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112 pages, Paperback
First published October 1, 2016
This is the 3rd of their books I have read after Ariana Harwicz's Die My Love, deservedly featured in the 2017 Republic of Consciousness Prize (my review) and Ricardo Romero's deceptively simple The President's Room (my review), and the 4th, on my TBR shelves, Fireflies, looks perhaps the most interesting of all.
We select authors whose works feed the imagination, challenge perspective and spark debate. Authors that are shining lights in the world of contemporary literature. Authors whose works have won awards and received critical acclaim. Bestselling authors. Yet authors you perhaps have never heard of. Because none of them have been published in English.
Until now.
The man who landed in Buenos Aires in 1871 bore the name of Johannes Dahlmann and he was a minister in the Evangelical Church. In 1939, one of his grandchlidren, Juan Dahlmann, was secretary of a municipal library on Calle Cordoba, and he considered himself profoundly Argentinian.In Consiglia's retelling we have the same story revolving around a near-fatal head wound caused by rushing in excitement and tripping on stairs, although the excitement here is from a discovery of a crucial chess move rather than a rare book.
He quickly recalled that in a cafe on the Calle Brazil (a few dozen feet from Yrigoyen's house) there was an enormous cat which allowed itself to be caressed as if it were a disdainful divinity. He entered the cafe. There was the cat, asleep. He ordered a cup of coffee, slowly stirred the sugar, sipped it (this pleasure had been denied him in the clinic), and thought, as he smoothed the cat's black coat, that this contact was an illusion and that the two beings, man and cat, were as good as separated by a glass, for man lives in time, in succession, while the magical animal lives in the present, in the eternity of the instant.And the knife-fight of the original is, fittingly for the 21st Century, replaced by a road-rage confrontation, although in each case the reader is left, as per Borges original, to wonder if the character is actually imagining this, still actually on his hospital bed, as an idealised death:
He felt that if he had been able to choose, then, or to dream his death, this would have been the death he would have chosen or dreamt.My favourite of the stories was the 3rd, 'Travel, Travel', which starts with a 37 year-old married man returning, alone, to his family home, after his father's death, to prepare it for sale. Initially he is surprised, even disturbed, how little his adolescent home town has changed: