” This results in another problem: he then can’t remember their faces. “Essentially, with his newfound height, Mister Valéry lost friends.”

We continue to read about Mister Valéry as he navigates the physical world. Not only is it interesting and witty, but it is also a lot of fun. This can be evidenced by the fact that children in Portugal often perform pieces from these narratives. I’ve even found a video on YouTube where some children filmed their interpretation of ”Friends” (click here).

While all of the six stories are charming and sad, and all are approached with whimsy, they are not the same in style. A few have an episodic feel (like Mister Valéry) and a few progress more like a conventional narrative. Further, they match, to an extent, the styles or personalities of the authors they are improvising. Mister Henri, for example, brings up his love of absinthe and encyclopedias in almost every vignette in the Mister Henri segment. Mister Kraus is writing a chronicle of a “Boss” pre- and post-election, and in this narrative Tavares injects the cyncisism and philosophies of power of the real Karl Kraus, the Austrian journalist and satirist.

Probably my favorite of the six (and I loved each) was Mister Walser, a touching and frightening improvisation on Robert Walser, the jubilant writer of long sentences packed with frenetic energy and fearless of that exclamation mark. Mister Walser, you’ll see in the map that makes the cover to this edition, has his abode far from the neighborhood. He’s a wanderer and comfortable in solitude. Yet he’s animated. He’s just finished construction of his home and is anxious to start his new life:

Mister Walser was overjoyed! In the midst of bushes, wild plants, and other manifestations of nature, in the course of a full and unpredictable life, this was what he had managed to build — using all the specialized technical skills that only a great civilization is capable of providing — a simple house, nothing luxurious or ostentatious, a modest home in which to live, the house of Mister Walser, a man who, for the time being, was alone in the world, but someone who viewed this house that had finally been finished — how many years had it taken to build?! so many! — as an opportunity to, frankly speaking, find company at last.

That is pitch perfect Robert Walser prose — the exuberance, the embellishment, the existential fear just under the surface. Proud of his home, he now wishes to inaugurate it, and a proper inauguration requires the presence of the proper individual: Thereza M. He sits to write her a letter. Nearly finished, he is shocked when someone rings his doorbell. A handyman has arrived to fix his tap. Polite and proper as always, Mr. Walser lets him in to do his work, anxious for it to all be finished so he can move on with his plans (the way Tavares describes Mister Walser’s emotions and feelings during the time he waits for the handyman to finish is reason enough to buy and cherish this book). But, before the handyman can leave, another repairman comes, followed by others, until the house is filled with people fixing it up properly, tearing down walls, putting cardboard over windows. The house’s “long career” now seems like a fancy. It’s a remarkable progression of events, culminating in the saddest passage of the book. Night has fallen, and most of the repairmen are still there and have asked to spend the night. Hospitality requires Mr. Walser to be a kind host, so he wanders around, finding ways to make sure everyone is comfortable:

At that point he was just too exhausted. He decided to lie down right there, in what appeared to be a corridor, although it was not very narrow. Not having foreseen this turn of events he had neglected to bring his coat from the hall. It was quite cold there owing to the fact that some windows had been removed from their frames and the cardboard covering these gaps was insufficient.

The entire “Mister Walser” section is charming, witty, funny, as are the other sections, but, also like the other sections, underneath the whimsical descriptions of a bad day is the genuine terror of broken, abandoned, eventually forsaken dreams and the swift (or is it merciful) passage of life. Obviously, that passage takes our mind to that Christmas Day in 1956 when Robert Walser, after spending 27 years in a mental hospital he put himself in, went on a lonely walk and died in the snow.

Genuinely, I feel I’ve discovered a treasuer that will keep me rich for life. I’m thrilled to say this volume didn’t originate from one book. Tavares has been publishing these short pieces in an ongoing series since 2002, and this book is merely a compilation of six of the ten currently available (hopefully a volume containing Mister Brecht, Mister Breton, Mister Swedenborg, and Mister Eliot is in the works). And I have more wonderful news: there are several more planned (apparently the map of the neighborhood now contains 39 names, including Mishima, Woolf (a Mrs.!), and Gogol).

[Зорница Иванова · Rating 3 out of 5]

приятно четиво за разпускане, тъкмо леко да те подразни, и издърпва лек хумор, да те погъделичка.

[Renklikalem · Rating 4 out of 5]

Bu kitabı paylaşmaya doyamadım. Hikayede ne kadar paylaştımsa daha çok çekip paylaşamadıklarım kaldı galeride. İşin aslı başlarken bu kadar keyif alacağımı düşünmeyi geçtim açıkçası biraz hayal kırıklığına da uğramıştım. Roman gibi bir kurgu beklerken kısa kısa hikayeler ve yer yer ipin ucunu kaçırdınız gibi hissettirse de hikayeyi bütünleyen çizimlerden oluşan çok acayip deneysel bir metinle karşı karşıya kaldım.

Öncelikle ilk Tavares okumam olduğu için yazarı tanımıyorum diye çekincelerim vardı ama sonra baktım burada bahsettiği diğer “beyefendiler”i de neredeyse hiç tanımıyorum. Eyvah işler daha da mı karışıyor derken yazarın korkma biz bizeyiz dercesine sırtımı sıvazlayan samimi ve eğlenceli üslubu, ironik ve düşündüren tespitleriyle kendimi akışa bıraktım diyebilirim.

Arka kapaktan Vila Matas’ın cümlesinden yardım alacağım kitapla ilgili fikir verebilmek adına: “Yazar Tavares portatif bir mahalle yaratmış.” Bu mahallede kimler mi var? Paul Valery (okumadım), Henri Michaux (okumadım), Bertolt Brecht (okumadım), Roberto Juarroz (okumadım), Robert Walser (okumadım-ay bunu mutlaka en kısa sürede okumalıyım ama! Etrafımda çokça Walser hayranı olduğunu biliyorum:) ve Italo Calvino (çok şükür birini okumuşum bu beyefendilerin) Ve fakat, hiç tanımadan bilmeden ama çok keyif alarak okudum tüm metni. Her isme ayrılan bölümde Tavares o ismin en belirgin özelliklerinden yola çıkarak mini hikayeler, anlatılar, aynı bu “beyefendiler” gibi nevi şahsına münhasır yazılar yazmış. Ben çok severek okudum. Bölümlere, her yazara bir gün ayırarak okudum. Kalın gibi dursa da kısa hikayeler ve sayfa boşlukları sayesinde hızla okunuyor fakat ben tek seferde okumak yerine bölerek okuduğum için sanırım olabileceğinden daha çok keyif aldım. Aynı gün okusaydım biraz sıkılabilirdim bence:)

Kitabın tek olumsuz yanı şu oldu benim için: bu aslında devam eden bir kurgu olmamasından kaynaklanıyor yani kusur gibi değil de benim okuma keyfimi düşüren bir şeydi. Kitabı okurken severek okudum ama kenara koyup bıraktığımda kitap çok da beni çağırmadı nedense. Yine de okuduğum için memnun olduğum bir kitap oldu. Deneysel metinleri sevenlerin ve bahsettiğim “beyefendiler”den birine veya hepsine ilgi duyanlarınsa zaten kaçırmamasını öneririm.

Hamiş: Mahallede daha başka birçok isim var ama sanırım yazılan-basılan ve şimdilik dilimize çevrilenlerle idare edeceğiz gibi görünüyor. Fakat benim bu mahalle sakinelerinden okumak istediğim daha çok isim var. Umarım Tavares bu seriye devam eder. -Mahallenin şeması ve sakinleri kapak görselinde-

[Ваня Г.]

Трябваше да бъда в Лисабон, чиито улици не се вкопчват в краката ми (логиката на господин Валери е, че лишеното от избор решение може да бъде почивка за ума). Добре дошла. Докъдето има думи – все някак – може да се стигне. Започнах разходката в компенсаторния квартал с идеята да хитрувам – ще бродя в малко думи и много нарисувано.
Тавареш обаче е много по-голям измамник от мен – и той като господин Калвино не притежава достатъчно изразни средства, за да прекара и ден, без да си съчинява (някои го наричат лъжа). За него, както за енциклопедичния му приятел господин Анри, непитейните течности са като текстове, написани на непознати езици. Затова тази книга те напива, замайва те, размътва ти главата, краде ти от паметта, мъчи те, че искаш, а не можеш да я наизустиш: копнееш да я пиеш и попи(й)ваш цялата. Като силен абсент, неразреден.
За господин Хуарос реалността е досадна материя – доказват го успехът на господин Брехт и политиката на господин Краус („единственият обективен начин да коментираш политиката е сатирата“). Злоупотребите на ежедневното щурмуват дома на човека, който всеки трябва да изгражда самостоятелно, за да мисли не като другите. Вън от света, далеч от суета.
В гората от значения Господин Бретон интервюира себе си, като замразява във формули съжденията: „На везните паметта тежи повече от намеренията“.
Господин Сведенборг и геометричните му изследвания показват съблазънта на науката и открехват входа към другия. „7. Отварянето на непрекъснатата линия е приемане, че съществува езикът на Другия. 8. То е началото на любовта“. Какво повече от това.
Благодаря ти, господин Елиът, че си създал свят красив и различен. Тези стихове ще ти дадат опрощение, че го поправяш. Лекциите имат достатъчно слушатели. А и всички съседи знаят, че латриналиите са дело на Борхес – „кварталният графитчия“. „Господин Борхес се усмихна. Поклати глава и промърмори донякъде убедително: не бях аз“.
И аз не съм.
„Една скоба: интересно е, като се замислим, че глаголът чувствам се отнася до действието, което става, след като са ни отнели всички други действия. Сиреч: не виждам, не чувам, не усещам миризма, не пипам; тогава чувствам. Чувството, бихме могли да кажем, е последната възможност на тялото“.
Скобата трябва да се отвори, за да се вмъкне чувството към тази книга и възможните на тялото (пък било то и последни) да го пренесат, докъдето може.

[Yasemin Macar · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5'tan 4😅

Bu kitap herkesin okuyup keyif alacağı bir kitap değil öncelikle bunu diyerek başlayalım. Ama yazarın düşüncesi çok iyi; kurduğu bir mahalle var ve oraya sevdiği ve okumaktan haz aldığı yazarları yerleştirmiş. Bazıları tek başına yaşarken bazıları da aynı apartmanda 😅 Asterix'in köyü gibi farklı tarzda biraz ironik, biraz çılgın, biraz da fantastik bir ortam yaratmış.
Toplam 39 yazardan esinlenmiş bu mahalleyi yaratırken ama 10 tanesi ile ilgili birseyler yazmış. Roman kesinlikle değil; deneme, yer yer hiciv olan kısa kısa öykülerden oluşan bölümler var. En başta sorgulatıp yok canım daha neler derken bir bakıyorsunuz sonunda olabilir de deyip mantığınıza oturtabiliyorsunuz.
En çok sevdiğim bölüm Bay Henri ve Bay Brecht oldu. Bay Calvino'yu daha farklı yazabilirdi.
İlginç birşeyler okuyayım derseniz listenize alabilirsiniz.

[Юлия · Rating 5 out of 5]

Добре е някой да направи поправка . Не е Анри - а Андре Бретон / André Breton/.
Не разбирам как още на корицата да се направи такава фрапираща грешка . Дали е забелязана въобще . Все пак има разлика между Henri и André .

[Елвира · Rating 2 out of 5]

Дори няма да се хабя да я дочета.

[Jacques · Rating 4 out of 5]

Leído en la preciosa edición de 2019 de Editorial Catafixia con la traducción de Florencia Garamuño.

Libro indescriptible. Cada narrador es original y exuda su propia personalidad. El apartado gráfico en su tremenda simplicidad aporta muchísimo. Entre lo absurdo lo cómico se van asomando críticas y reflexiones tremendas. Hubo señores que no me entusiasmaron, otros que fueron maravillosos.

Una lectura originalísima:
Youtube
Instagram

[Nadia · Rating 2 out of 5]

Nie zrozumiałam przynajmniej połowy. Albo jest za mądra albo po prostu bez sensu

Książka

[Ale · Rating 3 out of 5]

Gonçalo M. Tavares, Lor Signori

Ho deciso di leggere questo libro di Tavares perché ero rimasta fulminata da “Gerusalemme”; qui siamo completamente in un altro mondo e in un altro stile.

I “Lor signori” del titolo sono gli abitanti del bairro, un borgo immaginario che Tavares ha cominciato a popolare nel 2002 con i suoi riferimenti letterari e artistici. So che questo progetto è andato avanti un po’ e che il borgo si è arricchito di nuovi residenti, ma non ho capito se è ancora in corso.
Nella mia edizione ci sono quattro personaggi (Italo Calvino, Paul Valéry, Karl Kraus e Robert Walser, gli ultimi due a me sconosciuti): le pagine loro dedicate da Tavares si ispirano alle loro opere o alla loro vita (non approfondisco perché non sarei in grado di spiegare come).

Le stile surreale decisamente non fa per me ma un volta “rassegnatami”, sono riuscita a godermi le quattro brevi storie (illustrate!) pur non cogliendo i riferimenti ai personaggi: a parte Calvino e un po’ Valéry gli altri sono per me degli emeriti sconosciuti.
Insomma non il libro per me, ma cercherò certamente di leggere altro di questo autore (definito da Saramago qualcosa come “un genio della letteratura contemporanea” o “il più grande autore portoghese vivente”), se non altro perché sono rimasta affascinata dall’atmosfera oscura e un po’ opprimente di “Gerusalemme”.

[Edgar Trevizo · Rating 3 out of 5]

Es una delicia casi por completo. La parte de Valéry o de Eliot, por ejemplo, son maravillosas, pero otras más también, por desgracia, son demasiado repetitivas de la misma fórmula. Le pasa un poco lo que a Baricco y todo lo contrario que a Calvino...

[Zoi Elena · Rating 1 out of 5]

Μετά από αυτό(το οποίο αγόρασα με αγωνία) έπαψα να υπολογίζω στη γνώμη ανθρώπων από το 'χώρο του βιβλίου'.

[Merve Büker · Rating 4 out of 5]

Portekizli yazar Gonçalo M. Tavares ile tanışma kitabım, Beyefendiler. Metin ile ilgili söyleyebileceğim ilk sözcük “özgün”. Kitaplığımda bulunan hiçbir kitaba benzemiyor Beyefendiler.

Bir yazar mahallesi tasvir etmiş Tavares. Birbirinden bağımsız altı farklı karakter yer alıyor burada. Bay Valery ilk karakterimiz, (ve mantık) diye bir altbaşlık eklemiş yazar. Bay Walser (ve orman) ise bir başka karakter. Karakterlerin arasında belli bir tema kurgulanmamış. Bu da bir sonraki karakterde ne okuyacağınızın tamamen sürpriz olması demek.

Tüm karakterlerle empati kurmak, duygusal bağ yakalamak çok zor bir iş. Çünkü karakterlerin tamamı normal hayatta karşılaşabileceğimiz kişilerden çok uzak yapıdalar. Fakat buna rağmen okuması keyifliydi. Kitabın hemen her sayfasında yer alan ve Rachel Caiano imzalı görseller de metnin içeriğine güzel uyum sağlamış.

Yazarla yolumun kesişmesine çok mutlu oldum. Beyefendiler farklı ve keyifli bir okumaydı. Metnin herkese hitap ettiğini düşünmüyorum ama farklı metinler okumayı sevenler kitaba şans verebilirler. Okuyacak olan herkese şimdiden keyifli okumalar diliyorum.

[trestitia ⵊⵊⵊ deamorski]

Bal peteği Kimra'dan geldim.

[Tess Pedro · Rating 4 out of 5]

No se que leí, pero me da vuelta la cabeza.

[moi, k.y.a.]

beni pek değil, hiç sarmadı.

[Olivia · Rating 3 out of 5]

In The Neighborhood, Tavares gathers some of literature's most outstanding authors, or rather his own impressions of them from reading their works, and places them all in the same part of his imaginary town, in the same time frame. In this neighborhood, men like Valéry, Calvino, and Swedenborg live their lives, all with their special quirks and ideas.

The book is both an experiment with literary figures, and a wonderful play on poor logic. Tavares' characters tend to apply strict, theoretical logic to real, chaotic life, making the logic itself exaggerated, distorted, and finally completely illogical. A significant part of the book revolves around this deteriorated state where common sense that's been stretched too far ends up, and it's a lot of fun. Especially Valéry and Swedenborg live their lives in a world where logic can be applied to anything from love and seduction to depression and empathy, with absurd consequences. The rational and reasonable becomes nonsensical in the hands of Tavares.

However, Tavares keeps walking the edge between the absurd and the cliché. Which side he ends up on seems to correlate with the amount of seriousness he puts into his subjects. Those that fall flat all have traces of an attempted profundity, closely followed by the resulting superficiality. The worst offender of this is Mister Calvino. Tavares seems like he can't decide if he wants to parody the types of Coelho and their distinctive, pseudo-self help style, or if he wants to imitate them. When he leans toward the latter, we get clever but ultimately meaningless tales, seemingly completely void of self awareness. On the other hand, the clichéd bits are mixed up with others that are genuinely brilliant, where Tavares throws seriousness and pretensions out the window and simply laughs in our faces. In those moments, The Neighborhood is absolutely magical.

Mister Brecht is one of those amazing parts where everything just works. Here, Brecht is an Aesop-like figure, if Aesop had been a drunkard, twisting his fables into bitter, uncomfortable parables that sometimes border on the offensive. The absolute zenith of The Neighborhood is Mister Eliot, the densest chapter in the book, where the Eliot of Tavares' fantasies is giving lectures on various verses of famous poets, trying to make some sense out of them. This is absolutely hilarious. Eliot attempts to find ways of making the dismembered poems "saner, more reasonable", finding "logical and sensible alternatives" to the artistic, abstract verses. He treats them as something tangible, analysing their parts and words trying to find something concrete. The very matter-of-factness with which this is done is absolutely wonderful, and reads like playful mockery of those who try to apply the rules of the every-day to literature. This is the way I wish Tavares would write more often.

Ultimately, this seems to be a running theme in the stories of the "misters": logic meets art. Are they really as incompatible as they might seem at first glance? Tavares answers no, and shows us why, especially in the chapters of Misters Eliot and Swedenborg (where the Swedish philosopher and theologian tries to interpret reality by sketching geometrical shapes and their relationships). In this fictional town of Tavares, logic and abstract literature are tightly wound together, and maybe we'll find something completely new in the resulting chaos. The Neighborhood is very hard to rate. The different chapters are pretty inconsistent, and a lot of it is hit-or-miss. At its best, Tavares' writing is fanciful and completely absurd. At its worst, its pretentious. My actual rating is somewhere close to a 3,5. However, the good parts left me wanting more, and so I will definitely seek out some of Tavares' other works. If he is regularly anywhere near his best, I have a literary treasure to look forward to.

(The version I've been reading is a Swedish translation published by Bokförlaget Tranan, and includes the stories of Misters Valéry, Brecht, Eliot, Juarroz, Swedenborg, and Calvino. Hans Berggren's translation seems solid.)