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144 pages, Kindle Edition
First published March 1, 2015
The formal structure of one long paragraph makes everything “falsely” connect, and makes language seem like a lake in which events or people might pop up and disappear, flying fish that hurl themselves upward for a taste of the fresh air before they plunge again into the depths of the sea.Granted not all Havilio’s transitions are entirely seamless—there were a couple of times I could definitely feel him taking a breath—but at least he keeps his sentences to a reasonable length.
This story begins when I was someone else.Of course we’re all so keen to get into the book we don’t pay it much attention. The protagonist, José—thirty-six—goes on to describe getting on his bike and pedalling off to work only to find his place of employment—a firework factory—has gone up in flames. He parks himself beside a “sizeable tree perched on a hill” and watches the emergency services get on with their business.
On Friday the redundancy telegram arrived.So he’s unemployed. He and Laura have a one-year-old daughter and the immediate solution to their financial worries is obvious:
Laura reacted coolly, saying that we had to be sensible in the circumstances. She could go back to work; her year off was beginning to feel too long after all. At first, with unthinking conformity, I objected, but the prospect of hunting for a job soon shut me up. Rent and food were non-negotiable expenses. Within the week, Laura went back to the publishing house and I was forced to become a housewife.And so, within a few pages, José’s transformation has become:
Worst of all was that dreary stretch in the middle of the afternoon, that sluggish, creeping time between lunch and Laura’s return. I entered a black hole in which I could will myself with equal conviction to change the world or to vanish without trace. My spirit had become a permanent hologram. No matter what attitude I tried to take, I’d end up falling into a trap; no initiative ever got beyond the limbo of assertions.Another little sentence that’s easy to skip over without giving it much thought and, again, I find myself drawn to Jessica Sequeira’s review:
It isn’t entirely clear whether the events described occur in reality or within this “hologram”. But perhaps the disquieting suggestion here is that there really isn’t so much of a difference.I have to say when I was reading the book I never imagined for a second that what I was reading, no matter how absurd it got (and it gets pretty weird), wasn’t real. By the end of the book, however, José has been transformed—he is definitely someone else—but then so is everyone else in the book. His wife, for example (I’m assuming they’re married), has to return to work as a proof-reader rather than an editor and she finds that hard, so hard she ends up in a therapy group run by the charismatic Horacio that has all the makings of a cult. Meanwhile José becomes friends with his jazz-loving next-door neighbour Guillermo and I really didn’t see where that relationship was heading. (No, they don’t become lovers; that’d be far too easy.)