Bogowie tanga

by Carolina De Robertis, Anna Dobrzańska (Translator)

Żywa, pełna dźwięków, kolorów i zapachów historia o pasji silniejszej niż wszystko i o odnajdowaniu w sobie wolności, napisana przez laureatkę Stonewall Book Award oraz Reading Women Award.

Zmysłowa, głęboko poruszająca opowieść o urzeczonej tangiem młodej kobiecie, która wchodząc do zakazanego dla niej świata, łamie tabu.

Luty 1913 roku. Siedemnastoletnia Włoszka Leda, z małą walizką i zamkniętymi w futerale starymi skrzypcami ojca, opuszcza rodzinną wioskę i wyrusza do Argentyny. Nie ma pojęcia, że jej poślubiony per procura mąż, dla którego przemierzyła Atlantyk, nie żyje, a ją czeka życie w starej kamienicy, bez rodziny i przyjaciół, na skraju nędzy. Leda nie wie również, że skrzypce, które trzyma pod pachą, pozwolą jej przetrwać w zatłoczonych przez imigrantów slumsach.

Prawie natychmiast po przybyciu do Buenos Aires zostaje uwiedziona przez muzykę, którą nieustannie pulsuje miasto: zakochuje się w tangu, zrodzonym z głosów biednych imigrantów, skandalicznym tańcu z burdeli i owianych złą sławą kabaretów, którym pulsuje całe miasto. Leda decyduje, że zrealizuje swoje odwieczne marzenie i zostanie mistrzynią gry na skrzypcach, choć wie, że nigdy nie będzie mogła występować jako kobieta. Obcina więc włosy, bandażuje piersi i staje się Dantem, młodym mężczyzną, który dołącza do grupy grających tango muzyków, próbujących podbić salony socjety.

Stopniowo zaciera się granica między Ledą a Dantem, a pragnienia, które Leda do tej pory tłumiła, rozkwitają w niej na nowo, zagrażając nie tylko jej karierze muzycznej, ale i życiu.

Genres: Historical Fiction, Fiction, LGBT, Queer, Historical, Music, Romance

416 pages, Hardcover

First published July 7, 2015

About the author

Carolina De Robertis is the author of Perla and The Invisible Mountain, which was an international bestseller translated into fifteen languages, the recipient of Italy’s Rhegium Julii Prize, and a Best Book of 2009 according to the San Francisco Chronicle, O, The Oprah Magazine, and BookList. She is the translator of Alejandro Zambra’s Bonsai, which was just made into a feature film, and Roberto Ampuero’s internationally bestselling The Neruda Case. De Robertis has been awarded a 2012 fellowship from the National Endowment for the Arts.

De Robertis grew up in a Uruguayan family that immigrated to England, Switzerland, and California. Prior to completing her first book, she worked in women’s rights organizations for ten years, on issues ranging from rape to immigration. She lives in Oakland, California, where she is currently elbow-deep in writing her third novel, which explores migration, sexual frontiers, and the tango’s Old Guard in early twentieth century South America.

Reviews

[Nikola · Rating 4 out of 5]

4,25/5
Największe zaskoczenie tego roku!

[Aditi · Rating 4 out of 5]

"The Argentine tango is very special to me because it's full of sensuality. The chemistry between the man and woman is absolutely stunning. "

----Gilles Marini


Carolina De Robertis, an Uruguayan author, pens a heart-touching and extremely poignant historical fiction in her new book, The Gods of Tango that unfolds the story of a young Italian woman who after finding out that her newly wed husband is dead, she decides to play tango music by dressing up as a man among the world of men in Argentina, but that leads her to a lot of unseen troubles where her sexuality and her sexual desires confuse her.


Synopsis:

Arriving in Buenos Aires in 1913, with only a suitcase and her father’s cherished violin to her name, seventeen-year-old Leda is shocked to find that the husband she has travelled across an ocean to reach is dead. Unable to return home, alone, and on the brink of destitution, she finds herself seduced by the tango, the dance that underscores every aspect of life in her new city. Knowing that she can never play in public as a woman, Leda disguises herself as a young man to join a troupe of musicians. In the illicit, scandalous world of brothels and cabarets, the line between Leda and her disguise begins to blur, and forbidden longings that she has long kept suppressed are realized for the first time. Powerfully sensual, The Gods of Tango is an erotically charged story of music, passion, and the quest for an authentic life against the odds.


17-year old Leda has married her cousin, Dante by stand-in, who lives and works in Buenos Aires. After the wedding, Leda travels from her rural hometown in Italy to reach her husband in Argentina, only to find out that he has been shot dead in a workers' protest rally and that she has become a widow. There is no option to return back to her dreadful life back in Italy thus Leda decides to disguise herself as a man with the help of Dante's clothes o play Tango music with her father's violin that he sent with her as a gift for Dante. Thus Leda, a.k.a., Dante embarks on a path that is not traveled by women in Argentina at a time when women wither served the indoor household works or served as a prostitute outdoors. Leda also joins a group of musicians who earn their name and reputation by playing tango music in various cabarets and hotels. But Leda/Dante often confused her inner desires and her self-identity when she was asked to accompany other men to the brothels. Can she survive herself as a he and with a he's desires?

Firstly, I must comment on the book's scintillating cover image which aptly captures the flavor and the portrait of Tango as in dance form strikingly which instantly allured my mind and arrested me to open the book and read it. The story from the very first page, captivated my mind and my soul and kept me engaged till the very end, although, at times, I felt bit bored with the same kind of events occurring more than once or with too much details about tango and its importance rather than depicting the hardships of a woman during the early 20th century in Argentina, in depth.

The author's writing is extremely aesthetic that will immediately grasp the literary fiction aficionados minds, that is laced with proper emotions that too holds the power to move the readers deeply. The narrative is not only inspired from and depicts the local dialect of Argentina but also vividly syncs with the musical notes of tango that will instantly fill the readers' minds with this exotic and foot tapping music. In short, the dialogues are free flowing and extremely riveting enough to keep the readers glued. Now the pacing is very much slow, and it seems the story progresses at a snail's pace with lots of unimportant descriptions and detailings without which the story could also have been easily comprehended by the readers.

The characters from this book are very much well developed and are painted with enough realism, especially the characters are very much layered with their flaws, cultural differences, gender differences and with empathy. The central character, Leda, is a very much honest character whose authentic and determined demeanor takes her to new heights and new places and the readers will experience those through her minds' eyes and her deep thoughts. Leda cannot be an epitome but she can stand out as a diamond in the rough as she camouflages herself as a man in a world where women are treated with zero respect, and her journey through this risky world is not only intimidating but also encouraging enough to make the readers realize her struggles thereby rooting for her till the very end. The supporting characters are also very well etched out and are portrayed them as interesting and true to their soul.

The sex or rather say the physical intimacy plays an integral role in this story just like the tango. Leda in her man self as Dante goes through tons of love affairs with women and the sex scenes between Leda and those women are carefully and smartly depicted with enough passion and heat to give wet dreams to the readers, and not even for once the author made Leda vulnerable in the eyes of those women and that what really amazed me and left me astounded with the intensity and the confidence Leda played along with those women.

The backdrop of this story is vividly portrayed through the canvas where the author brings alive the crowded streets of Buenos Aires alive with the lively chatter in the dark alleys or the stench of sex in the brothels or with the humdrum of daily chores in those shared houses where the immigrants lived or with the sensual or delightful music of tango flowed from those glittering and high class cabarets or with the history of then time or with the strikingly landscapes of a city. in short, the readers are in for a treat as they will be immediately transported to this exotic city through the eloquent and rhyming words of the author.

In a nutshell, this is an intriguing story with a soul-touching story line about a woman surviving with music and love in a man's world.

Verdict: On a long, cold afternoon, this enticing book can easily comfort and charm a reader's mind and soul along with a cup of hot coffee or tea.

Verdict: Thanks to the author, Carolina De Robertis and her publishers, for giving me the opportunity to read and review this book.

[Tony · Rating 3 out of 5]

I liked this in that Goodreads three-star kind of way. I enjoyed the story even as I found the plot moving from convenient to implausible. The writing, while never annoying, was also never subtle, being invariably more tell than show. Here's an example:

She became bolder. She played fiercely, night after night. She had nothing to lose and so she held nothing back, spent all of herself while she had a self to spend.

The Story is about the Italian Leda dressing and acting like a man (Dante) in Argentina so that she can exist as a violinist in a Tango orquestra. In the course of this gender-bending journey, Leda/Dante learns how to please a woman from a prostitute and then proceeds to have at least three love affairs . . . without the women learning she's a woman. One woman is even convinced that Leda is the father of her child. Plausibility aside, the women all swoon from Leda's lovemaking, each wanting more like that. But the author never gives details of like that, which I found disappointing, as I was ready to take copious notes.

There are two accidental killings to open and close this plotline. An intended shooting victim ducks; and a nice man tries to break up a knife fight. I'm not sure the author intended the symmetry.

Still, I was intrigued by a couple of characters, and the story, though predictable in a made-for-TV way, had a nice flow to it.

If I saw another book by this author in a used book store, I would buy it. Not sure I'd dial up Amazon though.

[Emma Deplores Goodreads Censorship · Rating 2 out of 5]

After De Robertis’s other books, The Invisible Mountain and Perla, this was disappointing. The premise is interesting enough: a young Italian woman, Leda, arrives in Buenos Aires in 1913, when immigration is booming and the tango is on its way up from the brothels to become an international sensation. With a passion for the violin and few options for supporting herself, Leda disguises herself as a man to play tango; she discovers her attraction to women but is hampered by the need for secrecy.

This is a very well-written book, and that is both its greatest strength and perhaps the source of its greatest weakness. De Robertis has always been a “lyrical” writer (I put that word in quotes because it’s so overused, but it is accurate here), and in her earlier books the writing seemed at times to get away from her and shade into purple, but as a prose stylist she has matured. This book was clearly written by someone in love with language, and I enjoyed the writing without feeling it went over-the-top. Where it becomes rhapsodical, it’s describing strong emotions to which that register is appropriate.

But all that lyrical language results in a story that’s much more told than shown, making it difficult to invest in the plot or care much for any of the characters. Leda/Dante is meant to be living a dangerous life, but it’s hard to feel any sense of danger when it’s all wrapped up in flowery narrative summary, not to mention prefaced by a prologue letting us know that she comes through just fine. And conveniently, she’s a prodigy on the violin despite never having played before arriving in Buenos Aires. Thus, as a reader I was not feeling the character’s struggles.

And as in many books about coming of age or self-discovery, Leda/Dante’s personality is a cypher. We know what she wants, but not what she’s like; there’s no part of her that seems to be more than an adaptation to the circumstances of the moment. Sure, she’s confused about her sexuality and gender identity, but that doesn’t mean every aspect of her personality should be fluid. The other characters are one-note and their relationships with the protagonist underdeveloped, making it hard to care about anyone in the book. Years after reading De Robertis’s other books, Eva and Salome (of The Invisible Mountain) and, to a lesser extent, Perla, still stand out in my mind, but I am already forgetting Dante.

A couple of other notes. There is a predictable subplot involving Leda’s cousin, which fits awkwardly into the story and seems to have little purpose beyond pointing out that being female puts one at risk for abuse (a point sufficiently made through other characters). As for the historical background, the book certainly gives a sense of life in Buenos Aires in the early 20th century, but as someone familiar with Argentine history, it felt basic to me, as if the author’s research only skimmed the surface.

So, while I was initially intrigued by this book, it ultimately became tedious; as good as the writing is, a novel needs to engage the reader in the characters’ struggles more than this one did. May be good for readers looking to be seduced by lyrical writing about music and sex, but less so for those seeking a plot. For a faster-paced and less sex-driven book about an American historical figure with a similar story, check out The Rebellion of Miss Lucy Ann Lobdell.

[Olga Kowalska (WielkiBuk) · Rating 4 out of 5]

Roztańczone Buenos Aires początku XX wieku. Tango i jego tajemnice. Opowieść o miłości do muzyki, o namiętnościach, które ukrywają się w jej zakazanych dźwiękach.

Autorka wrzuca czytelników w ciemne uliczki Buenos Aires początku wieku i tam też wrzuca swoją bohaterkę, która dla muzyki i dla wolności gotowa jest przełamać wszystkie bariery. Buenos Aires to miasto rozbuchane, pełna brutalnej siły i chaotycznej przemocy. Z każdej strony dobiega inny język, każda uliczka to oaza innego narodu, który w Argentynie szuka tego nowego, obiecanego życia. To miasto szaleńców i marzycieli, trudno jednych odróżnić od drugich. W takim mieście młodziutka, niewinna dziewczyna nie powinna niczego szukać, raczej uciekać, gdzie pieprz rośnie. Na taką niewinność zasadzają się wszyscy, obserwują łapczywie, pragną ją zdobyć. W zamian, bohaterka znajduje rozwiązanie zaskakujące – fortel, na który zdobyć można się wyłącznie w bezpiecznym świecie fikcji.

Proza de Robertis jest żywa, jest niemal iskrząca, napisana z pasją i liryzmem. Niemal rytmiczna, jak tango rozpasana w swojej namiętności. Autorka snuje opowieść o pragnieniu życia, o umiłowaniu wolności, o muzyce, która wolność umożliwia. O poszukiwaniu swojej tożsamości, o sile zaklętej w zakazanych dźwiękach. Czyta się z zapartym tchem, z podziwem dla kunsztu gawędziarskiego pisarki. Ten, swoją delikatnością i lekkością przypomina znajome tony twórczości Isabel Allende. Daj się ponieść „Bogom tanga”, posłuchaj dźwięków, które nigdy nie będą już takie same jak wtedy, jak przed ponad stu laty, gdy Leda zeszła ze statku i poczuła powiew Buenos Aires.

[Hsinju Chen · Rating 5 out of 5]

----background music: anything tango or candombe----

Content warnings: incest, rape (including child sexual abuse), sexism, suicidal thoughts, infidelity, murder, loss of close family member, loss of spouse, outing, urolagnia (nonconsensual), racism, graphic sex, gunshot, shaming sex workers, light BDSM, f slur, mention of pregnancy loss (stillborn), past abortion, mention of past physical abuse

Were De Robertis’ words the ocean, I would forever bathe in it.

I went into this book thinking it was about a young woman, Leda (17), who disguised herself as a man, Dante, to play the tango in Buenos Aires about a century ago. But to Leda/Dante, are wearing men’s clothes (of the dead husband), going to the barbershop for a haircut, chest-binding, and packing merely a tactic to enter the world of tango musicians, an occupation only suitable for men in 1913? Or is it also a venture into the realm of Dante’s previously unknown genderqueerness?

In the beginning, I tried not to read into the underlying gender dysphoria in Dante’s narrative, but it became clear that I was not imagining it. The descriptions were subtle and yet the confusion, excitement, and hopefulness were so raw and relatable I sometimes struggled to stay in the story because they hit a little too close to home.

By the time I reached the end of The Gods of Tango, I was crying both from the relief and happiness of Dante being truly seen and loved and for Dante’s struggles along the years. De Robertis has a way of creating characters so real that I wished Dante and the lover were real-life people I could worship.

There are grief and pain and ugliness of humanity in The Gods of Tango, but its beauty is so dazzling, the love Dante has for music and women so vivid, that upon finishing the story, all that lingered was unbounded joy.

Buddy read with Gabriella!

Initial Thoughts: SO HAPPY and SO SAD at the same time I don’t even know what I’m crying about anymore.

[Jill · Rating 3 out of 5]

The story of a woman – intelligent, talented and desperate – passing as a man is not new to literature. It’s a theme that’s been used over and over again: Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice, The Outlaws of Sherwood, and Laird Hunt’s recent Neverhome, to name just a few.

It’s a testimony to my high regard for Carolina De Robertis that I still very much wanted to read Gods of Tango, where a young woman named Leda takes on a male identity to be able to perform the tango in 1913 Buenos Aires. The mythological Leda was admired by Zeus, who seduced her in the guise of a swan. Here, too, guides and seduction play prominently.

Ms. De Robertis handles the theme extraordinarily well. Leda, who hails from rural Italy, married her cousin Dante by proxy and embarks on a journey to Buenos Aires to begin a new life with him. But upon arrival, she learns that her husband has just been killed at a protest rally. Going back home is not an option for her; she views it as a dead end. So, when an opportunity to pursue her great love for the tango presents itself, Leda usurps Dante’s name, dresses in his clothes, and lives a false – yet rewarding – life as a key member in a band that is committed to refining tango.

The author anticipates her reader’s disbelief and answers the key questions of grooming, toileting, joining in group excursions to brothels and more, all in women’s guise. It’s the fluidity of gender identity that most interests Ms. De Robertis. When does the gap begin to close between “inside and outside, self and disguise, truth and pretense?” How does one discover her authentic self and joyfully embrace “the bright jagged thing you really are”? Leda/Dante journeys to discover the answers, and the reader – along for the journey – discovers much about the tango, born in the brothels and cabarets and (like Dante herself), traveling to legitimacy.

There are a couple of missteps. A prominent backstory concerning Leda’s sister/cousin Cora never quite fulfills all its mystique. The analogies of the tango (“music as lover”) from time to time seem overdone. Yet all in all, this is a compelling novel from an author who has proven herself to be an outstanding storyteller. It’s a fine book.

[victoria · Rating 5 out of 5]

I'm crying tears of joy.

I've always wanted a book set in my country, Argentina, that celebrated our culture, that actually felt like I was here, with a good plot and interesting characters.
And The Gods of Tango delivered.

Not only it's as story about a transman and his exploration of his identity and gender and sexuality, but it's also about Buenos Aires in 1913 and immigration.
Those stories that I had to study for years at school and those stories that our grand-grandparents would tell to our parents. Because the majority of Argentinians today are descendants of European immigrants, mostly from Italy, Spain or Germany.

De Robertis managed to show all how the realities of these immigrants was, but she also makes you feel like you are there, in La Boca, listening to tango and wanting to dance. I used to live in a neighbourhood close to La Boca so you can imagine how easy it was for me to picture its cobbled streets and brightly painted houses.

The best part of all this is that this book not only has a lovely prose, but it feels Argentinian. It.. I don't know how to explain it, but it feels like home. Like this story actually happened in Buenos Aires, that Dante came from Italy and fell in love with tango and our country.

I'm so happy that I decided to read because I would have missed a fantastic story.

Shout out to Adriana from perpetualpages who made discover this book. Their review was fantastic and I glad that I decided to read it ♥

[Wojciech Szot · Rating 4 out of 5]

- Polacy pokochali jednopłciową parę w TzG! - gdzieś mignął mi taki nagłówek. Polacy - o czym pisze Wicha w swojej nowej książce - są bardzo kochliwi. Pokochają tofu i nowe zmywarki - przynajmniej zdaniem nagłówków. O ile soja i AGD nie budzą u mnie żadnych emocji, tak taniec ma taką zdolność. Oglądany, nie performowany osobiście.

"Bogowie tanga" Caroliny De Robertis to opowieść o miłości do tańca, samotnej walce o prawo do bycia kim się chce w czasach, gdy nie było to takie łatwe. Choć i dzisiaj nie jest, bo przecież z pewnością nie wszyscy Polacy pokochali męsko-męską parę w telewizyjnym show.

Jeszcze pewnie nie wszyscy przeczytali "Cantoras" Caroliny De Robertis, a tu już na wasze półki chcą się wepchnąć "Bogowie tanga". Moim zdaniem warto dać się skusić na towarzystwo tej książki choćby dlatego, że jest to po prostu świetnie napisana, wciągająca opowieść o queerowym wymiarze.

Leda ma 17 lat i właśnie płynie do Argentyny, gdzie ma dołączyć do swojego męża. Jest rok 1913, bohaterka ma ze sobą kufer i skrzypce ojca. Jeśli naczytaliście się powieści, gdzie ukryte w bagażu ukochane instrumenty rodziców zwiastują kiczowatą opowieść, nie bójcie się. Leda odkryje, że mąż jest trupem, a przeżycie w Buenos Aires, gdy jest się samotną nastolatką, nie należy do łatwych.

Marzeniem bohaterki powieści De Robertis jest wejść do niedostępnego dla kobiet świata tanga. Tak też Leda przeobraża się w Dantego, a jej/jego życie wypełnią kochanki, przygody i - jakże by inaczej - taniec. Brzmi to wszystko skrócone do akapitu tak, że można zwątpić, czy to aby na pewno powieść z ambicjami. Ale nie dajcie się zwieść! De Robertis jest gadułą, nie boi się fikcji i pozwala sobie na odejście od dosłowności realistycznej i historycznej. Bo fikcja przecież od tego jest, by trochę zamieszać w historii.

Może się skusicie...

[Ewa (humanizmowo) · Rating 4 out of 5]

Nie przypuszczałam, że tak mi się spodoba. Idealnie podkreśliła różnicę uprawnień kobiet, a mężczyzn w tamtych czasach.

[Sheri · Rating 5 out of 5]

An exquisite book. One can hear the music in the writing. When finished, I simply stared out the window for a very long time...it would have been impossible to do anything but hold the characters and their stories close to my heart.

[Judy · Rating 5 out of 5]

Another fabulous novel! It will live on in my memory perhaps for as long as I live.

In 1913, Leda leaves her tiny Italian village for a new life in Argentina. Her cousin/fiance has been there for a couple years and has finally written for her to join him. The wedding ceremony has taken place in her village without him present and her mother is so angry with her for leaving that she will not even say goodbye. Oh, the terrible things we do to each other. In addition, Leda's best friend has recently died under horrific and mysterious circumstances.

So, along with a suitcase and a trunk containing her father's violin, she boards a ship with hopes, fears, and losses as her primary baggage. When she finally arrives in Buenos Aires, she is greeted by her new husband's best friend with the shocking news that Dante is dead, killed by a stray bullet in an Anarchist riot just for being an innocent bystander.

Buenos Aires is a city teeming with immigrants, a violent place with large areas of poverty contrasted with the wealthy. After months of barely surviving as a single woman, Leda becomes infatuated with the Tango, teaches herself to play the violin with the help and encouragement of an old man who lives in her building, and decides to go into the city's nightlife as a male violinist. She takes Dante's name, wears his clothes and lives an incredible life as a musician.

The novel is as seductive and flamboyant as a Tango. Having been a violinist earlier in my life, having played in orchestras, sung in bands, and written my own music for many years, I was enthralled. This is also a history of the Tango, a musical genre that has parallels to the Blues in North America, and has gone through constant changes as it became one of the most popular musical and dance styles of South America. I watched videos of the Tango as I read.

Leda's story, living as Dante, is dramatic, full of challenges, triumphs and heartbreak. It is also a tale of her awakening sexual identity and the conflict between the accepted church-inspired views of women with what really goes on in the secret personal lives of both men and women.

Carolina De Robertis writes prose the way a composer writes music and drew me into a rich and passionate world I had not known much about. It is a sexy novel that will have you reaching for your partner or sending you out to find one.

[Justin · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book has been on my shelf for quite some time, and I really wish I'd given it a chance earlier because I really loved it (but, you know, all things in their due time). What a great queer story. I took my time with this one because I really wanted to absorb the beautiful writing and it paid off. The characters were so vivid, the way the author wrote about music made it feel almost tangible, and the backdrop of Buenos Aires in the 1910s was so rich and grand. I completely felt every emotion out of the protagonist and I was devoted to their story. This is the second book I've read by De Robertis - after Cantoras, which is another must read - and I think I'm now a devoted fan.

[Meg - A Bookish Affair · Rating 5 out of 5]

4.5 stars. "The Gods of Tango" is the story of Italian immigrant Leda who comes to Argentina in the early 1900s. She is married to her cousin and when he suddenly dies, she is left alone in a city where she knows no one. She will have to carve out a life for herself in this brand new place. She is swept up in the tango music of the city, which isn't really open to women at the time. So she decides to live her life as a man, never telling anyone her secret, which could ruin her career. This is a sweeping novel that looks at what it means to carve out a true life for yourself.

Leda is a fascinating character. She goes through so much trouble to disguise herself as a man and does it so well that she is able to not only live as a man but to love as a man as well. This gets her into trouble later on in the book but it was fascinating to see how long she was able to carry out the ruse for. She struggles with who she is. Society is not particularly open to women at the time and certainly not open to lesbians. You are pulling for her the whole time as you just want her to be able to live her life in the way that she wants to live it. I really liked that the author shed light on a time when people had to be completely closed off about who they loved if it didn't fit the embraced narrative of the day: one man, one woman, forever and always.

The book takes place mostly in Argentina with a bit in Italy at the beginning and Uruguay at the end. I love reading books set in South America and it doesn't seem like I get there often enough in my reading travels. This book gives a lot of good detail about what was going on in Buenos Aires at the time and how the city was changing. I really enjoyed all of the detail and this book made me crave reading more historical fiction set in South America.

Overall, this book was off the beaten path, which I really enjoyed. It's a good read with good detail and memorable characters.

[Louise · Rating 5 out of 5]

In 1913 Leda married her cousin Dante by proxy (his father stood in for him) and left her small town in Italy to be with him in Argentina. Upon arrival she finds he had been shot in an anarchist demonstration. This is the story of her luck and pluck as she seeks to make a life for herself. Music, tango music, is her passion and chosen profession.

Besides the story of Leda and descriptions of life in southern Italian towns and in the conventillos of Buenos Aires, the reader is introduced to the birth and growth of tango. It starts small among the poor with available instruments. It seeps into brothels and to fancy clubs. It adds new instruments, vocals and female dancers.

The book provokes thoughts on gender roles and the difficulties of women in meeting society’s expectations. There are great scenes when Leda looks men in the eye and spits on the sidewalk with an appreciation of these gestures. I had not expected the plot.

In the early part of the book it seemed that the writer was stretching the story. As the story comes to a climax it’s a page turner.

Credit needs to go to the Knopf book designer. Not only is the cover beautiful, you see the care with which the paper, the print and binding were selected.

I would give this book 4.5 stars because of the early labored writing, but I’ll give that a pass and give 5 stars for the difficulty of and daring in telling this story.

[dianne b. · Rating 2 out of 5]

Why didn’t i like this? i never really cared about the likable but - what...boring? - protagonista. She never seemed to bravely choose, but rather be lead by the nose as she stumbled into her life. Ugh.

i loved this author's other 2 novels - although they both took awhile to catch my imagination. This one never did. There were moments of intensity (such as Alma’s surprising announcement), but they were so fleeting and seemed to wither on the vine. Ah well, guess i’ll go put on my Carlos Gardel CD and gaze at the Uruguayan sky, while i wait for life to happen to me.

[becky · Rating 5 out of 5]

5/5 stars

Comment: go over the content and trigger warnings, then decide if that's something for your, go pick up the book, read it and fall in love.

[gloria .☆ﾟ.]

this synopsis sounds incredible

[Caitlin D · Rating 4 out of 5]

I'm a simple gay. I see a Carolina De Robertís book, I immediately stop what I'm doing to devour it, then spend the next few days with a book hangover still lost in the world of her words.

The Gods of Tango follows Leda, who is also Dante, a 17-year old Italian who sails to Buenos Aires in 1913 to reunite with her "cousin-husband". When Leda arrives she learns her husband is dead. In a city bursting at the seams with immigrant men Leda discovers the world of the tango. In order to survive in a city hostile to unmarried women, Leda becomes Dante and passes as a man. As Dante she is able to play the tango and join a small orchestra as a violinist. Along the way we meet a cast of characters from Leda's past and current life meanwhile Dante must protect his secret. As he becomes more comfortable in his new life, Dante begins to grapple with his gender identity and feelings towards women.

De Robertís is a master at creating an authentic, vibrant world where every character, no matter how minor, has their humanity revealed and explored. Her writing is both fearless and compassionate. She never falls into stereotypes or stale tropes rather, she takes characters so often glossed over and used as pawns in literature (e.g. prostitutes) and lets us into their inner world without judgement. Dante/Leda was a fascinating character to live with and you cannot help but root for him. Dante/Leda's inner thoughts and musings felt appropriate to the language and understandings of gender/sexuality of the time-period.

To see the world, to see people, through the eyes of Carolina De Robertís is a gift. To be able to craft a sentence like she does. Even when she is describing the most mundane, or even squeamish, things her prose is beautiful. Seriously, Ms Carolina could write my death warrant and I'd be like "yes girl! Absolutely. Get it queen!"

[Jessica J. · Rating 3 out of 5]

A gender-bending tale set in early 20th century Argentina, it's a little weird to think that this book isn't really breaking all that much ground. It's visiting themes have been around at least since Shakespeare. But this one promised something new: the flavor or tango as an up-and-coming sensation.

I enjoyed Perla, the only other book I've read by Carolina De Robertis. That one also took place in Argentina, focusing on the Disappeared of the late 20th century. I had every intention of one day reading her first novel, Invisible Mountain, but was surprised to find this one sitting in the New Releases section at the library. I picked it up without a second thought.

Our protagonist, Leda, emigrates from Italy to Argentina to be with her husband, a political exile who took off a year prior. She sets sail after their by-proxy wedding, armed with a few articles of clothing and a violin, only to discover upon arrival that Dante has been killed. Going back to Italy isn't much of an option -- Leda's broke and sees nothing but dead ends for her back home anyway. There aren't a lot of ways to make money as a woman in Argentina and she's going to need a place to live, so she decides to pass as a man. In the meantime, Leda also discovers a passion for tango music -- at the time heavily associated with the lower classes and considered perhaps unfeminine -- and uses her violin and new male identity to pursue that passion.

The Gods of Tango is frequently described around here as "lush," and that's certainly a fair assessment; it's full of evocative descriptions of exotic locales at a very specific point in time. Unfortunately, though, I had a hard time getting into it. The first 100+ pages of the novel are more or less outlined in the jacket copy, which killed all the suspense and caused it to move very sloooowly. By the time the plot started picking up, I was already sort of checked out. As I said, the language is lush and certainly has a strong sense of place. But that sense of place sometimes overshadows the character development and the movement of the plot in a way that I didn't find engaging. I think this book would be great for readers who are looking for that kind of descriptive writing, but I don't think it was really for me.

[Bob H · Rating 5 out of 5]

This remarkable, moving book evokes a time and places – Italy and Argentina in 1913 and later – in which women were confined in narrow roles, roles enforced violently at times. Yet Leda, using her wits and musical talent, disguises herself as Dante and proceeds to cross all boundaries of poverty, nationality, gender, class, sexual orientation, romance. The later-day “in the closet” doesn’t even begin to explain the times and the dangers. Discovery could be fatal, literally, so her rise through the new tango scene is terrifying as she continues her disguise in the most public way, on stage as part of a rising music group in a field closed to women. The story – and her back-story, flashbacks to her home village in Italy – makes the reader want Dante so somehow win in the end, or at least somehow survive the dangers in every step, every dance.

“This new life brought many freedoms. She could smoke, she could walk the streets at night, she could curse and spit into gutters. She could hold down a job that paid twice as much as anything a woman could do with her clothes on. But there were also new demands. She had to be extremely careful with her posture (head up, shoulders squared) and her gait (long sure strides, no swaying hips). She had to exude confidence, if not outright bravado, at all times ...”

The prose can be hypnotic, lyrical, flowing, an evocation of the time and place and a new craze: “...that was when they truly merged, the song robust, men dancing again, with each other or with whores and by the third song the guitarist had emerged from the back room and joined back in and it was magic to blend sound with them like this, with strangers, and the sound they made was red red red and stripped of all the lies they told all day and night to survive these Americas, a naked sound that pulsed with everything they longed to be and never would become except like this, alone in a crowd, playing tango. They played for two more hours, during which the wounded violinist bled to death in the back room ...”

An astonishing, enthralling, gripping story of a time and a main character whom the reader will understand, follow, dance with. Highest recommendation.

[Diane S ☔]

Need to think about this one. Not sure whether to rate if three or four stars. The smells and sound are vividly portrayed. She captures the music, the essence of the tango and her writing is wonderful.

[Gabriella · Rating 5 out of 5]

Carolina De Robertis has profoundly touched my soul yet again 🥺

Buddy read with Hsinju!

[Kim Becker (MIDDLE of the Book MARCH) · Rating 5 out of 5]

***4.5 stars Beautiful.

[Claire · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is the story of Leda, a girl from a small Italian village outside of Naples, who when she learns that her cousin Dante is taking the ship to Buenos Aires to seek his fortune and future, attaches herself to him in the months before he leaves, making him make her a promise, to wait for her.

To follow him means becoming betrothed to him and the story opens with their proxy marriage, Leda marries Dante in the village, with her father-in-law standing in the place of the groom. Thus she sets off two years after the promise is made to join her husband, her father's parting gift, the violin that belonged to her grandfather, the instrument she was never taught to play, but longed to know its secrets.

On arrival in Buenos Aires, she is met by Arturo, who informs her of the dreadful accident. She is in this bustling, unforgiving city, alone, without friends or family. And as a young woman, the work she can do won't be enough to keep on the room Dante had kept for them.

The novel is about Leda's desire and determination, to make a life for herself, to play the violin, to live without being observed, to be the observer, to walk a fine line between freedom and safety, as she finds a way to enter the world of music, a world forbidden to women, as a man.

She arrived in Buenos Aires in 1913, just as the music of the tango was transforming. After weeks of watching, an opportunity arises to join a group when an altercation leads to the stabbing of a violinist. From there she, who has become he, is spotted by Santiago, a bandoneón (a type of concertina found in Argentina and Uruguay) player, who puts together a quartet and is aiming for a higher class of establishment, the cabaret and dance halls.

The transformation in her life and work, follows that of the transformation of the tango, the addition of the bass, the piano and finally the addition of a voice.

Leda finds a way to be one of the guys, unveiling her own passion as she navigates a dangerous situation that must remain secret if it is to be sustained.

It's an enjoyable read and an insight into what must have awaited those who left Europe for Buenos Aires at the beginning of the twentieth century, what a tough environment it was for women to survive in and the development of this music and dance that came with its own set of rules and transgressions.

[Neil · Rating 5 out of 5]

wow, naprawdę zatonąłem...

[Magda Dziedzic · Rating 2 out of 5]

2,5

[maria 🪼 · Rating 5 out of 5]

OHHHHH

[Luke · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5/5

Music on the night streets to terrorize the cobblestones.

I've been working on a GR directory of trans lit cause it's better than capitalism or alcoholism and gives me something life affirming amongst all this hate. This was the first work that both stood out and was at a local library, and the woman of color authorship didn't hurt the roll of the dice. Reading it was an exercise in self-indulgence, but all in all, it worked more than it didn't, and enough of the main character's transmasc adventures mirrored mine (making a living, lusting after women, negotiating drugs, and all that jazz) that I can't help hanging on to it all for dear life. Then there's the music angle, which in this day and age is a boon: something historical in the midst of the audio Soylent Green, something bloody in the midst of the vacuousness, something magnificent amidst the drek. Add in the moments of riotous prose, and it's no wonder it worked for me.

There's something to be said for artistry, and pride, and laying out a measure of luck and lust in a chain that could tip easily over in ignominy and/or cis voyeurism and yet bears forth something purportedly long before its time. I find myself building off such every time someone calls me the right name, the right gender, and when it comes to this book's main character, I caught myself thinking that the name Dante would not have been a bad second choice for chosen name if it had come to such. As is apparent, it's for my own good to not review this objectively, as while the prose could be repetitive, it was a balm, and while the plot could be stagnant, it was a boat, and while the characters muddled down into undifferentiated inner narration, it proved stable enough to nourish and gratifying enough to continue on. Of course this is far from every transmasc's journey (even the better medicine cannot guarantee Dante's blissful ending, but from the standpoint of art, of diversity, of pushing towards a future and living long enough to see it bear fruit, I can only hope to match this narrative to some joyous degree.

Hold her close, compadre, Dante would think, flick your leg between hers, press her so gently to the left that she believes the turn is born from her own will, hold the small of her back like it's the core of every pleasure on this earth, and I will give you my sound, over and over, night after night, my sound will move you, my sound will guide you, my sound, through you, makes love to her.

Pride finds me conserving my energy before the next appointment/surgery/fight, as there's nothing like a consecrated month to put a target on your back. It is nice, then, to find something amongst the more humble side of recent literature, neither ultra popular nor super revolutionary but a solid piece of historical fiction that acknowledges the reality of my existence and credibly transplants it down south and a century prior. Best yet that this work resides at a local library whose collection I do not have to personally oversee, as good intentions are little protection against exhaustion. I don't see this work satisfying the highfalutin types who encounter a work by a woman of color once every decade (if that), but if more reasonably well regarded post-2000 fiction turned in this direction, literature would be a more hopeful place.

For every person who knows the roots of tango there will be one hundred people who do not and maybe one day those who do know will all disappear. But the secret lives on, it beats in the drum, and in these syncopations even when the drum is gone, in the steps of dancers who'll never know they're mimicking the steps of an old religion that arrived here in the festering bellies of slave ships like the only bright thing left in hell: a god and goddess dancing side by side the way they used to do before the tango made them face each other and embrace. Then those white people wonder why the dance makes them feel so alive.

[Estelle · Rating 3 out of 5]

I wanted to like this book. And I do. But... I really think it tries to do too much. The story of the tango is interesting - it's evolution in South America from African drums through the music of the lower class and brothels, and to the risqué dancing halls of the rich. Paralleling the changes in clientele is the change in instruments and their sound. It's a good story. I wouldn't mind a soundtrack to go along with the book. Maybe in the audio version?

Then there is the theme of the immigrant woman, Leda, married by proxy, who travels alone from Italy to Argentina to join her husband only to find out he had been killed there. Her story of how she survives - hiding her identity, taking on the role of a man, learning his gestures and "man talk" - is wrapped in the story of the tango. Certainly all immigrants didn't do this; but from the description of living conditions on the conventillos of Buenos Aires one can see why it might happen.

Then there are the two themes that unnecessarily complicate, and perhaps distract from the story. One is the theme of lesbian love, complicated by Leda's concealed gender; there is quite a lot about this theme, and, of course, it is another big complication in Leda's life. But is it necessary to the story? The other is the early death of Leda's cousin-friend, Cora, in Italy, to whom she was strongly attached. It crops up multiple times but is never fully explained, and only seems to affect Leda in Cora's desire for them to to move away together.

The writing is good. So I'd like to give the book 5 stars ( and I'd like to know more about the tango) I feel it's more like a 3.5 for me.