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El cerebro musical: relatos reunidos
Un genio de la botella de leche mágica que te ofrece elegir entre ser Picasso o tener un Picasso; un perro furioso que le ladra a un colectivo en marcha y un pasajero que recuerda algo que había creído olvidado; una inmutable tradición del universo que reúne a Dios y a sus únicos invitados, los monos, a tomar el té una vez al año; un grupo de veinteañeros entusiastas que se entregan a la búsqueda de la simetría...
El cerebro musical recoge, en esta nueva edición de su Relatos reunidos, una selección de cuentos escritos por Aira entre 1996 y 2011, a los que se añaden tres cuentos autobiográficos inéditos: «Duchamp en México», «Taxol» y «La broma». Estos veinte relatos, a medio camino entre el cuento y la crónica imaginada, ponen de manifiesto el genio inclasificable del autor, uno de los autores más valorados del panorama literario en lengua castellana.
El cerebro musical recoge, en esta nueva edición de su Relatos reunidos, una selección de cuentos escritos por Aira entre 1996 y 2011, a los que se añaden tres cuentos autobiográficos inéditos: «Duchamp en México», «Taxol» y «La broma». Estos veinte relatos, a medio camino entre el cuento y la crónica imaginada, ponen de manifiesto el genio inclasificable del autor, uno de los autores más valorados del panorama literario en lengua castellana.
288 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2005
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About the author
César Aira
260 books1,146 followersCésar Aira was born in Coronel Pringles, Argentina in 1949, and has lived in Buenos Aires since 1967. He taught at the University of Buenos Aires (about Copi and Rimbaud) and at the University of Rosario (Constructivism and Mallarmé), and has translated and edited books from France, England, Italy, Brazil, Spain, Mexico, and Venezuela. Perhaps one of the most prolific writers in Argentina, and certainly one of the most talked about in Latin America, Aira has published more than eighty books to date in Argentina, Mexico, Colombia, Venezuela, Chile, and Spain, which have been translated for France, Great Britain, Italy, Brazil, Portugal, Greece, Austria, Romania, Russia, and now the United States. One novel, La prueba, has been made into a feature film, and How I Became a Nun was chosen as one of Argentina’s ten best books. Besides essays and novels Aira writes regularly for the Spanish newspaper El País. In 1996 he received a Guggenheim scholarship, in 2002 he was short listed for the Rómulo Gallegos prize, and has been shortlisted for the Man Booker International Prize.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 106 reviews
December 27, 2018
This was very thoughtfully given to me on my birthday this year by a writer friend who considers it one of his favorites. So for me it was an open invitation to read these pieces as they are but also possibly as a way to understand HIM better, as a writer.
As for Aira, I don't have a lot to say. I will confess that toward the end of the book, I was tempted to skim, as the tone of the pieces really began to drag for me. The endlessly discursive style and the mental meandering gets tiresome for those of us seeking specificity and clarity. Part of this might have to do with translation -- not just translation of language, but translation of personality and culture?
Totally worth it: "The Dog" story, perhaps one of the finest things I have ever read on the subject of guilt and conscience. Utterly and completely human.
As for Aira, I don't have a lot to say. I will confess that toward the end of the book, I was tempted to skim, as the tone of the pieces really began to drag for me. The endlessly discursive style and the mental meandering gets tiresome for those of us seeking specificity and clarity. Part of this might have to do with translation -- not just translation of language, but translation of personality and culture?
Totally worth it: "The Dog" story, perhaps one of the finest things I have ever read on the subject of guilt and conscience. Utterly and completely human.
September 16, 2017
César Aira’s influences are rather apparent: Marcel Schwob,
Raymond Roussel
and, of course,
Jorge Luis Borges
but he is more on the side of satire so in his hands symbolism, surrealism and magical realism turn into the weapon of ridicule.
In the Café is my favourite tale in the collection – it’s a great parable of art and gnoseology. The title story The Musical Brain is almost the Kafkian fable of a cryptic metamorphosis but it is a murderous mockery.
Acts of Charity is an excellent philosophically satiric allegory of wealth and poverty. The rich are always seduced by altruism and philanthropy and tempted to be charitable and help the poor… But they successfully fight the temptation and in the end win.
Therefore the rich keep getting richer and the poor keep getting poorer.
The little girl’s rapid consumption of novelties was accepted as something natural, even exciting. This is how it should always be, some people were thinking, philosophically: getting and losing, enjoying and letting go. Everything passes, and that’s why we’re here. Eternity and its more or less convincing simulacra are not a part of life.
In the Café is my favourite tale in the collection – it’s a great parable of art and gnoseology. The title story The Musical Brain is almost the Kafkian fable of a cryptic metamorphosis but it is a murderous mockery.
Acts of Charity is an excellent philosophically satiric allegory of wealth and poverty. The rich are always seduced by altruism and philanthropy and tempted to be charitable and help the poor… But they successfully fight the temptation and in the end win.
The way they see it, the poor deserve the conditions they live in, because they’re lazy or don’t even want to improve themselves; whatever you give them will only prolong their poverty. They’ve never known anything else, and they’re satisfied with what they know. In merely practical terms, without having to go into moral, historical, or sociological considerations, it’s obvious that poverty, especially in its extreme forms, is a phase that societies have to go through, and can’t simply be eliminated. Why even try? The poor live happily with their lacks, and don’t even see them as such.
Therefore the rich keep getting richer and the poor keep getting poorer.
June 7, 2023
There's a story entitled "Cecil Taylor" in this collection. I don't have heroes these days but, if I did, Cecil Taylor would surely be near the top of the list. So it was a certainty that I was going to pick up this book.
The "Cecil Taylor" story is a very good one. I don't know how much of the story is based in fact and how much is myth. Over time, fact and myth can merge and become one. I'm just happy that the story is real.
There are at least two other stories in The Music Brain : and Other Stories that I know will remain with me over time: "The Dog", a haunting, searing tale of guilt, conscience, and memory; and "Poverty": "Maybe that's why you resent me, but it's the source of all your originality, and given your maladaptation, without originality, you're nothing." I've never been truly poor and I hope that I never will be, but Poverty's argument seemed to be a convincing one for the narrator of the story, though there may well be some twisted irony involved there.
Some of the other stories in this collection turn in on themselves in ways that didn't grab me, and made for sluggish reading, but I'll remember the three stories mentioned above and that's enough for me.
The "Cecil Taylor" story is a very good one. I don't know how much of the story is based in fact and how much is myth. Over time, fact and myth can merge and become one. I'm just happy that the story is real.
There are at least two other stories in The Music Brain : and Other Stories that I know will remain with me over time: "The Dog", a haunting, searing tale of guilt, conscience, and memory; and "Poverty": "Maybe that's why you resent me, but it's the source of all your originality, and given your maladaptation, without originality, you're nothing." I've never been truly poor and I hope that I never will be, but Poverty's argument seemed to be a convincing one for the narrator of the story, though there may well be some twisted irony involved there.
Some of the other stories in this collection turn in on themselves in ways that didn't grab me, and made for sluggish reading, but I'll remember the three stories mentioned above and that's enough for me.
March 23, 2015
Aira deals in the higher geometries of narrative. Sometimes, his stories fold in on their own devices, examining their own technique and structure in startling ways. Because of Aira's warm sense of irony (he frequently enters his own stories as an unreliable narrator and evasive philosopher), he's able to do so without the particularly cold, reflexive feel of much avant-garde contemporary writing.
In fact, in one of his interviews, he rejects "avant-garde" as a military term, and says that his aim is not to deconstruct. He loves it all. By appearing often in his own work, he injects a sense of humanity and tenderness into complex, almost mathematical forms. For me, the result is a sense of wonder and continuing curiosity.
I particularly liked "A Brick Wall," "The Cart," and "The Spy" for their sense of nostalgia and for how they always stayed a little out of reach before yielding their secrets. I read all three of these stories several times, and was amply rewarded for the work.
In fact, in one of his interviews, he rejects "avant-garde" as a military term, and says that his aim is not to deconstruct. He loves it all. By appearing often in his own work, he injects a sense of humanity and tenderness into complex, almost mathematical forms. For me, the result is a sense of wonder and continuing curiosity.
I particularly liked "A Brick Wall," "The Cart," and "The Spy" for their sense of nostalgia and for how they always stayed a little out of reach before yielding their secrets. I read all three of these stories several times, and was amply rewarded for the work.
January 17, 2018
Descubro sin sorpresa que César Aira es el escritor del que más libros leí en mi vida. No me sorprende, y no me sorprende tampoco que no me haya dado cuenta antes: su influencia no es de impacto, sino sostenida a lo largo del tiempo. Sus libros te acompañan aun cuando lo gorrees con algún otro escritor insustancial, de moda; César Aira siempre está, es como tus viejos, como esa novia de la adolescencia a la que volvés cuando te encontrás perdido. Y así también es su literatura: sostenida, siempre igual en la variación, con una tranquilidad apasionada que parece desapasionada.
Ahora que vuelvo a leerlo después de un año pienso otras cosas (o más cosas que antes, mejor) sobre su estética. Como el gracioso o canchero de un grupo de amigos, Aira juega con las expectativas de los lectores. Los demás, nosotros los lectores, pensamos que es un boludo, que es medio bobo. Pero él se hace, toma nota de ese saber, tiene conciencia de cómo lo ven los demás, entonces nos agarra para la joda: “a ver hasta dónde son capaces de soportarme, hasta dónde de estas locuras pueden aguantar”, se dice y nos dice. Estira permanentemente los límites, nos coloca en una posición incómoda, nos desafía a confrontar con su supuesta falta de luces. ¿Aira es boludo o se hace? No hay una respuesta a esta pregunta, si la hubiera se acabaría el brillo de su literatura.
A veces, nosotros los lectores, nos sentimos que efectivamente nos agarra de boludos. En esos momentos, el pacto de verosimilitud se quiebra, sabemos que algo raro hay, que no puede ser que un genio de una botella pueda darte a elegir una obra de arte para que te lleves del museo de Picasso, que la Pobreza no se le puede aparecer personificada a un personaje, que las gotas de pintura de la Gioconda no se pueden escapar del Louvre por cuenta propia. Por eso sus mejores relatos son cuando hay un equilibro: ni él tan bobo como escritor y narrador ni nosotros tan giles como lectores. Cuando pasa eso, uno se siente (digo “uno” y hablo por todos como un futbolista, me encanta) poderosamente atraído por cada una de sus palabras.
A mí esta frase que dice uno de sus narradores en el cuento “Taxol” (el mismo César Aira, obviamente) me llenó de luz con respecto a la fórmula de su proceder, su escritura: siento le saqué la ficha, pero no sé, puedo estar equivocado, en todo caso será una lectura errónea y propia. “Después de todo, ningún lector puede tener la certeza del origen de mis escritos, porque nunca puede terminar de creerme”. Ese es el lector ideal de César Aira, que todavía me sigo preguntando si existe: aquel que cree absolutamente todo lo que escribe. ¿Le diría Aira a ese lector en la cara: “de verdad te creiste eso, salame, gil, jajaja, ¿lo llegaste a terminar?" ¿Tendría el valor, los huevos? Yo te creo, Cesarito. Cada tanto leo alguna novela o relato que me cansa y abandono; pero yo igual te creo.
Larga vida al Maestro.
Ahora que vuelvo a leerlo después de un año pienso otras cosas (o más cosas que antes, mejor) sobre su estética. Como el gracioso o canchero de un grupo de amigos, Aira juega con las expectativas de los lectores. Los demás, nosotros los lectores, pensamos que es un boludo, que es medio bobo. Pero él se hace, toma nota de ese saber, tiene conciencia de cómo lo ven los demás, entonces nos agarra para la joda: “a ver hasta dónde son capaces de soportarme, hasta dónde de estas locuras pueden aguantar”, se dice y nos dice. Estira permanentemente los límites, nos coloca en una posición incómoda, nos desafía a confrontar con su supuesta falta de luces. ¿Aira es boludo o se hace? No hay una respuesta a esta pregunta, si la hubiera se acabaría el brillo de su literatura.
A veces, nosotros los lectores, nos sentimos que efectivamente nos agarra de boludos. En esos momentos, el pacto de verosimilitud se quiebra, sabemos que algo raro hay, que no puede ser que un genio de una botella pueda darte a elegir una obra de arte para que te lleves del museo de Picasso, que la Pobreza no se le puede aparecer personificada a un personaje, que las gotas de pintura de la Gioconda no se pueden escapar del Louvre por cuenta propia. Por eso sus mejores relatos son cuando hay un equilibro: ni él tan bobo como escritor y narrador ni nosotros tan giles como lectores. Cuando pasa eso, uno se siente (digo “uno” y hablo por todos como un futbolista, me encanta) poderosamente atraído por cada una de sus palabras.
A mí esta frase que dice uno de sus narradores en el cuento “Taxol” (el mismo César Aira, obviamente) me llenó de luz con respecto a la fórmula de su proceder, su escritura: siento le saqué la ficha, pero no sé, puedo estar equivocado, en todo caso será una lectura errónea y propia. “Después de todo, ningún lector puede tener la certeza del origen de mis escritos, porque nunca puede terminar de creerme”. Ese es el lector ideal de César Aira, que todavía me sigo preguntando si existe: aquel que cree absolutamente todo lo que escribe. ¿Le diría Aira a ese lector en la cara: “de verdad te creiste eso, salame, gil, jajaja, ¿lo llegaste a terminar?" ¿Tendría el valor, los huevos? Yo te creo, Cesarito. Cada tanto leo alguna novela o relato que me cansa y abandono; pero yo igual te creo.
Larga vida al Maestro.
September 21, 2022
"Her şey sihirli bir süt şişesinden cinin çıkıp da bana, Picasso olmayı mı bir Picasso'ya sahip olmayı mı tercih ettiğimi sormasıyla başladı. İkisine de razı gelebilirdim ama 'sadece biri' diyerek uyardı beni."
Sevgili Cesar Aira, canım Aira. Dördüncü buluşmamız itibariyle kâni oldum ki sana asla alışamayacağım, yanında asla tam bir konfor hissedemeyeceğim, tam tuhaf zihnini anladığımı sandığım anda çok acayip bir cümle kuracaksın ve hop ben yine kafam karmakarışık olmuş halde suratına bön bön bakacağım - ama gel gör ki bunlar olurken bir yandan sürekli güleceğiz (ben, en azından) ve bu yüzden senden asla kopamayacağım. N'apiyim, sen de böylesin işte ve ben seni de, geometrik çalışan tuhaf hayal gücünü de çok seviyorum. Bak, sayende bir hayal gücünü geometrik olarak nitelemek gibi saçma sapan bir iş yaptım. Hadi buyur.
Müzikli Beyin'e gelelim. Gelmeyi deneyelim yani en azından. Aira'nın üzerindeki Borges etkisini en somut biçimde gördüğüm eseri oldu bu. Daha önce üç novellasını okumuştum, bu görece hacimli öykü derlemesiyle kendisine azıcık daha yaklaşabilmiş hissediyorum. Bu kitaptaki metinlerin kimileri öyküler, kimileri hayata dair çeşitli düşünceler. Denemeler diyemeyeceğim, değiller çünkü, bunlar başka bir şey. Aira'nın kimseye benzemeyen zihninden çıkan tuhaf, çokça komik ama bir yandan da müthiş ufuk açıcı birtakım şeyler.
Aira'yı tanımlamak çok zor, çok. Çok avangard, çok oyuncu ve -boşuna seçmedim o sözcüğü- çok... geometrik. Yani nasıl demeli, bu ele avuca sığmayan öykülerin hepsi bir yandan da bir matematiksel mantığa ve bütünlüğe oturuyorlar, ne tuhaf bir iştir bu? Kitap boyunca Mona Lisa'nın çerçevesinden çıkıp dünyaya yayılan boya damlacıklarını (bir tanesi Papa ile evlenmeye kalkıp onu kilisede terk ediyor, mesela...), aynı kitabı sürekli ama daha ucuza satın alarak kâr ettiğini ve zenginleştiğini düşünen bir adamı, bir süpermarket arabası ile dostluk kurduğunu sanıp aldanan bir diğerini filan okuyacaksınız. Beyninizi bugüne dek bildiklerinden arındırmaya razı değilseniz (ki zor) hiç denemeyin bile diyeceğim. Başka türlü bu kitabı anlamak da, sevmek de imkansız bence.
Ve ben çok sevdim. <3
Sevgili Cesar Aira, canım Aira. Dördüncü buluşmamız itibariyle kâni oldum ki sana asla alışamayacağım, yanında asla tam bir konfor hissedemeyeceğim, tam tuhaf zihnini anladığımı sandığım anda çok acayip bir cümle kuracaksın ve hop ben yine kafam karmakarışık olmuş halde suratına bön bön bakacağım - ama gel gör ki bunlar olurken bir yandan sürekli güleceğiz (ben, en azından) ve bu yüzden senden asla kopamayacağım. N'apiyim, sen de böylesin işte ve ben seni de, geometrik çalışan tuhaf hayal gücünü de çok seviyorum. Bak, sayende bir hayal gücünü geometrik olarak nitelemek gibi saçma sapan bir iş yaptım. Hadi buyur.
Müzikli Beyin'e gelelim. Gelmeyi deneyelim yani en azından. Aira'nın üzerindeki Borges etkisini en somut biçimde gördüğüm eseri oldu bu. Daha önce üç novellasını okumuştum, bu görece hacimli öykü derlemesiyle kendisine azıcık daha yaklaşabilmiş hissediyorum. Bu kitaptaki metinlerin kimileri öyküler, kimileri hayata dair çeşitli düşünceler. Denemeler diyemeyeceğim, değiller çünkü, bunlar başka bir şey. Aira'nın kimseye benzemeyen zihninden çıkan tuhaf, çokça komik ama bir yandan da müthiş ufuk açıcı birtakım şeyler.
Aira'yı tanımlamak çok zor, çok. Çok avangard, çok oyuncu ve -boşuna seçmedim o sözcüğü- çok... geometrik. Yani nasıl demeli, bu ele avuca sığmayan öykülerin hepsi bir yandan da bir matematiksel mantığa ve bütünlüğe oturuyorlar, ne tuhaf bir iştir bu? Kitap boyunca Mona Lisa'nın çerçevesinden çıkıp dünyaya yayılan boya damlacıklarını (bir tanesi Papa ile evlenmeye kalkıp onu kilisede terk ediyor, mesela...), aynı kitabı sürekli ama daha ucuza satın alarak kâr ettiğini ve zenginleştiğini düşünen bir adamı, bir süpermarket arabası ile dostluk kurduğunu sanıp aldanan bir diğerini filan okuyacaksınız. Beyninizi bugüne dek bildiklerinden arındırmaya razı değilseniz (ki zor) hiç denemeyin bile diyeceğim. Başka türlü bu kitabı anlamak da, sevmek de imkansız bence.
Ve ben çok sevdim. <3
May 3, 2021
Bold, daring, honest, allusive, cryptic, punchy, dark, reflective, and full of humour. Just some of the words to come to mind when I think about these twenty pieces. Some are stories; some are reflections on life. All make you think about things. Love, marriage, friendships, childhood, sickness and death. What more can one write about?
Picasso. Would you want a Picasso painting or his talent? “En el café” and watch how all the patrons are coming up with creative designs to entertain a young child running among the chairs. “El cerebro musical” sounds like a whimsical story but it has a dark side. “Mil gotas” takes on a very surrealistic view of the theft of the Mona Lisa (what imagination!), and an absolute hilarious side of two kids playing a numbers game in “El infinito.”
My personal favourites were two of the three “autobiographical” stories at the end of the book. “Duchamp in Mexico” hits home. On a trip to Mexico City, our narrator decides to buy an art book on Duchamp. Not a book on Mexican artist but rather a book on a French surrealist artist. Why? His life is like a Duchamp art piece. This is not a positive attribute.
The first book he buys for 99 pesos. Then he spots the same book at another Sanborns for less. He buys it. As he wanders from bookstore to bookstore buying more books. Each one gets cheaper. Math and economics come into play. The Mexican pesos has been devalued and it makes more sense to buy more.
In the end he buys ten books, going as low as 53 pesos. Almost half price. He has scored big. The fact that he blended mathematics with art pleases him. He believes, although admits he is poor with numbers, he saved a lot of money (in his mind). Making a novel is like his search for the better buys. He seems fulfilled. It’s all very surreal.
The toughest to read is “La broma,” the story of his wife who had mental health issues when they moved to Berlin. His very honest and candid thoughts of marriage were hard to read, and yet say so much about those we marry.
This was my first experience with Cesar Aira. It won’t be my last. What took me so long is the real question?
Picasso. Would you want a Picasso painting or his talent? “En el café” and watch how all the patrons are coming up with creative designs to entertain a young child running among the chairs. “El cerebro musical” sounds like a whimsical story but it has a dark side. “Mil gotas” takes on a very surrealistic view of the theft of the Mona Lisa (what imagination!), and an absolute hilarious side of two kids playing a numbers game in “El infinito.”
My personal favourites were two of the three “autobiographical” stories at the end of the book. “Duchamp in Mexico” hits home. On a trip to Mexico City, our narrator decides to buy an art book on Duchamp. Not a book on Mexican artist but rather a book on a French surrealist artist. Why? His life is like a Duchamp art piece. This is not a positive attribute.
The first book he buys for 99 pesos. Then he spots the same book at another Sanborns for less. He buys it. As he wanders from bookstore to bookstore buying more books. Each one gets cheaper. Math and economics come into play. The Mexican pesos has been devalued and it makes more sense to buy more.
In the end he buys ten books, going as low as 53 pesos. Almost half price. He has scored big. The fact that he blended mathematics with art pleases him. He believes, although admits he is poor with numbers, he saved a lot of money (in his mind). Making a novel is like his search for the better buys. He seems fulfilled. It’s all very surreal.
The toughest to read is “La broma,” the story of his wife who had mental health issues when they moved to Berlin. His very honest and candid thoughts of marriage were hard to read, and yet say so much about those we marry.
This was my first experience with Cesar Aira. It won’t be my last. What took me so long is the real question?
May 9, 2015
there is always so much to love in the works of césar aira. he may well be one of the most unpredictable fiction writers in contemporary literature, with each novella or story more bizarre or unexpected than the last. he's well known, of course, for not revising his works as he writes them, favoring instead a "flight forward" approach.
the musical brain and other stories collects twenty of aira's stories, spanning nearly twenty years of his writing. while some of the stories are brief affairs, a few are more novella-like in length. largely absent from this collection, however, are the stylistic, thematic, and genre shifts that have characterized his previously translated novellas. nonetheless, the musical brain, for anyone who has had the distinct pleasure of reading aira in the past, contains nearly all of the admirable qualities we've come to anticipate and appreciate.
of the disparate stories making up aira's first short story collection to appear in english translation, some of the more notable ones include "the dog," "a thousand drops," "the all that plows through the nothing," "the cart," "poverty," "no witnesses," "the two men," "acts of charity," and "cecil taylor."
*translated from the spanish by chris andrews (bolaño, et al.)
**special mention should be made of the musical brain's lenticular book cover (designed by rodrigo corral and zak tebbal); an absolutely gorgeous, unforgettable, and entirely fitting way to jacket aira's singular stories.
the musical brain and other stories collects twenty of aira's stories, spanning nearly twenty years of his writing. while some of the stories are brief affairs, a few are more novella-like in length. largely absent from this collection, however, are the stylistic, thematic, and genre shifts that have characterized his previously translated novellas. nonetheless, the musical brain, for anyone who has had the distinct pleasure of reading aira in the past, contains nearly all of the admirable qualities we've come to anticipate and appreciate.
of the disparate stories making up aira's first short story collection to appear in english translation, some of the more notable ones include "the dog," "a thousand drops," "the all that plows through the nothing," "the cart," "poverty," "no witnesses," "the two men," "acts of charity," and "cecil taylor."
this is how it should always be, some people were thinking, philosophically: getting and losing, enjoying and letting go. everything passes, and that's why we're here. eternity and its more or less convincing simulacra are not a part of life.
*translated from the spanish by chris andrews (bolaño, et al.)
**special mention should be made of the musical brain's lenticular book cover (designed by rodrigo corral and zak tebbal); an absolutely gorgeous, unforgettable, and entirely fitting way to jacket aira's singular stories.
June 24, 2016
Una buena idea leer cuentos de Aira, tienen quizás lo mejor de él, los comienzos, la invención, y se terminan antes de que lleguen a aburrir (que a veces me ha pasado con algunas de sus novelas).
Mis preferidos: "El hornero", "El perro" y "Taxol" que es sobre un taxista, tópico que me encanta, y me causó mucha gracia, incluso en voz alta. Otros muy buenos: "Picasso", "La revista Atenea", "El Cerebro Musical".
Mis preferidos: "El hornero", "El perro" y "Taxol" que es sobre un taxista, tópico que me encanta, y me causó mucha gracia, incluso en voz alta. Otros muy buenos: "Picasso", "La revista Atenea", "El Cerebro Musical".
July 2, 2016
The Tenth Fold
Several of the twenty stories in this collection mention the fact that you cannot fold a sheet of paper in half more than nine times. The fact is not really essential to any of the stories in which it occurs, except that it sets up the legend of the tenth fold, that speculative but impossible extension to everyday logic to which only God and the mind of César Aira have access.
Those who have read Aira before will not look to him for a story in the normal narrative sense. He will start with a premise, a childhood memory or something quite simple and everyday. Before long, he will either be philosophizing on its implications or striking off in some totally unexpected direction. The "Musical Brain" of the title story, some kind of music-playing device, is only one of a number of oddities in a story that involves a restaurant where people pay with used books, a comedy theater, a circus, a love triangle between three midgets, and a flying mutant. The title of the opening story, "The Brick Wall," refers to the movie The Village of the Damned, one of the thousand or more Aira reckons he saw as a child, yet by a deliberate feat of misdirection he abandons that tack altogether and tells a story based on quite another movie, North by Northwest, before that too is abandoned and the story ends.
The spirit of Borges hovers over many of these tales, yet it is a Borges with a lighthearted sense of humor. Aira's attempts to bring out a literary "Athena Magazine" in his youth becomes an intricate series of minute calculations balancing the page count of the first issue against the publication's further prospects. The competition between the middle-aged patrons in "In the Café" to fold origami animals out of napkins to delight a four-year-old girl escalates until they are making intricate model universes, each of which the girl soon destroys in her childish glee. In "A Thousand Drops," the Mona Lisa dissolves into minute particles of paint which wander the universe, creating minor miracles or cosmic catastrophes wherever they touch down. In yet another story, two women friends who chat with each other incessantly while working out in the gym are seen as oracles for all the crises in the world.
It is bizarre stuff and curiously fascinating, but too rich to read all in a day or two. So I have paused at the halfway point, and will return later. But not without identifying my personal favorite, "God's Tea Party," in which God traditionally celebrates His birthday by throwing a party for the apes. By the end of it, by contrasting the grandeur of God with the tiniest imaginable subatomic particle, Aira has covered much the same ground as Stephen Hawking's A Brief History of Time , but in a marvelously entertaining way. Alas, not all the stories are as much fun or as meaningful, but Aira's particular brand of convoluted philosophy can be glimpsed throughout. Here, for example, is his explanation of the bad behavior of the apes at the tea table:
Several of the twenty stories in this collection mention the fact that you cannot fold a sheet of paper in half more than nine times. The fact is not really essential to any of the stories in which it occurs, except that it sets up the legend of the tenth fold, that speculative but impossible extension to everyday logic to which only God and the mind of César Aira have access.
Those who have read Aira before will not look to him for a story in the normal narrative sense. He will start with a premise, a childhood memory or something quite simple and everyday. Before long, he will either be philosophizing on its implications or striking off in some totally unexpected direction. The "Musical Brain" of the title story, some kind of music-playing device, is only one of a number of oddities in a story that involves a restaurant where people pay with used books, a comedy theater, a circus, a love triangle between three midgets, and a flying mutant. The title of the opening story, "The Brick Wall," refers to the movie The Village of the Damned, one of the thousand or more Aira reckons he saw as a child, yet by a deliberate feat of misdirection he abandons that tack altogether and tells a story based on quite another movie, North by Northwest, before that too is abandoned and the story ends.
The spirit of Borges hovers over many of these tales, yet it is a Borges with a lighthearted sense of humor. Aira's attempts to bring out a literary "Athena Magazine" in his youth becomes an intricate series of minute calculations balancing the page count of the first issue against the publication's further prospects. The competition between the middle-aged patrons in "In the Café" to fold origami animals out of napkins to delight a four-year-old girl escalates until they are making intricate model universes, each of which the girl soon destroys in her childish glee. In "A Thousand Drops," the Mona Lisa dissolves into minute particles of paint which wander the universe, creating minor miracles or cosmic catastrophes wherever they touch down. In yet another story, two women friends who chat with each other incessantly while working out in the gym are seen as oracles for all the crises in the world.
It is bizarre stuff and curiously fascinating, but too rich to read all in a day or two. So I have paused at the halfway point, and will return later. But not without identifying my personal favorite, "God's Tea Party," in which God traditionally celebrates His birthday by throwing a party for the apes. By the end of it, by contrasting the grandeur of God with the tiniest imaginable subatomic particle, Aira has covered much the same ground as Stephen Hawking's A Brief History of Time , but in a marvelously entertaining way. Alas, not all the stories are as much fun or as meaningful, but Aira's particular brand of convoluted philosophy can be glimpsed throughout. Here, for example, is his explanation of the bad behavior of the apes at the tea table:
The problem of the bad behavior might be due to the fact that God doesn't preside. Or rather, He does and He doesn't. As we know, God is omnipresent, which turns out to be very handy for carrying out His functions, but it has the drawback of preventing Him from being visibly present in a particular place, for example sitting at the head of the table, keeping things under control. His absence (if His omnipresence can be counted as an absence) could be regarded as a discourtesy that legitimates all the subsequent discourtesies of his guests: a host who fails to turn up to his own party thereby authorizes his guests to behave as they like.The excellent translation is by Chris Andrews.
April 6, 2015
Of course Cesar Aira has over 90 books, his stories have such manic energy and a sneaky speed that somehow defies his brain-trapped stories. This collection gets its title from an enigmatic object in a real firework of a story that comes 1/3 of the way into this small book (and sadly marks the end of its great moments); however, considering the collection's consistent narrator is ostensibly Aira himself, bubbling over with stories that seem to take musical phrasing as more of a narrative form than more traditional literary arcs, the title best doubles as a comment on the writer himself.
Only the final story (one that seemed strangely disconnected from the rest of the set with its biographical bent) seems to deal directly with music, but Aira's style has that technical approach to slapdash jazziness (and a slapdash jazz approach to the technical) that ties it to great contemporary music forms. It's problems are identical too: caught inside itself, the music (and Aira's writing) seems to lose track with the dazzling surreal moments in life it was capturing so well only to lean on questions about the medium itself for inspiration. This is abrasively true in stories like "The All That Plows Through the Nothing" and "The Criminal and the Cartoonist" that seem to purposefully dismantle themselves away from life and into the world of Literature with a capital L to frustrating effect.
Aira seems so full of ideas and a willingness to run with them, but stories like "Acts of Charity" and "The Ovenbird" seem intent on driving a single point home for pages that it is easy to forget the wonderful moments in other sections where dozens of points dance together on a single page. The stories making up the first third of the book (all of which tend to be more recent than later offerings) are so full of wonderful and childlike imaginations filtered through a literary mind that you feel you can follow Aira anywhere, the problem is when that "anywhere" leads to the rest of this collection.
Only the final story (one that seemed strangely disconnected from the rest of the set with its biographical bent) seems to deal directly with music, but Aira's style has that technical approach to slapdash jazziness (and a slapdash jazz approach to the technical) that ties it to great contemporary music forms. It's problems are identical too: caught inside itself, the music (and Aira's writing) seems to lose track with the dazzling surreal moments in life it was capturing so well only to lean on questions about the medium itself for inspiration. This is abrasively true in stories like "The All That Plows Through the Nothing" and "The Criminal and the Cartoonist" that seem to purposefully dismantle themselves away from life and into the world of Literature with a capital L to frustrating effect.
Aira seems so full of ideas and a willingness to run with them, but stories like "Acts of Charity" and "The Ovenbird" seem intent on driving a single point home for pages that it is easy to forget the wonderful moments in other sections where dozens of points dance together on a single page. The stories making up the first third of the book (all of which tend to be more recent than later offerings) are so full of wonderful and childlike imaginations filtered through a literary mind that you feel you can follow Aira anywhere, the problem is when that "anywhere" leads to the rest of this collection.
January 9, 2018
César Aira's The Musical Brain is a commanding performance, finding the fabulist once again blurring the imagined boundaries between genres, between so-called reality and so-called fantasy, music, biography, mathematics, science, among the subjects and forms, respectively, upended. The following quote from "Cecil Taylor," the collection's last story, serves as a possible guide to Aira's singular approach to narrative throughout this collection, and his writing as a whole:
"And what counts in literature is detail, atmosphere, and the right balance between the two. The exact detail, which makes things visible, and an evocative, overall atmosphere, without which the details would be a disjointed inventory. Atmosphere allows the author to work with forces freed of function, and with movements in a space that is independent of location, a space that finally abolishes the difference between writer and the written...the great manifold tunnel in broad daylight..."
"And what counts in literature is detail, atmosphere, and the right balance between the two. The exact detail, which makes things visible, and an evocative, overall atmosphere, without which the details would be a disjointed inventory. Atmosphere allows the author to work with forces freed of function, and with movements in a space that is independent of location, a space that finally abolishes the difference between writer and the written...the great manifold tunnel in broad daylight..."
March 1, 2019
Like a Latin-American Calvino. Great stuff!
January 23, 2017
Este libro me confirmó que me gusta más el concepto de Aira que su literatura per se. Al haber tantos relatos reunidos y leerlos uno tras otro, queda en evidencia su artificio. Esto no le hace justicia al aspecto principal de la obra aireana: su dispersión, su factor sorpresa. Tengo muchos de los libritos aquí recogidos ("En el café", "Mil gotas") y son mucho más atractivos en sus versiones originales que en esta recopilación insulsa de Penguin Random House Mondadori. Sin embargo, como es Aira, me sorprendieron varias historias: la del juego de decir un número mayor, la del taxi, la de la revista independiente, la del osito de Coca cola.
July 1, 2020
Aira's writing inspires both envy and annoyance. The former being the more excruciating. Part of his brilliance is in getting carried away, but he doesn't always carry the reader with him. His powers are nonetheless undeniable. Aira is at his most obnoxious in the penultimate story, but the final one, about the early failures of my favorite jazz musician, Cecil Taylor, cemented my emotional bond with his work. I simultaneously look forward to and dread getting into the novellas.
October 3, 2015
The part of my soul that endlessly delights in Calvino was well-nourished by this collection of screwy, fantastic short stories. I read it while driving to and from work over the course of a month, and it never failed to make me at least a little giddy. Favorites included God's Tea Party (in which sub-atomic particles crash a recurring event held for the apes); A Thousand Drops (in which all the paint drops comprising the Mona Lisa decide to leave the painting and go on myriad wild adventures); In The Cafe (in which diners amuse a little girl by folding improbable creations from napkins); The All That Plows Through The Nothing (in which a writer sees the back of a ghost); The Ovenbird (in which a bird looks at humans with the assumption that instinct alone guides human action); Acts of Charity (in which a priest builds a magnificent residence to pave the way for his successor priest to be able to devote 100% of his time to the poor surrounding said residence). Mr. Aira's imagination is a fearsome and wonderful thing.
May 20, 2015
It's only a collection of short stories, but is Aira becoming my other favorite Argentine author? He's written 80+ books... more than enough to find out :-)
October 3, 2016
The Musical Brain, a beautifully done cloth bound edition with a shiny laminated cover is by notable Latin American author Cesar Aria (translated by Chris Andrews). These 20 original unique short stories rich in observational detail and at times, mathematical formulas illustrate the brilliant mind and intellect of the author.
In the first story, "A Brick Wall" a youth recalls his time spent at the cinema and great love for movie classics especially Alfred Hitchcock thrillers. There are many stories about writing and literary themes: "Athena Magazine" features the story of a magazine editor that becomes fixated on the appearance (including mathematical design and format) rather than original goal of bringing poetry, love (stories) and revolutionary ideas to readers. Another writer focus is on the autobiographical elements in the work of "Picasso" ( also the story title) for his inspirational notebook writing.
"The Dog" is one of the shortest stories about a man that becomes terribly annoyed and fixated on a barking dog in his neighborhood. In "The Musical Brain" a young girl recalls her 1950's childhood visit with her family members to the circus in Pringles. It is unclear why this may have been the highlight of the story collection. The girl became fearful after seeing some of the circus acts, suggesting a surreal theme. Speaking of surreal themes, the shortest most enjoyable story was "No Witnesses" though there was foul play involved the story had a simplistic quality and wasn't over written or analyzed. "The Two Men" is a longer story, where a student of social work attempted to assist two men who lived in isolation. Unable to photograph these men, the worry is about how he will portray them for his assignment. The last story, "Cecil Taylor" begins with the observations of a weary prostitute, before it switches over to a bluesman who supports himself with menial labor jobs while trying to find work as a musician.
The book includes pages of rave reviews from notable publications and authors. The literary themes and literature references in the stories may be of particular interest for readers, the story details were typically extensive. The appeal was rapidly lost when the narratives often went off on various tangents. Despite rereading several stories and passages, the story themes, ideas, and meanings were often lost in overwhelming observations, or it wasn't clear what the author was attempting to say. This may have been due to the translation (though it seemed alright), or cultural differences. ~ Many thanks and much appreciation to New Directions Books for the ARC for the purpose of review.
In the first story, "A Brick Wall" a youth recalls his time spent at the cinema and great love for movie classics especially Alfred Hitchcock thrillers. There are many stories about writing and literary themes: "Athena Magazine" features the story of a magazine editor that becomes fixated on the appearance (including mathematical design and format) rather than original goal of bringing poetry, love (stories) and revolutionary ideas to readers. Another writer focus is on the autobiographical elements in the work of "Picasso" ( also the story title) for his inspirational notebook writing.
"The Dog" is one of the shortest stories about a man that becomes terribly annoyed and fixated on a barking dog in his neighborhood. In "The Musical Brain" a young girl recalls her 1950's childhood visit with her family members to the circus in Pringles. It is unclear why this may have been the highlight of the story collection. The girl became fearful after seeing some of the circus acts, suggesting a surreal theme. Speaking of surreal themes, the shortest most enjoyable story was "No Witnesses" though there was foul play involved the story had a simplistic quality and wasn't over written or analyzed. "The Two Men" is a longer story, where a student of social work attempted to assist two men who lived in isolation. Unable to photograph these men, the worry is about how he will portray them for his assignment. The last story, "Cecil Taylor" begins with the observations of a weary prostitute, before it switches over to a bluesman who supports himself with menial labor jobs while trying to find work as a musician.
The book includes pages of rave reviews from notable publications and authors. The literary themes and literature references in the stories may be of particular interest for readers, the story details were typically extensive. The appeal was rapidly lost when the narratives often went off on various tangents. Despite rereading several stories and passages, the story themes, ideas, and meanings were often lost in overwhelming observations, or it wasn't clear what the author was attempting to say. This may have been due to the translation (though it seemed alright), or cultural differences. ~ Many thanks and much appreciation to New Directions Books for the ARC for the purpose of review.
November 26, 2020
The more I read of César Aira, the more I like him. This time, I read a selection of his shorter works called The Musical Brain: And Other Stories. Most of the stories were interesting; some were outright genius, including the title story, "God's Tea Party," and "Acts of Charity." Tacked on to the end was something that could be read either as a short story or an essay on the pianist Cecil Taylor, a pioneer of free jazz, concentrating on the frustrating years before his music came to be accepted.
Which reminds me of Cesar Aira, certainly a queer duck insofar as conventional literature is concerned. I compare him to a literary Roomba vacuum cleaner. He starts at a certain point, which does not necessarily segue smoothly to the next and subsequent points.
"The Musical Brain," for instance, concerns certain of Aira's childhood memories in his native town of Coronel Pringles, southeast of Buenos Aires. He juggles with a fancy hotel dinner, a visit to a theater performance, and the arrival of a circus into town. A further segue tells of three dwarves missing from the circus, one of which is armed and hunting for the other male dwarf who was messing with his dwarf wife -- who, by the way, turns into some strange kind of mutant who can fly, and who lays an egg at the end. Got that?
Which reminds me of Cesar Aira, certainly a queer duck insofar as conventional literature is concerned. I compare him to a literary Roomba vacuum cleaner. He starts at a certain point, which does not necessarily segue smoothly to the next and subsequent points.
"The Musical Brain," for instance, concerns certain of Aira's childhood memories in his native town of Coronel Pringles, southeast of Buenos Aires. He juggles with a fancy hotel dinner, a visit to a theater performance, and the arrival of a circus into town. A further segue tells of three dwarves missing from the circus, one of which is armed and hunting for the other male dwarf who was messing with his dwarf wife -- who, by the way, turns into some strange kind of mutant who can fly, and who lays an egg at the end. Got that?
October 19, 2015
Some of the stories in this collection, which includes twenty stories spanning twenty years, are the best things I've ever read by César Aira. "In the Café" takes a banal story of little kid who is entertained by folded napkins—and repeats it to absurdity. "God's Tea Party" recalls Calvino with its screwy take on particle physics. It also brings to mind David Foster Wallace, with its anthropological riff on theology.
Several stories foreground the social concerns of Latin America. "The Dog" is a Kafkaesque tale of a man who is hounded by his guilt for an unspecified wrong. "The Topiary Bears of Parque Arauco" contrasts the glossy appeal of consumerism with the squalor of the slums. "Acts of Charity", written in 2010, seems inspired by Jorge Mario Bergoglio, who would later become Pope Francis.
Several stories foreground the social concerns of Latin America. "The Dog" is a Kafkaesque tale of a man who is hounded by his guilt for an unspecified wrong. "The Topiary Bears of Parque Arauco" contrasts the glossy appeal of consumerism with the squalor of the slums. "Acts of Charity", written in 2010, seems inspired by Jorge Mario Bergoglio, who would later become Pope Francis.
June 6, 2015
I'm sorry, y'all. WHAT AM I MISSING? Everyone and their mother adores this book. I find it distracting, frenetic, confusing, impossible to follow. Aira begins on one topic then spirals into philosophical discussions that made my eyes glaze over. I don't understand the point, or maybe I just don't have the patience for it. I disliked it so much I didn't finish it, which I never do. I had a whole debate with myself about whether it would be better to skim the remaining 130 pages just to say I "finished" it, or to move on to another in my stack of library books and hopefully find something I actually enjoy. The promise of pleasure won out. Sorry, Aira fans. I don't know what I'm not getting, but I'm definitely not getting it.
February 22, 2016
This is the first book that I've read by this Argentinean writer. He reminded me of Borges and Italo Calvino. In fact, he reminded me too much of Borges and Calvino. At times I thought he was copying their styles. That said, a few of the stories in this collection are brilliant.
I'm sure there's a distinction between creative playfulness and frivolity. I can't say exactly what, but I know which is which when I see it. Aira and I probably don't agree on this. There are stories where he was trying hard to be playful, but they just turned out to be silly.
I'm sure there's a distinction between creative playfulness and frivolity. I can't say exactly what, but I know which is which when I see it. Aira and I probably don't agree on this. There are stories where he was trying hard to be playful, but they just turned out to be silly.
April 27, 2015
if there were any book justice in this screwy world, you would never have heard of nora roberts-patterson, but would worship cesar aira and the 80-plus-novel-god that he is.
and don't ever get in a death-fight with poverty. if she loses, you lose.
and don't ever get in a death-fight with poverty. if she loses, you lose.
April 26, 2019
A collection of short stories. I’d read two novellas by Aira a few years back and liked them enough to give this book a try. Not nearly as good as I’d hoped. Most stories felt unnecessarily long. Only a few decent tales. Overall, just okay.
April 9, 2015
This is the fifth book I've read by César Aira, and it is now perfectly clear to me that I will never be sure if I like him.
September 26, 2017
Aira's style is so precise and so camouflaged that it seems to be lacking style altogether. That is his triumph, and occasionally, his downfall. But mostly his triumph.
September 24, 2019
I like Aira’s novels more than his stories, but the title story and “Cecil Taylor” were both great.
June 6, 2016
Well let's see. I frequently say that for every reader there is a Cesar Aira book, at least one, that is almost perfect. The book tends to be different for each reader. I'll say The Musical Brain was not mine. That's my judicious statement.
There were a few stories with enough whimsy that I felt something of the transformation that his best work creates. But, in the end most of the characters in The Musical Brain are named Cesar Aira and really this mundaneness paired with digression after digression, hurts the overall product.
Overall, we drift in and out of some grey area between forms: the essay and the short story. In Spanish Aira's short pieces are termed relatos, which historically would mean they focus less on narrative arc when compared to the cuento form. There's truth to be had there, but it didn't stop me from drifting off to sleep in places.
But then there's "Cecil Taylor," a twisted TED talk about the infinities of failure. And that's about the only thing keeping The Musical Brain out of the two star gutter. Because that piece is as scintillant as broken glass glowing in a pile of puke.
There were a few stories with enough whimsy that I felt something of the transformation that his best work creates. But, in the end most of the characters in The Musical Brain are named Cesar Aira and really this mundaneness paired with digression after digression, hurts the overall product.
Overall, we drift in and out of some grey area between forms: the essay and the short story. In Spanish Aira's short pieces are termed relatos, which historically would mean they focus less on narrative arc when compared to the cuento form. There's truth to be had there, but it didn't stop me from drifting off to sleep in places.
But then there's "Cecil Taylor," a twisted TED talk about the infinities of failure. And that's about the only thing keeping The Musical Brain out of the two star gutter. Because that piece is as scintillant as broken glass glowing in a pile of puke.
March 11, 2015
.the best of Aira so far Englished (not read them all but most), something in every story catches and stops you, continuously felt echoes of Kafka, Calvino (borges seems an obvious precursor), Poe but cast anew and as a meta-artist there is probably no one more enjoyable and full of play than Aira...also in shorter pieces his prose (translated by Chris Andrews here) sentence by sentence seems more than just a vehicle for his ideas....it's as if instead of writing and his other 'novels' where there is a patch that seems only to serve as transition and seems to be written quickly and just to move along, he is not afforded that here....and nobody is writing short stories like this...and various!
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