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Puente en la selva
La noche es profundamente oscura. Tenemos que ir adivinando el camino que conduce al puente. La linterna del maestro maquinista nos indica vagamente el camino. Después de algunos tanteos, más con los pies que con las manos, damos finalmente con los pesados tablones. "Cristo" vociferé. "Si no se anda uno con cuidado por aquí, de un resbalón va a dar al agua..."
Gerard Gales cazaba cocodrilos cuando visita un conocido estadounidense en un puente de la selva. En la tragedia que tiene lugar allí, el joven fuereño toca, de forma muy casual, pero gráficamente, importantes diferencias entre las culturas Indígena y Cristiana. El libro es básicamente una oda panteísta a la muerte de un niño, cierra con quizás el más extraño pero amable funeral en la literatura.
Puente en la selva apareció originalmente presentado en fascículos en el diario Vorwärts en 1927. Su primera versión larga fue publicada por Büchergilde Gutenberg en 1929. En Español se publica en Buenos Aires por primera vez en 1936, por Ediciones Imán. La primera edición en Inglés es una traducción de Traven, por Knopf en 1938.
Gerard Gales cazaba cocodrilos cuando visita un conocido estadounidense en un puente de la selva. En la tragedia que tiene lugar allí, el joven fuereño toca, de forma muy casual, pero gráficamente, importantes diferencias entre las culturas Indígena y Cristiana. El libro es básicamente una oda panteísta a la muerte de un niño, cierra con quizás el más extraño pero amable funeral en la literatura.
Puente en la selva apareció originalmente presentado en fascículos en el diario Vorwärts en 1927. Su primera versión larga fue publicada por Büchergilde Gutenberg en 1929. En Español se publica en Buenos Aires por primera vez en 1936, por Ediciones Imán. La primera edición en Inglés es una traducción de Traven, por Knopf en 1938.
260 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1929
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October 11, 2015
This amazing book may be the unsung masterpiece of the 20th century. First published in English while the Second World War was raging, and coloured by the author's radical politics, it sort of escaped notice, unlike some of his other works, most notably Treasure of the Sierra Madre, which was a great success as a film in the author's lifetime.
Yet it is this parable of the effect of western civilisation on non-western culture that has proved, for me at least, to be the most enduring of Traven's works. Going into its subject matter more deeply would spoil the potential for the powerful effect it can have on a reader, though even re-reading did not diminish the heart-wrenching of its central event for me. Its theology, as its politics, will be troubling for many people; it has resonated in me since I first read it in the 1960s and will go on resonating in me till I die.
Underneath it is as political as Traven's other so-called "Jungle novels", but it is often not included along with them as it does not have the overt revolutionary theme that characterises the others, like Rebellion of the Hanged and March to the Monteria. But it really belongs with them.
Anyone not knowing of Traven will find more about him in my review of The Death Ship, or by searching under his name for books about this surprising man.
Yet it is this parable of the effect of western civilisation on non-western culture that has proved, for me at least, to be the most enduring of Traven's works. Going into its subject matter more deeply would spoil the potential for the powerful effect it can have on a reader, though even re-reading did not diminish the heart-wrenching of its central event for me. Its theology, as its politics, will be troubling for many people; it has resonated in me since I first read it in the 1960s and will go on resonating in me till I die.
Underneath it is as political as Traven's other so-called "Jungle novels", but it is often not included along with them as it does not have the overt revolutionary theme that characterises the others, like Rebellion of the Hanged and March to the Monteria. But it really belongs with them.
Anyone not knowing of Traven will find more about him in my review of The Death Ship, or by searching under his name for books about this surprising man.
September 17, 2016
The Bridge in the Jungle
A novel by B Traven
I seldom read a book twice. There are too many other books that I will never get to.
This is an exception.
I first read The Bridge in the Jungle about 35 years ago. It was probably my first Traven.
I have revisited Traven recently consuming the Jungle series, the six linked novels that show the horrible exploitation of the indigenous population in the jungles of Mexico and the inevitable vengeful results.
The Bridge in the Jungle is not about exploitation, slave labor conditions, and rebellion.
This short novel takes place over a night at a little jungle outpost that is having a fiesta.
It is about an accident on the bridge that the whole party, the whole group, get swept up in.
The simple story of a mother, her son, and the whole group is told in great detail.
It is also the story of humans brought into rapid change. Modernity is coming and it has very unexpected hazards. As I modern reader, with more modern coming every day, anxiety over the new is familiar.
It is written from the POV of a North American traveler, adventurer, but one who has been around the place for awhile, enough to be knowledgeable.But he is still an outsider looking on and telling us what he sees.
Traven has a very fine way with this outsider stance. I feel it allows him to deliver a very clear picture, and in the jungle novels, describe more effectively the torturous life in the mahogany camps, without trying to color the picture with subjective emotional reactions. That way we can feel directly without his feelings in the way.
But this novel is rather gentle. It is not at all about humans acting violently and harming one another. It is about people coming together, it is a very human story.
This is a great novel that should have a wider audience.
A novel by B Traven
I seldom read a book twice. There are too many other books that I will never get to.
This is an exception.
I first read The Bridge in the Jungle about 35 years ago. It was probably my first Traven.
I have revisited Traven recently consuming the Jungle series, the six linked novels that show the horrible exploitation of the indigenous population in the jungles of Mexico and the inevitable vengeful results.
The Bridge in the Jungle is not about exploitation, slave labor conditions, and rebellion.
This short novel takes place over a night at a little jungle outpost that is having a fiesta.
It is about an accident on the bridge that the whole party, the whole group, get swept up in.
The simple story of a mother, her son, and the whole group is told in great detail.
It is also the story of humans brought into rapid change. Modernity is coming and it has very unexpected hazards. As I modern reader, with more modern coming every day, anxiety over the new is familiar.
It is written from the POV of a North American traveler, adventurer, but one who has been around the place for awhile, enough to be knowledgeable.But he is still an outsider looking on and telling us what he sees.
Traven has a very fine way with this outsider stance. I feel it allows him to deliver a very clear picture, and in the jungle novels, describe more effectively the torturous life in the mahogany camps, without trying to color the picture with subjective emotional reactions. That way we can feel directly without his feelings in the way.
But this novel is rather gentle. It is not at all about humans acting violently and harming one another. It is about people coming together, it is a very human story.
This is a great novel that should have a wider audience.
November 9, 2020
Konusu, Latin Amerika’daki bir kızılderili yerleşkesinde yaşanan bir seremoni. Bir ananın ıstırabını anlatıyor ve arka sayfa yazısından da anlaşılacağı gibi, ‘ her ülkeden, her ulustan, her ırktan, her renkten, her inançtan, her cinsten tüm canlı yaratıkların’ analarına adanmış.
Bir kızılderili yerleşkesinde geçtiği ve inanılmaz detaylarla anlatıldığı halde, Traven’in diğer kitaplarında hissettiğim, yöreye ve kültüre özgü atmosferi bu kitapta hissedemedim. Aradaki küçük detaylar olmasa, yaşananların bir Kızılderili köyünde mi, yoksa Amerika’nın bir kasabasında mı yaşandığını karıştırabilirdim. Ayrıca çocuğunu yitiren anneyi, babayı ve abiyi bir film izler gibi izliyoruz ancak acılarını tam anlamıyla hissedemiyoruz. Bu açıdan şaşırmadığımı söyleyemeyeceğim.
Diğer taraftan, her kitabında olduğu gibi yazar bu kitabında da inanç tartışması yapmakta, ırkçılığı, ayrımcılığı, kültürler arası farklılığı, yoksulluğu, sömürü düzeninin yöre halkı üzerindeki ‘modernleşme’ aldı altındaki bozulma etkisini çarpıcı bir dille anlatıyor.
Diğer kitapları kadar etkilemedi beni, ama okumak için ayırdığınız zamanın karşılığını alacaksınız.
“... Bunun yanı sıra uzun gezilerim sonucu, insanın kendi yurdunda bile birazcık dolaşmasıyla bile çok şeyler öğrenebileceği kanısına vardım. Ancak dolaşırken insanın gözünü açmasını bilmesi gerekiyor. Böyle küçük bir gezi yapan kimse, dünya turuna çıkanlardan çok daha fazlasını görecek ve öğrenecektir. Biri kalkıp Orta-Amerika cengelinde Kızılderililerin böyle bir köprüde neler yaptığına bakmak için gelirse, kendi yetiştiği kültür çevresinin çevrelerin en iyisi olduğu kanısına saplanıp kaldığı sürece, ne cengeli, ne köprüyü, ne de Kızılderilileri görebilecektir. Geziye çıkan ve bir şeyler görmek isteyen kimse, okulda ve üniversitede öğrendiği şeylerin bir çoğunun yanlış olabileceğini asla aklından çıkarmamalıdır…”, sf; 201-202.
Bir kızılderili yerleşkesinde geçtiği ve inanılmaz detaylarla anlatıldığı halde, Traven’in diğer kitaplarında hissettiğim, yöreye ve kültüre özgü atmosferi bu kitapta hissedemedim. Aradaki küçük detaylar olmasa, yaşananların bir Kızılderili köyünde mi, yoksa Amerika’nın bir kasabasında mı yaşandığını karıştırabilirdim. Ayrıca çocuğunu yitiren anneyi, babayı ve abiyi bir film izler gibi izliyoruz ancak acılarını tam anlamıyla hissedemiyoruz. Bu açıdan şaşırmadığımı söyleyemeyeceğim.
Diğer taraftan, her kitabında olduğu gibi yazar bu kitabında da inanç tartışması yapmakta, ırkçılığı, ayrımcılığı, kültürler arası farklılığı, yoksulluğu, sömürü düzeninin yöre halkı üzerindeki ‘modernleşme’ aldı altındaki bozulma etkisini çarpıcı bir dille anlatıyor.
Diğer kitapları kadar etkilemedi beni, ama okumak için ayırdığınız zamanın karşılığını alacaksınız.
“... Bunun yanı sıra uzun gezilerim sonucu, insanın kendi yurdunda bile birazcık dolaşmasıyla bile çok şeyler öğrenebileceği kanısına vardım. Ancak dolaşırken insanın gözünü açmasını bilmesi gerekiyor. Böyle küçük bir gezi yapan kimse, dünya turuna çıkanlardan çok daha fazlasını görecek ve öğrenecektir. Biri kalkıp Orta-Amerika cengelinde Kızılderililerin böyle bir köprüde neler yaptığına bakmak için gelirse, kendi yetiştiği kültür çevresinin çevrelerin en iyisi olduğu kanısına saplanıp kaldığı sürece, ne cengeli, ne köprüyü, ne de Kızılderilileri görebilecektir. Geziye çıkan ve bir şeyler görmek isteyen kimse, okulda ve üniversitede öğrendiği şeylerin bir çoğunun yanlış olabileceğini asla aklından çıkarmamalıdır…”, sf; 201-202.
November 13, 2014
Todos vivimos sobre una misma línea, dispersados en tiempo y espacio distintos, pero al final bajo las mismas reglas ¿de dónde proviene lo inexplicable? Todo aquello mágico e irracional, B. Traven nos sitúa en una comunidad selvática mexicana, nos lleva de la mano a presenciar la manera en cómo se vive ahí, aquello que se valora, aquello que se tiene, aquello que se ama, aquello que se escapa, aquello que no se entiende, aquello mágico y aquello tan humano; pertenecer, andar y marcharse.
Me es curioso el hecho de que puente en la selva forme parte de una colección para pequeños , ya que es algo trágica, pero bueno al final la vida es así.
Everybody lives in the same line, disperses on different time and space, at the end by same rules. Where the unexplained things come from? Magic and irracionable stuff. B. Traven take us to a mexican jungle comunity to explore the way how life is there. Everything they have or not, things they love, appraise, or hate, and all the magic and human stuff; be part of, keep walking, and gone.
Me es curioso el hecho de que puente en la selva forme parte de una colección para pequeños , ya que es algo trágica, pero bueno al final la vida es así.
Everybody lives in the same line, disperses on different time and space, at the end by same rules. Where the unexplained things come from? Magic and irracionable stuff. B. Traven take us to a mexican jungle comunity to explore the way how life is there. Everything they have or not, things they love, appraise, or hate, and all the magic and human stuff; be part of, keep walking, and gone.
December 15, 2014
Kubler-Ross described the five stages of grief in 1969. Traven in this novel published in 1938 describes anecdotally the same progression. What Traven is describing is a death in a very small remote village in a Mexican jungle. Even though the setting is one of the smallest human groupings, the death and the ceremonial swirl in its aftermath describes a very universal human set of reactions.
I think Traven is a relevant writer.
I think Traven is a relevant writer.
January 20, 2008
the story of who b traven may have been is as engaging as his books.
traven's dedication in the bridge in the jungle:
to the mothers
of every nation
of every people
of every race
of every creed
of all animals and birds
of all creatures alive
on earth
traven's dedication in the bridge in the jungle:
to the mothers
of every nation
of every people
of every race
of every creed
of all animals and birds
of all creatures alive
on earth
July 13, 2014
Un explorador norteamericano se interna en la selva mexicana que abarca los estados del sur del país. Lo que descubre es un a grupo de comunidades que viven en suma pobreza, pero también con una vida espiritual donde el sincretismo entre la religión nativa y la católica sirven de estructura para comprender los actos y sucesos que los rodean. Con una prosa dotada de imágenes, sensaciones, preguntas, diálogos directos e indirectos, vacilaciones de los personajes y el detalle moroso de ciertas descripciones, Traven nos lleva a una noche junto a un puente en el que primero desaparece un niño. ¿Habrá muerto? ¿Se habrá ido? ¿Lo raptaron? Es una gran novela en el que la selva se muestra con toda su acritud, y los hombres, los indígenas, se desenvuelven con todo su amor, dicho como su espiritualidad para poder sobrellevar el peso de la vida en esas latitudes.
November 2, 2021
3,5 stars
This book has a lot of interesting approaches, is incredibly nuanced and well written and offers a lot of criticism on capitalism and imperialism. However, it also includes some highly problematic parts and thoughts, then again this is also the author showing his protagonist in his conflicted cultural situation which leads to intentional criticism on his side again. Due to that, I felt conflicted at times and deemed the book as too long, because it is engaging, but drags on in some parts too, but I did enjoy it over all.
This book has a lot of interesting approaches, is incredibly nuanced and well written and offers a lot of criticism on capitalism and imperialism. However, it also includes some highly problematic parts and thoughts, then again this is also the author showing his protagonist in his conflicted cultural situation which leads to intentional criticism on his side again. Due to that, I felt conflicted at times and deemed the book as too long, because it is engaging, but drags on in some parts too, but I did enjoy it over all.
August 27, 2019
Pocos autores comprendieron el imaginario del indígena mexicano como Traven. Este libro remonta a muchas experiencias vividas en el país a pesar de no ser la obra más brillante.
March 12, 2023
"That these people who were so very courteous by nature should, in the presence of Sleigh and myself, talk in such away about Americans was proof that they did not count us among the gringos and thieves, simply because we were not oilmen, and therefor, in their opinion, we had no relationship with the race from which the oilmen come" (38).
"Men are devoted to those who admire them" (39).
"The children of the rich carry thicker and longer candles, richly decorated to show the Lord and His Virgin Mother, who otherwise might not know that the parents of these children can afford to be more generous--so far as candles are concerned, for in other things it does not matter because nobody can see it" (79).
"An old, old Indian woman with a thousand wrinkles in her face, who was surely more than a hundred years of age, was squatting on the bridge. Like all the others, she watched he procession, but she showed little interest, let alone curiosity. She was smoking a thick cigar and puffed away with great gusto. Seeing her calm and philosophic serenity, I realized it must be a very great thing to be a hundred years old and not an inmate of an institution for the aged, but rather the honored and respected chief of a family or clan" (81).
"How smart and clever you are, all you people of today! Talking of superstition and never knowing a goddamn thing about what is behind the world you see with your eyes--or you think you see while in fact you see nothing because you are blind and deaf and dumb and you can't even smell. That's the trouble you people suffer from" (82).
"After all, every religion is right and proselytism is always wrong" (83).
"Against the simple and natural clothes of the men the women's dresses from modern seat-shops make a pitiful contrast. What sin have these women committed that providence could allow Syrian jobbers to hang upon those beautiful bodies dresses designed by immigrant watch-repairers starving in New York's East Side?" (88).
"And it was surely a very good thing she had to get busy around her household. It would save her from becoming morose perhaps for the rest of her life. It is the first twelve hours that count. If one can survive them and keep one's reason under control during this time, one can find life worth while again in a few weeks" (104).
"...for the Lord in His infinite wisdom has so made the world that no one is so poor that he cannot be robbed by another, and no one is so strong that he cannot be killed by somebody else" (109).
"The agarista sang only church hymns. But nobody who knew Roman Catholic hymns would ever think that these songs were really church hymns. Perhaps Catholics used to sing that way when the first monks came wandering through the jungles to bring the true faith to the poor pagans of the Americas. But whatever the original tunes might have been like, they had since been blended with worldly songs, including American dance melodies of more recent times" (133).
"By walking thirty miles anywhere in one's home state the man who is open minded will see more and learn more than a thousand others will by running around the world. A trip to a Central American jungle to watch how Indians behave near a bridge won't make you see either the jungle or the bridge or the Indians if you believe that the civilization you were born into is the only one that counts. Go and look around with the idea that everything you learned in school and college is wrong" (143).
"As elsewhere, no battlefield is so sad and horrible that some men cannot make a good profit out of it. Everything under heaven can be turned to dollars or pesos" (144).
"We reach people so easily with our sailor suits, with our polished shoes, and our yeswehavenobananas. Would that we tried once in a while to reach them not with puffed rice and naked celluloid dames going with the wrong man in the right bed, but with the Gettysburg address, which next to God's rain would be the greatest blessing to all these so-called republics if we would take the trouble to make the people understand the true meaning of the greatest, finest, and most noble poem any American has produced to this day" (157).
"Hers is a race which has a great future, provided it is not taken in by instalment plans for buying things they can do without" (161).
"Long live the world which is so very funny to live in! What meaning to the living world that little box of decomposing flesh? None. How insignificant is man in the universe, how insignificant in his worries, his wars, his struggles, his ambitions, his trying to outwit his competitors! What is left of the great Caesar? There would be one Rome just the same. Caesar or no Caesar. Perhaps it would not be on the river Tiber, but there would be one Rome. What will be left to morrow of the dozen little Caesars of today who think that they can build up a new world and terrify mankind? What are all the wars and dictatorships and bolshevisms for if finally men always end up by doing not what is best for them, great men or not? So then why not enjoy life, love, merriment? And if some day you cannot enjoy them any longer, die and be forgotten and leave no ghosts behind. That's paradise" (162).
"This treatment of the teacher was caused not so much by a faulty government as by the fact that the resources of the republic are very limited and, as often happens in richer countries also, expenses for education and for schools in general come last. Soldiers always first. Another reason is that, just as elsewhere, politicians take twenty times more from the nation's income than is their legal share" (163).
"And still to this day I cannot laugh at this apparently funny situation. No one laughed. I know today as I knew then why no man laughed. Nobody laughed; neither did I, because I was one of them, and it was my boy who was to be buried just as he was the child of everybody present. No teacher was struggling to come out o f a grave into which he had fallen. I saw only a great brotherly love for his fellow men which had dropped into the grave and was struggling so hard to get out again. I can laugh at a thousand things and situations--even at the brutalities of fascism, which as I see them are but a ridiculous cowardice without limits. But I can never laugh at love shown by men for those of their fellow men in pain and sorrow. This love I witnessed was coming straight from the heart; it was honest and true as only love can be for which no one expects thanks because every one of us gathered here, not excluding the teacher had lost a beloved baby" (173).
"Men are devoted to those who admire them" (39).
"The children of the rich carry thicker and longer candles, richly decorated to show the Lord and His Virgin Mother, who otherwise might not know that the parents of these children can afford to be more generous--so far as candles are concerned, for in other things it does not matter because nobody can see it" (79).
"An old, old Indian woman with a thousand wrinkles in her face, who was surely more than a hundred years of age, was squatting on the bridge. Like all the others, she watched he procession, but she showed little interest, let alone curiosity. She was smoking a thick cigar and puffed away with great gusto. Seeing her calm and philosophic serenity, I realized it must be a very great thing to be a hundred years old and not an inmate of an institution for the aged, but rather the honored and respected chief of a family or clan" (81).
"How smart and clever you are, all you people of today! Talking of superstition and never knowing a goddamn thing about what is behind the world you see with your eyes--or you think you see while in fact you see nothing because you are blind and deaf and dumb and you can't even smell. That's the trouble you people suffer from" (82).
"After all, every religion is right and proselytism is always wrong" (83).
"Against the simple and natural clothes of the men the women's dresses from modern seat-shops make a pitiful contrast. What sin have these women committed that providence could allow Syrian jobbers to hang upon those beautiful bodies dresses designed by immigrant watch-repairers starving in New York's East Side?" (88).
"And it was surely a very good thing she had to get busy around her household. It would save her from becoming morose perhaps for the rest of her life. It is the first twelve hours that count. If one can survive them and keep one's reason under control during this time, one can find life worth while again in a few weeks" (104).
"...for the Lord in His infinite wisdom has so made the world that no one is so poor that he cannot be robbed by another, and no one is so strong that he cannot be killed by somebody else" (109).
"The agarista sang only church hymns. But nobody who knew Roman Catholic hymns would ever think that these songs were really church hymns. Perhaps Catholics used to sing that way when the first monks came wandering through the jungles to bring the true faith to the poor pagans of the Americas. But whatever the original tunes might have been like, they had since been blended with worldly songs, including American dance melodies of more recent times" (133).
"By walking thirty miles anywhere in one's home state the man who is open minded will see more and learn more than a thousand others will by running around the world. A trip to a Central American jungle to watch how Indians behave near a bridge won't make you see either the jungle or the bridge or the Indians if you believe that the civilization you were born into is the only one that counts. Go and look around with the idea that everything you learned in school and college is wrong" (143).
"As elsewhere, no battlefield is so sad and horrible that some men cannot make a good profit out of it. Everything under heaven can be turned to dollars or pesos" (144).
"We reach people so easily with our sailor suits, with our polished shoes, and our yeswehavenobananas. Would that we tried once in a while to reach them not with puffed rice and naked celluloid dames going with the wrong man in the right bed, but with the Gettysburg address, which next to God's rain would be the greatest blessing to all these so-called republics if we would take the trouble to make the people understand the true meaning of the greatest, finest, and most noble poem any American has produced to this day" (157).
"Hers is a race which has a great future, provided it is not taken in by instalment plans for buying things they can do without" (161).
"Long live the world which is so very funny to live in! What meaning to the living world that little box of decomposing flesh? None. How insignificant is man in the universe, how insignificant in his worries, his wars, his struggles, his ambitions, his trying to outwit his competitors! What is left of the great Caesar? There would be one Rome just the same. Caesar or no Caesar. Perhaps it would not be on the river Tiber, but there would be one Rome. What will be left to morrow of the dozen little Caesars of today who think that they can build up a new world and terrify mankind? What are all the wars and dictatorships and bolshevisms for if finally men always end up by doing not what is best for them, great men or not? So then why not enjoy life, love, merriment? And if some day you cannot enjoy them any longer, die and be forgotten and leave no ghosts behind. That's paradise" (162).
"This treatment of the teacher was caused not so much by a faulty government as by the fact that the resources of the republic are very limited and, as often happens in richer countries also, expenses for education and for schools in general come last. Soldiers always first. Another reason is that, just as elsewhere, politicians take twenty times more from the nation's income than is their legal share" (163).
"And still to this day I cannot laugh at this apparently funny situation. No one laughed. I know today as I knew then why no man laughed. Nobody laughed; neither did I, because I was one of them, and it was my boy who was to be buried just as he was the child of everybody present. No teacher was struggling to come out o f a grave into which he had fallen. I saw only a great brotherly love for his fellow men which had dropped into the grave and was struggling so hard to get out again. I can laugh at a thousand things and situations--even at the brutalities of fascism, which as I see them are but a ridiculous cowardice without limits. But I can never laugh at love shown by men for those of their fellow men in pain and sorrow. This love I witnessed was coming straight from the heart; it was honest and true as only love can be for which no one expects thanks because every one of us gathered here, not excluding the teacher had lost a beloved baby" (173).
July 22, 2024
Βαθμολογία: 9/10
Προ αμνημονεύτων ετών (για την ακρίβεια το 2011), διάβασα το κλασικό γουέστερν "Ο θησαυρός της Σιέρα Μάδρε", που αποτελεί και τη βάση για την ομότιτλη, καταπληκτική ταινία, και χωρίς να θυμάμαι πολλές λεπτομέρειες από την πλοκή, μπορώ εντούτοις να πω ότι ήταν ένα βιβλίο που πολύ μου άρεσε και που σίγουρα στο άμεσο μέλλον θα ξαναδιαβάσω. Το "Το γεφύρι στη ζούγκλα" λοιπόν αποτελεί τη δεύτερη επαφή μου με το έργο του αινιγματικού Μπ. Τράβεν και οφείλω να πω ότι με εντυπωσίασε και ότι με καθήλωσε. Η πλοκή είναι απλή και τα σκηνικά περιορισμένα: Στη διάρκεια μιας γιορτής σε ένα απομονωμένο χωριό στη μεξικάνικη ζούγκλα εξαφανίζεται ένα μικρό αγόρι, ένα ινδιανάκι. Η μαγεία συναγωνίζεται τη λογική στην αγωνιώδη αναζήτηση που ακολουθεί την εξαφάνιση, με έναν "γκρίνγκο" να είναι μάρτυρας του όλου περιστατικού. Γύρω από αυτό το επεισόδιο ο Τράβεν χτίζει μια ιστορία γεμάτη μυστήριο και αγωνία. Αυτά. Απλή πλοκή, περιορισμένα σκηνικά, αλλά διάολε, ο Τράβεν έδωσε ρέστα. Με τις περιγραφές του, με τις σκέψεις του, με κάποιες φιλοσοφικές και υπαρξιακές προεκτάσεις, κατάφερε να αναδείξει την ινδιάνικη ψυχή, αυτά που χωρίζουν ή ενώνουν ή απλώς ξεχωρίζουν τον δυτικό πολιτισμό με άλλους πολισμούς, όπως επίσης κατάφερε να θίξει και κάποια θέματα πολιτικής και θρησκευτικής φύσης, χωρίς να γίνεται φορτικός. Και η γραφή είναι έντονη, χειμαρρώδης, οξυδερκής και συνάμα ευκολοδιάβαστη. Πολύ δυνατό βιβλίο κατά τη γνώμη μου. Και δεν καταλαβαίνω γιατί δεν έχω διαβάσει περισσότερα βιβλία αυτού του μάγκα (έχω όλα όσα έχουν μεταφραστεί στα ελληνικά, που δυστυχώς δεν είναι και πολλά). Πολύ γουστάρω να διαβάζω τέτοια βιβλία.
Προ αμνημονεύτων ετών (για την ακρίβεια το 2011), διάβασα το κλασικό γουέστερν "Ο θησαυρός της Σιέρα Μάδρε", που αποτελεί και τη βάση για την ομότιτλη, καταπληκτική ταινία, και χωρίς να θυμάμαι πολλές λεπτομέρειες από την πλοκή, μπορώ εντούτοις να πω ότι ήταν ένα βιβλίο που πολύ μου άρεσε και που σίγουρα στο άμεσο μέλλον θα ξαναδιαβάσω. Το "Το γεφύρι στη ζούγκλα" λοιπόν αποτελεί τη δεύτερη επαφή μου με το έργο του αινιγματικού Μπ. Τράβεν και οφείλω να πω ότι με εντυπωσίασε και ότι με καθήλωσε. Η πλοκή είναι απλή και τα σκηνικά περιορισμένα: Στη διάρκεια μιας γιορτής σε ένα απομονωμένο χωριό στη μεξικάνικη ζούγκλα εξαφανίζεται ένα μικρό αγόρι, ένα ινδιανάκι. Η μαγεία συναγωνίζεται τη λογική στην αγωνιώδη αναζήτηση που ακολουθεί την εξαφάνιση, με έναν "γκρίνγκο" να είναι μάρτυρας του όλου περιστατικού. Γύρω από αυτό το επεισόδιο ο Τράβεν χτίζει μια ιστορία γεμάτη μυστήριο και αγωνία. Αυτά. Απλή πλοκή, περιορισμένα σκηνικά, αλλά διάολε, ο Τράβεν έδωσε ρέστα. Με τις περιγραφές του, με τις σκέψεις του, με κάποιες φιλοσοφικές και υπαρξιακές προεκτάσεις, κατάφερε να αναδείξει την ινδιάνικη ψυχή, αυτά που χωρίζουν ή ενώνουν ή απλώς ξεχωρίζουν τον δυτικό πολιτισμό με άλλους πολισμούς, όπως επίσης κατάφερε να θίξει και κάποια θέματα πολιτικής και θρησκευτικής φύσης, χωρίς να γίνεται φορτικός. Και η γραφή είναι έντονη, χειμαρρώδης, οξυδερκής και συνάμα ευκολοδιάβαστη. Πολύ δυνατό βιβλίο κατά τη γνώμη μου. Και δεν καταλαβαίνω γιατί δεν έχω διαβάσει περισσότερα βιβλία αυτού του μάγκα (έχω όλα όσα έχουν μεταφραστεί στα ελληνικά, που δυστυχώς δεν είναι και πολλά). Πολύ γουστάρω να διαβάζω τέτοια βιβλία.
August 13, 2017
Es un hermoso libro. Al principio me costó un poco interesarme realmente en la historia, porque narra una historia sin eventos: mexicana, de pobreza, machismo, ignorancia, de gringos y su choque cultural, y su oportunismo, y su vergüenza al vivir algo muy diferente a lo que viven en sus tierras. Como digo, es una historia sin eventos porque, como mexicana, me siento familiarizada con ella, es el tipo de historia que he escuchado toda mi vida, tanto que a veces olvido que es una vida que no conozco en carne propia, olvido que yo también siento vergüenza, y la disfrazo de desinterés.
Entonces, la historia cambia, hay un evento en la historia que me puede mucho, y empiezo a poner interés. Y es ahi cuando veo una gran historia de amor, de magia y de dolor. Sin afán de spoilear, quiero dejar claro que esta no es una historia feliz, si la quieres leer debes prepararte. Pero, boy is it beautiful. Hermosas descripciones, hermosos personajes, y deja plasmado un gran mensaje, si uno está dispuesto a escucharlo.
Lei a B. Traven en la secundaria y lo amé. Amé sus ojos, su forma de ver a México y la atmósfera que crea en sus historias; tan incómoda pero tan bonita, que hace que me sienta orgullosa de ser mexicana. Hace mucho que quería leer este libro y me alegra haberlo hecho por fin.
Long live Ret Marut!
P.D. no se porque está clasificado para niños... Me da curiosidad, pero no es queja.
Entonces, la historia cambia, hay un evento en la historia que me puede mucho, y empiezo a poner interés. Y es ahi cuando veo una gran historia de amor, de magia y de dolor. Sin afán de spoilear, quiero dejar claro que esta no es una historia feliz, si la quieres leer debes prepararte. Pero, boy is it beautiful. Hermosas descripciones, hermosos personajes, y deja plasmado un gran mensaje, si uno está dispuesto a escucharlo.
Lei a B. Traven en la secundaria y lo amé. Amé sus ojos, su forma de ver a México y la atmósfera que crea en sus historias; tan incómoda pero tan bonita, que hace que me sienta orgullosa de ser mexicana. Hace mucho que quería leer este libro y me alegra haberlo hecho por fin.
Long live Ret Marut!
P.D. no se porque está clasificado para niños... Me da curiosidad, pero no es queja.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
February 18, 2023
I thought this would be a straightforward, macho, adventure novel, but I was wrong. It's not that at all...
"...experience has taught me that travelling educates only those who can be educated just as well by roaming around their own country. By walking thirty miles anywhere in one's home state the man who is open minded will see more and learn more than a thousand others will by running around the world. A trip to a Central American jungle to watch how Indians behave near a bridge won't make you see either the jungle or the bridge or the Indians if you believe that the civilization you were born into is the only one that counts. Go and look around with the idea that everything you learned in school or college is wrong." -pg 143.
Aside from referring to Mexicans as "Indians" I would agree with that completely. (this book was written in the 1920's)
Essentially the story of a missing boy and the efforts his family and neighbors make to find him. But also lots of commentary about the dangers of Capitalism, travelling, religion and superstition, etc. Just an excellent read.
"...experience has taught me that travelling educates only those who can be educated just as well by roaming around their own country. By walking thirty miles anywhere in one's home state the man who is open minded will see more and learn more than a thousand others will by running around the world. A trip to a Central American jungle to watch how Indians behave near a bridge won't make you see either the jungle or the bridge or the Indians if you believe that the civilization you were born into is the only one that counts. Go and look around with the idea that everything you learned in school or college is wrong." -pg 143.
Aside from referring to Mexicans as "Indians" I would agree with that completely. (this book was written in the 1920's)
Essentially the story of a missing boy and the efforts his family and neighbors make to find him. But also lots of commentary about the dangers of Capitalism, travelling, religion and superstition, etc. Just an excellent read.
October 17, 2021
I love B. Traven, and I know many consider this his finest novel, but I didn’t like it as much as the others by him I’ve read. I’d rate most of it a solid four stars, but the last few chapters only two point five stars
Mostly, it was quite good, but the middle seemed just a bit long. Also, while his anarchist views always play a role in how characters treat each other and how they fall into corruption - which I love - his politics are usually built into the landscape of his stories.
In this novel’s last few chapters, his politics and cynicism about his modern age are overt. He complains in his narrator’s voice about American popular music, like some 1950s oldster going on about “that trash put out by that punk, Presley.” Traven is also overt about his politics, complaining about civilization’s institutions instead of showing us their flaws, which he always does so well in other books, and in most of this one.
Still, this is definitely worth reading.
Mostly, it was quite good, but the middle seemed just a bit long. Also, while his anarchist views always play a role in how characters treat each other and how they fall into corruption - which I love - his politics are usually built into the landscape of his stories.
In this novel’s last few chapters, his politics and cynicism about his modern age are overt. He complains in his narrator’s voice about American popular music, like some 1950s oldster going on about “that trash put out by that punk, Presley.” Traven is also overt about his politics, complaining about civilization’s institutions instead of showing us their flaws, which he always does so well in other books, and in most of this one.
Still, this is definitely worth reading.
February 26, 2022
This will be a relatively straightforward review. What "The Bridge in the Jungle" is and what it isn't. In the spirit of saving the best for last, I'll start with what it isn't. It isn't "high literature ". It isn't fast paced or sexy. Nor is it violent or magical. If you're still tuned in, I'll share what it is. It is a simple, honest and intimate portrayal of the lives and challenges of a remote village in a Central American jungle. Through the lens of a personal and communal tragedy we see lives as they are. The tale is very focused but also universal. The narrator, though an outsider, tells the story in a humble and respectful manner. The book doesn't judge, it reveals.
The author, as you no doubt know by this point, wrote many novels including "The Treasure of Sierra Madre". This book was also made into an admittedly less well known movie.
The author, as you no doubt know by this point, wrote many novels including "The Treasure of Sierra Madre". This book was also made into an admittedly less well known movie.
November 23, 2017
B. Traven had his eyes fully open to opression from capitalists and slavers. He disappeared into Mexico and never came back. His work makes clear that he rejected the "American Christian way" and heaped scorn on it. Well, I'm with him.
This work tells the story of a little settlement close to the pumphouse belonging to the railroad, where a little boy stumbles on bridge and drowns during the Saturday night fiesta, so that nobody notices he has disappeared for a while. All the inhabitants of the settlement, and the villagers from far around, come to help the mother and father with their grief and the burial. It is told with the pen of an artist, whose eyes saw such beauty in the simplest, and poorest, but richest, of lives.
This work tells the story of a little settlement close to the pumphouse belonging to the railroad, where a little boy stumbles on bridge and drowns during the Saturday night fiesta, so that nobody notices he has disappeared for a while. All the inhabitants of the settlement, and the villagers from far around, come to help the mother and father with their grief and the burial. It is told with the pen of an artist, whose eyes saw such beauty in the simplest, and poorest, but richest, of lives.
June 22, 2020
I had some qualms about reading this book, fearing maybe that I wouldn't be able to appreciate the primitiveness that I thought the jungle sounded like in the synopsis... My choice of words is probably wrong. B. does a great job of poking a hole in the idea of primitiveness... He does lead you into a world that history and civilization have somewhat sidestepped, yet, his indigenous folk are in ways more noble and civil than 99.9% of the folk I've met in the civilized world. I found I was quite happy meeting his friends in the jungle, and not unlike the narrator, a little embarrassed at the baggage I carry as one of the civilized.
July 14, 2021
Después de un rato de haberlo terminado, se me hace increíble la forma en la que Traven te dirige a una historia en particular para mostrarte el universo de quién habitaba en selvas mexicanas. Al empezar el libro, te da una sensación de tratarse de una novela vaquera México-Texas y es tan sutil la forma en la que se adentra en la trama central que te sientes uno de los personajes buscando a uno de los protagonistas de la historia.
Es una historia que parece sencilla pero está muy bien escrita.
Es una historia que parece sencilla pero está muy bien escrita.
May 25, 2020
4.5
Maybe a little tension-less with such a simple story (you won’t find the twists and turns of something like The Treasure of the Sierra Madre), but it more than makes up for that with poetry. The last few chapters are especially wonderful. B. Traven as a person seems to emerge out of the story near the end, remaining enigmatic but full of humanity.
Maybe a little tension-less with such a simple story (you won’t find the twists and turns of something like The Treasure of the Sierra Madre), but it more than makes up for that with poetry. The last few chapters are especially wonderful. B. Traven as a person seems to emerge out of the story near the end, remaining enigmatic but full of humanity.
June 13, 2018
A simply superb book. Classic Traven and one of his best. A book about life, faith, humanity, culture and connection set around a tragedy amongst the poor in the jungle.
October 8, 2019
Un libro enternecedor que demuestra lo frágiles que somos los seres humanos ante la muerte y cómo está puede afectar la vida de terceros.
July 18, 2020
Convincing story set in a Mexico about a little boy who disappears during a dance party in a very poor region, and the reaction of the community. A lesson on humanity vs commercialism.
April 27, 2021
Sincretismo dramático a lo largo de una noche.
Genial, como todo B. Traven.
Genial, como todo B. Traven.
January 25, 2023
There are some images, scenes in this book that will haunt me for a long time.
September 12, 2023
if you like this review, i now have website: www.michaelkamakana.com
171015: this is definitely my favourite b traven- sort of a discovery for me this year, though it is not as if he is unknown, such as in germany, but as with Ross Macdonald five years ago, Stefan Zweig four years ago, JMG Le Clézio two years ago, Leighton Gage last year, it was only each current year i had read much of him...
as far as five rating, accurate if you understand this is immediate response, only read once, and somewhat affected by other works recently read. how much of this is the author's varied, secretive, bio- it pleases me to think he is german, writing of mexico, of yankee imperialism, speaking for the poor peasantry and others around the mexican revolution. so he does not really belong to anyone. but this is the fifth book of his read, and i think his bio is no longer a big effect...
easy to read, short, sharp, sometimes gently satiric, sometimes rending the heart. and like some other works read of his, this is first-person narrative. there is no extensive plot, not much political, not much religious, aspects to this minimal and simple story about that universal sadness of loss of a child. and this is told directly, no dialect, no imposed narrative pattern, without claims to great, new, traditional, or any elaborate, artistry. i was trying to read faulkner just before, and if there is more an opposite sort of work, i do not know it. so the five is measured against that one...
experiencing this story, the simplicity, material, physical description- this makes the few moments of psychological description, the story of how deep will they drill those yankees, the dance that does not quite come off, the high status a few skirts or a separate kitchen creates, the mother descending from worry to terror to grief, all become more effective. there is a dream sequence exactly like a dream, all the more powerful, with no complicated symbolism, no exaggerated force, no more magic than what they think magic...
there is no more real, tragic, emotional moment than the schoolteacher giving his sort of howling eulogy, no moment i have ever read before...
171015: this is definitely my favourite b traven- sort of a discovery for me this year, though it is not as if he is unknown, such as in germany, but as with Ross Macdonald five years ago, Stefan Zweig four years ago, JMG Le Clézio two years ago, Leighton Gage last year, it was only each current year i had read much of him...
as far as five rating, accurate if you understand this is immediate response, only read once, and somewhat affected by other works recently read. how much of this is the author's varied, secretive, bio- it pleases me to think he is german, writing of mexico, of yankee imperialism, speaking for the poor peasantry and others around the mexican revolution. so he does not really belong to anyone. but this is the fifth book of his read, and i think his bio is no longer a big effect...
easy to read, short, sharp, sometimes gently satiric, sometimes rending the heart. and like some other works read of his, this is first-person narrative. there is no extensive plot, not much political, not much religious, aspects to this minimal and simple story about that universal sadness of loss of a child. and this is told directly, no dialect, no imposed narrative pattern, without claims to great, new, traditional, or any elaborate, artistry. i was trying to read faulkner just before, and if there is more an opposite sort of work, i do not know it. so the five is measured against that one...
experiencing this story, the simplicity, material, physical description- this makes the few moments of psychological description, the story of how deep will they drill those yankees, the dance that does not quite come off, the high status a few skirts or a separate kitchen creates, the mother descending from worry to terror to grief, all become more effective. there is a dream sequence exactly like a dream, all the more powerful, with no complicated symbolism, no exaggerated force, no more magic than what they think magic...
there is no more real, tragic, emotional moment than the schoolteacher giving his sort of howling eulogy, no moment i have ever read before...
February 7, 2017
What a journey!
Definitely a hard read for me, at least emotionally. The story takes place in a small town next to a river where a bridge lets machinery through for the search of petroleum. The town is ready to have a dance on a weekend and they have ordered musicians to come and play. However, the musicians don't arrive by the time they were supposed to but the townspeople are trying to have a good time anyways. Then, a boy goes missing and the search for the boy becomes the new center for their reunion.
It's a story that tells us about the love mothers have for their children, the role men play in that love, how religion plays in times of grief, and most importantly, the sense of community these indigenous towns have.
It's a great read but one that I did have to take a bit slowly. I highly recommend it!
Definitely a hard read for me, at least emotionally. The story takes place in a small town next to a river where a bridge lets machinery through for the search of petroleum. The town is ready to have a dance on a weekend and they have ordered musicians to come and play. However, the musicians don't arrive by the time they were supposed to but the townspeople are trying to have a good time anyways. Then, a boy goes missing and the search for the boy becomes the new center for their reunion.
It's a story that tells us about the love mothers have for their children, the role men play in that love, how religion plays in times of grief, and most importantly, the sense of community these indigenous towns have.
It's a great read but one that I did have to take a bit slowly. I highly recommend it!
December 31, 2018
This is a perfect starting point for anyone interested in literature about Mexico or specifically curious about the enigmatic B. Traven. Having read a half dozen of his books, I still can't quite put my finger on the essence of why I find them so intriguing. What I do know is that through Traven's lens I am consistently transported to life in pre-revolution, rural Mexico with all its bittersweet innocence and sorrow. Traven's writing evokes wrenching investigation of exploitation and the human condition in the way of Upton Sinclair's 'The Jungle' or Steinbeck's 'Tortilla Flat', 'Grapes of Wrath', or others. It's that good!
July 13, 2020
Reading this book can be considered mystical, we should take into account that life as it is described in this book hasn't changed in remote towns of Mexico. There is no perceived obligation in showing love, respect and understanding, it all comes from the heart as it should be and that is the message that is being conveyed here. The whole plot revolves around the disappearance of a boy in a small town that is located next to a river, if you have read other works from Traven, this is a must.
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