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"Όταν βλέπω δύο ανθρώπους να φιλιούνται, νομίζοντας ότι αγαπιούνται, νομίζοντας ότι η αγάπη τους θα κρατήσει, ψιθυρίζοντας ο ένας στον άλλον εν ονόματι ενός ενστίκτου στο οποίο δίνουν μεγαλόπρεπα ονόματα, όταν τους βλέπω να χαϊδεύονται μ' αυτή τη νοσηρή λαχτάρα, μ' αυτή την προσδοκία να συναντήσουν κάτι κρίσιμο στο δέρμα του άλλου, όταν βλέπω τα στόματά τους να κολλάνε μεταξύ τους, τις γλώσσες τους να μπλέκονται, τα φρεσκολουσμένα μαλλιά τους, τ' άναρχα χέρια τους, τα υφάσματα που αγγίζονται κι ανασηκώνονται σαν την πιο ρυπαρή αυλαία, το αγχώδες τικ των γονάτων που ξεπηδούν σαν ελατήρια, τα φτηνά κρεβάτια, τα ξενοδοχεία ημι-διαμονής που αργότερα θα τα θυμούνται σαν παλάτια, όταν βλέπω δύο ηλίθιους να εκτονώνουν ατιμώρητα τον πόθο τους στο φως της μέρας σαν να μην τους έβλεπα, δεν αισθάνομαι μόνο ζήλια. Τους λυπάμαι κιόλας. Λυπάμαι το σάπιο μέλλον τους. Τότε σηκώνομαι, ζητάω το λογαριασμό και τους στέλνω ένα λοξό χαμόγελο, σαν να επέστρεφα από έναν πόλεμο που εκείνοι δεν μπορούσαν καν να φανταστούν ότι είχε ξεσπάσει."
Το παιδί γράφει μια έκθεση για το πώς πέρασε στο πρώτο και τελευταίο ταξίδι που έκανε με την νταλίκα του πατέρα του. Ο πατέρας, που αργοπεθαίνει στο νοσοκομείο, αφήνει σ' ένα μαγνητόφωνο τις υποθήκες του για να τις διαβάσει ο γιος του όταν μεγαλώσει. Η μητέρα, μόνη στο σπίτι, γράφει ένα ημερολόγιο για την προσωρινή απουσία του και την αναμονή της οριστικής του απώλειας. Τρεις σπαραχτικοί εναλλασσόμενοι μονόλογοι συνθέτουν αυτό το αριστουργηματικό αφήγημα για τη φθορά και την αγάπη, για τον έρωτα και την αγάπη ως αντίσταση στη φθορά του έρωτα. (Από την παρουσίαση στο οπισθόφυλλο του βιβλίου)
Το παιδί γράφει μια έκθεση για το πώς πέρασε στο πρώτο και τελευταίο ταξίδι που έκανε με την νταλίκα του πατέρα του. Ο πατέρας, που αργοπεθαίνει στο νοσοκομείο, αφήνει σ' ένα μαγνητόφωνο τις υποθήκες του για να τις διαβάσει ο γιος του όταν μεγαλώσει. Η μητέρα, μόνη στο σπίτι, γράφει ένα ημερολόγιο για την προσωρινή απουσία του και την αναμονή της οριστικής του απώλειας. Τρεις σπαραχτικοί εναλλασσόμενοι μονόλογοι συνθέτουν αυτό το αριστουργηματικό αφήγημα για τη φθορά και την αγάπη, για τον έρωτα και την αγάπη ως αντίσταση στη φθορά του έρωτα. (Από την παρουσίαση στο οπισθόφυλλο του βιβλίου)
200 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2012
51 people are currently reading
2438 people want to read
About the author
Andrés Neuman
94 books508 followersHijo de músicos argentinos exiliados (de madre violinista, de origen ítalo-español, y padre oboísta, de origen judío alemán), tiene la ciudadanía argentina y española. La historia novelada de su familia, infancia argentina y ancestros europeos puede leerse en su libro Una vez Argentina. A los catorce años se trasladó a Granada, donde realizó sus estudios secundarios, obtuvo la licenciatura en Filología Hispánica por su Universidad, cursó el doctorado e impartió clases de literatura hispanoamericana.
Neuman debutó en la literatura como poeta y narrador breve. Su primera publicación fue un cuaderno de poemas titulado Simulacros, aparecido a principios de 1998 en una pequeña editorial de Granada. A finales de 1999 se publicó su primera novela, Bariloche, que resultó finalista del Premio Herralde y fue recibida como una de las óperas primas del año. Sus siguientes novelas, que también obtuvieron distinciones, lo confirmarían como uno de los más destacados escritores contemporáneos en lengua castellana. El propio Roberto Bolaño, en su libro de ensayos Entre paréntesis, declaró sobre el joven autor:
"Tocado por la gracia. Ningún buen lector dejará de percibir en sus páginas algo que sólo es dable encontrar en la alta literatura, aquella que escriben los poetas verdaderos. La literatura del siglo XXI pertenecerá a Neuman y a unos pocos de sus hermanos de sangre".
La consagración definitiva como novelista le llegó con El viajero del siglo (2009), obra que obtuvo entre otros el Premio Alfaguara y el Premio de la Crítica; además de resultar elegida entre las 5 mejores novelas del año en lengua española en sendas votaciones convocadas por el diario El País entre 50 críticos y periodistas, y por el suplemento El Cultural del diario El Mundo.
Neuman ha desarrollado una intensa labor de divulgación del relato breve. Además de sus libros de cuentos, que incorporan apéndices teóricos sobre el género, ejerció como coordinador del proyecto Pequeñas resistencias, serie de antologías sobre el relato actual escrito en castellano en todo el mundo, publicada entre 2002 y 2010 por la editorial Páginas de Espuma. Cabe en este sentido destacar su prólogo al libro de Horacio Quiroga Cuentos de amor de locura y de muerte, para la editorial Menoscuarto.
Ha trabajado asimismo como columnista en numerosos medios de España y Latinoamérica. Fue guionista de tiras cómicas en el diario Ideal de Granada, colaborando con el dibujante Kicus en una serie de tiras semanales titulada Los quietos. Escribe regularmente en el suplemento cultural del diario español ABC, en la Revista Ñ del diario argentino Clarín y en su blog personal, Microrréplicas.
En 2007, mediante una nueva votación convocada por el Hay Festival y Bogotá Capital mundial del libro, Neuman fue incluido en la selección Bogotá-39. Más tarde, en 2010, fue seleccionado por la revista británica Granta entre Los 22 mejores narradores jóvenes en español.
Neuman debutó en la literatura como poeta y narrador breve. Su primera publicación fue un cuaderno de poemas titulado Simulacros, aparecido a principios de 1998 en una pequeña editorial de Granada. A finales de 1999 se publicó su primera novela, Bariloche, que resultó finalista del Premio Herralde y fue recibida como una de las óperas primas del año. Sus siguientes novelas, que también obtuvieron distinciones, lo confirmarían como uno de los más destacados escritores contemporáneos en lengua castellana. El propio Roberto Bolaño, en su libro de ensayos Entre paréntesis, declaró sobre el joven autor:
"Tocado por la gracia. Ningún buen lector dejará de percibir en sus páginas algo que sólo es dable encontrar en la alta literatura, aquella que escriben los poetas verdaderos. La literatura del siglo XXI pertenecerá a Neuman y a unos pocos de sus hermanos de sangre".
La consagración definitiva como novelista le llegó con El viajero del siglo (2009), obra que obtuvo entre otros el Premio Alfaguara y el Premio de la Crítica; además de resultar elegida entre las 5 mejores novelas del año en lengua española en sendas votaciones convocadas por el diario El País entre 50 críticos y periodistas, y por el suplemento El Cultural del diario El Mundo.
Neuman ha desarrollado una intensa labor de divulgación del relato breve. Además de sus libros de cuentos, que incorporan apéndices teóricos sobre el género, ejerció como coordinador del proyecto Pequeñas resistencias, serie de antologías sobre el relato actual escrito en castellano en todo el mundo, publicada entre 2002 y 2010 por la editorial Páginas de Espuma. Cabe en este sentido destacar su prólogo al libro de Horacio Quiroga Cuentos de amor de locura y de muerte, para la editorial Menoscuarto.
Ha trabajado asimismo como columnista en numerosos medios de España y Latinoamérica. Fue guionista de tiras cómicas en el diario Ideal de Granada, colaborando con el dibujante Kicus en una serie de tiras semanales titulada Los quietos. Escribe regularmente en el suplemento cultural del diario español ABC, en la Revista Ñ del diario argentino Clarín y en su blog personal, Microrréplicas.
En 2007, mediante una nueva votación convocada por el Hay Festival y Bogotá Capital mundial del libro, Neuman fue incluido en la selección Bogotá-39. Más tarde, en 2010, fue seleccionado por la revista británica Granta entre Los 22 mejores narradores jóvenes en español.
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September 2, 2024
IL RUMORE DELLA VITA CHE FINISCE
In principio è un triangolo.
Ma presto diventa un quadrilatero, quando entra in scena il quarto personaggio, Ezequiel, medico curante e amante.
Ma sono tre che parlano e raccontano, i vertici del triangolo: Mario, marito e padre, con una malattia da cui non guarirà – Elena, moglie e madre, e donna - Lito, il figlio, bambino di dieci anni.
La famiglia, tre esistenze che con le loro voci compongono il romanzo alternandosi nei vari capitoli.
Punti di vista diversi, soliloqui, flussi di coscienza, che parlano da soli, con se stessi, a se stessi anche quando mentalmente si rivolgono a un altro, all’altro: d’altra parte, il vero Altro è l’interlocutore invisibile che abita la nostra coscienza.
Tre sguardi sulla medesima storia. Perché unica è l’opera che li raccoglie e unifica, il romanzo, dove va in scena la malattia senza ritorno.
Bello il viaggio in camion del padre prossimo alla fine col figlio, vecchia promessa mantenuta in punto di commiato.
Bello il rapporto tra l’adulto e il bambino (quando il padre prende commiato dal figlio culla la sua testolina sulla spalla come se stesse suonando uno strumento!).
Bella la situazione, la vicinanza fisica circoscritta dall’abitacolo, il viaggio attraverso il paese, l’arrivo al mare, il ritorno a casa.
Bello che Elena sia un’insegnante che legge libri classici e moderni sottolineando i brani che specchiano o illuminano il corso del suo vissuto, cercando risposte al dolore, la perdita, la malattia (e naturalmente questo è una tecnica per arricchire di voci il racconto).
Bella la scrittura, rapida, fraseggiata, a momenti telegrafica.
Però, la cosa più bella, quella che regge e innalza il romanzo, è la voce femminile, quella di Elena, che riflette sulla vita e la morte, la lettura e il piacere, la colpa e il sesso, sui demoni dell'anima, e sui tre uomini della sua vita, marito, figlio, amante. Una voce insolita, sfrontata e aspra, ma soprattutto libera, non contratta o rattrappita dalle convenzioni, dal senso di colpa, dallo sguardo basso.
Mi disprezzo mentre lo penso, ma a volte il corpo di Mario mi fa senso. Faccio fatica a toccarlo almeno quanto lui fa fatica a guardarsi allo specchio. La sua pelle secca. Il suo profilo ossuto. I muscoli flaccidi. La sua improvvisa calvizie. Io mi ero preparata a invecchiare insieme, non a questo. Non ad andare a dormire con un uomo della mia generazione e poi svegliarmi accanto a un anziano prematuro. Che amo ancora. Che non desidero più… Più vedo Ezequiel e più mi sento in colpa. E più mi sento in colpa, più mi ripeto che anch’io mi merito qualche soddisfazione.
Parlare da soli è in parte un omaggio alla figura della persona che si prende cura di qualcuno, e a tutti coloro che hanno vissuto l’esperienza di curare e dire poi addio a un malato che gli era caro, più che essere dedicato al malato in sé.
Cosa succede quando ci prendiamo cura di una persona amata che sta per morire, com’è trascorrere i giorni accanto a qualcuno che si sta allontanando sempre più, dove noi non possiamo arrivare…?
Le malattie terminali sono diverse se riferite a padri, figli, partner, familiari, perché diverso è quello che suscitano, si può scivolare dalla tenerezza alla nausea, spingendosi perfino al rancore.
Il minimo comune denominatore è il dolore: tutte conducono dolore.
Neuman dice in un’intervista che
l’idea centrale del romanzo era, da un lato, esplorare i differenti modi che abbiamo di parlare con noi stessi: l’oralità, il pensiero e la scrittura. Ciascuna delle tre voci del romanzo corrisponde a una di queste maniere di rivolgersi alla nostra coscienza.
In principio è un triangolo.
Ma presto diventa un quadrilatero, quando entra in scena il quarto personaggio, Ezequiel, medico curante e amante.
Ma sono tre che parlano e raccontano, i vertici del triangolo: Mario, marito e padre, con una malattia da cui non guarirà – Elena, moglie e madre, e donna - Lito, il figlio, bambino di dieci anni.
La famiglia, tre esistenze che con le loro voci compongono il romanzo alternandosi nei vari capitoli.
Punti di vista diversi, soliloqui, flussi di coscienza, che parlano da soli, con se stessi, a se stessi anche quando mentalmente si rivolgono a un altro, all’altro: d’altra parte, il vero Altro è l’interlocutore invisibile che abita la nostra coscienza.
Tre sguardi sulla medesima storia. Perché unica è l’opera che li raccoglie e unifica, il romanzo, dove va in scena la malattia senza ritorno.
Bello il viaggio in camion del padre prossimo alla fine col figlio, vecchia promessa mantenuta in punto di commiato.
Bello il rapporto tra l’adulto e il bambino (quando il padre prende commiato dal figlio culla la sua testolina sulla spalla come se stesse suonando uno strumento!).
Bella la situazione, la vicinanza fisica circoscritta dall’abitacolo, il viaggio attraverso il paese, l’arrivo al mare, il ritorno a casa.
Bello che Elena sia un’insegnante che legge libri classici e moderni sottolineando i brani che specchiano o illuminano il corso del suo vissuto, cercando risposte al dolore, la perdita, la malattia (e naturalmente questo è una tecnica per arricchire di voci il racconto).
Bella la scrittura, rapida, fraseggiata, a momenti telegrafica.
Però, la cosa più bella, quella che regge e innalza il romanzo, è la voce femminile, quella di Elena, che riflette sulla vita e la morte, la lettura e il piacere, la colpa e il sesso, sui demoni dell'anima, e sui tre uomini della sua vita, marito, figlio, amante. Una voce insolita, sfrontata e aspra, ma soprattutto libera, non contratta o rattrappita dalle convenzioni, dal senso di colpa, dallo sguardo basso.
Mi disprezzo mentre lo penso, ma a volte il corpo di Mario mi fa senso. Faccio fatica a toccarlo almeno quanto lui fa fatica a guardarsi allo specchio. La sua pelle secca. Il suo profilo ossuto. I muscoli flaccidi. La sua improvvisa calvizie. Io mi ero preparata a invecchiare insieme, non a questo. Non ad andare a dormire con un uomo della mia generazione e poi svegliarmi accanto a un anziano prematuro. Che amo ancora. Che non desidero più… Più vedo Ezequiel e più mi sento in colpa. E più mi sento in colpa, più mi ripeto che anch’io mi merito qualche soddisfazione.
Parlare da soli è in parte un omaggio alla figura della persona che si prende cura di qualcuno, e a tutti coloro che hanno vissuto l’esperienza di curare e dire poi addio a un malato che gli era caro, più che essere dedicato al malato in sé.
Cosa succede quando ci prendiamo cura di una persona amata che sta per morire, com’è trascorrere i giorni accanto a qualcuno che si sta allontanando sempre più, dove noi non possiamo arrivare…?
Le malattie terminali sono diverse se riferite a padri, figli, partner, familiari, perché diverso è quello che suscitano, si può scivolare dalla tenerezza alla nausea, spingendosi perfino al rancore.
Il minimo comune denominatore è il dolore: tutte conducono dolore.
Neuman dice in un’intervista che
l’idea centrale del romanzo era, da un lato, esplorare i differenti modi che abbiamo di parlare con noi stessi: l’oralità, il pensiero e la scrittura. Ciascuna delle tre voci del romanzo corrisponde a una di queste maniere di rivolgersi alla nostra coscienza.
September 20, 2017
Τρεις χαρακτήρες συνθέτουν ένα δράμα στο ημιτελές ψηφιδωτό μιας συνηθισμένης οικογένειας.
Ο πατέρας,εξουθενωμένος απο μια ανίατη ασθένεια στο τελικό στάδιο μιλάει..(κατά μόνας) με όνειρα και αναμνήσεις,ηχογραφεί τη φωνητική του ψυχοσύνθεση και αφήνει κληρονομιά στο μέλλον ηχητικά δώρα καρδιάς που θα θυμίζουν την απουσία του.
Ο μικρός γιός,κύριος κληρονόμος των κατασκευασμένων αναμνήσεων και συμβουλών του πατέρα του,σκέφτεται..(κατά μόνας)με την παιδική λιτότητα σε τόσο πλούσιες σε θλίψη καταστάσεις,μας αφηγείται μέσω των σκέψεων του πως είναι το χάδι της έλλειψης και του αποχωρισμού.
Πως είναι να αγαπάς τον πατέρα που γνώρισες και έχασες νωρίς και τον άλλον που φαντάζεσαι ότι συνεχίζει να'ναι πλάι σου για πάντα.
Ποιον αγαπάς περισσότερο;
Ποιον χρειάζεσαι λιγότερο;
Αυτός που θυμάσαι θα υπήρχε για πάντα..
Αυτός που σκέφτεσαι δεν θα υπάρξει ποτέ.
Πρωταγωνίστρια της ιστορίας μας η μητέρα. Εκπροσωπεί τη γνήσια γυναικεία υπόσταση και φύση.
Η μητέρα γράφει... (κατά μόνας)μέσα απο το ημερολόγιο της πολεμάει την απώλεια της μνήμης. Καταδικάζει το πένθος. Βυθίζεται και βασανίζεται απο την απώλεια και με κάθε ειλικρίνεια εκφράζει κάθε ενοχή της για λυτρωτικές σαρκικές απολαύσεις.
Πονάει,υποφέρει και διαβρώνεται απο το μικρόβιο της αρρώστειας,της πορείας προς το τέλος μιας ζωής, μοναδικής και κοινής, μιας πραγματικότητας κυνικής και σκληρής, μιας διαπίστωσης που δυστυχώς σε κρατάει μακριά απο τον θάνατο αλλά σε αγκαλιάζει για πάντα η σκιά της συνειδητής απώλειας και της ασυνείδητης εγκατάλειψης.
Τρέμει στην ιδέα πως κάποτε θα ξεπεράσει τον αιώνιο χωρισμό ενώ παράλληλα η φύση και η νόηση της χάνουν όλες τις μάχες με τη ζωή που συνεχίζεται και ζητάει λήθη,παρηγοριά και απόλαυση κάθε είδους.
Ένα ιδιαίτερα βαρύ ανάγνωσμα παρά την ολιγοσέλιδη περιεκτικότητα του. Για όποιον έχει βιώσει το χαμό αγαπημένου προσώπου είναι καταθλιπτικό και επίπονο,για όποιον απλά έχει ακούσει για τον πόνο του θανάτου είναι συγκινητικό και στοχαστικό.
Σε γενικές γραμμές είναι ένα ιδιαίτερα γλαφυρό αφήγημα που συνδέει με απόλυτη μαεστρία σχεδόν όλες τις ατομικές αφηρημένες έννοιες που συνθέτουν τη ζωή μας.
Καλή ανάγνωση!!
Πολλούς ασπασμούς!!
Ο πατέρας,εξουθενωμένος απο μια ανίατη ασθένεια στο τελικό στάδιο μιλάει..(κατά μόνας) με όνειρα και αναμνήσεις,ηχογραφεί τη φωνητική του ψυχοσύνθεση και αφήνει κληρονομιά στο μέλλον ηχητικά δώρα καρδιάς που θα θυμίζουν την απουσία του.
Ο μικρός γιός,κύριος κληρονόμος των κατασκευασμένων αναμνήσεων και συμβουλών του πατέρα του,σκέφτεται..(κατά μόνας)με την παιδική λιτότητα σε τόσο πλούσιες σε θλίψη καταστάσεις,μας αφηγείται μέσω των σκέψεων του πως είναι το χάδι της έλλειψης και του αποχωρισμού.
Πως είναι να αγαπάς τον πατέρα που γνώρισες και έχασες νωρίς και τον άλλον που φαντάζεσαι ότι συνεχίζει να'ναι πλάι σου για πάντα.
Ποιον αγαπάς περισσότερο;
Ποιον χρειάζεσαι λιγότερο;
Αυτός που θυμάσαι θα υπήρχε για πάντα..
Αυτός που σκέφτεσαι δεν θα υπάρξει ποτέ.
Πρωταγωνίστρια της ιστορίας μας η μητέρα. Εκπροσωπεί τη γνήσια γυναικεία υπόσταση και φύση.
Η μητέρα γράφει... (κατά μόνας)μέσα απο το ημερολόγιο της πολεμάει την απώλεια της μνήμης. Καταδικάζει το πένθος. Βυθίζεται και βασανίζεται απο την απώλεια και με κάθε ειλικρίνεια εκφράζει κάθε ενοχή της για λυτρωτικές σαρκικές απολαύσεις.
Πονάει,υποφέρει και διαβρώνεται απο το μικρόβιο της αρρώστειας,της πορείας προς το τέλος μιας ζωής, μοναδικής και κοινής, μιας πραγματικότητας κυνικής και σκληρής, μιας διαπίστωσης που δυστυχώς σε κρατάει μακριά απο τον θάνατο αλλά σε αγκαλιάζει για πάντα η σκιά της συνειδητής απώλειας και της ασυνείδητης εγκατάλειψης.
Τρέμει στην ιδέα πως κάποτε θα ξεπεράσει τον αιώνιο χωρισμό ενώ παράλληλα η φύση και η νόηση της χάνουν όλες τις μάχες με τη ζωή που συνεχίζεται και ζητάει λήθη,παρηγοριά και απόλαυση κάθε είδους.
Ένα ιδιαίτερα βαρύ ανάγνωσμα παρά την ολιγοσέλιδη περιεκτικότητα του. Για όποιον έχει βιώσει το χαμό αγαπημένου προσώπου είναι καταθλιπτικό και επίπονο,για όποιον απλά έχει ακούσει για τον πόνο του θανάτου είναι συγκινητικό και στοχαστικό.
Σε γενικές γραμμές είναι ένα ιδιαίτερα γλαφυρό αφήγημα που συνδέει με απόλυτη μαεστρία σχεδόν όλες τις ατομικές αφηρημένες έννοιες που συνθέτουν τη ζωή μας.
Καλή ανάγνωση!!
Πολλούς ασπασμούς!!
July 1, 2021
رواية للكاتب والشاعر الأرجنتيني أندريس نيومان
تحمل الكثير من التأملات والملاحظات عن الحياة والمرض والموت
وتحولات الحياة المفاجئة التي تُغير من نفسية الانسان ونظرته للحياة
تجربة المرض الميؤوس من شفائه تؤثر بشدة على المريض والقريبين منه
الفقد الذي يستدعي الألم والذكريات والتفاصيل المنسية
والتعامل الشخصي مع فكرة الفقد بين المحاولات الأخيرة للمشاركة والاقتراب
وبين الحيرة والهروب والانغماس في المشاعر العبثية المعقدة
يتناوب السرد بين ايلينا وزوجها المريض ماريو وابنهم الصغير ليتو
كل منهم يتحدث بمفرده وكأنه يحادث نفسه, لتكتمل الرواية بحكاياتهم المختلفة
أسلوب نيومان جميل, ويصف بدقة أحوال ومشاعر وأفكار الشخصيات
والترجمة سلسة للمترجمة رحاب وهدان
تحمل الكثير من التأملات والملاحظات عن الحياة والمرض والموت
وتحولات الحياة المفاجئة التي تُغير من نفسية الانسان ونظرته للحياة
تجربة المرض الميؤوس من شفائه تؤثر بشدة على المريض والقريبين منه
الفقد الذي يستدعي الألم والذكريات والتفاصيل المنسية
والتعامل الشخصي مع فكرة الفقد بين المحاولات الأخيرة للمشاركة والاقتراب
وبين الحيرة والهروب والانغماس في المشاعر العبثية المعقدة
يتناوب السرد بين ايلينا وزوجها المريض ماريو وابنهم الصغير ليتو
كل منهم يتحدث بمفرده وكأنه يحادث نفسه, لتكتمل الرواية بحكاياتهم المختلفة
أسلوب نيومان جميل, ويصف بدقة أحوال ومشاعر وأفكار الشخصيات
والترجمة سلسة للمترجمة رحاب وهدان
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May 18, 2023ثلاثة أصوات...ولكنهم يتحدثون بمفردهم عن حياة جمعتهم تتجول ما بين الماضي والحاضر ، ياليت الواقع يمنحنا تلك الفرصة حيث يتحدث كل منا بصوته منفرداً لا يقاطعه صوتٌ آخر ، يقف أمام مرآة ذاته ، يبعثر عنها كل ما هو ضبابي يحول دون مُكاشفتها....
صوت الزوج المريض يصطحب ابنه للمرة الأخيرة فى رحلة ويتبادلا الأحاديث والعناق والضحكات ويتألم الأب لمفارقة ابنه فالموت وشيك ، ولا يتخيل كم لم يبق من الوقت لديه..
صوت الابن فى العاشرة من عمره ، هادئاً ، شارداً وكأنه سيصل الى استنتاج ما لا يصل اليه ابداً....
صوت الزوجة التي كانت تملك أكثر الأصوات ارتباكاً، كم كان مُتذبذباً مُنهزماً ، كانت تعتني بزوجها المريض وقد قامت بخيانته وعندما سيرحل مفارقاً الحياة ، هنا ستعاني خسارة الفقد وتحاول أن تستعيد رشدها....
تراءى لي بأنه احتفاء باللامبالاة ازاء القبح ..فكيف للخيانة ومعاناة ترقب الفقد أن يجتمعا ؟!!
وأخيراً...إن مُعايشة مرض من برفقتك، يغير رؤيتك للحياة ، فإذ بقوس الإتزان الداخلي لديك ما بين أن يتمدد مشدوداً يكاد أن ينفلت ، وما بين أن يرتخي حد إنك ستنزلق إلى هاوية....
وهنيئاً لمن ترنح ولم يسقط.....أجل لم يسقط....
صوت الزوج المريض يصطحب ابنه للمرة الأخيرة فى رحلة ويتبادلا الأحاديث والعناق والضحكات ويتألم الأب لمفارقة ابنه فالموت وشيك ، ولا يتخيل كم لم يبق من الوقت لديه..
صوت الابن فى العاشرة من عمره ، هادئاً ، شارداً وكأنه سيصل الى استنتاج ما لا يصل اليه ابداً....
صوت الزوجة التي كانت تملك أكثر الأصوات ارتباكاً، كم كان مُتذبذباً مُنهزماً ، كانت تعتني بزوجها المريض وقد قامت بخيانته وعندما سيرحل مفارقاً الحياة ، هنا ستعاني خسارة الفقد وتحاول أن تستعيد رشدها....
تراءى لي بأنه احتفاء باللامبالاة ازاء القبح ..فكيف للخيانة ومعاناة ترقب الفقد أن يجتمعا ؟!!
وأخيراً...إن مُعايشة مرض من برفقتك، يغير رؤيتك للحياة ، فإذ بقوس الإتزان الداخلي لديك ما بين أن يتمدد مشدوداً يكاد أن ينفلت ، وما بين أن يرتخي حد إنك ستنزلق إلى هاوية....
وهنيئاً لمن ترنح ولم يسقط.....أجل لم يسقط....
July 17, 2016
Απ'τα βιβλία που δύσκολα προτείνεις σε κάποιον/α αλλά ταυτόχρονα θέλεις να δώσεις σε όλους. Είναι μάλλον το καλύτερο βιβλίο που διάβασα φέτος (μαζί με το Ghostwritten που δεν μπορώ να βγάλω απ'το κεφάλι μου), ένα υπέροχο στοχαστικό μυθιστόρημα που λειτούργει εντυπωσιακά καλά, παρόλο που παίζει με πράγματα που συνήθως είναι παγίδες για τους συγγραφείς.
Ο εμπνευσμένος τίτλος του Κυριακίδη, δείγμα της φοβερής δουλειάς που έχει κάνει, ίσως να αποκρύπτει τη δομή του βιβλίου, αφού οι τρεις μονόλογοι που υπάρχουν εδώ (του Μάριο, του ετοιμοθάνατου πατέρα/συζύγου, του Λίτο, του δεκάχρονου αγοριού και της Ελένα, της απόλυτης πρωταγωνίστριας) αντιπροσωπεύουν τους τρόπους που μιλάμε στον εαυτό μας (εξού και το Talking to Ourselves της αγγλικής έκδοσης): μιλώντας,γράφοντας και μονολογώντας εσωτερικά.
Ο Νέουμαν γράφει ένα κομψοτέχνημα για τον θάνατο, την απώλεια, τη μνήμη αλλά και τη ζωή (μέσω της περίεργης και βασανιστικής σχέσης με το γιατρό του ετοιμοθάνατου Μάριο), διεισδύει εντυπωσιακά στη γλώσσα που επικοινωνούν οι τρεις διαφορετικές προσωπικότητες και προσθέτει υπέροχα τσιτάτα απ'την παγκόσμια λογοτεχνία με έναν απόλυτα επιτυχημένο τρόπο όπως θα νιώσουν όλοι οι βιβλιόφιλοι.
Απ'τα βιβλία που διαβάζεις πολλές φορές σερί και ξέρεις ήδη ότι θα επιστρέφεις όποτε το απαιτήσουν οι περιστ��σεις. Οριακό μεν, αριστούργημα δε.
"Δουλειά, δουλειά. Το μόνο που ξέρω να κάνω. Πρέπει να είμαι αξιολύπητη που σιχαίνομαι τις διακοπές. Τι υπεύθυνο άτομο που είσαι! μου λένε. Να πάνε στο διάολο. Αναζητώ ευθύνες γιατί δεν μπορώ να είμαι υπεύθυνη για τον εαυτό μου. Είναι φορές που σκέφτομαι πως δεν αξίζω να'μαι μητέρα. Είναι φορές που σκέφτομαι πως έκανα παιδί για να μην πέσω απ'το παράθυρο. Είναι φορές που σκέφτομαι πως η αρρώστια εμένα έπρεπε να βρει. Είναι φορές που σκέφτομαι ότι με παίρνουν άγρια. Όσες ξέρουν τι θέλουν, δεν θελούν ποτέ κάτι ενδιαφέρον".
Ο εμπνευσμένος τίτλος του Κυριακίδη, δείγμα της φοβερής δουλειάς που έχει κάνει, ίσως να αποκρύπτει τη δομή του βιβλίου, αφού οι τρεις μονόλογοι που υπάρχουν εδώ (του Μάριο, του ετοιμοθάνατου πατέρα/συζύγου, του Λίτο, του δεκάχρονου αγοριού και της Ελένα, της απόλυτης πρωταγωνίστριας) αντιπροσωπεύουν τους τρόπους που μιλάμε στον εαυτό μας (εξού και το Talking to Ourselves της αγγλικής έκδοσης): μιλώντας,γράφοντας και μονολογώντας εσωτερικά.
Ο Νέουμαν γράφει ένα κομψοτέχνημα για τον θάνατο, την απώλεια, τη μνήμη αλλά και τη ζωή (μέσω της περίεργης και βασανιστικής σχέσης με το γιατρό του ετοιμοθάνατου Μάριο), διεισδύει εντυπωσιακά στη γλώσσα που επικοινωνούν οι τρεις διαφορετικές προσωπικότητες και προσθέτει υπέροχα τσιτάτα απ'την παγκόσμια λογοτεχνία με έναν απόλυτα επιτυχημένο τρόπο όπως θα νιώσουν όλοι οι βιβλιόφιλοι.
Απ'τα βιβλία που διαβάζεις πολλές φορές σερί και ξέρεις ήδη ότι θα επιστρέφεις όποτε το απαιτήσουν οι περιστ��σεις. Οριακό μεν, αριστούργημα δε.
"Δουλειά, δουλειά. Το μόνο που ξέρω να κάνω. Πρέπει να είμαι αξιολύπητη που σιχαίνομαι τις διακοπές. Τι υπεύθυνο άτομο που είσαι! μου λένε. Να πάνε στο διάολο. Αναζητώ ευθύνες γιατί δεν μπορώ να είμαι υπεύθυνη για τον εαυτό μου. Είναι φορές που σκέφτομαι πως δεν αξίζω να'μαι μητέρα. Είναι φορές που σκέφτομαι πως έκανα παιδί για να μην πέσω απ'το παράθυρο. Είναι φορές που σκέφτομαι πως η αρρώστια εμένα έπρεπε να βρει. Είναι φορές που σκέφτομαι ότι με παίρνουν άγρια. Όσες ξέρουν τι θέλουν, δεν θελούν ποτέ κάτι ενδιαφέρον".
July 16, 2018
Η σχέση μου με τη σύγχρονη λογοτεχνία δεν μπορεί να χαρακτηριστεί ιδανική – τουναντίον. Έχοντας τα τελευταία 5 χρόνια δεσμευτεί στην αναπλήρωση των σημαντικών κενών μου όσον αφορά τα "απαραίτητα" έργα λογοτεχνίας, η όποια επαφή μου με βιβλία που γράφτηκαν και εκδόθηκαν τις τελευταίες δεκαετίες είναι τουλάχιστον επιφυλακτική. Ενίοτε κάνω κάποιες εξαιρέσεις στον... Ησυχασμό μου, αφενός για λόγους ποικιλομορφίας και αφετέρου επειδή κάποιο/α άτομα των οποίων την άποψη εμπιστεύομαι μου τα προτείνουν. Τέτοια η περίπτωση του "Κατά μόνας".
Στην ουσία τώρα, το πρώτο μισό σχεδόν (ως την εισαγωγή στο νοσοκομείο) μου φάνηκε αδιάφορο, όπως σε γενικές γραμμές και τα μέρη των μονολόγων του παιδιού και του άντρα. Αυτό που διασώζει το βιβλίο είναι προφανώς εκείνα της γυναίκας (όχι όλα και όχι πάντα) - σελίδες εξαιρετικά δουλεμένες, με γραφή που με έκανε να ξεχαστώ, με εις βάθος ανάλυση, ενδείξεις συγγραφικού ταλέντου που δεν ξέρω (και μάλλον δεν πρόκειται να μάθω) αν έχει εξελιχτεί σε κάτι σημαντικό.
Στα μειονεκτήματα θα συμπεριλάβω τις συνεχείς παραπομπές σε έργα άλλων συγγραφέων, τα οποία λειτουργούν ως fillers και υποβαθμίζουν την προσπάθεια του Neuman, καθότι συχνά αποδεικνύονται πιο ενδιαφέροντα.
Το δεύτερο και σημαντικότερο μειονέκτημα, κατά την άποψή μου, είναι η χρήση του σεξ. Πότε επιτέλους θα μάθουν οι άντρες-συγγραφείς πόσο ενοχλητικό και κλισέ είναι να προβάλλουν τις αυνανιστικές τους φαντασιώσεις στις γυναίκες-ηρωίδες τους; Πραγματικά έχει καταντήσει πολύ κουραστικός αυτού του τύπου ο σεξισμός. Αφήστε τις γυναίκες να μιλήσουν μόνες τους για τη δική τους σεξουαλικότητα, δεν χρειάζονται υποβολείς! Το μόνο ελαφρυντικό είναι η νεαρή ηλικία, η απειρία του συγγραφέα και το γεγονός πως το σεξ πουλάει, οπότε μην περιμένουμε θαύματα.
Συγκεφαλαιώνοντας, να δηλώσω πως εάν ήμουν κάτω των 30 μπορεί να είχα ενθουσιαστεί. Τώρα, στη φάση που είμαι, η αναπόφευκτη σύγκριση με τα έργα των μεγάλων Δημιουργών δεν αφήνει και πολλά περιθώρια. Αυτό όμως είναι καθαρά δικό μου πρόβλημα 😊
Στην ουσία τώρα, το πρώτο μισό σχεδόν (ως την εισαγωγή στο νοσοκομείο) μου φάνηκε αδιάφορο, όπως σε γενικές γραμμές και τα μέρη των μονολόγων του παιδιού και του άντρα. Αυτό που διασώζει το βιβλίο είναι προφανώς εκείνα της γυναίκας (όχι όλα και όχι πάντα) - σελίδες εξαιρετικά δουλεμένες, με γραφή που με έκανε να ξεχαστώ, με εις βάθος ανάλυση, ενδείξεις συγγραφικού ταλέντου που δεν ξέρω (και μάλλον δεν πρόκειται να μάθω) αν έχει εξελιχτεί σε κάτι σημαντικό.
Στα μειονεκτήματα θα συμπεριλάβω τις συνεχείς παραπομπές σε έργα άλλων συγγραφέων, τα οποία λειτουργούν ως fillers και υποβαθμίζουν την προσπάθεια του Neuman, καθότι συχνά αποδεικνύονται πιο ενδιαφέροντα.
Το δεύτερο και σημαντικότερο μειονέκτημα, κατά την άποψή μου, είναι η χρήση του σεξ. Πότε επιτέλους θα μάθουν οι άντρες-συγγραφείς πόσο ενοχλητικό και κλισέ είναι να προβάλλουν τις αυνανιστικές τους φαντασιώσεις στις γυναίκες-ηρωίδες τους; Πραγματικά έχει καταντήσει πολύ κουραστικός αυτού του τύπου ο σεξισμός. Αφήστε τις γυναίκες να μιλήσουν μόνες τους για τη δική τους σεξουαλικότητα, δεν χρειάζονται υποβολείς! Το μόνο ελαφρυντικό είναι η νεαρή ηλικία, η απειρία του συγγραφέα και το γεγονός πως το σεξ πουλάει, οπότε μην περιμένουμε θαύματα.
Συγκεφαλαιώνοντας, να δηλώσω πως εάν ήμουν κάτω των 30 μπορεί να είχα ενθουσιαστεί. Τώρα, στη φάση που είμαι, η αναπόφευκτη σύγκριση με τα έργα των μεγάλων Δημιουργών δεν αφήνει και πολλά περιθώρια. Αυτό όμως είναι καθαρά δικό μου πρόβλημα 😊
January 11, 2014
if you somehow managed to overlook the 2012 translation of andrés neuman's breathtaking traveler of the century (and woe betide all whom continue to do so), you now have two exceptional works of fiction from the young argentine virtuoso demanding your immediate attention.
accolades aplenty have been piling up for neuman since publishing his first novel (the as-yet untranslated bariloche) at the age of 22: he was named to the illustrious bogotá 39 list of outstanding young latin american authors (sharing company with the likes of daniel alarcón, junot díaz, eduardo halfón, santiago roncagliolo, juan gabriel vásquez, and jorge volpi, amongst others) and has been awarded both the alfaguara and spain's national critics prizes - and was twice a finalist for the herralde prize. prestigious honors celebrating an already prodigious output - neuman has authored some twenty works, including five novels, five books of short stories, nine collections of poetry (not including the volume that assembles a decade's worth), a selection of aphorisms and literary essays, and a travel book about latin america. oh, and he translates poetry into spanish. and writes a regular column. and maintains a very popular literary blog (which, unsurprisingly by now, was named one of the best in spanish by an el cultural survey). all of this and yet he's still a few years shy of his 40th birthday.
roberto bolaño, always the veritable critic, arbiter, and champion of literary prowess, in an essay entitled "neuman, touched by grace" (collected in between parentheses), offered the following non-hyperbolic sentiment:
short of the inebriated automobiler which bolaño feared might one day rob us of his wordsmithing savvy, the literature of our adolescent century may well indeed belong to andrés neuman (as well as gonçalo tavares, assuredly).
*translated from the spanish by nick caistor and lorenza garcia
accolades aplenty have been piling up for neuman since publishing his first novel (the as-yet untranslated bariloche) at the age of 22: he was named to the illustrious bogotá 39 list of outstanding young latin american authors (sharing company with the likes of daniel alarcón, junot díaz, eduardo halfón, santiago roncagliolo, juan gabriel vásquez, and jorge volpi, amongst others) and has been awarded both the alfaguara and spain's national critics prizes - and was twice a finalist for the herralde prize. prestigious honors celebrating an already prodigious output - neuman has authored some twenty works, including five novels, five books of short stories, nine collections of poetry (not including the volume that assembles a decade's worth), a selection of aphorisms and literary essays, and a travel book about latin america. oh, and he translates poetry into spanish. and writes a regular column. and maintains a very popular literary blog (which, unsurprisingly by now, was named one of the best in spanish by an el cultural survey). all of this and yet he's still a few years shy of his 40th birthday.
roberto bolaño, always the veritable critic, arbiter, and champion of literary prowess, in an essay entitled "neuman, touched by grace" (collected in between parentheses), offered the following non-hyperbolic sentiment:
among young writers who've already published a first book, neuman may be the youngest of all, and his precocity, which comes studded with lightning bolts and proclamations, isn't his greatest virtue. born in argentina in 1977, but raised in andalusia, andrés neuman is the author of a book of poems, métodos de la noche [night methods], published by hiperión in 1998, and bariloche, an excellent first novel that was a finalist for the most recent herralde prize.talking to ourselves (hablar solos), the second of neuman's books to be rendered into english, could not be more unlike its predecessor in translation - be it thematically or stylistically. whereas traveler of the century was an epic novel of ideas, talking to ourselves is a far more intimate, personal work dealing with loss and mortality. there are no early-19th century self-rearranging german towns or cave-dwelling organ grinders to be found herein, but instead a small family forced to confront a reality teetering precariously upon the cusp of sorrow and uncertainty.
the novel is about a trash collector in buenos aires who works jigsaw puzzles in his spare time. i happened to be on the prize committee and neuman's novel at once enthralled - to use an early twentieth-century term - and hypnotized me. in it, good readers will find something that can be found only in great literature, the kind written by real poets, a literature that dares to venture into the dark with open eyes and that keeps its eyes open no matter what. in principle, this is the most difficult test (also the most difficult exercise and stretch), and on no few occasions neuman pulls it off with frightening ease... when i come across these young writers it makes me want to cry. i don't know whether a drunk driver will run them down some night or whether all of a sudden they'll stop writing. if nothing like this happens, the literature of the twenty-first century will belong to neuman and a few of his blood brothers.
i wonder whether, perhaps without realizing it, we seek out the books we need to read. or whether books themselves, which are intelligent entities, detect their readers and catch their eye. in the end, every book is the i ching. you pick it up, open it and there it is, there you are.set across an ambiguous landscape that appears to encompass both spain and latin america, talking to ourselves transcends geographical borders as easily as it does those of fidelity and compassion. mario, afflicted with a cancer that brings him ever closer to death, sets out on (what he knows to be) a final road trip with his young son, lito. staying behind is mario's wife, elena, heartbroken over her family's impending fate, yet able to find mild comfort within the pages of literature. with mario's illness looming, husband/father, wife/mother, and son are left to make sense of their inevitable realities however best they can - longing for intimacy and release, yet unable to overcome the emotional alienation imposed upon them by imminent dissolution.
"there's a lot of horribleness [she] refuses to countenance," i agree with what helen garner writes in one of her novels, "but it won't just go away." in fact the job of horror is to do the opposite: to resurface. "so somebody else has to sort of live it." by avoiding the subject of death, mario delegates it to me, he kills me a little. "death will not be denied. to try is grandiose." and feeds it. "it drives madness into the soul." like one truck driving into another. "it leaches out virtue." leaves it barren. "and makes a mockery of love." and there are no more clean embraces. here all of us fall ill.told, in turns, from the perspective of each of the three main characters, talking to ourselves is, narratively speaking, a most ambitious effort. alternating between lito, elena, and mario, neuman captures the distinction and nuance of these individual voices - inhabiting their inner worlds (in one form or another) to reveal fears, hopes, misgivings, doubts, and longings. not only is each respective chapter told from the viewpoint of one of the three - each is also conveyed in a different format altogether: lito's excitable, curious, and impatient stream-of-thought expression befitting a 10-year old, elena's ongoing and forthright diary compositions, and mario's series of tape recordings to be left behind for lito after his passing. neuman's stylistic choice works to magnificent effect (however arduous a task it must have been to pull off), as he easily transitions between voices and forms to reveal the thoughts and feelings that seem to so overwhelm each character, despite their inability to share openly with one another.
we all live in an ellipsis.while missing her husband and son terribly (and worrying incessantly about their well-being), elena, per the fragility of her immediate existence, allows herself to be courted by mario's doctor - an affair that first excites, but later disgusts. as she records her daily interactions within her journal, she also discovers parallels within the books she reads (which include, it must be mentioned, the likes of césar aira, margaret atwood, john banville, roberto bolaño, anton chekhov, richard ford, javier marías, lorrie moore, flannery o'connor, kenzaburō ōe, cynthia ozick, virginia woolf, and others), excerpting them in her diary as if to corroborate her own interior state - or, at the least, to help make sense of its ceaseless tumult.
work, work. that's all i know how to do. you have to be very sad to hate vacations. you are so responsible, people tell me. they can go to hell. i look for things to be responsible for because i can't be responsible for myself. sometimes i think i don't deserve to be a mother. sometimes i think i had a child in order to stop myself from jumping out of the window. sometimes i think i should have been the one who got ill. sometimes i think about being fucked hard. women who know what they want never want anything interesting.foolish it would be for the reader to look for answers pertaining to the existential dilemmas of life and love. talking to ourselves considers a host of subjects, not the least of which being death, sickness, caretaking, parenthood and filial responsibility, devotion and infidelity, sex, passion, the duality of pleasure and pain, mourning, dishonesty, individual experience, and the inherent differences between men and women. if neuman's novel seems rich with life, it's not only because his characters and their situations are so well-conceived, but also on account of his story being the stuff that life is so often composed of. to be sure, there are moments of tenderness, joy, and humor to be found throughout the book (especially when narrated by young lito) - but neuman's capacity for unyielding compassion in the face of unflinching circumstance speaks volumes about the depths of his empathy and ability to synthesize through fiction the often unsettling realities and conflicting motivations of mortal existence.
when i see a couple kissing, believing they love one another, believing they will endure, whispering into each other's ear in the name of an instinct to which they give lofty names, when i see them caressing one another with that embarrassing avidness, that expectation of discovering something crucial in the other's skin, when i see their mouths becoming entangled, the exchange of tongues, their freshly showered hair, their unruly hands, fabric rubbing and lifting up the like the most sordid of curtains, the anxious tic of knees bouncing like springs, cheap beds in one-night hotels they will later remember as palaces, when i see two fools expressing their desire with impunity in broad daylight, as though i weren't watching them, it's not merely envy i feel. i also pity them. i pity their rotten future. and i get up and ask for the bill and i smile at them askance, as though i had returned from a war which the two of them have no idea is about to commence.with but a pair of works currently in translation, it is still rather evident that andrés neuman possesses a formidable talent. talking to ourselves, despite its solemnity (tempered though it may be by beauty and bittersweetness), is an exceptional work of considerable emotional breadth. while the story itself may well be dolorous, it radiates with an authenticity that can often be elusive in fiction. there's a vibrancy and liveliness to neuman's writing (as well-evidenced, too, in traveler of the century) that is irresistible. even if one were not captivated by his arresting tale, persuasive characters, or sonorous prose, the impassioned effects of his storytelling are inescapable.
short of the inebriated automobiler which bolaño feared might one day rob us of his wordsmithing savvy, the literature of our adolescent century may well indeed belong to andrés neuman (as well as gonçalo tavares, assuredly).
enjoy life, do you hear?, it's hard work enjoying life, and have patience, not too much, and look after yourself as if you knew you won't always be young, even though you won't know it and that's okay, and have plenty of sex, son, do it for your sake and mine and even your mother's, lots of sex, and if you have children, have them late, and go to the beach in winter, in winter it's better, you'll see, my head hurts yet i feel good, it's hard to explain, and go traveling on your own once in a while, and try not to fall in love all the time, and care about your looks, do you hear me?, men who don't care about their looks are afraid of being queer, and if you are queer, be a man, in short, advice isn't much use, if you disagree with it you don't listen, and if you already agree you don't need it, never trust advice, son, travel agents advise you to go places they've never been, you'll love more when you're old, i thought of my father the moment we got down from that truck, our true love for our parents is posthumous, forgive me for that, i'm already proud of the things you're going to do, i love the way you count the time on your fingers when you set the alarm clock, or do you think i don't see?, you do it secretly, under the covers, so i won't know you have difficulty working it out, i'm going to ask you a favor, whatever happens, whatever age you are, don't stop counting the time on your fingers, promise me, octopus.
*translated from the spanish by nick caistor and lorenza garcia
November 15, 2018
Andrés Neuman - Talking To Ourselves
Talking to each other. Talking to ourselves. One of us is dying, another one is just a child, and the third one lives somewhere between everywhere and nowhere, here and there, now and then. Neuman speaks a language that's as real as pain and as raw as the bodies we inhabit day in, day out.
A book to make you feel uncomfortable in the insufferable comfort its familiar truths provide.
Talking to each other. Talking to ourselves. One of us is dying, another one is just a child, and the third one lives somewhere between everywhere and nowhere, here and there, now and then. Neuman speaks a language that's as real as pain and as raw as the bodies we inhabit day in, day out.
A book to make you feel uncomfortable in the insufferable comfort its familiar truths provide.
March 16, 2018
Three voices in a family drama: Mario, a man dying with cancer, his wife Elena and their ten-year-old son Lito. Mario and Lito set off for a road trip with the truck, which is something Lito has always wanted to do with his father or his uncle and frequently asked for, while Elena stays at home.
The story of the trip and about how Elena coped with her life is narrated through their monologues. I loved those voices, Andres Neuman did a great job creating them unique, realistic and authentic. It is impressive how he as a man gave the voice to his complex, flawed and contemplative female narrator. Elena is a reader and she quotes from a long list of novels, and although I haven’t read or heard of all the authors and their works, I find this very special and rewarding/comforting in the heavy and poignant novel. My only negative is that I’ve read it in an odd time, but it’s my lack, as it is now I need to pick up only light reads.
The story of the trip and about how Elena coped with her life is narrated through their monologues. I loved those voices, Andres Neuman did a great job creating them unique, realistic and authentic. It is impressive how he as a man gave the voice to his complex, flawed and contemplative female narrator. Elena is a reader and she quotes from a long list of novels, and although I haven’t read or heard of all the authors and their works, I find this very special and rewarding/comforting in the heavy and poignant novel. My only negative is that I’ve read it in an odd time, but it’s my lack, as it is now I need to pick up only light reads.
November 26, 2017
List lovers! Look what I stumbled upon at the end of this brief meditation on death, family, and honesty...
A Note on Translations
There follows a list of the works cited by Elena in this novel. The translation of passages originally published in languages other than English was done by Nick Caistor and Lorenza Garcia. If writing allows us to talk to ourselves, reading and translating are very much like having a conversation.
—A.N.
Aira, César. Yo era una mujer casada. Santiago de Chile: Cuneta, 2010.
Ariès, Philippe. “La mort interdite.” In Essais sur l’histoire de la mort en Occident du Moyen Âge à nos jours. Paris: Seuil, 1975.
Atwood, Margaret. “Let Us Now Praise Stupid Women.” In Good Bones. Toronto: Coach House Press, 1992.
Banville, John. The Sea. London: Picador, 2005.
Bobin, Christian. Autoportrait au radiateur. Paris: Gallimard, 1997.
——. La part manquante. Paris: Gallimard, 1989.
Bolaño, Roberto. “Literatura + enfermedad = enfermedad.” In El gaucho insufrible. Barcelona: Anagrama, 2003.
Chekhov, Anton, and Olga Knipper. Letter from Olga, August 19, 1904. In Correspondencia 1899–1904. Edited and translated from the Russian into Spanish by Paul Viejo. Madrid: Páginas de Espuma, 2008.
Ford, Richard. The Sportswriter. New York: Vintage, 1986.
Garner, Helen. The Spare Room. Melbourne: Text Publishing, 2008.
Gorer, Geoffrey. Death, Grief, and Mourning in Contemporary Britain. London: Cresset Press, 1965.
Gracia Armendáriz, Juan. Diario del hombre pálido. Madrid: Demipage, 2010.
Gwyn, Richard. The Vagabond’s Breakfast. Aberystwyth (U.K.): Alcemi, 2011.
Levrero, Mario. La novela luminosa. Montevideo: Alfaguara, 2005.
Marías, Javier. Los enamoramientos. Madrid: Alfaguara, 2011.
Matute, Ana María. Los niños tontos. Barcelona: Destino, 1956.
Moore, Lorrie. “People Like That Are the Only People Here: Canonical Babbling in Peed Onk.” In Birds of America. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1998.
Navarro, Justo. La casa del padre. Barcelona: Anagrama, 1994.
Némirovsky, Irène. Les Mouches d’automne. Paris: Grasset, 1931.
O’Connor, Flannery. “The Enduring Chill.” In Everything That Rises Must Converge. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1965.
Ōe, Kenzaburō. A Personal Matter. New York: Grove Press, 1969; Una cuestión personal. Barcelona: Anagrama, 1989.
Ozick, Cynthia. “Puttermesser: Her Work History, Her Ancestry, Her After-life.” In The Puttermesser Papers. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1997.
Uhart, Hebe. “¿Cómo vuelvo?” In Del cielo a casa. Buenos Aires: Adriana Hidalgo editora, 2003.
Woolf, Virginia. On Being Ill. London: Hogarth Press, 1930.
A Note on Translations
There follows a list of the works cited by Elena in this novel. The translation of passages originally published in languages other than English was done by Nick Caistor and Lorenza Garcia. If writing allows us to talk to ourselves, reading and translating are very much like having a conversation.
—A.N.
Aira, César. Yo era una mujer casada. Santiago de Chile: Cuneta, 2010.
Ariès, Philippe. “La mort interdite.” In Essais sur l’histoire de la mort en Occident du Moyen Âge à nos jours. Paris: Seuil, 1975.
Atwood, Margaret. “Let Us Now Praise Stupid Women.” In Good Bones. Toronto: Coach House Press, 1992.
Banville, John. The Sea. London: Picador, 2005.
Bobin, Christian. Autoportrait au radiateur. Paris: Gallimard, 1997.
——. La part manquante. Paris: Gallimard, 1989.
Bolaño, Roberto. “Literatura + enfermedad = enfermedad.” In El gaucho insufrible. Barcelona: Anagrama, 2003.
Chekhov, Anton, and Olga Knipper. Letter from Olga, August 19, 1904. In Correspondencia 1899–1904. Edited and translated from the Russian into Spanish by Paul Viejo. Madrid: Páginas de Espuma, 2008.
Ford, Richard. The Sportswriter. New York: Vintage, 1986.
Garner, Helen. The Spare Room. Melbourne: Text Publishing, 2008.
Gorer, Geoffrey. Death, Grief, and Mourning in Contemporary Britain. London: Cresset Press, 1965.
Gracia Armendáriz, Juan. Diario del hombre pálido. Madrid: Demipage, 2010.
Gwyn, Richard. The Vagabond’s Breakfast. Aberystwyth (U.K.): Alcemi, 2011.
Levrero, Mario. La novela luminosa. Montevideo: Alfaguara, 2005.
Marías, Javier. Los enamoramientos. Madrid: Alfaguara, 2011.
Matute, Ana María. Los niños tontos. Barcelona: Destino, 1956.
Moore, Lorrie. “People Like That Are the Only People Here: Canonical Babbling in Peed Onk.” In Birds of America. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1998.
Navarro, Justo. La casa del padre. Barcelona: Anagrama, 1994.
Némirovsky, Irène. Les Mouches d’automne. Paris: Grasset, 1931.
O’Connor, Flannery. “The Enduring Chill.” In Everything That Rises Must Converge. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1965.
Ōe, Kenzaburō. A Personal Matter. New York: Grove Press, 1969; Una cuestión personal. Barcelona: Anagrama, 1989.
Ozick, Cynthia. “Puttermesser: Her Work History, Her Ancestry, Her After-life.” In The Puttermesser Papers. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1997.
Uhart, Hebe. “¿Cómo vuelvo?” In Del cielo a casa. Buenos Aires: Adriana Hidalgo editora, 2003.
Woolf, Virginia. On Being Ill. London: Hogarth Press, 1930.
June 15, 2018
Rijetko plačem uz knjige, skoro nikad. Plaču nisam sklona, ni uz knjigu, ni bez knjige.
Čak su mi ljudi koji plaču čitajući knjigu uvijek bili pomalo čudni. Izgleda da zalazim u te neke godine koje kupe svašta i trebaju neki ventil gdje bi "to" izašlo. Izgleda da me riječi pogađaju više nego ikad. Izgleda da sudbine i pročitane priče, živote, fiktivne ili ne, osjećam kao da su moj vlastiti. I tu dolazimo do Neumana, "mog" Argentinca i moje, možda čak i prve "knjiške" suze.
Jedva sam čekala da zatvorim knjigu, i istom jačinom sam je nastavljala čitati.
Tema-bolest, opraštanje i smrt. Na prvu sam odbila čitanje, vjerovatno je ne bih ni pročitala da se nije radilo o pisacu iz Argentine. I tu me uhvatio u zamku.
Kakve riječi, kakvo ogoljenje duše, bez trunke patetike ili sažaljenja, ova knjiga izvači neke čudne osjećaje za koje kao nisi svjestan da imaš, a tu su.
Radi se o tri ispovijesti (razgovora)- žena, muž i sin, i o načinu na koji se svako od njih bori sa saznanjem da otac boluje od neizlječive bolesti, i da je svaki događaj, dodir ili nešto tako obično kao uzdaj, možda i zadnji, ukraden od života. Još jednom- bez pretjerivanja, u ovoj knjizi nema patetike ni jadikovanja. Ovo je ogoljenje duše do srži, do kostiju. Ono što me posebno oduševilo je način na koji je Neuman uspio da "bude" tri različite osobe. Dok sam čitala Eleninu ispovijest, nisam mogla vjerovati da je njene misli napisao muškarac. Ušao je u dušu bolesnog muškarca, očajne žene (u svoj snazi njenog očaja) i desetogodišnjeg djeteta koji svijet može da vidi samo i isključivo na svoj nevini način. Roman je čista katarza..
Čak su mi ljudi koji plaču čitajući knjigu uvijek bili pomalo čudni. Izgleda da zalazim u te neke godine koje kupe svašta i trebaju neki ventil gdje bi "to" izašlo. Izgleda da me riječi pogađaju više nego ikad. Izgleda da sudbine i pročitane priče, živote, fiktivne ili ne, osjećam kao da su moj vlastiti. I tu dolazimo do Neumana, "mog" Argentinca i moje, možda čak i prve "knjiške" suze.
Jedva sam čekala da zatvorim knjigu, i istom jačinom sam je nastavljala čitati.
Tema-bolest, opraštanje i smrt. Na prvu sam odbila čitanje, vjerovatno je ne bih ni pročitala da se nije radilo o pisacu iz Argentine. I tu me uhvatio u zamku.
Kakve riječi, kakvo ogoljenje duše, bez trunke patetike ili sažaljenja, ova knjiga izvači neke čudne osjećaje za koje kao nisi svjestan da imaš, a tu su.
Radi se o tri ispovijesti (razgovora)- žena, muž i sin, i o načinu na koji se svako od njih bori sa saznanjem da otac boluje od neizlječive bolesti, i da je svaki događaj, dodir ili nešto tako obično kao uzdaj, možda i zadnji, ukraden od života. Još jednom- bez pretjerivanja, u ovoj knjizi nema patetike ni jadikovanja. Ovo je ogoljenje duše do srži, do kostiju. Ono što me posebno oduševilo je način na koji je Neuman uspio da "bude" tri različite osobe. Dok sam čitala Eleninu ispovijest, nisam mogla vjerovati da je njene misli napisao muškarac. Ušao je u dušu bolesnog muškarca, očajne žene (u svoj snazi njenog očaja) i desetogodišnjeg djeteta koji svijet može da vidi samo i isključivo na svoj nevini način. Roman je čista katarza..
February 11, 2016
Ωραίο βιβλίο, με πολύ ωραίο λόγο, διαβάζεται νεράκι...
Απλά για μένα ήταν πολύ...θεωρούσα ότι αντέχω τα βιβλία με θέμα το θάνατο και το πένθος αλλά μου έπεσε βαρύ. Επίσης δε μπορώ να πω ότι ταυτίστηκα με τους- καλογραμμένους- ήρωες και δε κατάλαβα ποιος ήταν ο στόχος του συγγραφέα. Ίσως απλά να χρειάζομαι περισσότερες πληροφορίες.
Μου άρεσε που είχε πολλές αναφορές σε λογοτεχνικά βιβλία.Οι μονόλογοι των ηρώων ήταν καταιγιστικοί.
Απλά για μένα ήταν πολύ...θεωρούσα ότι αντέχω τα βιβλία με θέμα το θάνατο και το πένθος αλλά μου έπεσε βαρύ. Επίσης δε μπορώ να πω ότι ταυτίστηκα με τους- καλογραμμένους- ήρωες και δε κατάλαβα ποιος ήταν ο στόχος του συγγραφέα. Ίσως απλά να χρειάζομαι περισσότερες πληροφορίες.
Μου άρεσε που είχε πολλές αναφορές σε λογοτεχνικά βιβλία.Οι μονόλογοι των ηρώων ήταν καταιγιστικοί.
May 1, 2018
Tri glasa, tri toka svesti , tri isprepletene sudbine koje pokušavaju da se izbore sa realnošću, svaka na svoj način.
Priča o bolesti , smrti i posledicama koje ostavljaju na one koji ostaju.
Knjiga se dotiče odličnih pitanja i ide protiv uvreženih normativa ponašanja posebno kroz monologe Elene, supruge koja je sama po sebi dekonstrukcija onoga što se od osobe očekuje.
Moj problem s knjigom je što u suštini ostavlja utisak jedne veštačke, površne tvorevine izgrađene na premisama dobrih ideja ali i slabom naracijom.
Naracija koja protrčava ali ne zadire zaista dubinski u srž .
Povremeno se promalja odlična misao koja bi da se razvije ali nema gde, biva sasečena.
Ne uzimam to nužno za zlo, u pitanju je roman toka misli, ne traktat ali ne mogu a da se ne osetim razočarano – pogotovo nakon nadasve preuveličanih hvalospeva.
Svakako preporuka – mislim da je ne bi trebalo preskočiti.Verujem da bi svako mogao ponešto izvući iz ove knjige.
Priča o bolesti , smrti i posledicama koje ostavljaju na one koji ostaju.
Knjiga se dotiče odličnih pitanja i ide protiv uvreženih normativa ponašanja posebno kroz monologe Elene, supruge koja je sama po sebi dekonstrukcija onoga što se od osobe očekuje.
Moj problem s knjigom je što u suštini ostavlja utisak jedne veštačke, površne tvorevine izgrađene na premisama dobrih ideja ali i slabom naracijom.
Naracija koja protrčava ali ne zadire zaista dubinski u srž .
Povremeno se promalja odlična misao koja bi da se razvije ali nema gde, biva sasečena.
Ne uzimam to nužno za zlo, u pitanju je roman toka misli, ne traktat ali ne mogu a da se ne osetim razočarano – pogotovo nakon nadasve preuveličanih hvalospeva.
Svakako preporuka – mislim da je ne bi trebalo preskočiti.Verujem da bi svako mogao ponešto izvući iz ove knjige.
July 14, 2020
La enfermedad y la pérdida contada desde la perspectiva de tres miembros de la familia. Conmovedora y sorprendente.
April 14, 2018
Yalnız Konuşmalar, 1977 doğumlu Arjantinli yazar Andres Neuman’ın Türkçe’ye çevirilen ilk kitabıymış. Üç ayrı kahramanın dilinden anlatılan bir aile dramının hikayesi.
Baba Mario ölümcül hasta ve hastalığını gizledikleri 10 yaşındaki oğlu Lito’ya ölümünden önce baba-oğul yaptıkları bir seyahatle son bir hatıra yaşatmak istiyor. Hissettiklerini, oğlunun sonradan dinlemesi için kaydediyor. Eşi Elena ise, Mario’nun hastalığıyla ilgilenmesinin getirdiği fiziki ve psikolojik yükle, eşinin gözleri önünde giderek erimesinin üzerinde yarattığı acıyla başa çıkmaya çalışıyor. Bu süreçte eşinin doktoru ile aykırı bir cinsellik içeren bir macera da yaşıyor. Lito ise tipik bir modern zamanlar çocuğu.
Kitap boyunca anlatıcılar bu üç karakter arasında değişiyor, bunların monologlarından oluşuyor roman. Güçlü başlayıp sonradan biraz istimini kaybediyor. Bunu özellikle Elena’nın anlatıcı olduğu bölümlerde hissettim; Mario ve Lito’nun anlatıcı olduğu bölümlere kıyasla, daha kitabi, yer yer biraz yapay veya zorlama geldi. Sıkı bir okur olan Elena’nın, başta ilgi uyandıran, okuduğu yazarlardan (Marias, Bolano gibi sıkı isimlere rağmen) yaptığı alıntılar, bir süre sonra batmaya başlıyor. Belki kıvamında tutulsa aynı etki korunabilirdi. Tabii, ölümcül hasta olan eşini doktoruyla bir sado-mazohist ilişki içinde aldatması da kitabın ilginç yönlerinden. Yargılamak kolay böyle bir ilişkiyi ama insanın ruhunun karmaşıklığını da dikkate almanızı sağlıyor yazar bu kısımlarda.
Hastalık, kayıp duygusu kitabın ana izleklerinden. İçinizi acıtıyor okurken. Bahsettiğim eksikliklerine rağmen yine de dikkate değer bir roman.
Çeviri de fena değil. Yazarın sade üslubu, genelde kısa cümleler tercih etmesi çevirmenin işini kolaylaştırmış sanırım.
Baba Mario ölümcül hasta ve hastalığını gizledikleri 10 yaşındaki oğlu Lito’ya ölümünden önce baba-oğul yaptıkları bir seyahatle son bir hatıra yaşatmak istiyor. Hissettiklerini, oğlunun sonradan dinlemesi için kaydediyor. Eşi Elena ise, Mario’nun hastalığıyla ilgilenmesinin getirdiği fiziki ve psikolojik yükle, eşinin gözleri önünde giderek erimesinin üzerinde yarattığı acıyla başa çıkmaya çalışıyor. Bu süreçte eşinin doktoru ile aykırı bir cinsellik içeren bir macera da yaşıyor. Lito ise tipik bir modern zamanlar çocuğu.
Kitap boyunca anlatıcılar bu üç karakter arasında değişiyor, bunların monologlarından oluşuyor roman. Güçlü başlayıp sonradan biraz istimini kaybediyor. Bunu özellikle Elena’nın anlatıcı olduğu bölümlerde hissettim; Mario ve Lito’nun anlatıcı olduğu bölümlere kıyasla, daha kitabi, yer yer biraz yapay veya zorlama geldi. Sıkı bir okur olan Elena’nın, başta ilgi uyandıran, okuduğu yazarlardan (Marias, Bolano gibi sıkı isimlere rağmen) yaptığı alıntılar, bir süre sonra batmaya başlıyor. Belki kıvamında tutulsa aynı etki korunabilirdi. Tabii, ölümcül hasta olan eşini doktoruyla bir sado-mazohist ilişki içinde aldatması da kitabın ilginç yönlerinden. Yargılamak kolay böyle bir ilişkiyi ama insanın ruhunun karmaşıklığını da dikkate almanızı sağlıyor yazar bu kısımlarda.
Hastalık, kayıp duygusu kitabın ana izleklerinden. İçinizi acıtıyor okurken. Bahsettiğim eksikliklerine rağmen yine de dikkate değer bir roman.
Çeviri de fena değil. Yazarın sade üslubu, genelde kısa cümleler tercih etmesi çevirmenin işini kolaylaştırmış sanırım.
August 6, 2017
Vrlo, vrlo potresna knjiga. Zanimljivo je to što se radnja prikazuje iz perspektive glavnih junaka, majke, oca i sina (žene, muža i djeteta), tako da imamo i mješavinu različitih stilova (mada, možda ne i dovoljno istaknutu tu samu različitost), ali to i stepen potresnosti (koji je gotovo neizbježan pri tematizocanju nečije bolesti i smrti) ostale su nekako jedine upečatljive stvari ovdje.
October 4, 2015
4,5. Σχεδόν 5. Κάτι έλειπε για το 5. Ή, ίσως, κάτι περίσσευε.
July 1, 2016
Μερικά βιβλία δεν τα βρίσκεις, σε βρίσκουν. Και χτυπάνε φλέβα.
June 6, 2022
Η ιστορία μιας οικογένειας ειπωμένη από τρεις διαφορετικές πλευρές Της μητέρας , του πατέρα και του γιου Πολύ ρεαλιστικό βιβλίο ωραία δοσμένο από το συγγραφέα τα κομμάτια του πατέρα και του γιου υπολείπονται πολύ όμως σε σχέση με αυτά της πρωταγωνίστριας μητέρας
February 5, 2018
Andrea Neuman is an Argentinian born Spanish author. I am going to consider him Argentinian :) Because I haven't read any Argentinian author other than Jorge Luis Borges. I loved the premise of this book, 'Talking to Ourselves', and so I thought I will read it.
'Talking to Ourselves' is the story of a family. There is the father, the mother and their ten year old son. The son, Lito, keeps asking the father, Mario, whether he can go on a road trip with his uncle, when his uncle takes out the truck and drives long distance to make deliveries to customers. Mario keeps denying that request, because Elena, the mother is against it. But when Lito, tries it one more time, Mario agrees. When Elena protests, Mario pulls her into the next room, they have a long heated conversation and after that she agrees to the trip. Lito and Mario leave on the road trip while Elena stays at home. We then discover that Mario has a terminal health condition, and as he wants to leave his son with a lasting final memory, he agrees to this trip. And Elena protests, because she is not sure Mario should be going on this trip with his condition and she is also not sure Mario will return from this trip. Lito, of course, doesn't know any of this. So father and son go on this trip and mother stays home and we hear the story through their respective voices - on the son's fascination with the trip and the new things he discovers, the things the dad wants to tell the son, and the way the mother copes with their absence and with the impending doom.
I loved the three narrators of the story - they were different and unique. My favourite was Lito - his narrative voice was charming and authentic, and made me remember my ten year old self. The truck that they are travelling in is called Pedro and the observations that Lito makes on Pedro are beautiful to read and warm our heart.
For example, this sentence :
"The streets are empty. The only thing moving is Pedro."
And this one :
"We leave Pedro under some trees so he doesn't get hot."
And this one :
"Wow!, awesome!, Pedro's super fast even though he's big!"
And this one :
"Sometimes we pass other trucks. We say hello turning Pedro's headlights on and off."
In the charming voice of this child, Pedro becomes more than a truck and almost a human being with a personality.
There is a place where Lito discovers that maybe he can manipulate the weather. Here is how it goes :
"...and then it happens again. The sky clouds over. All at once. First I thought it was a fluke. No. No way. I've done loads of tests. And it works. If I concentrate really hard, the weather changes. I don't know who has the power. Pedro or me. But it's true. Maybe that's why they gave the truck that name. Wasn't he the saint who carried around the keys of heaven? I was worried that Dad might laugh at me and all that. I know him so well. I'm glad he takes me much more seriously now. That's the good thing about being ten and sharing a truck. So I told him about my discovery. Dad tested it too. And he saw it was true.
It depends on my mood. If everything's okay, it's sunny. If I get bored, it clouds over a bit. When I'm restless, it gets windy. If I get angry and cry, it rains."
It is so incredibly beautiful to see the world through the eyes of a ten year old child.
Elena's narrative voice was fascinating. She comes through as a complex, flawed, beautiful person. The way she copes with the impending tragedy in her life is by reading books, trying to find nuggets of wisdom in them which will help her cope. And then, one day, she meets her husband Mario's doctor to discuss Mario's health condition with him and before long, she starts having an affair with him. She feels guilty about it - cheating on her husband when he has a terminal health condition - but she can't resist it. Elena's narrations have some of the most beautiful, contemplative passages in the story. Her thoughts on life, the passages from books she quotes and how she finds them applying to her current situation - they are a pleasure to read. I am sharing below some of my favourite passages from Elena's narration.
"At least they were thoughtful enough to send me two messages. Mario's strikes the right note. Concise without being evasive. Affectionate without sounding sentimental. He still knows how to treat me, when he wants. That's what made me fall in love with him : his ability to handle silences as well as words. Some men are brilliant talkers, I've met many like that. But almost none of them know when to be silent. Most of my female friends confuse the tough guys with the silent types. I think that's a movie myth. The worst examples of male aggression I've come across have been intolerably verbal. At full volume."
"Lito sent me a wonderful e-mail from Salto Grande. With his comma-free sentences, his strange spelling. I miss him as never before, in a way that feels more like physical pain than affection. I feel ransacked inside. As though all the energy I normally spend on my adorable and unruly son had been extinguished due to the absence of any recipient. People who don't have kids think they suck you dry (which they do, I swear), but they don't realize that this energy, which our kids guzzle down like water from a canteen, is the exact same one we stole from them. It is like a two-way circuit. Without Lito here I work less but get more tired."
"My parents have always believed that things are less frightening when they are fine. Not me. When things are going fine, I think they are about to get worse and I feel even more scared."
""It is a commonly held idea," I protest through a novel by Javier Marias, "that what has happened should be less painful to us than what is happening, or that things are easier to bear when they are over with," and it is the opposite : when things are happening we have to deal with them, and the anaesthetic comes precisely from dealing with them."
Mario's narrative voice is interesting and adequate. I can't just ignore him and so here are a couple of passages from his narration that I liked.
"...you know what it looks like?, the dawn, I mean?, an insult, that's what it looks like to me, when I was young I was a night owl, I liked doing things while everyone was asleep, I felt untouchable, as you get older you become a lark, you start to worry about being late for things, night owls think they're stealing a march on everything, but the moment they wake up they're already running late, since I got sick I don't like the morning so much, it's, I don't know, too loaded with expectations, and the silence of the night scares me, I prefer the afternoon now, it's less demanding, so I'm watching the sun go down, and I start to wonder, you see, where, where the hell does beauty come from?, not from things, that's for sure,"
"that's the weird thing about drugs, the ones that supposedly cure you destroy you on the inside, and the ones that supposedly aren't the cure make you feel like a person again, does that mean you have to stop feeling like a person in order to get better?, maybe that's why for so many of us it doesn't work, because we won't let the poison in completely."
I loved 'Talking to Ourselves'. It is a beautiful, charming, poignant and sometimes heartbreaking story told through three authentic narrative voices. I loved all the three voices and the insights they shared. I can't wait to read my next Andrés Neuman book. His 'Traveller of the Century' is acclaimed and I am hoping to read it soon.
Have you read 'Talking to Ourselves'? What do you think about it?
'Talking to Ourselves' is the story of a family. There is the father, the mother and their ten year old son. The son, Lito, keeps asking the father, Mario, whether he can go on a road trip with his uncle, when his uncle takes out the truck and drives long distance to make deliveries to customers. Mario keeps denying that request, because Elena, the mother is against it. But when Lito, tries it one more time, Mario agrees. When Elena protests, Mario pulls her into the next room, they have a long heated conversation and after that she agrees to the trip. Lito and Mario leave on the road trip while Elena stays at home. We then discover that Mario has a terminal health condition, and as he wants to leave his son with a lasting final memory, he agrees to this trip. And Elena protests, because she is not sure Mario should be going on this trip with his condition and she is also not sure Mario will return from this trip. Lito, of course, doesn't know any of this. So father and son go on this trip and mother stays home and we hear the story through their respective voices - on the son's fascination with the trip and the new things he discovers, the things the dad wants to tell the son, and the way the mother copes with their absence and with the impending doom.
I loved the three narrators of the story - they were different and unique. My favourite was Lito - his narrative voice was charming and authentic, and made me remember my ten year old self. The truck that they are travelling in is called Pedro and the observations that Lito makes on Pedro are beautiful to read and warm our heart.
For example, this sentence :
"The streets are empty. The only thing moving is Pedro."
And this one :
"We leave Pedro under some trees so he doesn't get hot."
And this one :
"Wow!, awesome!, Pedro's super fast even though he's big!"
And this one :
"Sometimes we pass other trucks. We say hello turning Pedro's headlights on and off."
In the charming voice of this child, Pedro becomes more than a truck and almost a human being with a personality.
There is a place where Lito discovers that maybe he can manipulate the weather. Here is how it goes :
"...and then it happens again. The sky clouds over. All at once. First I thought it was a fluke. No. No way. I've done loads of tests. And it works. If I concentrate really hard, the weather changes. I don't know who has the power. Pedro or me. But it's true. Maybe that's why they gave the truck that name. Wasn't he the saint who carried around the keys of heaven? I was worried that Dad might laugh at me and all that. I know him so well. I'm glad he takes me much more seriously now. That's the good thing about being ten and sharing a truck. So I told him about my discovery. Dad tested it too. And he saw it was true.
It depends on my mood. If everything's okay, it's sunny. If I get bored, it clouds over a bit. When I'm restless, it gets windy. If I get angry and cry, it rains."
It is so incredibly beautiful to see the world through the eyes of a ten year old child.
Elena's narrative voice was fascinating. She comes through as a complex, flawed, beautiful person. The way she copes with the impending tragedy in her life is by reading books, trying to find nuggets of wisdom in them which will help her cope. And then, one day, she meets her husband Mario's doctor to discuss Mario's health condition with him and before long, she starts having an affair with him. She feels guilty about it - cheating on her husband when he has a terminal health condition - but she can't resist it. Elena's narrations have some of the most beautiful, contemplative passages in the story. Her thoughts on life, the passages from books she quotes and how she finds them applying to her current situation - they are a pleasure to read. I am sharing below some of my favourite passages from Elena's narration.
"At least they were thoughtful enough to send me two messages. Mario's strikes the right note. Concise without being evasive. Affectionate without sounding sentimental. He still knows how to treat me, when he wants. That's what made me fall in love with him : his ability to handle silences as well as words. Some men are brilliant talkers, I've met many like that. But almost none of them know when to be silent. Most of my female friends confuse the tough guys with the silent types. I think that's a movie myth. The worst examples of male aggression I've come across have been intolerably verbal. At full volume."
"Lito sent me a wonderful e-mail from Salto Grande. With his comma-free sentences, his strange spelling. I miss him as never before, in a way that feels more like physical pain than affection. I feel ransacked inside. As though all the energy I normally spend on my adorable and unruly son had been extinguished due to the absence of any recipient. People who don't have kids think they suck you dry (which they do, I swear), but they don't realize that this energy, which our kids guzzle down like water from a canteen, is the exact same one we stole from them. It is like a two-way circuit. Without Lito here I work less but get more tired."
"My parents have always believed that things are less frightening when they are fine. Not me. When things are going fine, I think they are about to get worse and I feel even more scared."
""It is a commonly held idea," I protest through a novel by Javier Marias, "that what has happened should be less painful to us than what is happening, or that things are easier to bear when they are over with," and it is the opposite : when things are happening we have to deal with them, and the anaesthetic comes precisely from dealing with them."
Mario's narrative voice is interesting and adequate. I can't just ignore him and so here are a couple of passages from his narration that I liked.
"...you know what it looks like?, the dawn, I mean?, an insult, that's what it looks like to me, when I was young I was a night owl, I liked doing things while everyone was asleep, I felt untouchable, as you get older you become a lark, you start to worry about being late for things, night owls think they're stealing a march on everything, but the moment they wake up they're already running late, since I got sick I don't like the morning so much, it's, I don't know, too loaded with expectations, and the silence of the night scares me, I prefer the afternoon now, it's less demanding, so I'm watching the sun go down, and I start to wonder, you see, where, where the hell does beauty come from?, not from things, that's for sure,"
"that's the weird thing about drugs, the ones that supposedly cure you destroy you on the inside, and the ones that supposedly aren't the cure make you feel like a person again, does that mean you have to stop feeling like a person in order to get better?, maybe that's why for so many of us it doesn't work, because we won't let the poison in completely."
I loved 'Talking to Ourselves'. It is a beautiful, charming, poignant and sometimes heartbreaking story told through three authentic narrative voices. I loved all the three voices and the insights they shared. I can't wait to read my next Andrés Neuman book. His 'Traveller of the Century' is acclaimed and I am hoping to read it soon.
Have you read 'Talking to Ourselves'? What do you think about it?
December 6, 2020
La literatura está poblada de romance y fantasía, los géneros más producidos y consumidos, los demás tienen un lugar residual. En menor número encontramos textos que hablan de la muerte y la enfermedad; si comparamos, no son tantas las historias que nos recuerdan nuestra finitud. Son menos porque es mejor no anticiparse al dolor, porque el de la enfermedad es otro lenguaje, uno insondable rozado por privilegiadas plumas.
Andrés Neuman tiene el tacto justo que requiere hablar de una experiencia límite y del viacrucis que supone el cáncer terminal. Posee la sensibilidad para traducir el dolor sin caer en una morbosa exposición. Es una belleza melancólica la que recorre las páginas de Hablar solos, una franqueza necesaria.
Las voces que hablan lo hacen con un tono inconfundible y propio, se leen como amigos que se confiesan, son tres: Mario, quien está muriendo y cuyas inquietudes giran alrededor de su hijo, los últimos días se dedica a fabricarle recuerdos; Lito, con la inocencia del que no sabe y del que no ha sido tocado por la tragedia, narra el día a día con su padre en un primer y último viaje por carretera; Finalmente, Helena, el personaje más interesante, desborda sinceridad al despojarse de la máscara de esposa abnegada, es la cara de la cuidadora hastiada, de la que quiere y no, de la que ama y odia, de la que entrega y renuncia.
A su manera, los tres nos llevan de la mano por los linderos de la muerte, nos enseñan el sabor de las despedidas y la dureza de los adioses definitivos. Estos entrañables personajes develan lo bello e implacable del final. Un texto muy recomendado de Andrés Neuman.
Andrés Neuman tiene el tacto justo que requiere hablar de una experiencia límite y del viacrucis que supone el cáncer terminal. Posee la sensibilidad para traducir el dolor sin caer en una morbosa exposición. Es una belleza melancólica la que recorre las páginas de Hablar solos, una franqueza necesaria.
Las voces que hablan lo hacen con un tono inconfundible y propio, se leen como amigos que se confiesan, son tres: Mario, quien está muriendo y cuyas inquietudes giran alrededor de su hijo, los últimos días se dedica a fabricarle recuerdos; Lito, con la inocencia del que no sabe y del que no ha sido tocado por la tragedia, narra el día a día con su padre en un primer y último viaje por carretera; Finalmente, Helena, el personaje más interesante, desborda sinceridad al despojarse de la máscara de esposa abnegada, es la cara de la cuidadora hastiada, de la que quiere y no, de la que ama y odia, de la que entrega y renuncia.
A su manera, los tres nos llevan de la mano por los linderos de la muerte, nos enseñan el sabor de las despedidas y la dureza de los adioses definitivos. Estos entrañables personajes develan lo bello e implacable del final. Un texto muy recomendado de Andrés Neuman.
November 4, 2019
I found this a breathtaking and heartbreaking short novel, told in choral style by a terminally-ill man, his wife and their 10-year-old son. The man takes the son on a long-promised "for when-you're-older" journey because he realizes that the end is near and he won't live to see his son grow up; the son tells of the journey while not understanding what's truly happening, only that his father is suffering some type of "flu"; and the wife is left behind to deal with her grief and feelings about loss (past and future), love, and becoming a young widow while still being a woman. (My wife thought that for a male writer, Andrés Neumann understands the mixed feelings of women very well.) It's one of those books you read with your highlighter in your hand because so much of it arrives right at the point. At the same time, her studies being in literary research, she reads from and comments on various texts that deal with death, loss, and how people from within and without react to death. How long do you grieve? How long do people allow you to grieve? Do hospitals serve to alleviate or detain the dying? So much to think about here but not if you're living through this, I think, only when you need to look back on this terrible but universal experience.
September 1, 2016
Uno de los mejores libros que he leído este año. Andrés Neuman da una pincelada muy exacta de cómo muchos de nosotros enfrentamos una enfermedad terminal, la muerte y el luto.
La voz mejor lograda sin dudas es la de Elena, la "bookworm", que compra libros como si fueran analgésicos, algo en que me puedo identificar completamente.
Lo recomiendo para quienes quieran leer algo corto e intenso. Es una historia triste, pero llena de belleza.
La voz mejor lograda sin dudas es la de Elena, la "bookworm", que compra libros como si fueran analgésicos, algo en que me puedo identificar completamente.
Lo recomiendo para quienes quieran leer algo corto e intenso. Es una historia triste, pero llena de belleza.
August 15, 2022
Elegia funebre
Non sono riuscito ad appassionarmi a questo romanzo nel quale mi sono imbattuto un po’ per caso, avendo sentito citare l’autore più volte e in termini piuttosto lusinghieri, ma nello specifico senza sapere nulla di “Parlare da soli.
A questo risultato deludente ha senza dubbio contribuito la mia personale avversione al tema: un libro imperniato dalla prima all’ultima pagina sulla malattia terminale, con le riflessioni dello sventurato protagonista e le ripercussioni sui familiari più vicini, nella fattispecie la moglie e il figlio decenne, in un alternarsi delle tre voci narranti.
Anche gli avvenimenti in apparenza estranei (un adulterio) non fanno altro che rappresentare una pulsione reattiva all’elemento drammatico dominante e vi rimandano ossessivamente, mentre le varie stazioni di questa via crucis sono disseminate, soprattutto da parte del personaggio femminile, di frequenti citazioni colte (da Bolano a Mallarmé, da Sylvia Plath a Virginia Woolf, ad altri) che mi sono sembrate abbastanza gratuite e ostentate.
In conclusione quali che siano le ragioni, che non riesco a definire adeguatamente, non sono riuscito (o forse qualcosa in me si è rifiutato di farlo) ad entrare nello spirito di questo romanzo che immagino non volesse rappresentare soltanto un’elegia funebre, come invece è risultato ai miei occhi.
Non sono riuscito ad appassionarmi a questo romanzo nel quale mi sono imbattuto un po’ per caso, avendo sentito citare l’autore più volte e in termini piuttosto lusinghieri, ma nello specifico senza sapere nulla di “Parlare da soli.
A questo risultato deludente ha senza dubbio contribuito la mia personale avversione al tema: un libro imperniato dalla prima all’ultima pagina sulla malattia terminale, con le riflessioni dello sventurato protagonista e le ripercussioni sui familiari più vicini, nella fattispecie la moglie e il figlio decenne, in un alternarsi delle tre voci narranti.
Anche gli avvenimenti in apparenza estranei (un adulterio) non fanno altro che rappresentare una pulsione reattiva all’elemento drammatico dominante e vi rimandano ossessivamente, mentre le varie stazioni di questa via crucis sono disseminate, soprattutto da parte del personaggio femminile, di frequenti citazioni colte (da Bolano a Mallarmé, da Sylvia Plath a Virginia Woolf, ad altri) che mi sono sembrate abbastanza gratuite e ostentate.
In conclusione quali che siano le ragioni, che non riesco a definire adeguatamente, non sono riuscito (o forse qualcosa in me si è rifiutato di farlo) ad entrare nello spirito di questo romanzo che immagino non volesse rappresentare soltanto un’elegia funebre, come invece è risultato ai miei occhi.
December 7, 2012
Este es uno de esos libros que te hacen escribir.
May 2, 2014
Are we honest when we’re talking to ourselves? What do our constantly speaking inner voices reveal about the way in which we perceive the world around us and those closest to us? In Andrés Neuman’s (Traveller of the Century) stunning fifth novel Talking to Ourselves, a father, mother, and child collectively embark on a difficult final journey together, while individually they each travel down very different paths alone.
Told by way of three distinct narrative voices: the inner dialog of ten-year-old boy’s excited brain, the diary entries of a book-wormish woman struggling with husband’s imminent death, and the voice recordings that a terminally ill father is leaving behind for his young son, Neuman’s novel accurately replicates the small disconnections that we feel when we’re together and the nagging self-doubt that plagues us when we’re all alone. It examines the subtle, everyday ways in which we lie to ourselves and to each other and challenges us to rethink our perception of events from a new and different perspective. And it manages to do all of this in just 160 short pages.
READ MORE:
http://www.typographicalera.com/talki...
Told by way of three distinct narrative voices: the inner dialog of ten-year-old boy’s excited brain, the diary entries of a book-wormish woman struggling with husband’s imminent death, and the voice recordings that a terminally ill father is leaving behind for his young son, Neuman’s novel accurately replicates the small disconnections that we feel when we’re together and the nagging self-doubt that plagues us when we’re all alone. It examines the subtle, everyday ways in which we lie to ourselves and to each other and challenges us to rethink our perception of events from a new and different perspective. And it manages to do all of this in just 160 short pages.
READ MORE:
http://www.typographicalera.com/talki...
September 20, 2018
Priča o bolesti i gubitku ispričana iz ugla tri člana porodice.
Važna tema o tome kako bolest utiče na čovjeka i kako ga mijenja, obrađena je na prijemčiv, ali nekako sirov način, koji je mene ostavio ravnodušnom.
Potresno i tužno, i ništa više od toga.
Važna tema o tome kako bolest utiče na čovjeka i kako ga mijenja, obrađena je na prijemčiv, ali nekako sirov način, koji je mene ostavio ravnodušnom.
Potresno i tužno, i ništa više od toga.
December 31, 2016
Three Narrators... Three Ways of Experiencing Life... One Family...
Beautifully composed...
One of those books you will remember for the way the text makes you feel...
A Great Read...
Beautifully composed...
One of those books you will remember for the way the text makes you feel...
A Great Read...
October 14, 2022
رواية في إطار ثلاثة اصوات ..لكل صوت لون مختلف ..نجح الكاتب في توضيح الفرق بينهم ..كل شخص له افكاره و تعاملاته ..حتي انك تستطيع من خلال النص إن تعرف ايهم المتكلم
المرض :
ماهو المرض ..كيفية العيش في وجوده ..كيفية تعاملنا مع نظرات الشفقة من عيون المحيطين بنا ..هل نحن فقط من نتألم و نعاني وقت مرضنا !.. ماذا عن المحيطين بنا كيف يؤثر عليهم ؟ .. هل يراودك احساس الحسد تجاه الاصحاء ؟ .. كأنهم يستولوا علي ما كان لك يوما ما ؟.. الكثير من التساؤلات التي تجوب ذهنك وقتها ..لست وحدك في ذلك
الحياة وسط المرض تجعلنا نغيب عن العالم ..نصبح كالغرباء .. كأن لم يعد لنا مكانا وسط الناس .. الحياة بالخارج تصير اصعب .. لان المرض يظهر جليا في العيون ..من السهل تمييز الصحة بسهولة !
مكانك و بيتك ما انت معتاد عليه يصبح خاليا .. كأن الزمن قد القي بظلاله عليها ..كمتحف لحياتك الخاصه !
مع الوقت يصير احساسك بنفسك اوهي ..كانك شخص مختلف .. تصير شبحا مع الوقت و تنعزل عن العالم .. تحتاج لوجود شئ او احد يذكرك بانك موجود في داخلك !
بين الاحياء و الموت هناك ستار.. احيانا ذلك الستار يرفع ..عندما تفقد شخصا عزيزا وقتئذ للحظة تري الموت بوضوح شديد..بعد ذلك الستار يعاود السقوط..تواصل حياتك ..و ينسي الامر !
المرض :
ماهو المرض ..كيفية العيش في وجوده ..كيفية تعاملنا مع نظرات الشفقة من عيون المحيطين بنا ..هل نحن فقط من نتألم و نعاني وقت مرضنا !.. ماذا عن المحيطين بنا كيف يؤثر عليهم ؟ .. هل يراودك احساس الحسد تجاه الاصحاء ؟ .. كأنهم يستولوا علي ما كان لك يوما ما ؟.. الكثير من التساؤلات التي تجوب ذهنك وقتها ..لست وحدك في ذلك
الحياة وسط المرض تجعلنا نغيب عن العالم ..نصبح كالغرباء .. كأن لم يعد لنا مكانا وسط الناس .. الحياة بالخارج تصير اصعب .. لان المرض يظهر جليا في العيون ..من السهل تمييز الصحة بسهولة !
مكانك و بيتك ما انت معتاد عليه يصبح خاليا .. كأن الزمن قد القي بظلاله عليها ..كمتحف لحياتك الخاصه !
مع الوقت يصير احساسك بنفسك اوهي ..كانك شخص مختلف .. تصير شبحا مع الوقت و تنعزل عن العالم .. تحتاج لوجود شئ او احد يذكرك بانك موجود في داخلك !
بين الاحياء و الموت هناك ستار.. احيانا ذلك الستار يرفع ..عندما تفقد شخصا عزيزا وقتئذ للحظة تري الموت بوضوح شديد..بعد ذلك الستار يعاود السقوط..تواصل حياتك ..و ينسي الامر !
May 28, 2016
Once, talking with someone about books, movies, music, art in general, I have said. Give me drama and take my breath away. This book is a drama, a family drama with capital D. But it's an excellent drama, intense and powerful. A man is dying from the worst disease and he is trying to offer a nice memory to his 10 years old son travelling together with a truck. The boy, knows nothing about his fathers health and follows him with such a great excitement. And his wife remains back at home trying to handle this so difficult situation. She is trying to find a peace for her mind in literature, reading a lot of books and offering to the reader many quotes of her readings, while writing down a kind of diary. She is doing other things as well, not good ones, while her life has become insane.
Andres Neuman writes a superb story using three different voices and he does it very very good. I think he captures all three people are talking in this book in their monologues with a brilliant way. Especially the voice of Helena is so excellent and the fact of a so well crafted female character created by a man deserve congrats. She is smart, intellectual, depressed, crazy.. I 'm not gonna comment if I like or not her behavior. For what the author wants her to be, she is a superb character. We 're talking about fiction anyway, don't forget it.
The whole content is very heavy, it's depressing, it's uncomfortable in some parts. If you are ready to read a real drama, go ahead, you will enjoy it (not sure however if enjoyment can be felt for a book like this). For me it was an excellent story given with a very good realistic way and this realism gives power to the book. I loved it.
Andres Neuman writes a superb story using three different voices and he does it very very good. I think he captures all three people are talking in this book in their monologues with a brilliant way. Especially the voice of Helena is so excellent and the fact of a so well crafted female character created by a man deserve congrats. She is smart, intellectual, depressed, crazy.. I 'm not gonna comment if I like or not her behavior. For what the author wants her to be, she is a superb character. We 're talking about fiction anyway, don't forget it.
The whole content is very heavy, it's depressing, it's uncomfortable in some parts. If you are ready to read a real drama, go ahead, you will enjoy it (not sure however if enjoyment can be felt for a book like this). For me it was an excellent story given with a very good realistic way and this realism gives power to the book. I loved it.
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