When she hears about the suicide of a Buenos Aires train driver who has left a note confessing to four mortal ‘accidents’ on the train tracks, journalist Veronica Rosenthal decides to investigate. For the police the case is closed (suicide is suicide), for Veronica it is the beginning of a journey that takes her into an unfamiliar world of grinding poverty, crime-infested neighborhoods, and train drivers on commuter lines haunted by the memory of bodies hit at speed by their locomotives in the middle of the night. Aided by a train driver with whom she has a tumultuous and reckless affair, a junkie in rehab and two street kids willing to risk everything for a can of Coke, she uncovers a group of men involved in betting on working-class youngsters convinced to play Russian roulette by standing in front of fast-coming trains to see who endures the longest.
Sergio Olguín nació en Buenos Aires en 1967 y estudió Letras en la universidad de esa ciudad. Trabaja como periodista desde 1984. Fundó la revista V de Vian, y fue cofundador y el primer director de la revista de cine El Amante. Ha colaborado en los diarios Página/12, La Nación y El País (Montevideo). Es jefe de redacción de la revista Lamujerdemivida y responsable de cultura del diario Crítica de la Argentina. Editó, entre otras, las antologías Los mejores cuentos argentinos (1999), La selección argentina (2000), Cross a la mandíbula (2000)y Escritos con sangre (2003). En 1998 publicó el libro de cuentos Las griegas (Vian Ediciones) y en 2002 su primera novela, Lanús, reeditada en España en 2008 (Andanzas 647). Le siguieron Filo (2003, Tusquets Editores Argentina) y las narraciones juveniles El equipo de los sueños (2004) y Springfield (2007), traducidas al alemán, francés e italiano. Oscura monótona sangre mereció el V Premio Tusquets Editores de Novela, según el jurado, por la magnífica resolución de una trama de obsesión y doble moral, de pasión y conflicto social, en la que se ve envuelto el protagonista, un hombre dispuesto a traspasar todos los límites por una relación inconfesable.
Eva De Dominici as journalist Verónica Rosenthal alongside Germán Palacios, who plays Lucio Valrossa, a key character in the unfolding thriller.
Wow! After reading Sergio Olguín's The Fragility of Bodies, the first in a series of four novels featuring journalist Verónica Rosenthal, I can clearly see why this absorbing novel, published in 2012, became a bestseller in Argentina and was quickly adapted into a hit TV series aired throughout all of Latin America.
The Fragility of Bodies is a breathtaking tour de force of crime noir, written by an author at the height of his literary powers. Intense, impassioned, fiery, and fierce are all fitting descriptions of this nearly 400-page urban saga that will grip readers, beginning with the suicide of a train driver who shoots himself in the temple and plunges from the roof of the multistory building where he's been seeing his psychologist twice a week for the past three months.
Why would Alfredo Carranza, a dedicated train driver with a loving wife and two beautiful little children, commit such an act? Actually, Alfredo left a suicide note which began: Nobody but me is to blame for this. I can't go on any more. I killed them. All four of them. I thought that I could live with this. I thought that I could live with the deaths of the first three. But not with the child's.
Forever the savvy investigative journalist, Verónica Rosenthal reads the suicide note, senses a lurid story, and starts hunting around for answers. What she discovers quickly leads to boys from the Buenos Aires slums playing a ghastly game of chicken where they stand on the tracks in front of onrushing trains - a game of life and death organized by sleazy adults for their own profit and entertainment.
We follow Verónica on her quest through the grime and grit of the city's lower social strata to not only compile facts for her story but also nail those irresponsible adults subjecting young boys to such extreme child abuse. Additionally, Sergio Olguín will shift the focus to other men and women in the unfolding drama, sometimes even cycling back to capture the same scene from a different character's point of view, building a hair-raising, heart-stopping narrative momentum that will keep any reader riveted to the page.
Oh, what a novel, with a host of memorable characters, including:
Verónica, Journalist – Our thirty-year-old protagonist displays unrelenting toughness and zeal in her quest to uncover the truth, a woman with keen journalistic instincts that frequently place her in danger. “She needed a double Jack Daniel's and two packets of cigarettes to help her think. She didn't believe she could have a decent idea before she finished the first pack.” Verónica knows drinking and smoking aren't exactly good for her health, but if liquor and tobacco fuel her drive to do what must be done, she'll gladly indulge.
Verónica, Single and Independent – Let this serve as a red flag for any reader who is prudish: the sexually attractive Verónica, forever allergic to even the idea of marriage, possesses a huge sexual appetite and doesn’t hold back from engaging in all varieties of kinky sex with a number of men. Verónica is also a bit of a romantic, which adds more than a touch of complexity to her relationships.
Lucio – Sarmiento Railway Company train driver Lucio can't get the faces of the people he ran over out of his mind. He could transfer to another job within the company, but that would mean less pay - something unacceptable for a dedicated family man with a wife and two boys. However, Lucio is in for a radical life transformation when he meets and becomes infatuated with none other than Verónica.
El Peque and Dientes – With these two boys, the grinding, oppressive poverty of Buenos Aires' poor is exposed in all its pain and degradation. Like many other young slum-dwellers, they see soccer as their passport to a better life. Little do they realize that their soccer coach is a vicious sleazeball who recruits vulnerable boys for a deadly game with trains. He's a link in a criminal underworld, luring the boys in with the promise of one hundred pesos - an amount of money they've never seen in their lives.
Balthazar Murillo plays the part of Peque
Frederico – Aarón Rosenthal, Verónica's father, is one of the most influential lawyers in Buenos Aires. Aarón dreamed of having a son who would carry on the family tradition of lawyers, but, alas, he had three daughters (Verónica being the youngest), none of whom expressed any interest in pursuing a career in law. Aarón hired Frederico, a sharp and dedicated lawyer who soon, thanks largely to Aarón, earned a junior partnership. For Aarón, Frederico is the son he never had; indeed, it has always been Aarón's dream that Verónica marry Frederico. Verónica, being Verónica, flatly refused; however, there was that time when they engaged in a few rounds of sex with a hint of the incestuous. Verónica now needs Frederico's help with her investigation, and the young lawyer is always happy to assist, knowing that a future with the alluring Verónica isn't entirely out of the question.
Rafael – With this former alcoholic and drug addict, Sergio Olguín has created a truly unique character. "Rafael knew that one of his virtues - which, like all his virtues, was not often recognized by other people - was observation. He realized a lot of things simply by looking around him. He saw things to which others - so sure of themselves - remained blind." Rafael works at a small food and drink joint next to the soccer field where El Peque and Dientes have been playing. He begins to notice things that strike him as odd. His suspicions are confirmed when he’s offered a chance to make some extra money. Little did he know the depth of what he was getting into. Not long after, he contacts Verónica, and things really start to flare up.
Buenos Aires - This Argentine city is given such a tangible and visceral presence, it's as if it is one of the characters. And similar to the novels of Rio de Janeiro author Luiz Alfredo Garcia-Roza, the streets and avenues are always named. While readings, I felt as if I was right there with Verónica and everyone else in Buenos Aires, walking the streets, riding in cars, frequenting restaurants, and climbing the stairs of ramshackle apartment buildings. Hats off, Sergio Olguín. You are one talented author.
The Fragility of Bodies will be shelved with other thriller novels, but it is much more: a searing examination of the plight of the very poor in a Latin American city like Buenos Aires. Without question, Sergio Olguín's novel could be used as a supplemental text in a college course in urban sociology, a major achievement deserving a wide audience.
"The Fragility of Bodies" is Olguin's terrific opening salvo in his Veronica Rosenthal series. The second book in the series ("Foreign Girls") is due for its English publication early in 2021 and the third book in the series is not yet available in English. Veronica is an amazing protagonist, a sophisticated Buenos Aires journalist in her early thirties, here just making the move to hard crime journalism, a rather perilous move to be sure.
Like many cities across the world, there are two sides to Buenos Aires and here they sit in stark juxtaposition. Veronica is the daughter of one of the most prominent attorneys in the city with connections everywhere. She writes for a hip magazine, has drinks and fancy dinners with a bevy of hip girlfriends, and has a libido on virtual overload, exhibited here in her affair with a married train operator, a torrid erotic affair where she acts out passionate fantasies.
Contrast her pampered life with the gritty desperation of children in the barrios, desperate for even a few pesos or even a few centavos, and willing to risk just about anything for any way out of desperate poverty. And somehow these children are being hit by trains at an extraordinary rate, causing train operators to drown in suicidal guilt at all the deaths they can't prevent.
And something is going on causing all these young kids to die on the tracks, something sinister, and connected to important people. You might say it's just the thing for a hard-hitting journalist to sink her teeth into.
Right, where on earth do I begin, to get across to everyone how intensely, sublimely brilliant The Fragility of Bodies is? A book shot through with painful truths and gritty realism, and with the ability to put its reader through a whole gamut of emotions with its pared down prose, perceptive exploration of the human compulsion to make connections, and larger themes of trust, exploitation and social injustice. This is a huge, important book hiding behind the deceptively simple label of an Argentine noir thriller, but has much to say about the nature of human relationships, and the power and exploitation of the few on the lives of the many…
With such a self assured, dogged, yet emotionally turbulent central character as journalist, Veronica Rosenthal, I was instantly entranced by her. She sets about her investigation into the worrying trend of suicides on local railway lines, with verve and energy; a verve and energy that also extends to the more base needs of her character, and the mutual seduction that occurs in the course of her investigation. She is flighty and independent, in relation to her friends and siblings, but she has a real strength of character and essence of self control, that her peers can only aspire to. Not only does Olguin put his readers through the emotional mangle, but Veronica is tested constantly in her pursuit of the truth behind the pattern of suicides occurring on train tracks of late, sucking her into a world of bribery and exploitation that will prove dangerous in the extreme. I can truthfully say that she is one of the most well-realised, compelling and authentic female characters that I have encountered for a long time, and this mix of tenacity and bravery, is beautifully tempered by the more impulsive, reckless and passionate side of her nature, be it in her professional or personal life.
The breadth of crime fiction set in South America has been a recent revelation to me, and Olguin naturally captures the grinding poverty, misplaced optimism, and dangerous existence of the lower classes of Buenos Aires society. Young boys believe that football is their ticket out of the slums and the path to riches, but putting them squarely into the path of those that would exploit them, and such is their desperation to escape the clutches of poverty and to help their families, or just to feel valued that they are easily coerced into the dark activities of the adults in whom they trust. Olguin perfectly captures the conflicts that arise in these young boys, lured into a dangerous form of ‘chicken’ to satisfy the men who place bets on these youngster’s bravery and ultimately survival, with the lure of a hundred pesos.
The world of these boys is unflinchingly depicted by Olguin, capturing the deprivation of the neighbourhoods they live in, the struggles of their families, and the thin line that exists between survival and criminality in the dangerous world of the favelas. Olguin’s depiction of this world is written with sharp clarity appealing to the reader’s senses, and which cannot fail to move the reader’s emotions too, but what is also detectible is the thin veneer of hope that lies behind the most meagre of lives, the feeling that not all is lost, and that a sense of morality can breach the divides Olguin so truthfully depicts. As long as journalists like Veronica, and honest citizens seek to expose the morally bankrupt despite the risks, there can always be hope, despite the inherent danger in society of those in positions of power.
The Fragility of Bodies has rocketed into my best books of the year, and all I can say to Sergio Olguin and his wonderful translator Miranda France, is that I am already salivating for the next in the series to be translated. This book shocked, moved and completely absorbed me from beginning to end, and think this will leave a few of my future reads trailing in its wake. Gritty, beautifully prosaic, and intensely moving, I cannot do justice to the power of this book, which moves the emotions, sparks the social conscience, but pays heed to the need of a thriller to excite and entertain us too, with a truly compelling central character. Highly recommended.
3.5 Olguín tiene mucha capacidad para manejar el pulso y el ritmo de la novela policial. Mantiene enganchado al lector en todo momento. Se lee casi de una sentada por el interés que genera. Sin embargo, hubo varias cosas de la prosa que no me convencieron, básicamente ciertas metáforas o intentos de agregarle algo de poesía a la narración. No me gustaron y me descolocaron un poco. Es un libro bastante "formulesco" del género del policial, pero creo que entretener tanto es un gran valor. No cualquiera puede hacerlo como lo hace esta novela. Puede tener varias fallas, sí, algunos lugares comunes del género, pero en general es una lectura que se disfruta mucho.
Me gustó. Un libro entretenido, ágil y muy al contrario de lo que yo creía antes de empezar a leer, de muy fácil lectura. Si le tengo que criticar algo sería la relación Veronica/Lucio que me pareció bastante demás y poco interesante, creo que no le aporta nada al libro (soló escenas de sexo y algo de morbo) y la hace a Verónica un personaje de película cuando en realidad creo que se la quiere describir como una persona común y corriente, no se si se entiende lo que quiero decir pero esa fue mi sensanción. Por lo demás, todo el resto, la invetigación, los personajes, como todo se va resolviendo me gustó y me convenció.
agradecida con este libro que me ha sacado de un bloqueo lector. me he enganchado y he estado una semana pensando en cómo se iba resolver la historia. le bajo una estrella por esa mirada machirula de Verónica y su vida sexual. queda como que a todo lo consigue por estar buena y cogerse tipos y me parece un bajón.
Argentinean Crime Thriller Review of the Bitter Lemon Press paperback edition (2019) translated from the Spanish language original La fragilidad de los cuerpos (2012)
The Fragility of Bodies has Argentinean journalist Verónica Rosenthal investigating a series of apparent commuter train suicides which may actually be the tragic results of a criminal conspiracy. The suspense and the gradual unveiling of clues and witnesses is well handled and Rosenthal makes for an intriguing protagonist. The author does tend to overdo her private inclination towards somewhat sado-masochistic relationships and is pornographically explicit about her sexual activities which is a banal titillating distraction from the drama of the main plot.
The Fragility of Bodies is the first English translation of the Verónica Rosenthal Series. The English translation of the 2nd book Las extranjeras (2014) is expected to be published by Bitter Lemon Press on March 23, 2021 as The Foreign Girls.
Trivia and Links The Spanish language original La Fragilidad de los Cuerpos was filmed as a 2017 Argentinean TV-series and the trailer for the series can be seen here.
I read The Fragility of Bodies as part of the 2020 Borderless Book Club reading list for which it was the September 17, 2020 selection. As a Canadian reader, I am reading these much too late to actually join the book club meetings, but can usually catch up on them via the recorded podcasts. There does not appear to be a podcast recording of that September 17, 2020 book club meeting however. There was a list of resources shared by book club organizer Maddie Rogers of Peirene Press which is copied below: An interview with author Sergio Olguín for the Harrogate Festival An article written by translator Miranda France for Prospect Magazine on literary translation This article from Mystery Scene interviewing various translators (including Miranda) on the difficulties of translating crime This Spotify playlist created by Sergio while he was writing The Fragility of Bodies
La fragilidad de los cuerpos es una novela de policial negro que parece tenerlo todo: denuncia, crítica social, muerte de inocentes, sexo, persecuciones, obsesiones y alcohol. Sin embargo, no todas esas partes encajan demasiado bien y, en general, se tiene la sensación que lo único interesante que ocurre son las escenas de sexo entre la protagonista y un amor imposible. La trama policial es excesivamente modélica y hasta caricaturesca. Los pobres son los buenos, los que están desprotegidos, los que han caído alguna vez en algún infierno y los malos son los ricos. Olguín mete con fórceps esta idea: el realmente malo, el líder de la banda es un político corrupto (menemista, para más obviedades) que fue intendente de un pueblo perdido de Misiones del cual se tuvo que ir por acumulación de denuncias. Misiones es una de las provincias más pobres de la Argentina, con lo cual, uno se imagina que el intendente, por más poderoso que sea, no deja de ser un caudillo de baja estofa y altos índices de brutalidad. Sin embargo, no. Tiene que ser rico porque los ricos son quienes deben ser los malos. Entonces, ese tipo vive rodeado de seguridad privada, de secretarias amables y serviles, sabe comportarse frente a una dama, sabe qué ordenar en un restaurant de elite. Esta sensación de caricatura se incrementa tanto con la descripción de la vida de Verónica como una judía de clase media alta intelectual como con los diálogos inverosímilmente bien articulados que pueblan la novela. Además, Verónica, una periodista “apasionada”, está todo el tiempo obsesionada con el caso pero, en realidad, en la novela parece mucho más concentrada y dedicada a tener sexo que en investigar. Tan así es que la mayor cantidad de las pistas no las consigue ella sino que se las consigue un exnovio que es el prototipo del Deus exMachina y un cura que, en dos páginas, conoce a Verónica, confiesa estar enamorado de ella, rompe el secreto de confesión, decide dejar de ser cura y coge con Verónica. Highlights que uno debe mencionar para mostrar que efectivamente leyó el libro Realmente se lee rápido. La protagonista es hincha de Atlanta. (¿?) Enseñanzas Es inverosímil la cantidad de veces que el autor describe quién llegó antes a una reunión y quién llegó después. Hay algo interesante en la construcción temporal de la novela. Los capítulos no están contados desde una única perspectiva sino de las de cada uno de los personajes que aparecen. Eso no es particularmente interesante porque todo parece demasiado fácil para el lector (prácticamente, no hay secretos que queden descubrir sino un mínimo riesgo para la protagonista). Lo que sí es interesante es cómo cada subcapítulo se va montando sobre el final del anterior, como en una especie de disco de Manu Chao, en el que una canción termina cuando la otra está empezando. A pesar de eso, es problemático porque muchas veces, hay una sensación de repetición que perturba.
Writers of crime fiction usually put some effort in with their detector / detective, but so often this is overdone, and they are stereotypes. In this respect, Olguin’s protagonist is refreshing; Veronica Rosenthal being a Jewish ‘man-iser’, openly flawed and not particularly likeable, not thinking twice about indulging in weird sexual practices, and stopping at nothing to get the result she needs. Couple this with the backdrop of the seedier areas on Buenos Aires, and the novel’s got legs. Further, it’s got a compelling and original plot, which starts with something of a red herring, the suicide of a train driver. Rather, this is a bruising insight into a modern day Argentina that is still haunted by its past. The dark tones of noir are evident from the first scene, and the atmosphere becomes darker and grittier as the story pitches the wealthy and politically corrupt against the weakest and poorest in society. It’s best enjoyed knowing little more about the plot, steer clear of detailed reviews. Good noir writing like this attracts as it leads us to believe that right can overcome wrong, but we know not to necessarily expect a happy ending and rarely any sort of resolution. It’s the first in a series of three featuring Rosenthal; Olguin will do well to better this.
La primera novela de una nueva saga con una protagonista femenina que resulta ser de lo más interesante de la novela. Hay una buena construcción del personaje que se perfila como una incorporación interesante a los investigadores privados de la narrativa policial. La trama que investiga incluye corrupción política, la explotación de chicos de origen humilde (temáticas que ya trató Olguín en novelas anteriores como "Oscura monótona sangre" y en menor medida en sus libros juveniles, en particular "El equipo de los sueños") y una trama perversa de juegos mortales. Quizás en este sentido es que se encuentra una progresión un poco lineal que, hacia el final de la novela, encuentra un punto de desvío con un hecho inesperado. En resumen: una novela interesante que presenta una protagonista que promete nuevas aventuras a tener en cuenta.
I have been assured that this is good representation of Argentinian culture, which was comforting because it read real ( to me, who's never been there) , it's also a really excellent thriller. Veronica is wonderful, yet another fictional character that I felt I would like to meet, she's flawed and a bit manipulative, but she's also honest and has a capacity for love and connection with people that makes her a good journalist, and someone I wanted to know more about. The city of Buenos Aires, plays a big part in this book as well, I love books that have a sense of place, and the difference between middle class Veronica with her books and wine, and the poverty the boys she ends up investigating live in made this as much a social commentary as a thriller. I enjoyed this a lot, and look forward to reading more when either they become translated into English, or my Spanish improves !
Ok so I have mixed feelings here. I like the story. Founded quite interesting and is good to read a thriller that is setup in South America and not in Europe, as the most popular ones. I enjoyed but... The sex seems seems quite unrealistic, in a moment it remind me of a bad version of sex on the city it seems that the author did not even bother to ask women how they really feel during sex. They are parts that are narrated under the view of different characters but did not provide more to the story, so I got the feeling that the author was repeating himself just to put more pages. But the narration is very good the thriller is well narrated and provides descriptions from the dark parts of Argentina, these stories that we all suspect exist but never listen about it. So I like it the book but I think that it can do better without certain parts....
Felt like an okay crime novel, there wasn't anything too terrible, but small annoyances and nothing that particularly grabbed or impressed me. The story progressed pretty much as was telegraphed very early on, so it started to drag quite a bit for me towards the end. Narrating from multiple points of view was useful in giving a view of how the crime affected victims, but again hurts the pacing of the book, often repeating material. I appreciate the attempt to show how victims get involved or affected by crime, but the portrayal felt fairly shallow here. Got tired of every man wanting to sleep with the main character, always just makes me think the writer has decided to write their personal fantasy as the protagonist.
Simplemente me encanto. Aunque se enfoca en los distintos puntos de vista de cada personaje, no hace que se enrede o se complique la lectura. Se termina rapido por su redacción y por las ganas de leer más. Lo recomiendo y creo que (aunque es un poco temprano para afirmarlo), será uno de mis libros favoritos de este año.
Olguín hizo una profecía con respecto al escándalo en el fútbol que sucede hoy en día en Argentina, denunciado por Natasha Jaitt en los medios. Es muy similar la trama, el reclutamiento de jóvenes sin recursos, que son explotados por los equipos de fútbol, a costa de su salud sexual e integridad.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
In the field of crime fiction, a field that sometimes feels overcrowded, its wonderful to find a book with a great premise. The Fragility of Bodies is one such book. The premise of this novel is very simple and surrounds the death of children on train tracks, e.g. children knocked over by trains. This, of course, happens all over the world. Children (and adults) risk crossing the tracks when the barriers are down at level crossings. Children play at the side of the tracks. Children play on the tracks. Some might try and block the tracks for fun by piling things onto the tracks (which of course can cause a train to derail) or they might make dares, play chicken with each other and the train, etc. This is the premise for this novel, in which Veronica Rosenthal, a young journalist on a news magazine, takes an interest in the number of deaths of children on the Buenos Aires rail tracks.
Many a plot of a novel has come from the question What If? And reading this novel, you can almost see the author asking that question in his mind. What if some of those deaths, deaths that happen around the world, were not accidents? To be sure such deaths happen in poor countries more than rich ones, where safety and security standards are not as good. Also, such deaths in those poor countries are likely to be subject to less rigourous investigation. So it is in this novel. The deaths that are at the core of the narrative are of street children, kids who grew up in the slums of Buenos Aires and come from deprived homes. I’ll avoid spoilers, but needless to say, Veronica discovers that the spate of deaths she’s happened upon are no accidents. She starts to investigate and those that are causing the deaths take umbrage to her sniffing around.
There are two other aspects of this novel that I liked very much. The first is that as a former journalist myself, the way Veronica comes across the story of the deaths on the train tracks is very authentic. Journalists discover stories in many ways and more often than not its almost accidental. You see or hear something which grabs your interest, you look into the story a little more, and then you find something bigger. The most famous example, of course, is Watergate. Initially, it was reported as just a break-in. But then journalists (most notably Woodward and Bernstein) discovered more. There were many (though obviously much less dramatic) examples of this in my own career in current affairs television. We would look into an issue only to find something much bigger beneath the surface. In The Fragility of Bodies it's the suicide of a train driver. He’s left a note expressing remorse for the children he’s killed. Veronica looks into this and discovers he’s referring to children that he ran over when driving his train. Soon she learns that a lot of train drivers on the same line have had similar experiences and her investigation spirals from there. This, as I say, is very realistic to how journalism works. Often a journalist finds one thing, that leads to another, and another, and before they know it the story they are working on is completely different from what they had imagined.
The second aspect of this novel that I very much like is its lack of a serial killer. That probably reads like a really weird thing to write, but bear with me. I’m going to have to be very careful here not to divulge spoilers, and I won’t say anything else about the plot, except to say that the deaths are not caused by a serial killer. To me, that’s excellent, because a real bugbear of mine is the number of serial killers in crime fiction. Now don’t get me wrong, I enjoy some serial killer books and films. I’m not saying I’ll never read or watch one again, nor am I saying that I’ll never enjoy one again. When such stories are done well, they can be tremendous. But there is something a little lazy about the number of authors who churn out serial killer stories. Apart from the fact that serial killing is actually incredibly rare, it’s also just not very imaginative. So it's refreshing when one comes across a novel that doesn’t include a deranged psycho killer to push the narrative on.
My one criticism of this novel is that some of the plot is contrived. Veronica Rosenthal is the daughter of a very powerful and politically connected lawyer. She uses this to find things out and I found this a little grating. It’s almost a get-out-of-jail-free card, the author able to have Veronica find anything, get out of any predicament, by playing this ace. Basically, the author uses this to dodge any difficulties in his plot. This was most obvious in the last quarter of the novel where the action sped up and she started to call in favours with increasing frequency. It felt like the author had pushed himself and his protagonist into a corner and had no way of extricating themselves other than the use of this trick. Personally, I would have kept the pace of the first three quarters and had this a book about the journalists' method. I would have foregone the action at the end and made it more akin to a legal thriller, where the tension is more in the revelations than kinetic violence.
That said, this is a very good book and one I enjoyed immensely. I would definitely read more by this author and hope that more of his work is translated into English.
Two stars genuinely for the premise of the book, which is still very good and has a lot of potential. Everything else makes it incredibly hard to believe the book was written and published as recently as post 2010.
Veronica is a journalist for a popular magazine, she’s talented and has an eye for a story. When she hears of a child’s death on the railway and the train driver is traumatised, she feels this could be interesting from a human emotion side, but she soon finds there is so much more to the story….
Poor young boys, are drawn to a local football team, the coach Rivero offers them a chance to make some money, a game he says. This evil man sets two boys a game of chicken, against a train, the last one to jump off the tracks is the winner!! Oh and men gamble on this……
The train drivers on the routes, are on tenterhooks their whole shift, just waiting to see someone on the tracks and to hear the crunch of bone……
Veronica finds out about this and is determined to make it end, but puts herself and anyone close to her in real danger…….can she stop this barbarity??
I really love the way this is written, Veronica is a strong, single woman who pees, has periods and enjoys sex her way….not often you read of the real parts of life in this way..
Set in Buenos Aires, It also shows the dark side of life, the exploitation of those in poverty, the young and desperate….a fascinating and utterly engaging read. I’ve been very lucky to read some excellent novels recently but this is one of the best I’ve read this year….
Thank you to Anne Cater and Random Things Tours for the opportunity to participate in this blog tour and for the promotional materials and a free copy of the book and this is my honest, unbiased review.
3.5⭐️ Estoy sorprendida la verdad. No se muy bien que decir del libro. A pesar de que me llevo casi tres semanas leer este libro, lo disfruté. Podía agarralo en cualquier momento y el libro me enganchaba. La manera de escribir de este señor me gustó, era como que la historia avanzaba rápido pero lento. Es difícil de explicar😅 Lo único que no me gustó tanto es que ya más o menos sabes que es lo que paso con los trenes a mitad del libro. Y que a Lucio me lo describan como un bombón y yo me lo imagino horrible🤷🏼♀️ Muy buena lectura!! Súper recomiendo❤️
The book reads like a speeding train. Starting with a suicide of a train driver, and the subsequent investigation from a very dogged and smart journalist Victoria. We are introduced to the poverty of Buenos Aires that drives children to play chicken on the railway tracks and the Argentinian mafia that abuses these boys. I was hooked on the writing and the characters from the start. It's an unusual book. But is well worth the read.
No la pude soltar. Me metí de lleno en la historia, sentí nervios y expectativa todo el último cuarto de la novela.
Es evidente que el autor es varón en las descripciones de la protagonista y de su forma de moverse y pensar. Si bien me costó amigarme con esa mirada, me parece interesante acercarme a cómo piensan los hombres que somos
تحت مظلّة مؤسسة إعلامية مستقلة تتصدى ابنة محامٍ ذا نفوذ في الأجهزة الرسمية لإجراء تحقيق صحفي حول "الجانب المظلم للعمل في السكة الحديد"؛ موضوع أفرزته علامات استفهام ضخمة تحوم حول واقعة انتحار سائق قطار، بعد فترة من تداعي صحته النفسية، مخلفا رسالة مبهمة مختومة بطابع اعتذار! اعتراف بارتكاب جريمة أم لعلها متاهة أوهام؟!
فخ ينصب لفئة من صبية العشوائيات، يستدرجون للوقوف على حافة خطر قد يكلفهم حياتهم مقابل (مائة بيزو) مكافأة الفوز! إجادة تقدير عنصري: الزمن والمسافة، عاملاً للتأهل.
يساهم في دفع عجلة التحقيق: أب لطفلين تلاحقه كوابيس حوادث ليلية؛ كاهن المدينة المخفية؛ متعاف من الإدمان تخلّت عنه زوجته، فيشق عليه اللقاء بابنته الوحيدة؛ شاب موضع ثقة والدها، يغرق في حبها.
بناء لغوي ودرامي متقن. وصف يجرف القارئ إلى عمق المشهد. مؤشر تشويق يتخذ منحى تصاعدي تخترقه منعطفات تنحبس فيها الأنفاس طويلاً. شخصيات انفعالاتها محسوسة.
مشاهد عنف، ووقائع دموية، تتخللهما بقع كبيرة من وقائع خادشة للحياء العام مع التوغل عميقا في تفاصيل ذات صلة.
يخبّأ بعيداً عن متناول الأطفال والمراهقين، ليس للسبب الوارد أعلاه فحسب، إنّما أيضاً لالتفاف أحد خيوط العقدة حول سلوك تبعاته كارثية، قد يندفع بعضهم لمحاكاته على أرض الواقع.
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اقتباسات:-
"العدل ليس بطيئا فقط، بل غائبا وسطحيا في أغلب الوقت". (178).
"أقنع نفسه بأن أمانه في تخليه عن أحلامه". (216).
"الحوار كأغنية، وصمتك موسيقاها. ينبغي عليك معرفة الأوقات التي يكون صمتك فيها أفضل من حديثك، كي تتاح للآخر فرصة قول تفاصيل ربما تفشلين في الحصول عليها بأسئلتك". (238).
"قرر التفكير فيها بكامل وعيه، حتى يخرجها من ذلك البئر المظلم في أعماق لا وعيه". (326).
"الكشف عن الحقائق مهمة الصحفي. يكشف عنها للقراء، ليحكموا فيها بأنفسهم". (344).
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المؤلف: سيرخيو أولجين المترجم: زهراء مجدي الناشر: العربي عدد الصفحات: 423 سنة النشر: 2024 (1)
“I’ve had better days. And, to be honest, I haven’t had many worse. But I have a hunch that the sun is going to keep rising around six every morning.” So notes Veronica Rosenthal near the end of this engrossing and ultimately uplifting story. The book is set in Buenos Aires and Veronica is a journalist at a magazine who gets on to a story about kids dying on railroad tracks. It gets way more involved the more she digs. The feeling of Buenos Aires permeates the novel, I felt transported. The final chapter of the book is simply sublime, I had enjoyed it up to then but the final pages took the book to another level for me. Unlike so many thrillers, Mr. Olguín takes the time to realistically wrap things up, we see Veronica in the days after the major conclusion of the action and there were moments that made me start to tear up, including a friend being exactly what is needed and a relationship with her editor that is pitch prefect, two women who are skilled at their jobs and know the other is also skilled and has their back. Wonderfully presented and a great way to finish. The book is almost too realistic in many ways, it is like the difference between a David Simon police show (The Wire) and Law & Order, and that did make me feel a little sad that everything didn’t work out perfectly, but instead we are given real people acting and reacting in real ways, and the power of realistically presented characters and situations far outweighs the cheap sentimentality of lesser stories. A fine piece of writing.
“La fragilidad de los cuerpos”. Hacía años que lo tenía pendiente, y por fin le llegó el momento; es el primero de la saga Verónica Rosenthal. Superó mis expectativas y voy a seguir leyendo a Sergio Olguín. Me gusta cuando los autores escriben sobre lugares y cosas que conozco, en este caso: Buenos Aires y el tren Sarmiento. Verónica Rosenthal es periodista y trabaja para la revista Nuestro Tiempo; su padre es abogado y dueño de un estudio jurídico muy importante del país. L a protagonista vive sola y es adicta a su profesión, le llega información para escribir una nota sobre el suicidio de un maquinista del tren Sarmiento; por eso comienza a investigar y salen a la luz hechos dolorosos de corrupción, drogas y pobreza. Es una novela donde hay amor y venganza, pero prevalece la angustia. Me gustó y lo disfruté; voy por más Verónica Rosenthal.
No hay línea de este libro que no evidencie que fue escrito por un varón. La protagonista es el personaje más plano, superficial y aburrido que existe. El crimen es interesante pero queda en segundo plano con la cantidad excesiva de escenas de tipos calentándose con la protagonista o de ella cogiendo directamente. La estructura también me pareció rara, demasiados cambios de puntos de vista que tampoco nos decían mucho del personaje que estaba narrando cada capítulo. En fin, una decepción.
Bo este libro qué carajos. Tengo un nudo en el pecho. Fabuloso. Nunca leí un libro escrito por un hombre que capture y refleje esa voz narrativa femenina con tanta verdad. Tiene amor, tiene sexo, tiene violencia, tiene coraje. La historia te tira para adentro del libro con voracidad. Me enamoré de vos Verónica.
Gracias Werner Pertot por la recomendación en Futurock que me permitió llegar a la Fragilidad de los cuerpos :)