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33 Revolutions
The hero of this mordant portrayal of life in contemporary Cuba is a black Cuban whose parents were enthusiastic supporters of the Castro Revolution. His father, however, having fallen foul of the regime, is accused of embezzlement and dies of a stroke. Following her husband's death, his mother flees the country and settles in Madrid.
Our hero separates from his wife and now spends much of his time in the company of his Russian neighbor, from whom he discovers the pleasures of reading. The books he reads gradually open his eyes to the incongruity between party slogans and the gray oppressive reality that surrounds him: the office routine; the daily complaints of his colleagues about problems big and small; his own obsessive thoughts which circulate like a broken record. Every day he photographs the spontaneous eruptions of dissent on the streets and witnesses the sad spectacle of young people crowding onto makeshift rafts and leaving the island. Every night he suffers from Kafkaesque nightmares in which he is arrested and tried for unknown crimes. His disappointment and delusion grow until a day comes when he declares his unwillingness to become an informer, and his real troubles begin.
33 Revolutions is a candid and moving story about the disappointments of a generation that believed in the ideals of the Castro Revolution. it is a unique look into the lives of ordinary people in Cuba over the past five decades and a stylish work of fiction about a young man's awakening.
Our hero separates from his wife and now spends much of his time in the company of his Russian neighbor, from whom he discovers the pleasures of reading. The books he reads gradually open his eyes to the incongruity between party slogans and the gray oppressive reality that surrounds him: the office routine; the daily complaints of his colleagues about problems big and small; his own obsessive thoughts which circulate like a broken record. Every day he photographs the spontaneous eruptions of dissent on the streets and witnesses the sad spectacle of young people crowding onto makeshift rafts and leaving the island. Every night he suffers from Kafkaesque nightmares in which he is arrested and tried for unknown crimes. His disappointment and delusion grow until a day comes when he declares his unwillingness to become an informer, and his real troubles begin.
33 Revolutions is a candid and moving story about the disappointments of a generation that believed in the ideals of the Castro Revolution. it is a unique look into the lives of ordinary people in Cuba over the past five decades and a stylish work of fiction about a young man's awakening.
128 pages, Paperback
First published August 25, 2016
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657 people want to read
About the author
Canek Sánchez Guevara
8 books17 followersCanek Sánchez Guevara, grandson of Che Guevara, left Cuba for Mexico in 1996. He worked for many of Mexico’s most important newspapers as a columnist and correspondent, and he wrote a regular newspaper column called “Motorcycleless Diaries.” He was a measured and informed critic of the Castro regime. He died in January 2015 at the age of forty.
from http://www.europaeditions.co.uk/book/...
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July 30, 2024
DIARIO SENZA MOTOCICLETTA
La madre dello scrittore, Hildita, in braccio a Fidel Castro.
Iniziati a scrivere nel periodo probabilmente peggiore per l’economia cubana, quindi per gli stessi cubani, negli anni Novanta, dopo la caduta del Muro e il crollo dell’URSS, quando l’isola caraibica si trovò a dover provvedere a se stessa senza il fondamentale sostegno degli aiuti russi, i 33 capitoli di questo breve romanzo sono 33 fotografie di una rivoluzione mancata.
Fallita.
Tradita.
Castro ha salvato l’isola dalla corrotta dittatura di Batista, ma poi ha tradito rivoluzione e popolo diventando dittatore a sua volta, non cedendo il potere, consentendo il formarsi di una classe politica e militare che ha pensato ad arricchire se stessa più che la gente, sviluppando un sistema che è rimasto in piedi solo per proteggere se stesso.
Parole del nipote di Che Guevara, il figlio della figlia del primo matrimonio, morto a 39 anni come sua madre, e come suo nonno, il mitico guerrigliero.
Balseros
Cuba è un disco rotto. A 33 giri nel finale, a 45 se si guarda il formato di questo piccolo e breve romanzo.
È un disco rotto perché niente funziona e tutto si ripete, ossessivamente, polverosamente, fastidiosamente.
Come si ripetono le promesse e i discorsi del líder máximo, che durano in eterno come un disco che gira su se stesso perché la puntina non lo fa più suonare, riesce solo a graffiarlo.
Come il clima, che si ripete caldo soffocante martellante.
Come l’utopia che viene riproposta da decenni ma non si realizza mai.
Che altro resta al di là del sesso, così centrale anche nella letteratura cubana?
Ma anche il sesso si ripete, monotono e senza variazioni.
Da cosa scappa chi sceglie di attraversare il mare su zattere di fortuna, sapendo che è molto alto il rischio di non arrivare dall’altra parte?
Il protagonista ha una visione tetra della vita cubana, accentuata dal suo essere di pelle nera.
E anche nella terra della rivoluzione castrista, un nero non è uguale a un bianco, non certo in senso migliorativo.
Chissà se il protagonista è di questo colore perché il nome di chi scrive, Canek, significa ‘serpente nero’ in lingua Maya.
Canek Sanchez Guevara non rifiutava il cognome del celebre nonno, se lo portava addosso in giro per il mondo, pesante e importante. Come non respingeva la rivoluzione tout court, ma solo quella cubana, che ha conosciuto direttamente avendo vissuto sull’isola per un periodo importante della sua breve vita.
Ma pur essendo di sinistra, anarchico, libertario, liberale ultraradicale, democratico underground, comunista-individualista, ego-socialista, come lui stesso si definiva, anzi, proprio per questo motivo, non poteva riconoscersi nella Cuba castrista.
Anche se si è definito scrittore di nulla concreto, queste corte pagine sono più che concrete, tangibilmente vere e belle, riuscite, e rimangono nel cuore e nella memoria ben più a lungo del tempo che serve per leggerle.
Aveva letto parecchio – senza rendersene conto, senza criterio né scopo – e proseguito gli studi dopo aver scoperto un universo personale molto più ampio di quello che lo circondava. A lungo andare, quell’universo avrebbe accentuato la ristrettezza della sua vita quotidiana facendogli sognare orizzonti mancanti, anch’essi ignoti: Fu allora che cominciò con la storia dei dischi rotti.
La rivoluzione cubana fallisce quando inizia il fallimento nelle cose di tutti i giorni – quando socializza la povertà senza eliminare l'ingiustizia – quando priva la gente della capacità di sognare e di guardare al futuro, condannandola all'immobilità.
La povertà non è un'opera d'arte o il gradino più alto dell'evoluzione sociale.
”I diari della motocicletta” di Walter Salles, 2004, ispirato dai diari di viaggio (Notas de viaje) di Ernesto “Che” Guevara e da “Con el Che por America Latina” di Alberto Granado, compagno di Guevara in quel viaggio. Gael Garcia Bernal interpreta il Che.
La madre dello scrittore, Hildita, in braccio a Fidel Castro.
Iniziati a scrivere nel periodo probabilmente peggiore per l’economia cubana, quindi per gli stessi cubani, negli anni Novanta, dopo la caduta del Muro e il crollo dell’URSS, quando l’isola caraibica si trovò a dover provvedere a se stessa senza il fondamentale sostegno degli aiuti russi, i 33 capitoli di questo breve romanzo sono 33 fotografie di una rivoluzione mancata.
Fallita.
Tradita.
Castro ha salvato l’isola dalla corrotta dittatura di Batista, ma poi ha tradito rivoluzione e popolo diventando dittatore a sua volta, non cedendo il potere, consentendo il formarsi di una classe politica e militare che ha pensato ad arricchire se stessa più che la gente, sviluppando un sistema che è rimasto in piedi solo per proteggere se stesso.
Parole del nipote di Che Guevara, il figlio della figlia del primo matrimonio, morto a 39 anni come sua madre, e come suo nonno, il mitico guerrigliero.
Balseros
Cuba è un disco rotto. A 33 giri nel finale, a 45 se si guarda il formato di questo piccolo e breve romanzo.
È un disco rotto perché niente funziona e tutto si ripete, ossessivamente, polverosamente, fastidiosamente.
Come si ripetono le promesse e i discorsi del líder máximo, che durano in eterno come un disco che gira su se stesso perché la puntina non lo fa più suonare, riesce solo a graffiarlo.
Come il clima, che si ripete caldo soffocante martellante.
Come l’utopia che viene riproposta da decenni ma non si realizza mai.
Che altro resta al di là del sesso, così centrale anche nella letteratura cubana?
Ma anche il sesso si ripete, monotono e senza variazioni.
Da cosa scappa chi sceglie di attraversare il mare su zattere di fortuna, sapendo che è molto alto il rischio di non arrivare dall’altra parte?
Il protagonista ha una visione tetra della vita cubana, accentuata dal suo essere di pelle nera.
E anche nella terra della rivoluzione castrista, un nero non è uguale a un bianco, non certo in senso migliorativo.
Chissà se il protagonista è di questo colore perché il nome di chi scrive, Canek, significa ‘serpente nero’ in lingua Maya.
Canek Sanchez Guevara non rifiutava il cognome del celebre nonno, se lo portava addosso in giro per il mondo, pesante e importante. Come non respingeva la rivoluzione tout court, ma solo quella cubana, che ha conosciuto direttamente avendo vissuto sull’isola per un periodo importante della sua breve vita.
Ma pur essendo di sinistra, anarchico, libertario, liberale ultraradicale, democratico underground, comunista-individualista, ego-socialista, come lui stesso si definiva, anzi, proprio per questo motivo, non poteva riconoscersi nella Cuba castrista.
Anche se si è definito scrittore di nulla concreto, queste corte pagine sono più che concrete, tangibilmente vere e belle, riuscite, e rimangono nel cuore e nella memoria ben più a lungo del tempo che serve per leggerle.
Aveva letto parecchio – senza rendersene conto, senza criterio né scopo – e proseguito gli studi dopo aver scoperto un universo personale molto più ampio di quello che lo circondava. A lungo andare, quell’universo avrebbe accentuato la ristrettezza della sua vita quotidiana facendogli sognare orizzonti mancanti, anch’essi ignoti: Fu allora che cominciò con la storia dei dischi rotti.
La rivoluzione cubana fallisce quando inizia il fallimento nelle cose di tutti i giorni – quando socializza la povertà senza eliminare l'ingiustizia – quando priva la gente della capacità di sognare e di guardare al futuro, condannandola all'immobilità.
La povertà non è un'opera d'arte o il gradino più alto dell'evoluzione sociale.
”I diari della motocicletta” di Walter Salles, 2004, ispirato dai diari di viaggio (Notas de viaje) di Ernesto “Che” Guevara e da “Con el Che por America Latina” di Alberto Granado, compagno di Guevara in quel viaggio. Gael Garcia Bernal interpreta il Che.
March 6, 2021
33 Revolutions by Canek Sanchez Guevara
Before getting into the review it helps to know about the author (1974-2015 – he died young from complications after heart surgery). He was Che Guevara’s eldest grandson but was decidedly anti-revolutionary. The author, although born in Havana, was raised and schooled in Europe and then returned to Cuba in 1986 for ten years before moving to Mexico City.
The narrator, a young man, paints a picture of despondency in Cuba under Castro. We’ve heard a lot about daily life under communism before: minimal food, ration tickets, hours in long lines, empty shelves, leaky roofs, deficient products. When we are told it’s a Russian camera or a Czech record player, we know what we are supposed to think.
He has a dead-end desk job he cares nothing about. His boss screams at everyone. There is no choice in the cafeteria food: it is whatever it is, perhaps for several days in a row. He goes into his bar; no one greets him; he tells us no one cares about anyone else.
The only up-beat note apparently is a lot of rum, parties and sex.
The narrator points out the blatant class system that has taken hold. Diplomats and high-level officials get to shop in upscale stores stocked with high-quality expensive goods. The narrator happens to be eligible too because he has the two prerequisites: a connection (the woman he shacks up with is a Russian diplomat) and foreign currency (because his mother sends him money from Spain).
There’s racism too. A black man running for a bus is stopped by the cops for his identity papers. He is then told [in effect, I can’t find the exact quote] “No offense, comrade, but – you know – a black man running…”
The title comes from an extended metaphor of a cracked record on an old 33 RPM player, over and over again; the dull, tedious, repetitive daily grind, the lines, the fights with his ex-, on and on and on. People go to the beach in broad daylight and launch makeshift rafts in the hopes of getting to the USA.
A pretty bleak picture. It’s a short book – even for a novella – and I’ll give it a 3.5 rounded up to 4. I’ve read a half-dozen books about life in Cuba (I have a Cuban author shelf) and this is the bleakest. Of course, most stories are written by those who were extremely dissatisfied and left or fled.
Top photo of Havana from thenationalnews.com
A line in Cuba from newyorktimes.com
The author from diariolasamericas.com
Before getting into the review it helps to know about the author (1974-2015 – he died young from complications after heart surgery). He was Che Guevara’s eldest grandson but was decidedly anti-revolutionary. The author, although born in Havana, was raised and schooled in Europe and then returned to Cuba in 1986 for ten years before moving to Mexico City.
The narrator, a young man, paints a picture of despondency in Cuba under Castro. We’ve heard a lot about daily life under communism before: minimal food, ration tickets, hours in long lines, empty shelves, leaky roofs, deficient products. When we are told it’s a Russian camera or a Czech record player, we know what we are supposed to think.
He has a dead-end desk job he cares nothing about. His boss screams at everyone. There is no choice in the cafeteria food: it is whatever it is, perhaps for several days in a row. He goes into his bar; no one greets him; he tells us no one cares about anyone else.
The only up-beat note apparently is a lot of rum, parties and sex.
The narrator points out the blatant class system that has taken hold. Diplomats and high-level officials get to shop in upscale stores stocked with high-quality expensive goods. The narrator happens to be eligible too because he has the two prerequisites: a connection (the woman he shacks up with is a Russian diplomat) and foreign currency (because his mother sends him money from Spain).
There’s racism too. A black man running for a bus is stopped by the cops for his identity papers. He is then told [in effect, I can’t find the exact quote] “No offense, comrade, but – you know – a black man running…”
The title comes from an extended metaphor of a cracked record on an old 33 RPM player, over and over again; the dull, tedious, repetitive daily grind, the lines, the fights with his ex-, on and on and on. People go to the beach in broad daylight and launch makeshift rafts in the hopes of getting to the USA.
A pretty bleak picture. It’s a short book – even for a novella – and I’ll give it a 3.5 rounded up to 4. I’ve read a half-dozen books about life in Cuba (I have a Cuban author shelf) and this is the bleakest. Of course, most stories are written by those who were extremely dissatisfied and left or fled.
Top photo of Havana from thenationalnews.com
A line in Cuba from newyorktimes.com
The author from diariolasamericas.com
![Profile Image for s.penkevich [hiatus-will return-miss you all].](/_next/image?url=https%3A%2F%2Fi.gr-assets.com%2Fimages%2FS%2Fcompressed.photo.goodreads.com%2Fusers%2F1735525095i%2F6431467._UX200_CR0%2C11%2C200%2C200_.jpg&w=128&q=75)
January 15, 2022
‘Nothing works, but it’s all the same. It’s always the same. Like a scratched record, always repeating itself…’
33 Revolutions is a grim and grimy portrait of a post-revolution Cuba from Canek Sánchez Guevara, the grandson of revolutionary icon Ernesto Che Guevara, Short, and admittedly a bit thinly told, this novella follows the life of an unnamed office worker through the mundanities of his life as he is disillusioned with the promise of a better society, arguing that the very people the revolution promised to uplift are now those most crushed under a bleak life of monotony. Life is a ‘scratched record,’ he frequently repeats like a refrain, stuck on an endless loop of skips and false starts without the melody of living ever flowing out. ‘Deep down, something is moving, falling apart, breaking up,’ he tells us, and as he watches more people fleeing the island by boat, watches more people disappear or give in to depression, we begin to feel the amalgamation of his woes start to sink the narrator. 33 Revolutions is a bleak investigation of life shriveling up under complacency and poverty.
‘On days like this, his life seems like a vain literary exercise, an experimental poem, a treatise on the pointless and unneccessary,’ writes Guevara. This statement is not unlike the aims of the novel itself, a literary exercise (though I wouldn’t call it vain) to capture the feeling of pointlessness in life. Our narrator goes to work where conditions are poor and the bosses are cruel, goes out drinking where nobody interacts with him and goes wandering to the water where he thinks about how isolated Cuba has become:
The feeling of isolation is stifling for him, and many others. While for him music is an escape (‘For the first time he was able to dream while music played.’) he also sees tha for the most part, the only escape people have as a society at large are drinking and sex:
Guevara also addresses issues of racism, such as a Black man being detained by police while running to catch a bus and told 'a black man running in the dark is always suspicious.' Luckily for our narrator he has a few connections, such as a girlfriend who is a Russian Diplomat, and he begins to plan his escape from the mundanity. But is escape even possible? How many lives are drowned out escaping across the seas as those left behind are drowning in what feels like a capsizing society?
This is a bleak portrait of life in Cuba, one that Guevara believes his grandfather would have seen as well. ‘He never would have approved of what has become of this revolution,’ Guevara said in an interveiw with The Independent, ‘let’s be honest, a young rebel like Fidel Castro in today’s Cuba wouldn’t be sent into exile. He’d be shot.’ Like the narrator, the author found himself disillusioned and left Cuba for Mexico in 1996. Guevara sees the revolution as having just become another form of elitism, with the government officials having all the wealth and the people crushed underfoot and the dreams of a classless society having resorted to a continued wealth disparity and oligarchy. Unfortunately, Guevara passed in 2015 at the age of 40.
33 Revolutions is fairly interesting, though a bit bleak and repetitive. It feels a bit rushed and ends abruptly, and while there are some beautifully poetic passages it also seems a bit clunky. Not unlike a scratched record.
3/5
'The whole country is a scratched record (everything repeats itself: every day is a repetition of the day before, every week, month, year; and from repetition to repetitions, the sound deteriorates until all that is left is a vague, unrecognizable recollection of the original recording—the music disappears, to be replaced by an incomprehensible, gravelly murmur.'
33 Revolutions is a grim and grimy portrait of a post-revolution Cuba from Canek Sánchez Guevara, the grandson of revolutionary icon Ernesto Che Guevara, Short, and admittedly a bit thinly told, this novella follows the life of an unnamed office worker through the mundanities of his life as he is disillusioned with the promise of a better society, arguing that the very people the revolution promised to uplift are now those most crushed under a bleak life of monotony. Life is a ‘scratched record,’ he frequently repeats like a refrain, stuck on an endless loop of skips and false starts without the melody of living ever flowing out. ‘Deep down, something is moving, falling apart, breaking up,’ he tells us, and as he watches more people fleeing the island by boat, watches more people disappear or give in to depression, we begin to feel the amalgamation of his woes start to sink the narrator. 33 Revolutions is a bleak investigation of life shriveling up under complacency and poverty.
‘On days like this, his life seems like a vain literary exercise, an experimental poem, a treatise on the pointless and unneccessary,’ writes Guevara. This statement is not unlike the aims of the novel itself, a literary exercise (though I wouldn’t call it vain) to capture the feeling of pointlessness in life. Our narrator goes to work where conditions are poor and the bosses are cruel, goes out drinking where nobody interacts with him and goes wandering to the water where he thinks about how isolated Cuba has become:
‘We win by isolating ourselves, and in isolating ourselves we are defeated, he thinks. The wall is the sea, the screen that protects us and locks us in. There are no borders; those waters are a bulwark and a stockade, a trench and a moat, a barricade and a fence. We resist through isolation. We survive through repetition.’
The feeling of isolation is stifling for him, and many others. While for him music is an escape (‘For the first time he was able to dream while music played.’) he also sees tha for the most part, the only escape people have as a society at large are drinking and sex:
‘The only thing that works here, he thinks, is partying, promiscuity, phallocentricism, an obsession with sex (erotic materialism). The rest is speechmaking to confuse the masses. Sex is the beginning and the end: History as one big fuckfest, he thinks.’
Guevara also addresses issues of racism, such as a Black man being detained by police while running to catch a bus and told 'a black man running in the dark is always suspicious.' Luckily for our narrator he has a few connections, such as a girlfriend who is a Russian Diplomat, and he begins to plan his escape from the mundanity. But is escape even possible? How many lives are drowned out escaping across the seas as those left behind are drowning in what feels like a capsizing society?
This is a bleak portrait of life in Cuba, one that Guevara believes his grandfather would have seen as well. ‘He never would have approved of what has become of this revolution,’ Guevara said in an interveiw with The Independent, ‘let’s be honest, a young rebel like Fidel Castro in today’s Cuba wouldn’t be sent into exile. He’d be shot.’ Like the narrator, the author found himself disillusioned and left Cuba for Mexico in 1996. Guevara sees the revolution as having just become another form of elitism, with the government officials having all the wealth and the people crushed underfoot and the dreams of a classless society having resorted to a continued wealth disparity and oligarchy. Unfortunately, Guevara passed in 2015 at the age of 40.
33 Revolutions is fairly interesting, though a bit bleak and repetitive. It feels a bit rushed and ends abruptly, and while there are some beautifully poetic passages it also seems a bit clunky. Not unlike a scratched record.
3/5
'The whole country is a scratched record (everything repeats itself: every day is a repetition of the day before, every week, month, year; and from repetition to repetitions, the sound deteriorates until all that is left is a vague, unrecognizable recollection of the original recording—the music disappears, to be replaced by an incomprehensible, gravelly murmur.'
October 5, 2017
Πολύ ενδιαφέρον.
January 1, 2017
I must admit that I only picked up this short novella (so short that it took me less than two hours to read) because it has been chosen for a group read by the 21st Century Literature group. It is a relentlessly bleak and somewhat repetitive description of life in Castro's Cuba, the description of life being "like a scratched record" is repeated so often it is almost a leitmotif. I can't really claim to have enjoyed this much and can't help wondering whether it would even have been translated had it not been written by a grandson of Che Guevara.
April 7, 2022
Canek Sánchez Guevara experienced life in Cuba, post his famous grandfather's communist legacy, as a monotonous, dreary, lifeless scratched record, which repeats over and over and over. Repetition puts you to sleep,and that sleepiness is also repeated; sometimes the needle jumps, a cracking is heard, the rhythm changes...
... there is not one iota of greatness in any of this....
Wealth and privilege belong to the upper classes, as usual. One ideology was replaced by another, the one privileged class were replace by another. Both were fabulously fortunate in stealing from the populace.
In this short novella, the anonymous black Cuban resident, who works for a government ministry, contributed to a daily nihilism, a farce of making a contribution, the madness of giving service, in a place where there were intimate delays in meat distribution, a limited variety of food available, and everyone stood inline for a daily ration of bread.
The ideology finally hit hard, especially after his pig-headed but honest, ignorant but idealistic, father 'died of innocence' and his mother moved to Spain. People escaped to distant shores, more drowned than reaching their destinations. Everyone who dared to try was hoping to rewrite an otherwise suicidal future, in which tomorrow was built on the graveyard of yesterday with the workforce of today, should they stay.
Despair was the one hope; Rum was the other, in a relentless competition of reality.
In the end he made a choice, to ensure that his life won't anymore be immersed in the epic of poor but dignified dignity, sacrifice as a modus vivendi, survival as self-improvement. Things like butter, yogurt and milk won't be regarded as luxuries as well in his new life. His dreams won't get stuck in the past.
Guevera's memories of Cuba is not aimed at Castro, but rather at the lived reality of Cuba. His eloquent word-art was built around a gritty, hard and oppressive life. The revolution was suppose to serve the people, but now have thrown them into a monotonous life of silent misery.
So yes, it was a challenging melancholic, but a very well-written experience for the reader. Guevara managed to express his feelings the way he wanted to.
In a sad way, I felt honored to read his thoughts. RIP.
... there is not one iota of greatness in any of this....
Wealth and privilege belong to the upper classes, as usual. One ideology was replaced by another, the one privileged class were replace by another. Both were fabulously fortunate in stealing from the populace.
The needle gets stuck in a groove and the tropical avenue seems full of Urals, Volgas, Moskviches, and Polskis. Inside, the air conditioning and the diplomat store full of nice things. Outside, the scalding tar of the street, the nonexistent breeze, and the thirst; inside, cold beer, consumer goods, and food; outside, hunger and the silence. Two worlds in one, two dimensions, two universes: Two nations and to deaths, he thinks: The needle crackles, jumps, and falls here, where nothing is permitted but everything is decided and done.
In this short novella, the anonymous black Cuban resident, who works for a government ministry, contributed to a daily nihilism, a farce of making a contribution, the madness of giving service, in a place where there were intimate delays in meat distribution, a limited variety of food available, and everyone stood inline for a daily ration of bread.
The ideology finally hit hard, especially after his pig-headed but honest, ignorant but idealistic, father 'died of innocence' and his mother moved to Spain. People escaped to distant shores, more drowned than reaching their destinations. Everyone who dared to try was hoping to rewrite an otherwise suicidal future, in which tomorrow was built on the graveyard of yesterday with the workforce of today, should they stay.
All at one a group of young people appear carrying a strange object halfway between a ready-made and a broken wardrobe; they pull the artifact to the water and get on it.
By some miracle, the contraption floats; With a cry of Eureka, they set out to sea, rowing with broomsticks. Everything is crude (the raft, the oars, the crew, the country).
Despair was the one hope; Rum was the other, in a relentless competition of reality.
In the end he made a choice, to ensure that his life won't anymore be immersed in the epic of poor but dignified dignity, sacrifice as a modus vivendi, survival as self-improvement. Things like butter, yogurt and milk won't be regarded as luxuries as well in his new life. His dreams won't get stuck in the past.
Guevera's memories of Cuba is not aimed at Castro, but rather at the lived reality of Cuba. His eloquent word-art was built around a gritty, hard and oppressive life. The revolution was suppose to serve the people, but now have thrown them into a monotonous life of silent misery.
So yes, it was a challenging melancholic, but a very well-written experience for the reader. Guevara managed to express his feelings the way he wanted to.
In a sad way, I felt honored to read his thoughts. RIP.
October 20, 2016
33 revolutions (33 revoluciones) is a politically charged novella from canek sánchez guevara, the (late) grandson of argentine marxist che guevara. disillusioned with cuba's castro revolution, sánchez guevara's protagonist is frustrated not only with his country as a whole, but seemingly everything about his life. as the political milieu grows more uncertain and threatening, his refusal to capitulate forces him to make an irrevocable decision. despite some well-crafted prose and vivid, recurring imagery, 33 revolutions feels a little rushed and too thinly sketched.
*translated from the spanish by howard curtis (jean-claude izzo, et al.)
he looks down at the sea again and drinks straight from the bottle. behind him, the dirty, beautiful, broken city; in front of him, the abyss that suggests defeat. it isn't even a dilemma, let alone a contradiction, but the certainty that it's this abyss, this isolation, that defines and conditions us. we win by isolating ourselves, and in isolating ourselves we are defeated, he thinks. the wall is the sea, the screen that protects us and locks us in. there are no borders; those waters are a bulwark and a stockade, a trench and a moat, a barricade and a fence. we resist through isolation. we survive through repetition.
*translated from the spanish by howard curtis (jean-claude izzo, et al.)
January 1, 2017
There's a kind of poetic quality to these 33 vignette-like mini-chapters. Guevara beats the broken/scratched record analogy to death, but doesn't totally get in the way of conveying a sense of being stuck, of the well-worn groove whose revolutions continue mechanically. I'd say the whole was probably less than some stellar parts, but some of those parts (an observation, a turn of phrase) were magnificent. 'Tis a strange little creation that only took little more than an hour or so to read (including time to underline passages and jot down notes/thoughts).
November 26, 2016
Αυτό το βιβλίο ήταν μια πολύ ευχάριστη έκπληξη. Η αναφορά στους γρατζουνισμένους δίσκους θα με ακολουθεί για καιρό.
February 7, 2017
Che'nin torunundan oldukça karamsar bir roman.
"Ofiste bir başına kalmak istiyor, şehirde, ülkede bir başına kalmak ve asla rahatsız edilmemek. Tekdüzelik bin şekilde ifade ediliyor ve çeşit çeşit simgeye bürünüyor. İş, radyo, haberler, yemek ve boş vakit: Bozuk bir plağın içinde yaşıyorum diye düşünüyor, üstelik her gün biraz daha bozuluyor. Tekrarlar insanı uyuşturuyor ve bu uyuşukluk da tekrarlanıyor; ara ara pikabın iğnesi atıyor, bir çatırtı duyuluyor, ritim değişiyor ve bir kez daha takılıyor. Hep takılıyor, tekrar tekrar takılıyor."
"Ofiste bir başına kalmak istiyor, şehirde, ülkede bir başına kalmak ve asla rahatsız edilmemek. Tekdüzelik bin şekilde ifade ediliyor ve çeşit çeşit simgeye bürünüyor. İş, radyo, haberler, yemek ve boş vakit: Bozuk bir plağın içinde yaşıyorum diye düşünüyor, üstelik her gün biraz daha bozuluyor. Tekrarlar insanı uyuşturuyor ve bu uyuşukluk da tekrarlanıyor; ara ara pikabın iğnesi atıyor, bir çatırtı duyuluyor, ritim değişiyor ve bir kez daha takılıyor. Hep takılıyor, tekrar tekrar takılıyor."
May 26, 2017
2.5*
33 στροφές,33 μικρά κεφάλαια.Είναι η ζωή σαν γρατζουνισμένος δίσκος οπου επαναλαμβάνονται ξανά και ξανά τα ίδια μοτίβα;
Δεν μπορώ να πω οτι με ενθουσίασε αυτό το βιβλίο αν και κάποια κομμάτια μου άρεσαν πολυ.O εγγονός του Τσε ήταν αντίθετος στο καθεστώς Κάστρο και στο πως κατάντησε τελικά η επανάσταση και έγραψε ένα πολύ ζοφερό βιβλίο οπου ο ήρωας είναι καταθλιπτικός,όλα είναι μαύρα,δεν υπάρχει σωτηρία,δεν υπάρχει ελπίδα ,τίποτα δεν έχει νόημα.Είναι γεμάτο απογοήτευση την οποία κατανοώ αλλά σε μενα όλο αυτό λειτούργησε αρνητικά και μου άφησε μόνο μια αίσθηση μιζέριας.Βέβαια μπορεί αυτός να ήταν και ο σκοπός του.
33 στροφές,33 μικρά κεφάλαια.Είναι η ζωή σαν γρατζουνισμένος δίσκος οπου επαναλαμβάνονται ξανά και ξανά τα ίδια μοτίβα;
Δεν μπορώ να πω οτι με ενθουσίασε αυτό το βιβλίο αν και κάποια κομμάτια μου άρεσαν πολυ.O εγγονός του Τσε ήταν αντίθετος στο καθεστώς Κάστρο και στο πως κατάντησε τελικά η επανάσταση και έγραψε ένα πολύ ζοφερό βιβλίο οπου ο ήρωας είναι καταθλιπτικός,όλα είναι μαύρα,δεν υπάρχει σωτηρία,δεν υπάρχει ελπίδα ,τίποτα δεν έχει νόημα.Είναι γεμάτο απογοήτευση την οποία κατανοώ αλλά σε μενα όλο αυτό λειτούργησε αρνητικά και μου άφησε μόνο μια αίσθηση μιζέριας.Βέβαια μπορεί αυτός να ήταν και ο σκοπός του.
August 8, 2017
The author was disillusioned with Cuba and the failure of Communism to make things better. As grandson to Che Guevara he has some creditability to talk about his position. Unfortunately the book didn't deliver.
The narrator had a boring, unsatisfactory job. He has no real social life. He wants to escape. But it all got a little confusing, repetitive and didn't go anywhere - just like a scratched record when the stylus tracks the same segment over and over.
The narrator had a boring, unsatisfactory job. He has no real social life. He wants to escape. But it all got a little confusing, repetitive and didn't go anywhere - just like a scratched record when the stylus tracks the same segment over and over.
June 28, 2017
Ποιητικό. Ζωντανό. Μελαγχολικό. Αληθινό.
Το όνειρο της επανάστασης έχει σβήσει, και το σκληρό πρόσωπο του κρατικού καπιταλισμού δεν αφήνει περιθώρια για νέα όνειρα. Η ζωή στη μετεπαναστατική Κουβά μέσα από τα μάτια ενός πρωταγωνιστή που πασχίζει να βρει τη θέση του μέσα στη ζωή του, και τη ζωή του μέσα στο χρόνο που κυλά -ή και χάνεται. Μια ζωή που κυλά σαν ρουτίνα που επαναλαμβάνεται με τον ίδιο μονότονο ρυθμό. 33 στροφές το λεπτό.
Το όνειρο της επανάστασης έχει σβήσει, και το σκληρό πρόσωπο του κρατικού καπιταλισμού δεν αφήνει περιθώρια για νέα όνειρα. Η ζωή στη μετεπαναστατική Κουβά μέσα από τα μάτια ενός πρωταγωνιστή που πασχίζει να βρει τη θέση του μέσα στη ζωή του, και τη ζωή του μέσα στο χρόνο που κυλά -ή και χάνεται. Μια ζωή που κυλά σαν ρουτίνα που επαναλαμβάνεται με τον ίδιο μονότονο ρυθμό. 33 στροφές το λεπτό.
April 29, 2020
B.R.A.CE. 2020
Κάθε άνθρωπος κι ένας γρατζουνισμένος δίσκος. Αυτό κρατάω εγώ από τα 33 μικρά κεφάλαια του βιβλίου αυτού. Σύντομο και τόσο περιεκτικό.
... εκείνος παίρνει το δρόμο για το σπίτι ( σέρνοντας τα πόδια του ) κι αναρωτιέται ποια είναι η στιγμή που το όνειρο του μέλλοντος μένει αγκιστρωμένο στο παρελθόν.
... εκείνος παίρνει το δρόμο για το σπίτι ( σέρνοντας τα πόδια του ) κι αναρωτιέται ποια είναι η στιγμή που το όνειρο του μέλλοντος μένει αγκιστρωμένο στο παρελθόν.
June 26, 2018
#readathon18 Ένα βιβλίο συγγραφέα από την Κεντρική Αμερική/ Καραϊβική
Εξαιρετικά καλογραμμένο, μικρό και μεστό, με την πάντα ποιοτική μετάφραση που έχουμε συνηθίσει από τον Αχιλλέα Κυριακίδη.
Εξαιρετικά καλογραμμένο, μικρό και μεστό, με την πάντα ποιοτική μετάφραση που έχουμε συνηθίσει από τον Αχιλλέα Κυριακίδη.
December 1, 2020
Γκρίνια, μιζέρια και εφηβική μαυρίλα.
Δεν συνεχιζω γιατί θα γίνω κακός.
Δεν συνεχιζω γιατί θα γίνω κακός.
January 1, 2017
This novella was certainly a quick read, which was good because it was quite bleak. Whoever wrote the long description of the book on the Goodreads page makes it sound like there is more to the book than there is and, unfortunately, doesn't get it quite right.
As the picture on the cover shows, 33 Revolutions is a reference to the speed of long playing records, which actually seem to be making a comeback! (I still have a few but got rid of my turntable about 25 years ago, so they are never played.) Having grown up with LPs, the sound of the needle sticking on a scratched record and playing the same thing over and over was most annoying and so great care was taken not to scratch ones favorite albums. For me, the author's use of the LP records and the scratching evoked a Cuba stuck in the 1950's and 60's. While the revolutionaries were ecstatic about overthrowing the dictator, they, like many who participated in the Iranian revolution, ultimately found that what came next was not necessarily better.
As the book progresses, we learn things about our depressed main character who hates his job and whose life is basically stuck, repeating itself over every day like a stuck needed on a record. Then something happens that wakes him from his stupor. Query whether his life is any better as a result.
As the picture on the cover shows, 33 Revolutions is a reference to the speed of long playing records, which actually seem to be making a comeback! (I still have a few but got rid of my turntable about 25 years ago, so they are never played.) Having grown up with LPs, the sound of the needle sticking on a scratched record and playing the same thing over and over was most annoying and so great care was taken not to scratch ones favorite albums. For me, the author's use of the LP records and the scratching evoked a Cuba stuck in the 1950's and 60's. While the revolutionaries were ecstatic about overthrowing the dictator, they, like many who participated in the Iranian revolution, ultimately found that what came next was not necessarily better.
As the book progresses, we learn things about our depressed main character who hates his job and whose life is basically stuck, repeating itself over every day like a stuck needed on a record. Then something happens that wakes him from his stupor. Query whether his life is any better as a result.
January 1, 2017
I pity the person who unknowingly says to me that something is like a scratched record: if I hear that phrase once more I think I might suffer the same fate as our protagonist's father (read the book to find out what that is!).
The scratched record is a recurring phrase/image in this book. It recurs far too many times! In the end, it became a distraction for me: if I went more than a page without reading it, I became all tense waiting for it. And then, every time it came back, I had both a release of tension and an increase in frustration. I think that this might have been the author's intention. I know that he was attempting to show us the monotony of life in Cuba, the repetition and dullness of life. So, perhaps this book is a triumph.
But is it good to read? For me, no. If it had lost the repeated "scratched record" phrase and had been a bit longer to develop some of the characters, I can see that I might have liked it more. But, as it stands, it feels rushed. It is very short which means I haven't wasted much time reading it.
The scratched record is a recurring phrase/image in this book. It recurs far too many times! In the end, it became a distraction for me: if I went more than a page without reading it, I became all tense waiting for it. And then, every time it came back, I had both a release of tension and an increase in frustration. I think that this might have been the author's intention. I know that he was attempting to show us the monotony of life in Cuba, the repetition and dullness of life. So, perhaps this book is a triumph.
But is it good to read? For me, no. If it had lost the repeated "scratched record" phrase and had been a bit longer to develop some of the characters, I can see that I might have liked it more. But, as it stands, it feels rushed. It is very short which means I haven't wasted much time reading it.
April 16, 2024
The banality of socialist Cuba.
More like a single, than a long play.
Guevaras dying all too young is another tragedy
More like a single, than a long play.
Guevaras dying all too young is another tragedy
May 15, 2018
Short sharp shock of a novel about the failures and discontents of the Cuban revolution. A nameless black man, finding himself increasingly ground down by the numbing petty deprivations of the regime, finding himself ever more stuck in the dreary broken record that is daily life in Havana (never named but always clear and apparent), realizes that the only salvation lies in rebellion and escape.
What makes the book remarkable is not just its brilliantly compressed portrait of Castro's Cuba, as economic as it is evocative, but the fact that the writer was none other than the grandson of the very symbol of the revolution, a certain Ernesto Che Guevara! Canek petit-fils did what his grandfather would probably have done himself - rail against a dictatorship with great passion and eloquence.
Having been to Havana a few years ago, I can only attest that Canek Guevara captures the very grit and grime of daily life in that fabled city, its torrid heat and its torpid pace, the vast purple ocean and the constant wearying struggle of habanero existence. There is still great pride at the achievements of the revolution, still plenty of bloody-minded defiance against the bandidos yanquis, but as the author does not fail to ask: what price poverty? what glory in destitution?
What makes the book remarkable is not just its brilliantly compressed portrait of Castro's Cuba, as economic as it is evocative, but the fact that the writer was none other than the grandson of the very symbol of the revolution, a certain Ernesto Che Guevara! Canek petit-fils did what his grandfather would probably have done himself - rail against a dictatorship with great passion and eloquence.
Having been to Havana a few years ago, I can only attest that Canek Guevara captures the very grit and grime of daily life in that fabled city, its torrid heat and its torpid pace, the vast purple ocean and the constant wearying struggle of habanero existence. There is still great pride at the achievements of the revolution, still plenty of bloody-minded defiance against the bandidos yanquis, but as the author does not fail to ask: what price poverty? what glory in destitution?
June 3, 2017
Η φρίκη του καθεστώτος στην Κούβα μέσα από το συγκλονιστικό μυθιστόρημα του εγγονού του Τσε Γκεβάρα.
April 22, 2020
Absoluta fascinación. Un hombre preso en su tiempo e historia nacional. Para muchos foráneos Cuba ha sido un experimento extraño, radical y un fracaso. Fracaso? Sí, para la mente blanca occidental privilegiada heterosexual y conversadora. que demanda un constante cambio para que el estado de las cosas siga igual. Sin embargo, Cuba se ha estancado por esa clase dirigente putrefacta y conformista, que no buscó una negociación liberado con el amo del dinero, EEUU. Hay que saber aliarse al enemigo para dominarlo através de su propio veneno. Con mucha inteligencia y lucidez el personaje se escapa de esa decadencia, externa que día a día se introduce en su metabolismo y crea una apatía la cual no puede prolongar más, a más ciencia más sufrimiento. La realidad surrealista de unos ciudadanos que no pierden la oportunidad de escapa se ha generalizado en sus mentes inconformes. Ya no importa morir, ya no encuentran vitalidad ni renovación espiritual en su entorno, escapar es ahora el fin y no el medio para una oportunidad de libertad. La libertad se ha desvanecido en todo y en todos.
July 16, 2024
Πριν από πολλά, πολλά χρόνια ένας παλιός συνάδελφος μου διηγήθηκε περιστατικά από το ταξίδι του στην Κούβα. Μέσα σε όλα ανέφερε ότι έμειναν, μέσω κάποιου προγράμματος, σε μια οικογένεια, κάτι σαν πρώιμο airbnb αλλά φύγανε και πήγανε σε μια άλλη γιατί δεν τους άρεσε εκεί. Μου έκανε εντύπωση η άνεση που προχώρησαν σε μια ενέργεια καπιταλιστικού χαρακτήρα (προτίμηση μιας άλλης καλύτερης για αυτούς παροχής) παρόλο που ο ίδιος ήταν ορκισμένος κομμουνιστής (με τρεις μοτοσυκλέτες). Δεν ξέρω γιατί το αναφέρω αυτό αλλά το θυμήθηκα με την ανάγνωση του βιβλίου του Κάνεν, μια μάλλον σκληρή παραδοχή της αποτυχίας του καθεστώτος Κάστρο και των ονείρων που είχαν καλλιεργηθεί. Σαν μυθιστόρημα δεν λέει πολλά, άλλωστε σε λιγότερες από εκατό σελίδες τι θα μπορούσε να πει. Απλά είναι ένας μικρός ψίθυρος "μάλλον κάπου κάναμε κάτι λάθος" ειδικά δε το επίμετρο. Επίσης γενναία επιλογή από τον "Ικαρό". Θα πρότεινα την ανάγνωση σε συνδυασμό ενός ευτελούς αστυνομικού του Μάρτιν Κρούζ Σμίθ την "Αβάνα" νομίζω ότι αυτά τα δύο θα ταίριαζαν.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
May 21, 2022
Ο εγγονός του Τσε γράφει ένα ειλικρινές αλά δυστυχώς μικρό οδοιπορικό στην Κούβα του εγκλωβισμού και της απόγνωσης. Υπέροχο, αλλά μικρό.
March 22, 2021
3,5!!!
December 6, 2016
4,5
Μια θλιμμένη, γλαφυρή νουβέλα σαν γρατζουνισμένος δίσκος, με 33 κεφάλαια/στροφές, που διαβάζεται απνευστί και παρουσιάζει εξαιρετικά τις ματαιώσεις μιας γενιάς που πίστεψε στην επανάσταση και ηττήθηκε κατά κράτος. Όλα επαναλαμβάνονται: κάθε μέρα είναι επανάληψη των προηγουμένων, κάθε εβδομάδα, κάθε μήνας, κάθε χρόνος, κι από επανάληψη σε επανάληψη, ο ήχος εκφυλίζεται ώσπου δεν μένει παρά μια θολή και ανεγνώριστη ανάμνηση του αρχικού ακούσματος — η μουσική εξαφανίζεται, παίρνει τη θέση της ένα βραχνό, ακατάληπτο μουρμουρητό...Μια Κούβα χιλιοπαιγμένος δίσκος 33 στροφών, που ο αφηγητής αγαπά και μισεί ταυτόχρονα.
Μια θλιμμένη, γλαφυρή νουβέλα σαν γρατζουνισμένος δίσκος, με 33 κεφάλαια/στροφές, που διαβάζεται απνευστί και παρουσιάζει εξαιρετικά τις ματαιώσεις μιας γενιάς που πίστεψε στην επανάσταση και ηττήθηκε κατά κράτος. Όλα επαναλαμβάνονται: κάθε μέρα είναι επανάληψη των προηγουμένων, κάθε εβδομάδα, κάθε μήνας, κάθε χρόνος, κι από επανάληψη σε επανάληψη, ο ήχος εκφυλίζεται ώσπου δεν μένει παρά μια θολή και ανεγνώριστη ανάμνηση του αρχικού ακούσματος — η μουσική εξαφανίζεται, παίρνει τη θέση της ένα βραχνό, ακατάληπτο μουρμουρητό...Μια Κούβα χιλιοπαιγμένος δίσκος 33 στροφών, που ο αφηγητής αγαπά και μισεί ταυτόχρονα.
February 8, 2017
Read for the 21st Century Literature group.
Interlibrary loan from Cambridge, Massachusetts.
This small volume (very nicely packaged btw) was more freeform verse than prose. An unnamed protagonist and his stream of consciousness in Castro Cuba. Hope, despair, and quite a bit symbolism.
Beautiful language.
Interlibrary loan from Cambridge, Massachusetts.
This small volume (very nicely packaged btw) was more freeform verse than prose. An unnamed protagonist and his stream of consciousness in Castro Cuba. Hope, despair, and quite a bit symbolism.
Beautiful language.
January 6, 2017
This short novella allows readers to see little pieces of Cuban life which I found very interesting. I enjoyed the flow of the writing and although the "scratched record" idea is repetitious it didn't bother me quite as much as some of the other reviewers here.
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