Dormir al sol

by Adolfo Bioy Casares

Dormir al sol es una novela epistolar. Lucio Bordenave le escribe a su amigo Félix Ramos y le cuenta los momentos vividos desde que conoce a un adiestrador de perros llamado Standle. Lucio Bordenave, un relojero por resignación que aprende ese oficio cuando lo echan de un banco, se desvive por su mujer Diana, cuyo malhumor él atribuye al hecho de no haber podido tener hijos. El inestable clima de la pareja se termina de romper cuando conocen al profesor Standle, un inexpugnable alemán que dirige una escuela para perros. Al igual que el pasaje de Villa Urquiza en el que viven conforma un barrio dentro del barrio, una técnica psiquiátrica novedosa y demasiado eficaz convierte esta aparente novela costumbrista en una historia fantástica, tan laberíntica y fascinante como el mismísimo Parque Chas que, por supuesto, también le sirve de escenario. Alejandro Chomski estrenó la película Dormir al sol en 2012 con Luis Machín como Lucio Bordenave.

Genres: Fiction, Latin American, Literature, Novels, Spanish Literature, Latin American Literature, Classics

182 pages, Kindle Edition

First published January 1, 1973

About the author

Adolfo Vicente Perfecto Bioy Casares (1914-1999) was born in Buenos Aires, the child of wealthy parents. He began to write in the early Thirties, and his stories appeared in the influential magazine Sur, through which he met his wife, the painter and writer Silvina Ocampo, as well Jorge Luis Borges, who was to become his mentor, friend, and collaborator. In 1940, after writing several novice works, Bioy published the novella The Invention of Morel, the first of his books to satisfy him, and the first in which he hit his characteristic note of uncanny and unexpectedly harrowing humor. Later publications include stories and novels, among them A Plan for Escape, A Dream of Heroes, and Asleep in the Sun. Bioy also collaborated with Borges on an Anthology of Fantastic Literature and a series of satirical sketches written under the pseudonym of H. Bustos Domecq.

Reviews

[Glenn Russell]

Asleep in the Sun - This short, crisp Adolfo Bioy Casares nuthouse novel (67 chapters in less than 200 pages) should come with a warning: beware the booby hatch, fear the funny farm, look out or you’ll wind up in the loony bin.

I know, I know, hardly politically correct but such language is very much in keeping with the spirit of the book where men and women “had to be put away” for no more compelling reason than in certain Buenos Aires neighborhoods sending your spouse to the madhouse amounted to a current fad.

Fantástico Buenos Aires. Must be something in the maté everyone drinks to make their imagination dance the tango. To add a dash of local color, the street art I’ve included here is from the fair Argentine city.

Other than a few pages at the end, the entire book is Lucio Bordenave writing a long letter to his friend. Poor Lucio! He dearly loves his wife Diana and regrets sending her off to undergo a new treatment hatched by psychiatrists at the local insane asylum. But it appeared to Lucio to be sound reasoning at the time - after all, a dog trainer by the name of Professor Standle advised psychiatric intervention since Diana couldn’t make up her mind which dog to bring home for a pet, couldn't even decide after multiple visits to his dog kennel. Oh well, Lucio has to live with his decision.

But not long thereafter, as bad luck would have it, events come full circle: that letter Lucio is writing his friend is being written after Lucio is locked up in a padded cell on the fifth floor of a bughouse. Watch out for those doctors with their injection needles, Lucio! You just might wind up on the operating table as part of an experiment that usually only happens in horror films or tales of the fantastic.



Speaking of the fantastic, Adolfo Bioy Casares had none other than Jorge Luis Borges for a mentor. I can detect Borges' influence on the author - this pithy novel is so well written and tightly constructed it is a close cousin to one of the master's longer tales. But let me tell you folks, Asleep in the Sun is wacky and screwball with an unexpected jaw-dropping twist at the end.

Not one more word about plot other than saying I was reminded at points of the Mad Hatter's tea party. Rather, to convey a sense of what Lucio must contend with, here's several telling snapshots:

Our nervous narrator lives with his wife’s family in a close-knit Buenos Aires neighborhood. But once inside, he’s subjected to a continual stream of aggravation, arguments and attitude - in a very real sense Lucio is a prisoner in his own home. Ever since Lucio lost his job at the bank, he spends more time in his watchmaking shop. But he can’t get away from the noisy, nosy neighbors. Complaining about all the noise is useless. His father-in-law tells him: “Normal boys express themselves by setting off firecrackers, ripping open cat’s bellies and fist-fighting.”

When “the misses” (the way Lucio refers to his wife) is bouncing off the walls in the rubber room at the ward, he brings home a dog also named Diana, a wonderful, playful pet with such an affectionate heart, a gentle, agreeable companion. If only humans could be so affectionate and agreeable . . . hmmm, maybe something can be done about that.

An old snarling relative, Ceferina, lives in the house as does Adriana María, Diana’s sister, a woman who looks very much like Diana except for different color hair. When Diana is locked away, one night Adriana María comes after Lucio in his bedroom and tells him she’s a real tiger. Lucio rejects her offer and several days later is treated to Adriana María’s fury: “I always thought you were more of a man, but I swear, now I understand my sister and I even sympathize with her and I congratulate her with all my heart for going after the dog trainer.” No exactly the family harmony a high-strung man like Lucio is looking for.



When Diana finally returns home, Lucio is all tears and kisses. But there are those other members of the family that must be dealt with. During one holiday get-together, Lucio and Diana go out to join others like “two Christians facing the lions.” It doesn’t take long before Adriana María lashes out at her sister. Diana’s father, Don Martín, becomes furious and rails at daughter Adriana María, “First you tell me what’s the big idea talking that way to my Diana, who just got out of the nuthouse?” Ah, family. Such sensitivity.

What I’ve noted here does not cover the last dozen or so chapters following Lucio being jabbed by a needle and waking up in a white room in a bed with white iron posts. Then much of the fun really begins. There’s Dr. Samaniego and Dr. Rivaroli and luscious nurse Paula who assures Lucio she is on his side. Lucio reacts to the head doctor when certain revelations are made: “You’ve lost your sense of decency. Didn’t they ever tell you that you shouldn’t mess around with people like that? I’m telling you. You think you’re a great man and you’re a common merchant of bodies and souls. A butcher.”

What does it all mean? I urge you to read this overlooked classic to find out. But as you are reading please keep in mind what the Doormouse said.




Adolfo Bioy Casares, 1914-1999

"I recall those last days with true apprehension. They reappear in my mind enveloped in a strange light, as if they were views or paintings of a nightmare in progress where the whole world, the children and the people I bear closest to my heart, suddenly pursue some incredibly evil design." - Adolfo Bioy Casares, Asleep in the Sun

[Adam Dalva · Rating 4 out of 5]

Not quite as good as The Invention of Morel, but much funnier. The book has a clever plot that takes WAY too long to get cooking, but the second half is really delightful. What I like about Casares is his weirdness - he zigs when he should zag and he's not worried about big finishes. Repetition hurts this book (it really would have been better as a short story), but it's breezy and has some unique moments. Genuinely scary at a couple of points too. A weird one.

[A. · Rating 4 out of 5]

Lucho es un relojero concienzudo en su trabajo y sumiso en su vida matrimonial. Diana, Su esposa bella y tiránica, es internada en una especie de psiquiátrico (sin que se aclaren mucho los motivos ni siquiera para el marido) bajo la científica promesa de que recibiendo tratamiento profesional adecuado, logrará convertirse "en otra persona". El bueno de Lucho se horroriza cuando comienza a sospechar que, literalmente, eso es lo que ha ocurrido.

¿Qué amamos de las personas a las que amamos? ¿Cuáles son las virtudes que los hacen únicos ante nuestros ojos? ¿Los amaríamos igual sin sus virtudes? ¿Y sin sus defectos? ¿Cuánto conocemos realmente al ser humano que ronca plácidamente a nuestro lado todas la noches? Una reflexión, no exenta de mordacidad acerca de la convivencia, de las motivaciones de dos que se eligen con todo y sobre todo... a pesar de todo.
Para mí, un lindo libro de Bioy.

[Lynne King · Rating 5 out of 5]

The dog, a tiger-striped mastiff was far as I could tell, unlike the usual mail carriers who month after month leave the magazines I anxiously await in the next door neighbour’s entrance-way, knew what he was doing. After giving me the envelope he looked at me with determination and, I now believe, with hope. He ran to the door, stood up on his hind legs, leaned on the latch, tried to open it. He couldn’t. I suppose that what then occurred was a conflict between his intelligence, extraordinary for an animal, and the reflexes of his species. The reflexes won over, the dog howled. The howls guided the hurried footsteps of a ragamuffin with very bushy eyebrows who works at the dog school on Estomba Street. When the dog saw him, he rapidly attempted a counter-attack and escape. He was restrained without difficulty.

I really have no idea why this book fascinates me but it does. Admittedly, it is not as good as “The Invention of Morel” but still it’s incredibly zany, satirical and in parts is absolutely insane. In fact at times I began to wonder what on earth possessed me to continue reading the book.

The novel begins simply enough but gradually plunges into utter confusion. The self-effacing Lucio Bordenave has recently lost his job at the bank and is living on the proceeds that he makes from making/repairing clocks. His wife (annoyingly referred to as the “missus” throughout the book) Diana is always complaining but Lucio puts up with it because after all she’s so very beautiful. But then gradually he becomes extremely frustrated with Diana’s rather odd behaviour which begins when she goes to a dog handler/teacher, Professor Standle, as she’s decided on a whim that she wants a dog.

As Diana progressively spends more and more time at his dog school, without choosing one of the dogs, Professor Standle suggests to Lucio that she should be taken to the nearby Mental Institute to be treated. Lucio agrees and so she’s taken away – just like that. Can you imagine deciding to do that on more or less a whim?

Lucio becomes more and more distressed at what he has done and has to bring her home. Upon her return, Diana is different. Ceferina, a relative who has stayed with Lucio since his mother died, is convinced that there is something wrong with the “missus”. She makes such snide digs that they add to the beauty of the story. Even Lucio is disturbed.

Well dogs, surprisingly one also called Diana, become involved, as does the sister-in-law Adriana María, who is practically identical in looks to her sister Diana. Experiments are taking place in the mental institute on souls and various other extraordinary things. Soon one cannot tell the difference between the dogs and the humans.

The plot, yes, does sound bizarre but this book is so skillfully written, tantalizing, has a carnival flavour to it and is also ludic, that I can truly understand why Jorge Luis Borges, who was to become Bioy’s mentor, friend and collaborator, thought so highly of his writing prowess.

The novel is divided into two parts: the first where Lucio is writing about the bizarre events and the second by Félix Ramos, an outsider observing these odd times.

I have never been to the Argentine but I would love to see Buenos Aires and this book has certainly been an encouraging factor.

The word that most intrigued me in the book was “maté” as many individuals appeared to enjoy drinking it. After hunting around it transpires that it is the national drink of the Argentine and comes under different names:

Yerba Mate or hierba mate or erva mate, in Portuguese (Ilex paraguariensis), or sometimes called simply maté, is a species of holly (family Aquifoliaceae) native to subtropical South America in Northern Argentina, Paraguay, Uruguay and Southern Brazil and Bolivia. It is used as a herbal tea.

Imagine a species of holly!

Well if you want to have some fun, do read this book. I highly recommend it. Believe me!

[Tony]

(I don't know if I could spoil the plot of this book beyond what the official squib or the back of the book already relate, but, you know: ALERT.)

When the first-person protagonist, Lucio Bordenave, is sitting in the doctor's office in the mental asylum where both he and his wife were patients and the doctor is trying to explain what all has happened to them, Bordenave keeps saying that he doesn't understand and the doctor keeps saying of course you don't understand. Or is the doctor talking to the reader?

Yesterday at breakfast, my waitress saw the cover of this book and, obviously amused, asked me what it was about. Well, I said, a guy's wife turns into a dog, or maybe not, but in any event it obviously means something else. Understand?

Bordenave worked in a bank but was let go for something sketchy and now works repairing clocks and watches. There is lots of time/watch wordplay, like: I don't ask you to give face value . . .

At one point, Bordenave was fixing a watch that had stopped at precisely 1:13. Figuring that authors don't just stop watches at a specific time and then tell the reader precisely what time that was for no reason, I made a note of it. A few pages later, Bordenave takes the 113 bus. In fact, he takes the 113 bus twice that day, the second time passing the dog school. I made another note.

So maybe I only partially understand. Like in a mirror dimly. Faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love. Understand?

[MJ Nicholls · Rating 4 out of 5]

Despite the back cover revealing the entire plot, this surreal anthropomorphic bodyswap novel contains as much wit as that other canine comedy, Mikhail Bulgakov’s Heart of a Dog. Lucio, in a series of implausible “letters” written from a mental asylum, narrates his tale of wife-fixing gone awry. Sending his wife Diana off to be “cured” of her undesirable traits, upon her return he finds a docile impostor inhabiting her body, and a dog in possession of her soul. Eager, in his bumbling way, to find answers, Lucio finds himself the victim of the sinister asylum doctors, rendered in the creepiest B-movie tradition. A diverting slice of unusualness for a lazy weekend with a fine, fine moral: don’t send you wife off to the nuthouse if she nags at you too much.

[David · Rating 5 out of 5]

What a perfectly odd gem of a story. Argentine authors seem to see the world much differently than others and that is a good thing. You have Borges. You have Bioy Casares, who was a friend of Borges. Although he did not get the fame of Borges, his acutely different view of the world puts him up there with Borges.

The story is simple. Lucio loses his job and settles on repairing watches. His wife, Diana, suffers from depression and this sends her back to a mental hospital. During this time, Diana’s sister stays with Lucio. She looks like Diana, but with a better disposition. One problem, the sister hits on Lucio. Lucio tries desperately to get his wife back and along the way gets a German Shepherd dog. It’s name? Diana. Finally Diana returns but she is not the same woman.

Lucio is not happy and trying to confront the doctor about his wife. Things change. Poor Lucio falls into a science fiction like hole. The dark underpinnings alter things into some twisted tale of betrayal, love, and dark science.

At first I thought, maybe this is a political story. You know Argentina in the 1970s was a turbulent time (the story was published in 1973). All of this is symbolism. Maybe?

Or maybe it’s a play on a double identities much like Saramago’s The Double (published in 2002, which perhaps inspired Saramago). All of this is a play on words. Maybe?

Or maybe a dark look at modern medicine and it’s use of pills, psychology and even the human psyche. Throw in the quest to find the human soul and you have science fiction. Maybe?

Or maybe it’s back to that weirdly dark twist on paranoias. Which would bring us back to the political, identity theft and dark science. Hmm. Did I just go in a circle? Is this book being over analyzed? Maybe I need a doctor? Help!

Ha ha. It was twistedly fun.

Thank you Glenn for your fine recommendation. This is a classic and I have the book with William Wegman’s dog portrait. Classic.

[Eylül Görmüş · Rating 5 out of 5]

"Bu dünyanın neden düzelmeyeceğini biliyor musun? Çünkü birinin hayalleri bir başkasının kabuslarıdır."

Bu ara kendimi bir Arjantin kampına aldım evet, vakti gelince sebebini paylaşırım ama bir süre size o diyarlardan seslenmeye devam edeceğim gibi... Arjantin edebiyatına dalıp da Casares okumamak olmazdı elbette - zira Borges'le dostluğu bir yana, kendisi bundan birkaç sene önce Morel'in Buluşu ile aklımı başımdan almıştı. Ne kitap, ne deha, bu nedir diye büyülenerek okumuştum Morel'in Buluşu'nu. Casares ile ikinci buluşmam Güneşte Uyumak ile oldu.

Yazarın en sevdiği kitabıymış kendisi. "Eğer kitaplar ev olsaydı, Güneşte Uyumak'ta yaşamak isterdim" demiş bir defasında - ne tatlı bir ifade. Ölümün fazlasıyla mevcudiyetini hissettirdiği diğer kitaplarının aksine, bu kitapta hayatı hissedebileceğimizi söylüyor Casares. Öyle sahiden.

Çok sıradan başlayan ve çok uçuk bir yere giden bir hikaye dinliyoruz kendisinden. Saat tamircisi olan anlatıcımızın karısı Diana'nın akıl hastanesine kapatılması ve ardından kendisinin Diana isimli bir köpek edinmesiyle başlayan olayları okuyoruz. Diana (insan olan) hastaneden çıkıyor ama başka, bambaşka biri olarak. Anlatıcımız onda neyin değiştiğini anlamaya çalışırken olaylar epey fantastikleşiyor. "Sevdiğimiz kişiyi sonsuza kadar tanıdığımız haliyle tutmanın imkansızlığı fikrinden" yola çıkarak yazdığı kitap, tam da buna dair düşündürüyor insanı.

Arjantin edebiyatının alamet-i farikalarından olan o "tuhaflık" hali, bu kitabın da her yerine sinmiş durumda ve nefis bir şey bu. Hayal güçlerini bu biçimde serbest bırakabilmelerini öyle hayranlık verici buluyorum ki, yazdıkları ve ilk bakışta gerçek birer manyaklık gibi gözüken metinlerin hepsini okurken müthiş bir haz duyuyorum. Bu kitaba dair tek eleştirim belki biraz fazla tekrara düşmesi olabilir, sonunda öğrendiğimiz şeyi daha erken öğrensek, bu kitap bir novella olsa örneğin çok daha leziz olabilirdi. Ama bu haliyle de çok güzel ve belki ilk bakışta öyle gözükmese de, çok, çok güzel bir aşk hikayesi bence bu. Çünkü işte şu unutmayacağım cümle: "Birinin diğerini sevme nedeninin, kusurları olabileceği hiç aklınıza gelmedi mi?" ❤️

Çok sevdim!

[Pia G. · Rating 3 out of 5]

lucio’nun karısı diana, toplumun uygun bulmadığı davranışları yüzünden bir kliniğe gönderiliyor. döndüğünde görünüşü aynı olsa da bambaşka biri, daha uysal, daha düzenli ancak lucio’nun sevdiği kadın değil. gerçek diana’nınsa başka bir bedende, bir köpeğin içinde yaşamaya devam ettiğini yavaş yavaş fark ediyor. yine de lucio’nun sevgisi hiç değişmiyor çünkü bazen sevmek, tanıdık bir hissi bırakmamaya çalışmak gibi bir şey.

casares bana, birini gerçekten sevmenin neye bağlı olduğunu düşündürdü. bir yandan da, farklı olanı bastırıp herkesi uygun hâle getirmeye çalışan bir dünyayı sorguladım kendimce. farklı olanın susturulması, değiştirilmesi ya da daha uyumlu birine dönüştürülmesi bunlar bugün bile fazlasıyla tanıdık.

bana biraz köpek kalbi’ni hatırlattı, onun aksine bu hikâyede anlatılanlar daha kişisel. sistem eleştirisi hissediliyor olsa da, hikâye daha çok bireyin içinde olup bitenlere odaklanıyor. fikrine hayran kalsam da beni pek içine çekemedi maalesef.

[Razvan Banciu · Rating 3 out of 5]

If you ask me (of course, you don't) there is only one question after you've finished this book: how is it possible that most great South American writers to have in their blood the sadness and mockery gene, grafted onto an often-existential vein?

I'd like to know the answer. It should be an interesting one, if any...

[Chris Via]

Video review: https://youtu.be/LQP-pOtA2m8in

[Eliana Rivero · Rating 4 out of 5]

De noche el hombre piensa de manera extraña. Considera creíble todo lo que es amenaza y espanto, pero descarta sin dificultad los pensamientos que pueden calmarlo

Realmente me gusta Bioy. Tiene unos temas muy creepy, pero que pueden llegar a ser verdaderos, si consideramos que la literatura fantástica es algo que puede pasar (aunque sea en un mundo paralelo). Es un maestro del suspenso y del misterio, y te hace dudar a cada línea y a cada acción de sus personajes. Menos mal que ya lo he leído antes y pude preveer un poco de qué iba el asunto del Frenopráctico, Bordenave y su esposa Diana. De todas formas, no dejó de sorprenderme.

Desde el principio estás desconcertado como lector, pues te parece que la historia solo cuenta la vida llena de celos en la familia de una pareja casada: Bordenave y Diana. Piensas que las mujeres están locas (Adriana María, Ceferina, la misma Diana) y Bordenave es un pobre diablo. Se entromenten terceros y la cuestión empieza a cambiar. Los personajes cambian. Sus almas cambian. Las relaciones entre los personajes son muy raras y es muy difícil comprender la psicología de los mismos. ¿Es que aquí no hay nadie cuerdo?

No sé qué más podría decir de esta novela o de su autor. Hay que leerla para entenderla. Hay que meterse en el desconcierto y sacar las conclusiones. Los finales siempre son fantásticos y para nada incoherentes mi favorito seguirá siendo El sueño de los héroes.

[Leonardo · Rating 5 out of 5]

La interrupción sutil, pero no por ello menos demoledora, de lo fantástico en la vida cotidiana es el modus operandi de esta novela de Bioy Casares. Como en otras obras de Bioy Casares, lo extraño va penetrando una cotideanidad de una familia que parecería no tener mayor vínculo con lo extraño que ser un matrimonio por demás "del montón". De manera gradual, pero irreversible, los elementos inquietantes van apoderándose de la trama y la otrora vida pacífica y anodina de los personajes termina por parecer un pasado casi de leyenda, frente a la avalancha de identidades intercambiadas y entrelazadas, que no respetan ni siquiera la supuestamente insalvable barrera entre especies, y que hacen que los personajes y los lectores cuestionen en qué medida pueden realmente conocer a la persona que se encuentra detrás de una mirada familiar. El hecho de que el personaje principal sea un relojero (profesión netamente humana, al menos en lo que respecta al afán de medir y controlar el tiempo) va de la mano con la detallada, pero no aparatosa, mención de calles y plazas, que cualquier habitante o persona familizarizada con Buenos Aires, podría identificar. Sin escenas apocalípticas o recursos pirotécnicos, Bioy Casares logró crear un relato inquietante y magistral.

[None Ofyourbusiness Loves Israel · Rating 3 out of 5]

Adolfo Bioy Casares, a maestro of Argentine literature and Borges’ literary accomplice, delivers Asleep in the Sun with a wink and a nudge, blending existential dread with a dash of dark comedy. Published in 1973, the novel is a Kafka-meets-Monty Python romp through identity, love, and the absurdities of modern life, all wrapped in the trappings of a sci-fi thriller. Bioy’s slyly mischievous style lures readers into a world where the mundane and the surreal tango with alarming grace.

Lucio Bordenave, a bumbling watchmaker, finds his life spiral into chaos when his wife, Diana, develops an inexplicable obsession with a peculiar dog-training institute. This institute, with its dubious promise of turning humans into obedient, tail-wagging versions of themselves, serves as a biting satire of societal conformity. As Lucio flails against the loss of Diana and his own existential quagmire, Bioy blurs reality and delusion so deftly that you’ll start side-eyeing your own dog.

The dog motif, both literal and symbolic, is the novel’s leash, tying together themes of loyalty, control, and transformation. Dogs here are not just man’s best friend but also his worst nightmare, embodying human desires and fears with a wag and a growl. When Diana muses, “Dogs are better than people; they don’t betray you,” the irony is so thick you could chew it like a rawhide bone.

Her transformation into a docile, dog-like state is both tragic and darkly hilarious, especially when Lucio, in a moment of sheer desperation, considers enrolling himself in the institute to win her back. The institute’s experiments, which strip humans of their individuality, are a chilling commentary on authoritarianism and technological overreach, yet Bioy peppers the bleakness with absurd humor. One particularly surreal scene involves Lucio dreaming of a dog-headed bureaucrat, a moment so bizarre it feels like Bioy is daring you to keep a straight face.

Asleep in the Sun remains startlingly relevant, its critique of societal pressures and the commodification of the self feeling eerily prescient in our age of Instagram influencers and AI overlords. Its exploration of love as both a redeeming and destructive force is timeless, as is its meditation on the tug-of-war between individuality and conformity. That said, the novel’s ambiguity and refusal to tie up loose ends frustrated me as I prefer my stories neat and tidy. Something here did fully connect. Perhaps it was the translation, perhaps something in the style of narration. I really wanted to love this book. Alas, it was just a three star affair for me. The ending, understatedly horrific, caught me by surprise like a dog that won’t stop barking at 3 a.m.

Spoiler warning!!! In this case, you can truly judge the book by its wonderfully apt NYRB cover.

[Nate D · Rating 2 out of 5]

Casares is a powerful storyteller, as seen in the esteem in which Borges held him, and novels like The Invention of Morel and Diary of the War of the Pig. But this one, a tale of the loves of humans and dogs, and the dubious aids of science, falls a little flat. To be sure, it's a quick read and page-turner by the finish, as Casares plotting never fails him. However, the path into that exciting story is a little jumbled and irritating. For one, though our narrator is a watch-maker, Casares, here, is not. I get the feeling that his gear-wheels don't exactly match up and he's wedging in improper parts to get the watch faced closed on all the elements his design demands. As a result, the construction doesn't really tick, neither with mechanical precision, nor with the warmth of the human heart that his non-watchmaking side demands. Which is in part due to the second problem, that he's written all of our key female characters as unsympathetically irrational, nagging, and annoying. Or protagonist loves his wife, but we can't entirely tell why, and even he admits maybe its just for her body. Not strong emotional clockwork here. Of course, our watchmaker isn't much better -- he's slow, easily manipulated, and puts the aforementioned wife in an asylum before anyone, reader or character, establish that anything is wrong with her. Of course, he regrets it immediately, and my sympathy for her was awakened, but by then it was too late for that. By the time the plot picked up, I was fully on board just to see what was happening, but I'd been shoved at a distance from nearly everyone involved. Sheer narrative thrill might have eventually taken over, but here the book was somewhat defeated by bad-blurbing. The Goodreads-supplied blurb is so wholly inaccurate as to seem to have been written by someone who had only barely heard about the book, while the blurb on my issue gave away secrets not revealed until the last 10 pages, which is a pretty horrifying blunder that really killed the narrative pleasures. My suggestion: go in totally totally blind, with fresh expectations, and then come and tell me if it's better that way.

[Mili · Rating 5 out of 5]

Dormir al sol es una novela corta, como suelen ser las obras de Bioy Casares, pero en el caso de Bioy la cantidad de hojas de inversamente proporcional a la calidad de la historia.

La historia es realismo mágico en su mejor momento, presentando a una familia normal que vive su vida tranquila. Poco a poco, empiezan a aparecer elementos en la historia que atacan esa normalidad y la van transformando, para descubrir finalmente que las vidas normales no existen.

Tiene un estilo impecable y es súper atrapante. Es una historia amena y muy graciosa, que hace reflexionar sobre nuestros afectos y el papel que ocupan en nuestras vidas las personas que nos rodean.

Se lee de un tirón, se recuerda para toda la vida <3 Sin dudas, uno de los mejores libros de autores argentinos.

[Jim · Rating 5 out of 5]

Adolfo Bioy Casares was a friend and collaborator of Jorge Luis Borges and was married to another noted writer, Silvina Ocampo. It took me a few years to appreciate his writing (albeit in English translation). Asleep in the Sun is on one level a fantasy, and on the other a subtle satire on the Argentinian love of psychotherapy.

On the advice of friends, Lucho Bordenave has his wife Diana committed to an asylum. While she is there, the in-laws come to stay with Lucho and try either to seduce or alienate him. Finally, Diana is released from the asylum, but Lucho misses the old Diana, including the things that made her neurotic. When he goes in to complain, he is sedated and finds himself a patient in the asylum. He manages to escape with the help of Nurse Paula, who has a thing for him.

But then the head of the asylum comes for him and tells him a strange story of Diana's original soul being transferred by some cockamamie surgery into a dog, which promptly runs away. Eventually, the dog returns, but the soul keeps getting transferred until one needs a program to tell what has happened to poor Diana.

If there is a moral, it's that it's best to be satisfied with what you have. One never knows what one is going to get if one kicks against the pricks.

[Práxedes Rivera · Rating 2 out of 5]

Terribly disappointed by this novel, which only gets interesting the last half dozen pages. Too much verbiage by the main character outlining his neuroses and insecurities (yawn!). The few noteworthy passages were not enough to sustain the boring barrage of senseless language.

[Emilio Gonzalez · Rating 4 out of 5]

Gran libro de Bioy Casares. Una novela corta con mucho humor al estilo Bioy, con el genero fantástico como núcleo de una historia muy intima que por momentos parece rozar lo surrealista. Siempre es un placer leer a Bioy Casares.

[Adriana · Rating 5 out of 5]

Exceptionala! De calibrul Inventiei lui Morel.

[Come Musica · Rating 4 out of 5]

Sulla scia del romanzo fantastico di Borges, con la scrittura asciutta tipica di alcuni argentini, Dormire al sole mette sullo stesso piano animali e persone, per curare le seconde attraverso le prime.

"Come dice il professore, fra la nostra intelligenza e la loro c’è soltanto una differenza di livello; ma non sono sicuro che questa differenza esista sempre."

Bello!

[Diana · Rating 3 out of 5]

Asleep in the Sun [1973/78] - ★★★1/2

"In Bioy's work, shadows and phantoms may become more "real" than what they represent." James Sallis, Introduction to Asleep in the Sun.

This short book is by the Argentinian author known for The Invention of Morel [1940], a fantastical novel where nothing is as it seems. Asleep in the Sun is as surreal, and filled with doubles and reality/identity-questioning. Our narrator is Lucio Bordenave, a watch-repairman, who is having trouble with his wife Diana, or is he? Diana finds herself in a psychiatric facility shortly afterwards, as Lucio gets a dog named Diana and his sister-in-law, that looks just like his wife, moves into their matrimonial home. When Diana is finally released, Lucio does not know whether to be happy or sad because Diana has changed and the changes are just too good to be true. This unusual story of marriage and nervous break-downs is enigmatic and refreshingly different, but never as subtle as one would have hoped and much more repetitive than needed.

[Alexis Brion · Rating 5 out of 5]

Divertida, pero no tonta, historia con un toque fantástico. Me encantó el personaje principal, Lucho, con sus cavilaciones, preguntas y “temitas” a resolver.
En mi opinión, los diálogos están bien logrados y son muy entretenidos.

[Accumulatrice di libri · Rating 4 out of 5]

Non le è mai passato per la testa che si possono amare le persone per i loro difetti?

[Richard Thompson · Rating 4 out of 5]

Lucho Bordenave is a sort of Argentine Gregor Samsa. In Lucho's case the tranformation doesn't happen (at least initially) to him but to his wife, and it's a tranformation of the soul not of the body, but he's the same sort of meek, put upon character as Gregor (or Akaky Akakievich or Bartleby the Scrivener) who is overwhelmed by the world around him and who finds himself in an inexplicable environment that is a metaphor for his own confusion and for the alienated modern condition that all of us experience. The scary father from Kafka becomes scary women in this story - the wife, the housekeeper and the sister in law, who all totally dominate Lucho. And just as Gregor after his metamorphosis tries in vain to escape his bedroom, only to be driven back by his father, Lucho tries in vain to escape incarceration in an insane asylum, only to be betrayed and driven back by one of the women.

Another very German aspect of this book is the use of the doppelganger motif - the wife, the sister in law, the dog that bears the wife's name and then later two other characters that appear at the end are all different versions of the same character. It creates a scary unreal world of mirror images in which Lucho can no longer be sure of anyone's identity or of his own sanity or whether he is paranoid or rightfully terrified of a conspiracy against him. And again, it's an expression of the alienation, inability to discern the truth and doubt about ourselves that we all experience in the modern world.

[Andrew]

Deeply disappointed that this didn’t do it for me. I so loved The Invention of Morel, but this was nothing like that slender volume of surreal beauty. Rather, it was a comic novel, but I have my suspicions about comic novels on the whole (I rarely laugh as much as promised), and especially those from cultures unfamiliar (given how culturally bound humor is, really more than anything else). And I guess I got it, but it just didn’t hit me… sorry to say, this was boring.

[WillemC · Rating 4 out of 5]

Een kafkaëske roman waarin klokkenmaker Lucio Bordenave zijn vrouw op aanvraag van een derde laat interneren in een psychiatrische instelling, zonder eigenlijk goed te weten waarvoor. Wanneer de vrouw na haar behandeling weer thuiskomt, blijkt ze veranderd te zijn: waar ze aan het begin van het huwelijk lichtjes gek was en op het moment van haar opname wat meer gestoord, is ze nu volledig genezen en mentaal compleet gezond. Bordenave belandt zelf uiteindelijk ook in een instelling en komt achter het geheim van dokter Samaniego. In "Slapen in de zon" ligt de focus op identiteit, de link tussen de geest en het lichaam en of we niet allemaal op het spectrum zitten. Vooral de eerste twee derden zijn sterk, naar het einde toe wordt het mij echter iets te veel een "mad scientist"-verhaal.

"Er zijn mensen die altijd een voorraadje irritatie bij de hand hebben."

"U zal het niet willen geloven: ik raakte gewend aan mijn buren en af en toe liep ik naar het raam om te zien of ze op hun post waren."

"Al dat schrijven is maar slecht voor de gezondheid."

[jeremy · Rating 3 out of 5]

asleep in the sun, a slim novel by late argentine writer aldolfo bioy casares, incorporates elements similar to those found in his other works. one of his later novels, asleep in the sun finds bioy exploring themes of identity, as well as one's place within society. the book's protagonist (and narrator), lucio bordenave, is a recently unemployed bank worker struggling with marital difficulties. when his wife is committed to the local sanitarium (under questionable pretenses), lucho consigns himself to bring about her release, only to find himself embroiled in something more sinister. bioy's construction of lucio is perhaps the novel's strongest facet, as his main character is a well-conceived individual possessed by the dueling imperatives of both conviction and self-doubt. asleep in the sun lacks the galvanism of bioy's most well-known and important work, the invention of morel, but, nonetheless, offers an enticing story with shades of the metaphysical.

[Harold · Rating 5 out of 5]

Great book! Bioy's writing has a comic touch that works well the subject matter at hand (this is true of everything I've read by Bioy). Im this case the plot is just enough past current medical science to make it a fantasy. As has been pointed out in previous reviews, the publisher's blurb on the back cover is innacurate in it's description of what occurs. Thankfully so - if this was not a writer that I was familiar with and predisposed to - I may have passed on reading this based on that blurb.

I wish there was more of Bioy available in English. The majority of his work remains untranslated into English and that is unjustifiable.

[Alejandro · Rating 5 out of 5]

Bioy Casares dice en el prólogo que esta novela es como una casa para él, que le gustaría vivir en ella y la verdad tiene razón. Una vez que se comienza la lectura es imposible dejarla y causa un disfrute difícil de explicar. Uno quiere que no se termine nunca. Me reconcilió con este autor al que le guardaba algo de tirria.