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Nazi Literature in the Americas
Featuring several mass-murdering authors, two fraternal writers at the head of a football-hooligan ring and a poet who crafts his lines in the air with sky writing, Roberto Bolaño's Nazi Literature in the Americas details the lives of a rich cast of characters from one of the most extraordinary imaginations in world literature.
Written with sharp wit and virtuosic flair, this encyclopaedic group of fictional pan-American authors is the terrifyingly humorous and remarkably inventive masterpiece which made Bolaño famous throughout the Spanish-speaking world.
Written with sharp wit and virtuosic flair, this encyclopaedic group of fictional pan-American authors is the terrifyingly humorous and remarkably inventive masterpiece which made Bolaño famous throughout the Spanish-speaking world.
260 pages, Paperback
First published February 13, 1996
295 people are currently reading
8442 people want to read
About the author
Roberto Bolaño
139 books6,821 followersFor most of his early adulthood, Bolaño was a vagabond, living at one time or another in Chile, Mexico, El Salvador, France and Spain. Bolaño moved to Europe in 1977, and finally made his way to Spain, where he married and settled on the Mediterranean coast near Barcelona, working as a dishwasher, a campground custodian, bellhop and garbage collector — working during the day and writing at night.
He continued with his poetry, before shifting to fiction in his early forties. In an interview Bolaño stated that he made this decision because he felt responsible for the future financial well-being of his family, which he knew he could never secure from the earnings of a poet. This was confirmed by Jorge Herralde, who explained that Bolaño "abandoned his parsimonious beatnik existence" because the birth of his son in 1990 made him "decide that he was responsible for his family's future and that it would be easier to earn a living by writing fiction." However, he continued to think of himself primarily as a poet, and a collection of his verse, spanning 20 years, was published in 2000 under the title The Romantic Dogs.
Regarding his native country Chile, which he visited just once after going into voluntary exile, Bolaño had conflicted feelings. He was notorious in Chile for his fierce attacks on Isabel Allende and other members of the literary establishment.
In 2003, after a long period of declining health, Bolaño passed away. Bolaño was survived by his Spanish wife and their two children, whom he once called "my only motherland."
Although deep down he always felt like a poet, his reputation ultimately rests on his novels, novellas and short story collections. Although Bolaño espoused the lifestyle of a bohemian poet and literary enfant terrible for all his adult life, he only began to produce substantial works of fiction in the 1990s. He almost immediately became a highly regarded figure in Spanish and Latin American letters.
In rapid succession, he published a series of critically acclaimed works, the most important of which are the novel Los detectives salvajes (The Savage Detectives), the novella Nocturno de Chile (By Night In Chile), and, posthumously, the novel 2666. His two collections of short stories Llamadas telefónicas and Putas asesinas were awarded literary prizes.
In 2009 a number of unpublished novels were discovered among the author's papers.
He continued with his poetry, before shifting to fiction in his early forties. In an interview Bolaño stated that he made this decision because he felt responsible for the future financial well-being of his family, which he knew he could never secure from the earnings of a poet. This was confirmed by Jorge Herralde, who explained that Bolaño "abandoned his parsimonious beatnik existence" because the birth of his son in 1990 made him "decide that he was responsible for his family's future and that it would be easier to earn a living by writing fiction." However, he continued to think of himself primarily as a poet, and a collection of his verse, spanning 20 years, was published in 2000 under the title The Romantic Dogs.
Regarding his native country Chile, which he visited just once after going into voluntary exile, Bolaño had conflicted feelings. He was notorious in Chile for his fierce attacks on Isabel Allende and other members of the literary establishment.
In 2003, after a long period of declining health, Bolaño passed away. Bolaño was survived by his Spanish wife and their two children, whom he once called "my only motherland."
Although deep down he always felt like a poet, his reputation ultimately rests on his novels, novellas and short story collections. Although Bolaño espoused the lifestyle of a bohemian poet and literary enfant terrible for all his adult life, he only began to produce substantial works of fiction in the 1990s. He almost immediately became a highly regarded figure in Spanish and Latin American letters.
In rapid succession, he published a series of critically acclaimed works, the most important of which are the novel Los detectives salvajes (The Savage Detectives), the novella Nocturno de Chile (By Night In Chile), and, posthumously, the novel 2666. His two collections of short stories Llamadas telefónicas and Putas asesinas were awarded literary prizes.
In 2009 a number of unpublished novels were discovered among the author's papers.
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January 7, 2025
‘A novel about order and disorder, justice and injustice, God and the Void.’
In the final narrative of Roberto Bolaño’s Nazi Literature in the Americas—a literary joke that is executed with such deadpan precision it becomes a transcendent work of brilliance—we read the life story of Ramírez Hoffman, member of the Chilean Air Force, poet and cold-blooded murderer of the Pinochet regime. Later expanded into the novella, Distant Star, this section includes a scene where Hoffman presents a private art exhibit consisting of countless photos of the women he tortured and murdered. It is clearly an act of evil and an indication that art has moral boundaries not to be crossed lest you become evil. However, if one were to find these photos and display the same exhibit in, say, a Human Rights museum, as a overwhelming warning against evil, would the framing remove the art from proximity of being evil and instead turn the same elements into an aesthetic battering ram against evil? This is precisely what Bolaño has done with Nazi Literature in the Americas, an encyclopedia chronicling the lives and works of fascist artists and the literary outlets that gave them a platform. The joke is, however, that none of them are real yet Bolaño never breaks character and presents the entire book in deadpan seriousness as if it were a highly researched academic work. While 20 pages in it may seem like beating a dead horse of a joke, but as life upon life pile up in this compilation his execution and framing break through the doors of mere playfulness into artistic genius and genuine literary might.
Owing obvious influences in Jorge Luis Borges and Juan Rodolfo Wilcock—Bolaño openly admits in an interview with Spanish literary journal Turia to being influenced by A Universal History of Iniquity and The Temple of Iconoclasts—Nazi Literature is a conjuring of literary oddities, madmen and monsters (and one character that is referential to Fernando Pessoa through the use of many heteronyms) that reveal the dark underbelly of an artform that aims to shape public opinion and convey ideologies. ‘When I’m talking about Nazi writers in the Americas,’ Bolaño says in The Last Interview and Other Conversations, ‘in reality I’m talking about the world, sometimes heroic but much more often despicable, of literature in general.’ While neither celebrating or openly mocking these writers (though the occasionally humor in this impressively consistent tongue-in-cheek novel allows you to assume the latter), Bolaño reminds us that evil lurks in every corner and just because an author can write a good story doesn’t mean their ideology or personhood is worth enabling.
This book is an excellent microcosm of the Bolaño cannon as a whole, being a hotbed of indicators to his penchant towards in-literary-universe expansion, metarepresentation of novels within novels, and exploration of themes such as the pull of proximity to power and the shadowy evils residing in human nature. Here you will find the names of fake novels and literary journals that will show up in other Bolaño novels as well as characters that make appearances elsewhere, such as the Romanian General Eugenio Entruscu who appears here in the Epilogue for Monsters catalogue of secondary figures as well as crosses paths with Benno von Archimboldi in 2666, the PI Romero who appears in The Savage Detectives and Distant Star along with, most notably, Ramírez Hoffman.
Hoffman appears in Distant Star under the name Alberto Ruiz-Tagle/Wieder, which is a larger aspect of Bolaño’s expansion technique that his English translator, Chris Andrews discusses at length in his book Roberto Bolaño's Fiction: An Expanding Universe. The name change on one hand represents how Hoffman/Ruiz-Tagle was an enigmatic character (‘in fact, he had always been an absent figure’ -- Distant Star) going under many aliases (his section in Nazi Literature is narrated by Bolaño himself whereas in Distant Star it is filtered through the memories of Arturo B, who, as the authors in-novels alter-ego interacting with the author-himself, forms sort of a surreal meta extravaganza) but also how Bolaño tends to blur the lines of his own fiction as a way of exploding and expanding it. This is similarly done in the story Prefiguration of Lalo Cura in The Return, which gives an alternate backstory to the one presented of Lalo Cura in 2666 or how the story of Bolaño’s own father differs significantly in Cowboy Graves: Three Novellas from anything else he ever wrote about him (usually a boxer). While Bolaño has claimed in interviews and essays that all of his work exists in a singular literary universe, evidence shows this statement is facetious but likely as a further element to his unique style of self-mythologizing and mythmaking that is so central to his work. There is a very distinct Bolaño flair to his self-referential works that separate it from autofiction or purely fictional narratives.
The sheer volume of fictional books and poems that appear in this novel are fascinating and certainly indicative of his influence in Borges. There is a sort of double-distancing, as Andrews puts it, in the way that these stories are surveyed much in the way literary joker Borges would essentially write reviews of fake novels, ‘accessible only through the filter of a summary.’ Bolaño is able to convey the idea of what registers as a fully-fledged novel through a brief synopsis that discards any need for particulars, assuring you the story works as intended. Borges himself joked about why write a novel when you can just make the same point in a single sentence about a novel that doesn’t even need to exist, or as he writes in The Garden of Forking Paths ‘the better way to go about it is to pretend that those books already exist, and offer a summary, a commentary on them.’ These sorts of short assessments of fake novels appear in many of his works, often a brief aside about a sci-fi novel a character has written to further investigate some moral or existential perspective on life.
What is interesting is that many of the characters contained in this volume don’t appear to be very successful. These episodic lives often end in tragedy and a few short books that don’t receive many sales. Yet, by collecting them, it appears that their life left an impact on the movement. This is particularly fascinating as Bolaño rarely tells you if the books they wrote were good or not, but usually what the critics thought or if public opinion drove up sales, alluding to the idea that our established literary canons are one of popularity and not necessarily quality. A frequent theme in his work is the duality of literature as if it were the most important and life-affirming aspect to be found in life while also lampooning it as overwrought and unimportant. He frequently pokes fun at canonization as a temporary privilege, such as the prophecy in Amulet references authors such as Marcel Proust disappearing from public knowledge in the near future. Whether the lives collected here matter or not is irrelevant.
I enjoyed buddy reading this book with Kenny, and it is certainly a masterful part of the Bolaño canon. He reminds us that evil is everywhere, even in art, and shows characters that are very human yet double as an example of evil as a force of nature (particularly Hoffman). The fictional characters interact with several real figures and works, which boosts the impression that this could be real while also being an avenue for the author to name-drop all his favorites and show off his enviable grasp of world literature. I have yet to read anything, even his posthumously published scene sketches, that have not left an impact on me or charmed me. Certainly one of my favorite authors and this book is such a joy because you can feel his excitement to emulate and surpass his own literary heroes in creating this work. Like Hoffman’s photographs, this book collects moments and members of evil and displays them to remind us what vileness may lurk in any corner.
4/5
In the final narrative of Roberto Bolaño’s Nazi Literature in the Americas—a literary joke that is executed with such deadpan precision it becomes a transcendent work of brilliance—we read the life story of Ramírez Hoffman, member of the Chilean Air Force, poet and cold-blooded murderer of the Pinochet regime. Later expanded into the novella, Distant Star, this section includes a scene where Hoffman presents a private art exhibit consisting of countless photos of the women he tortured and murdered. It is clearly an act of evil and an indication that art has moral boundaries not to be crossed lest you become evil. However, if one were to find these photos and display the same exhibit in, say, a Human Rights museum, as a overwhelming warning against evil, would the framing remove the art from proximity of being evil and instead turn the same elements into an aesthetic battering ram against evil? This is precisely what Bolaño has done with Nazi Literature in the Americas, an encyclopedia chronicling the lives and works of fascist artists and the literary outlets that gave them a platform. The joke is, however, that none of them are real yet Bolaño never breaks character and presents the entire book in deadpan seriousness as if it were a highly researched academic work. While 20 pages in it may seem like beating a dead horse of a joke, but as life upon life pile up in this compilation his execution and framing break through the doors of mere playfulness into artistic genius and genuine literary might.
Owing obvious influences in Jorge Luis Borges and Juan Rodolfo Wilcock—Bolaño openly admits in an interview with Spanish literary journal Turia to being influenced by A Universal History of Iniquity and The Temple of Iconoclasts—Nazi Literature is a conjuring of literary oddities, madmen and monsters (and one character that is referential to Fernando Pessoa through the use of many heteronyms) that reveal the dark underbelly of an artform that aims to shape public opinion and convey ideologies. ‘When I’m talking about Nazi writers in the Americas,’ Bolaño says in The Last Interview and Other Conversations, ‘in reality I’m talking about the world, sometimes heroic but much more often despicable, of literature in general.’ While neither celebrating or openly mocking these writers (though the occasionally humor in this impressively consistent tongue-in-cheek novel allows you to assume the latter), Bolaño reminds us that evil lurks in every corner and just because an author can write a good story doesn’t mean their ideology or personhood is worth enabling.
This book is an excellent microcosm of the Bolaño cannon as a whole, being a hotbed of indicators to his penchant towards in-literary-universe expansion, metarepresentation of novels within novels, and exploration of themes such as the pull of proximity to power and the shadowy evils residing in human nature. Here you will find the names of fake novels and literary journals that will show up in other Bolaño novels as well as characters that make appearances elsewhere, such as the Romanian General Eugenio Entruscu who appears here in the Epilogue for Monsters catalogue of secondary figures as well as crosses paths with Benno von Archimboldi in 2666, the PI Romero who appears in The Savage Detectives and Distant Star along with, most notably, Ramírez Hoffman.
Hoffman appears in Distant Star under the name Alberto Ruiz-Tagle/Wieder, which is a larger aspect of Bolaño’s expansion technique that his English translator, Chris Andrews discusses at length in his book Roberto Bolaño's Fiction: An Expanding Universe. The name change on one hand represents how Hoffman/Ruiz-Tagle was an enigmatic character (‘in fact, he had always been an absent figure’ -- Distant Star) going under many aliases (his section in Nazi Literature is narrated by Bolaño himself whereas in Distant Star it is filtered through the memories of Arturo B, who, as the authors in-novels alter-ego interacting with the author-himself, forms sort of a surreal meta extravaganza) but also how Bolaño tends to blur the lines of his own fiction as a way of exploding and expanding it. This is similarly done in the story Prefiguration of Lalo Cura in The Return, which gives an alternate backstory to the one presented of Lalo Cura in 2666 or how the story of Bolaño’s own father differs significantly in Cowboy Graves: Three Novellas from anything else he ever wrote about him (usually a boxer). While Bolaño has claimed in interviews and essays that all of his work exists in a singular literary universe, evidence shows this statement is facetious but likely as a further element to his unique style of self-mythologizing and mythmaking that is so central to his work. There is a very distinct Bolaño flair to his self-referential works that separate it from autofiction or purely fictional narratives.
The sheer volume of fictional books and poems that appear in this novel are fascinating and certainly indicative of his influence in Borges. There is a sort of double-distancing, as Andrews puts it, in the way that these stories are surveyed much in the way literary joker Borges would essentially write reviews of fake novels, ‘accessible only through the filter of a summary.’ Bolaño is able to convey the idea of what registers as a fully-fledged novel through a brief synopsis that discards any need for particulars, assuring you the story works as intended. Borges himself joked about why write a novel when you can just make the same point in a single sentence about a novel that doesn’t even need to exist, or as he writes in The Garden of Forking Paths ‘the better way to go about it is to pretend that those books already exist, and offer a summary, a commentary on them.’ These sorts of short assessments of fake novels appear in many of his works, often a brief aside about a sci-fi novel a character has written to further investigate some moral or existential perspective on life.
What is interesting is that many of the characters contained in this volume don’t appear to be very successful. These episodic lives often end in tragedy and a few short books that don’t receive many sales. Yet, by collecting them, it appears that their life left an impact on the movement. This is particularly fascinating as Bolaño rarely tells you if the books they wrote were good or not, but usually what the critics thought or if public opinion drove up sales, alluding to the idea that our established literary canons are one of popularity and not necessarily quality. A frequent theme in his work is the duality of literature as if it were the most important and life-affirming aspect to be found in life while also lampooning it as overwrought and unimportant. He frequently pokes fun at canonization as a temporary privilege, such as the prophecy in Amulet references authors such as Marcel Proust disappearing from public knowledge in the near future. Whether the lives collected here matter or not is irrelevant.
I enjoyed buddy reading this book with Kenny, and it is certainly a masterful part of the Bolaño canon. He reminds us that evil is everywhere, even in art, and shows characters that are very human yet double as an example of evil as a force of nature (particularly Hoffman). The fictional characters interact with several real figures and works, which boosts the impression that this could be real while also being an avenue for the author to name-drop all his favorites and show off his enviable grasp of world literature. I have yet to read anything, even his posthumously published scene sketches, that have not left an impact on me or charmed me. Certainly one of my favorite authors and this book is such a joy because you can feel his excitement to emulate and surpass his own literary heroes in creating this work. Like Hoffman’s photographs, this book collects moments and members of evil and displays them to remind us what vileness may lurk in any corner.
4/5
December 17, 2025
How does the question of evil arise? By retracing the lives and works of around thirty 20th-century fictional authors who were fascinated by fascism or Nazism, this anthology, infamous yet delectable in its form, finds a unique way to pose this question.
"Nazi Literature in America" is a fascinating and dizzying book, characterized by the profusion of details in its narrative, a biography of the authors, and their classification by categories. The details provided in correspondence, notes, and dedications support the lists of criticisms and insults with which the authors were showered, as well as the information on the structure of the poems, the speculations on the authors' intentions, and the links between the fictitious authors, among other aspects.
"Among the qualifiers used by his critics are the following: paleonazi, crazy, a standard-bearer of the bourgeoisie, puppet of capitalism, agent of the CIA, bad poets with cretinizing intentions, plagiarist of Euguren, plagiarist of Salazar Bondy, plagiarist of St -John Perse [...], a henchman of the cesspools, junk prophet, rapist of the Spanish language, versifier with satanic intentions, a product of provincial education, people who show wealth to get attention, hallucinated mestizo, etc."
That's a dizzying book, marked by its double bottom, when it tells anecdotes invented in lives that are just as much, or when Bolaño evokes manuscripts that never existed, burned by their author for lack of a publisher.
"About his life in Havana after his release from prison, an infinite number of anecdotes are told, mostly invented. It is said that he was a police informer, that he wrote speeches and harangues for a famous politician of the regime, that he founded a secret sect of fascist poets and assassins, that he visited all the writers, painters, musicians by asking them to intercede for him with the authorities. "
This work is fascinating, finally, by the irony and the leniency with which the authors are treated here ("its infinite enthusiasm compensates its accidental lack of verbal rigour"), never to lose sight of the fact that "real" literature is itself, the vehicle of barbarism.
"Nazi Literature in America" is a fascinating and dizzying book, characterized by the profusion of details in its narrative, a biography of the authors, and their classification by categories. The details provided in correspondence, notes, and dedications support the lists of criticisms and insults with which the authors were showered, as well as the information on the structure of the poems, the speculations on the authors' intentions, and the links between the fictitious authors, among other aspects.
"Among the qualifiers used by his critics are the following: paleonazi, crazy, a standard-bearer of the bourgeoisie, puppet of capitalism, agent of the CIA, bad poets with cretinizing intentions, plagiarist of Euguren, plagiarist of Salazar Bondy, plagiarist of St -John Perse [...], a henchman of the cesspools, junk prophet, rapist of the Spanish language, versifier with satanic intentions, a product of provincial education, people who show wealth to get attention, hallucinated mestizo, etc."
That's a dizzying book, marked by its double bottom, when it tells anecdotes invented in lives that are just as much, or when Bolaño evokes manuscripts that never existed, burned by their author for lack of a publisher.
"About his life in Havana after his release from prison, an infinite number of anecdotes are told, mostly invented. It is said that he was a police informer, that he wrote speeches and harangues for a famous politician of the regime, that he founded a secret sect of fascist poets and assassins, that he visited all the writers, painters, musicians by asking them to intercede for him with the authorities. "
This work is fascinating, finally, by the irony and the leniency with which the authors are treated here ("its infinite enthusiasm compensates its accidental lack of verbal rigour"), never to lose sight of the fact that "real" literature is itself, the vehicle of barbarism.
April 23, 2020
The artists, writers, poets which inhabit this lexicon-type novel breathe the air of history, and all lead individual destinies never devoid of woe. The pursuit of art is presented warts-&-all, & is as realistic of art as it is about the appreciation of art.
"Nazi Literature in the Americas" is one prolonged lament. (As if anything R. Bolano ever wrote wasn't one.) The uniqueness of the novel is that it has no plot but has instead the overwhelming urge to collect writers as economically, poignantly, & as fanatically as one would with baseball player cards.
To say this writer appreciates other writers would be a gross understatement. He creates entire mythologies, constructs entire literary movements... which never even occurred! The apocryphal is superbly mixed in with the real. The feeling of being left out, of uncovering only Iceberg tips, in short... of the deprivation of intellect & emotion... this is what this phenomenal novel's really about.
"Nazi Literature in the Americas" is one prolonged lament. (As if anything R. Bolano ever wrote wasn't one.) The uniqueness of the novel is that it has no plot but has instead the overwhelming urge to collect writers as economically, poignantly, & as fanatically as one would with baseball player cards.
To say this writer appreciates other writers would be a gross understatement. He creates entire mythologies, constructs entire literary movements... which never even occurred! The apocryphal is superbly mixed in with the real. The feeling of being left out, of uncovering only Iceberg tips, in short... of the deprivation of intellect & emotion... this is what this phenomenal novel's really about.
May 3, 2016
Somewhere in the midst of this book, Bolaño spells out in explicit words what I suspected to be the undercurrents from the word go:
My first Bolaño could not have been a better book. 30 essays written as biographies of fictitious authors, who lived under the tremulous skies of Nazism and dabbled in poetry and science fiction, magical realism and political sagas, span the length and breadth of the written word; presenting an inclusive, although explosive, picture of Bolaño’s thoughts that bodes well with establishing acquaintance with his ideologies too, perhaps.
The fascist authors, who are mostly Argentine or American languishing under pallidity and the arcane, display a wide array of literary faith: perseverance and manipulation, suppression and connivance, displacement and return, satire and humor; they push originality and also fall prey to plagiarism, they spark the rebel and turn victim too. The aspect, however, that secured my curiosity the tightest was the masterful amalgamation of real places, events and people into these imaginary lives. While there is generous reference to Trotskyism, Falangism, Peronism and the likes, there are veiled questions on the theocratic and Episcopalian diktats. There is generous mention of Borges and Cortázar who are known to have influenced Bolaño in many inspirational ways.
Of course, the ingenuity of story-telling that had to befall Bolaño later in his writing career was visible in many of these essays, three of which, I took in with a chortle and awed smirk: in one work, the chapters, so begin, that joining the first letter of each chapter spell HITLER!; in another, a poem is written as a series of maps which upon further deciphering, reveal verses that point to their placement and use and in the last, a book is called Geometry that deploys variations like the barbed-wire fence, to join unrelated verses and provoke meaning out of the criss-cross.
Oh there were far too many captivating things in this book and it turned out to be indeed a spectacle close to a chariot ride: slow and heavy at the beginning, loading the substantial thoughts one after another, gingerly finding foothold to attain stability, rolling the bearings forward and backward, hoisting the protagonists while narrating their significance to the ride, hopping cautiously for the initial furlongs and then, gaining speed with a wicked kick and speeding away with the confidence of a wise, chuckling driver.
Let me sign off with one of the many flabbergasting paragraphs highlighting Bolaño’s boundless imagination that left my jaw drop with sheer pleasure:
….a novel about order and disorder, justice and injustice, God and the Void.So there I was - witnessing a swashbuckling cavalcade of ideas, overflowing from the chariot of Bolaño’s mind; irreducible owing to their weight, hypnotic owing to their flight.
My first Bolaño could not have been a better book. 30 essays written as biographies of fictitious authors, who lived under the tremulous skies of Nazism and dabbled in poetry and science fiction, magical realism and political sagas, span the length and breadth of the written word; presenting an inclusive, although explosive, picture of Bolaño’s thoughts that bodes well with establishing acquaintance with his ideologies too, perhaps.
The fascist authors, who are mostly Argentine or American languishing under pallidity and the arcane, display a wide array of literary faith: perseverance and manipulation, suppression and connivance, displacement and return, satire and humor; they push originality and also fall prey to plagiarism, they spark the rebel and turn victim too. The aspect, however, that secured my curiosity the tightest was the masterful amalgamation of real places, events and people into these imaginary lives. While there is generous reference to Trotskyism, Falangism, Peronism and the likes, there are veiled questions on the theocratic and Episcopalian diktats. There is generous mention of Borges and Cortázar who are known to have influenced Bolaño in many inspirational ways.
Of course, the ingenuity of story-telling that had to befall Bolaño later in his writing career was visible in many of these essays, three of which, I took in with a chortle and awed smirk: in one work, the chapters, so begin, that joining the first letter of each chapter spell HITLER!; in another, a poem is written as a series of maps which upon further deciphering, reveal verses that point to their placement and use and in the last, a book is called Geometry that deploys variations like the barbed-wire fence, to join unrelated verses and provoke meaning out of the criss-cross.
Oh there were far too many captivating things in this book and it turned out to be indeed a spectacle close to a chariot ride: slow and heavy at the beginning, loading the substantial thoughts one after another, gingerly finding foothold to attain stability, rolling the bearings forward and backward, hoisting the protagonists while narrating their significance to the ride, hopping cautiously for the initial furlongs and then, gaining speed with a wicked kick and speeding away with the confidence of a wise, chuckling driver.
Let me sign off with one of the many flabbergasting paragraphs highlighting Bolaño’s boundless imagination that left my jaw drop with sheer pleasure:
..the action unfolds in a distorted present where nothing is as it seems, or in a distant future full of abandoned, ruined cities, and ominously silent landscapes, similar in many respects to those of the Midwest. His plots abound in providential heroes and mad scientists; hidden clans and tribes which at the ordained time must emerge and do battle with other hidden tribes; secret societies of men in black who meet at isolated ranches on the prairie; private detectives who must search for people lost on other planets; children stolen and raised by inferior races so that, having reached adulthood, they may take control of the tribe and lead it to immolation; unseen animals with insatiable appetites; mutant plants; invisible planets that suddenly become visible; teenage girls offered as human sacrifices; cities of ice with a single inhabitant; cowboys visited by angels; mass migrations destroying everything in their path; underground labyrinths swarming with warrior-monks; plots to assassinate the president of the United States; spaceships fleeing an earth in flames to colonize Jupiter; societies of telepathic killers; children growing up all alone in dark, cold yards.
August 4, 2020
This is a real oddity, very clever, ironic and satirical, hardly a novel; more an encyclopedia. Basically it is a list of fascist and ultra right wing authors of the Americas. Each one has a brief biography and analysis of their works, with their dates (some don't pass away until the 2020s). They are generally self deluded, often vicious, mostly mediocre and Bolano sends them all up remorselessly.
Their fictional biographies sometimes overlap with real life; Ginsberg, Octavio Paz and Borges pop up, as does Bolano himself in a Chilean prison.
The general madness, poetic soccer hooligans, struggling publishing houses and outright Nazis can get a little predictable, but Bolano himself explained he was talking as much about the left as the right and indeed about literature. On the whole it's a tour de force and very well written. It all hangs together; there are interrelations between the characters and Bolano pulls it off splendidly.Underneath is a very sharp analysis of fascism and its modes of thought and doctrines, laid bare by Bolano; making them seem as ridiculous as they are. Well worth the effort.
Their fictional biographies sometimes overlap with real life; Ginsberg, Octavio Paz and Borges pop up, as does Bolano himself in a Chilean prison.
The general madness, poetic soccer hooligans, struggling publishing houses and outright Nazis can get a little predictable, but Bolano himself explained he was talking as much about the left as the right and indeed about literature. On the whole it's a tour de force and very well written. It all hangs together; there are interrelations between the characters and Bolano pulls it off splendidly.Underneath is a very sharp analysis of fascism and its modes of thought and doctrines, laid bare by Bolano; making them seem as ridiculous as they are. Well worth the effort.
November 11, 2021
I like Latin American literature and I had seen Chilean writer Roberto Bolaño’s name before, but I have to admit, it was the title that drew me in to find out what was going on.
Nazi Literature in the Americas? Huh, OK, I’m interested. Reading the description, I learn that this is set up like a bibliography of writers and poets living in South, Central and North America that have decidedly right wing or even outright fascist leanings, written with dark humor and personality. And it’s a lean and hungry 227 pages, so yes this is an investment in time I am willing to spend.
And glad I am that I did.
Bolaño has crafted just as advertised, a running catalogue of writers born as early as the late 1800s and who died as late as 2029 (?) born from Canada to Argentina and who have travelled the world over but all with one theme – their writing is about far right politics, or at least they are inspired by Nazi and / or fascist agendas. Each biographical entry is told like a short story giving some detail to when and where they were born, where and when they published their work, a description of their work and when where and how they died. If you didn’t know better, you may actually believe that this is a real list of such writers and poets.
Organized into sections, Bolaño lists poets, short story writers, science fiction writers, history and war games aficionados and even those whose meager offerings fit into the category of manifestos. Many allowed their inspirations to lead them into right wing politics or the military or even paramilitary groups. There are clandestine organizations, underground magazines and surreptitious publishers. The author inserts his fictional writers into real places and cities and history, creating for us a world building as close to our own as possible while still maintaining the alternate reality setting and theme.
The strength and lasting impression of this encyclopedia of illusory fascist writing is Bolaño’s voice and his razor wit and deft satire. Most thought-provoking is the longest and most sinister entry, a writer involved in torture and serial killings, a shadowy figure but with a cult like following, where Bolaño himself appears in first person narration.
Thought provoking, darkly comical, but sometimes also disconcerting and creepy, Bolaño has me intrigued and I’ll be reading more from him.
Nazi Literature in the Americas? Huh, OK, I’m interested. Reading the description, I learn that this is set up like a bibliography of writers and poets living in South, Central and North America that have decidedly right wing or even outright fascist leanings, written with dark humor and personality. And it’s a lean and hungry 227 pages, so yes this is an investment in time I am willing to spend.
And glad I am that I did.
Bolaño has crafted just as advertised, a running catalogue of writers born as early as the late 1800s and who died as late as 2029 (?) born from Canada to Argentina and who have travelled the world over but all with one theme – their writing is about far right politics, or at least they are inspired by Nazi and / or fascist agendas. Each biographical entry is told like a short story giving some detail to when and where they were born, where and when they published their work, a description of their work and when where and how they died. If you didn’t know better, you may actually believe that this is a real list of such writers and poets.
Organized into sections, Bolaño lists poets, short story writers, science fiction writers, history and war games aficionados and even those whose meager offerings fit into the category of manifestos. Many allowed their inspirations to lead them into right wing politics or the military or even paramilitary groups. There are clandestine organizations, underground magazines and surreptitious publishers. The author inserts his fictional writers into real places and cities and history, creating for us a world building as close to our own as possible while still maintaining the alternate reality setting and theme.
The strength and lasting impression of this encyclopedia of illusory fascist writing is Bolaño’s voice and his razor wit and deft satire. Most thought-provoking is the longest and most sinister entry, a writer involved in torture and serial killings, a shadowy figure but with a cult like following, where Bolaño himself appears in first person narration.
Thought provoking, darkly comical, but sometimes also disconcerting and creepy, Bolaño has me intrigued and I’ll be reading more from him.
March 15, 2013
Few novels bring me to a place that is best described as that plane one is trapped in before waking from a very lucid dream. You know the place where you can taste the air, feel the colors, where reality and imagination are embraced so thoroughly that borders blend and realign themselves. NAZI LITERATURE IN THE AMERICAS is like that place. Bolano creates a completely fabricated world where poets and novelists and artists mingle with other characters-both fictional and real-as if they were all sitting next to you, as neighbors in a world where divisions and boundaries are merely political jargon that are refused entry into the mind. The shear depth of this world is staggering. The novel is almost a collection of individual stories; the individual stories make this a novel. "How can one person be interlocked with so many others?" I kept asking myself as I read. That is when I began to understand Bolano. You see, Bolano wrote in a manner that was more than storytelling; he was creating. He was making and destroying, alloting, toiling, humoring, and redefining what it means to write fiction. Does it all work? NO. But that is part of the novel's beauty. When it doesn't work that makes it all seem the more real. Life is messy. (At least mine is.) And when you stop to think about all the people that have come in and out of your life (and all of thier stories) you will begin to get an understanding and appreciation for this "modest" novel. To say more would only spoil the surreal entrance one gets as they read.
HIGHEST POSSIBLE RECOMMENDATION
HIGHEST POSSIBLE RECOMMENDATION
July 26, 2025
impossible pour moi de mettre autre chose que cinq étoiles à ce bouquin dont je ne saurai désormais trop recommander la découverte à chacun.e d'entre vous. le fascisme a ses dictateurs, ses grands théoriciens, ses démagogues à toute puissance qui enchaînent les mots clés et les déclarations sans équivoque. mais il a aussi ses admirateurs, ses pasticheurs, ses simples sympathisants qui se "contenteront" de mettre toute leur vie et leur oeuvre au service de l'idéologie sans jamais, jamais l'expliciter. ils portent et diffusent un danger extrêmement particulier, pernicieux et redoutable. parmi ces sympathisants discrets, il y a eu, il y a, il y aura forcément des écrivains. à quoi ressemble le nazisme, le fascisme en littérature, quand on ne parle pas de Mein Kampf ? c'est quoi, vraiment, une oeuvre fasciste ? eh bien c'est un ensemble de signaux, de thèmes, de codes, d'hommages, d'insinuations, d'incitations, que Bolano se fait ici oeuvre de compiler, de décrire, d'inventer, de suggérer, de lister, de partager, dans une anthologie retraçant la biographie et la bibliographie de trente écrivains nazis d'Amérique du Nord, centrale et du Sud. tous ont pour point commun d'être fictifs, pure invention, de même que la majorité des oeuvres citées dans le livre - mais pas toutes. c'est fabuleux, cette intertextualité en partie fictive, en partie réelle, qui démontre mieux que tout cours l'hérédité, la logique, la mécanique d'amitié, d'allégeance et de coréférence entre chantres du fascisme. Bolano arrive à déployer tout seul tout un univers de copains, de mentors, d'admirateurs, de rivaux, de muses, d'inspirateurs, de militants, avec leurs maisons d'édition, leurs grands moments, leurs figures de proue, leurs ratés, leurs collègues en science-fiction, en poésie, en polar. tous les visages, littéralement, de l'ennemi, depuis cet auteur qui va parfois à des réunions du Ku Kux Klan "mais qui a aussi des amis noirs" à cette poétesse qui garde chez elle une photo d'elle bébé dans les bras de Hitler, depuis cet auteur a priori sans affiliation aucune au nazisme mais qui parle quand même vachement d'âge d'or dans ses bouquins, et quel âge d'or, se rend-on compte si on s'y penche d'un peu plus près, à ce poète qui a combattu dans des milices au service de la dictature, avec une oeuvre qui s'en fait parfois le reflet, mais souvent non - cela veut-il dire qu'elle est inoffensive pour autant ?
débordant d'un humour cynique formidable et dont je ne me rassasie pas (la maison d'édition féministe au Mexique... si vous savez, vous savez), le livre a toutefois cette intelligence de parodier la fameuse neutralité des journalistes et des biographes, qui n'en est évidemment pas une, on le sait. ça a aussi le mérite de créer chez nous une lecture active, enquêtrice, emplie de doute et de scepticisme : le titre nous a dit que tous ces écrivains étaient nazis, qu'est-ce qui est nazi chez ce personnage-là dont je ne vois a priori aucun trait fasciste ? et alors on exerce son regard, d'une façon qu'on n'aurait pas adoptée s'il n'y avait pas eu ce titre, et on comprend, on identifie les motifs, les récurrences, les signaux d'alerte. exercice ô combien salutaire dont on ressort armé par la pratique, et dont je crois que le livre nous encourage et nous aide à l'appliquer ensuite, dans nos vies, par ailleurs, attentivement. les notices biographiques de l'ouvrage, parce qu'elles commentent tous les aspects de la vie de ces artistes sans émettre de jugements sur aucun, ou alors de purs jugements littéraires de forme, en apparence, sont d'autant plus révélatrices, là encore, du danger qu'il y a à simplement raconter des vies, à aligner des faits et à considérer que c'est ça la vérité, parce que oui bien sûr c'en est une forme, mais croire qu'il ne manque pas alors un nécessaire remplissage théorique et contextuel, croire que ce dépouillement ne participe pas d'une forme de neutralisation mortifère de leurs idées, c'est profondément naïf - et dangereux. tellement contente de l'avoir découvert !
débordant d'un humour cynique formidable et dont je ne me rassasie pas (la maison d'édition féministe au Mexique... si vous savez, vous savez), le livre a toutefois cette intelligence de parodier la fameuse neutralité des journalistes et des biographes, qui n'en est évidemment pas une, on le sait. ça a aussi le mérite de créer chez nous une lecture active, enquêtrice, emplie de doute et de scepticisme : le titre nous a dit que tous ces écrivains étaient nazis, qu'est-ce qui est nazi chez ce personnage-là dont je ne vois a priori aucun trait fasciste ? et alors on exerce son regard, d'une façon qu'on n'aurait pas adoptée s'il n'y avait pas eu ce titre, et on comprend, on identifie les motifs, les récurrences, les signaux d'alerte. exercice ô combien salutaire dont on ressort armé par la pratique, et dont je crois que le livre nous encourage et nous aide à l'appliquer ensuite, dans nos vies, par ailleurs, attentivement. les notices biographiques de l'ouvrage, parce qu'elles commentent tous les aspects de la vie de ces artistes sans émettre de jugements sur aucun, ou alors de purs jugements littéraires de forme, en apparence, sont d'autant plus révélatrices, là encore, du danger qu'il y a à simplement raconter des vies, à aligner des faits et à considérer que c'est ça la vérité, parce que oui bien sûr c'en est une forme, mais croire qu'il ne manque pas alors un nécessaire remplissage théorique et contextuel, croire que ce dépouillement ne participe pas d'une forme de neutralisation mortifère de leurs idées, c'est profondément naïf - et dangereux. tellement contente de l'avoir découvert !
April 30, 2008
i spend way too much time making my bookshelves pretty: pruning, arranging, designing... i'm regularly plagued by some pretty critical issues: chronologically? by author? color? size? (y'see... unlike the rest of my shitty and privileged generation who gets all pantiebunched about evil corporations & all them bombs dropped on all them brown people, i actually have serious things on the brain) i fantasize that i'm gonna bring some gorgeous woman back home (please god let it be marisa tomei and/or rosario dawson) and she'll be kind of on the fence and then when she sees all the fantastic books in my collection and how beautiful they all are she'll fuck me all night.
and bolano's all about that. he loves books and writers more than me. more than anyone, i think. the man is kinda deranged. but it's not in some egghead annoying hermetically-sealed shut-off-from-humanity way. his books explode with cigarette-smoking scotch-swilling cafe-hanging author-referencing sex-starved book-obsessed maniacs.
and the one above? Nazi Literature? could've been a slight literary joke. or seriously dull. but again, books are to bolano what deprivation was to larkin what daffodils were to wordsworth: life. books = life. and this book is alive with both.
and bolano's all about that. he loves books and writers more than me. more than anyone, i think. the man is kinda deranged. but it's not in some egghead annoying hermetically-sealed shut-off-from-humanity way. his books explode with cigarette-smoking scotch-swilling cafe-hanging author-referencing sex-starved book-obsessed maniacs.
and the one above? Nazi Literature? could've been a slight literary joke. or seriously dull. but again, books are to bolano what deprivation was to larkin what daffodils were to wordsworth: life. books = life. and this book is alive with both.
September 29, 2015
This is an encyclopedia of writers associated with the Nazi Literature movement of the 20th century, focusing mainly on those living in the Americas. It gives each writer a couple of pages of biography and discusses most of their major works. All of it is backed up by an extensive index and a vast bibliography. So far so simple yeah? Oh hell no. This is fucking Bolaño.
Y'see, there is no such thing as Nazi Literature. It's all made up. And all of the people discussed in this book? All made up as well. This is a fictional encyclopedia. None of it is real.
I will admit, if you haven't read any Bolaño before then this work will be completely wasted on you. This is Bolaño at his most Bolaño. It is just so weird and fun and strangely tragic. You honestly treat these fictional people as real, living writers. You become intrigued by their oeuvres only to remember it's all made up. It's utterly original and a fine antinovel. It only further elevates Bolaño to the level of a genius.
Y'see, there is no such thing as Nazi Literature. It's all made up. And all of the people discussed in this book? All made up as well. This is a fictional encyclopedia. None of it is real.
I will admit, if you haven't read any Bolaño before then this work will be completely wasted on you. This is Bolaño at his most Bolaño. It is just so weird and fun and strangely tragic. You honestly treat these fictional people as real, living writers. You become intrigued by their oeuvres only to remember it's all made up. It's utterly original and a fine antinovel. It only further elevates Bolaño to the level of a genius.
February 2, 2018
Όταν διάβασα τον τίτλο του βιβλίου,μου κέντρισε αυτόματα το ενδιαφέρον.Μα,καλά,θα μπορούσε να υπάρχουν ναζί συγγραφείς στη Λατινική Αμερική;
Σύμφωνα με τον Μπολάνιο,ναι.Ο συγγραφέας δημιούργησε 30 εκκεντρικούς λογοτέχνες,άλλοι περισσότερο διάσημοι και άλλοι λιγότερο (κάποιους θα τους χαρακτηρίζαμε άγνωστους,σίγουρα),που προσπαθούν να αναγνωριστούν απ’το αναγνωστικό κοινό και τους κριτικούς.Όλοι τους ασπάστηκαν τη ναζιστική ιδεολογία,είτε γιατί δε γούσταραν τους κομμουνιστές είτε γιατί βρέθηκαν σε κάποια φάση της ζωής τους σε ευρωπαϊκές χώρες που βρίσκονταν υπό την επιρροή του Χίτλερ (ή τον Μουσολίνι) και γοητεύτηκαν απ’ τη ρητορική τους.Δηλαδή,αποτέλεσε ατομική επιλογή και όχι κάποιο κίνημα (όπως είχα στο μυαλό μου ότι θα έβλεπα) που τους έσπρωξε σ’ αυτή την επιλογή.
Το χιούμορ του Μπολάνιο είναι,για μια ακόμα φορά,υπόγειο και καυστικό.Εναλλάσσεται με το σοβαρό,σε βαθμό που να μην είσαι απόλυτα σίγουρος πότε ειρωνεύεται και πότε μιλάει σοβαρά.Γενικά,με τον Μπολάνιο δεν είσαι σίγουρος για το τι ακριβώς διαβάζεις και το που θα οδηγήσει αυτό,αλλά ξέρεις ότι κάτι θέλει να (σου) πει.Ακόμα και αν δεν ξέρεις τι είναι αυτό το κάτι.
Δεν ξέρω γιατί κάποιος να διαβάσει τις βιογραφίες 30 φανταστικών συγγραφέων,τα ονόματα των οποίων είναι δύσκολο να τα θυμάσαι όταν κλείσεις το βιβλίο.Αυτό που ξέρω,όμως,είναι ότι αν η έκβαση του Β’ Παγκόσμιου Πολέμου ήταν διαφορετική και είχε επικρατήσει ο ναζισμός,οι άνθρωποι αυτοί όχι μόνο δε θα ήταν φανταστικοί,αλλά θα αποτελούσαν και την πρωτοπορία της λογοτεχνίας που θα κυριαρχούσε.
Σύμφωνα με τον Μπολάνιο,ναι.Ο συγγραφέας δημιούργησε 30 εκκεντρικούς λογοτέχνες,άλλοι περισσότερο διάσημοι και άλλοι λιγότερο (κάποιους θα τους χαρακτηρίζαμε άγνωστους,σίγουρα),που προσπαθούν να αναγνωριστούν απ’το αναγνωστικό κοινό και τους κριτικούς.Όλοι τους ασπάστηκαν τη ναζιστική ιδεολογία,είτε γιατί δε γούσταραν τους κομμουνιστές είτε γιατί βρέθηκαν σε κάποια φάση της ζωής τους σε ευρωπαϊκές χώρες που βρίσκονταν υπό την επιρροή του Χίτλερ (ή τον Μουσολίνι) και γοητεύτηκαν απ’ τη ρητορική τους.Δηλαδή,αποτέλεσε ατομική επιλογή και όχι κάποιο κίνημα (όπως είχα στο μυαλό μου ότι θα έβλεπα) που τους έσπρωξε σ’ αυτή την επιλογή.
Το χιούμορ του Μπολάνιο είναι,για μια ακόμα φορά,υπόγειο και καυστικό.Εναλλάσσεται με το σοβαρό,σε βαθμό που να μην είσαι απόλυτα σίγουρος πότε ειρωνεύεται και πότε μιλάει σοβαρά.Γενικά,με τον Μπολάνιο δεν είσαι σίγουρος για το τι ακριβώς διαβάζεις και το που θα οδηγήσει αυτό,αλλά ξέρεις ότι κάτι θέλει να (σου) πει.Ακόμα και αν δεν ξέρεις τι είναι αυτό το κάτι.
Δεν ξέρω γιατί κάποιος να διαβάσει τις βιογραφίες 30 φανταστικών συγγραφέων,τα ονόματα των οποίων είναι δύσκολο να τα θυμάσαι όταν κλείσεις το βιβλίο.Αυτό που ξέρω,όμως,είναι ότι αν η έκβαση του Β’ Παγκόσμιου Πολέμου ήταν διαφορετική και είχε επικρατήσει ο ναζισμός,οι άνθρωποι αυτοί όχι μόνο δε θα ήταν φανταστικοί,αλλά θα αποτελούσαν και την πρωτοπορία της λογοτεχνίας που θα κυριαρχούσε.
May 24, 2008
This brutal little classic will be only appreciated by misfits, if they're lucky enough to discover it. It's the most recently translated novel of the late Roberto Bolaño (in another handsome edition from New Directions): a volume of invented biographies, detailing the lives and works of fascist litterateurs who never existed.
Here is wicked humor of the highest order – but I suspect it will be opaque to anyone innocent of the cruelties of literary gossip masquerading as criticism (and as an occasional contributer, I would know). It also helps to have a cursory knowledge of the history of South American fascism, which provides the black backdrop to Bolaño's potted poisoned lives. His tone is insistently aseptic, his evaluations all the more lethal for being neutral in their execution. It's one of the sharpest, funniest books I know, but its hilarity cuts to the bone and is almost indistinguishable from grief.
Here is wicked humor of the highest order – but I suspect it will be opaque to anyone innocent of the cruelties of literary gossip masquerading as criticism (and as an occasional contributer, I would know). It also helps to have a cursory knowledge of the history of South American fascism, which provides the black backdrop to Bolaño's potted poisoned lives. His tone is insistently aseptic, his evaluations all the more lethal for being neutral in their execution. It's one of the sharpest, funniest books I know, but its hilarity cuts to the bone and is almost indistinguishable from grief.
July 6, 2024
My brief 2011 review: (5 stars)
One of the most audaciously hilarious and alternately heartbreaking works I've read. I heart Bolano.
2021 Review: (3 stars)
Unfortunately after rereading this modern classic after 10 years, I fear the magic has left…
I found this to be a myriad of ideas that seemed to be stuck in macho existentialism. Bolano, the artist stuck in his own head. So giving this short story collection another go after ten years to see if I still believed in the hype that Bolano was still the master many writers and readers claim him to be, this time this was an underwhelming read. I found this collection to be on the verge of a pretentious breakdown, but Bolano's dirty and sardonic humor is intact.
For example, his character, Carlos Ramirez Hoffman seems to hate any Western European fiction as bourgeois. In his anger, he defecates books written by Hugo, Balzac, (he masturbates on those); urinates on Stendhal's, and cutting himself with blood spilling all over Flaubert's. If there was a hidden joke hidden in the vignettes written in this collection, I must have not understood it, for this book left me baffled.
I still love Bolano- but I fear as I've gotten older, almost fifteen years since discovering his work by reading "2666" "Last Evenings on Earth" and "The Savage Detectives", his writing might have meant to me at that place in life as something extraordinary and other worldly. I still believe in his art, his talent, and his love of literature and poetry.
However, the pretentiousness in this book left me a bit cold.
One of the most audaciously hilarious and alternately heartbreaking works I've read. I heart Bolano.
2021 Review: (3 stars)
Unfortunately after rereading this modern classic after 10 years, I fear the magic has left…
I found this to be a myriad of ideas that seemed to be stuck in macho existentialism. Bolano, the artist stuck in his own head. So giving this short story collection another go after ten years to see if I still believed in the hype that Bolano was still the master many writers and readers claim him to be, this time this was an underwhelming read. I found this collection to be on the verge of a pretentious breakdown, but Bolano's dirty and sardonic humor is intact.
For example, his character, Carlos Ramirez Hoffman seems to hate any Western European fiction as bourgeois. In his anger, he defecates books written by Hugo, Balzac, (he masturbates on those); urinates on Stendhal's, and cutting himself with blood spilling all over Flaubert's. If there was a hidden joke hidden in the vignettes written in this collection, I must have not understood it, for this book left me baffled.
I still love Bolano- but I fear as I've gotten older, almost fifteen years since discovering his work by reading "2666" "Last Evenings on Earth" and "The Savage Detectives", his writing might have meant to me at that place in life as something extraordinary and other worldly. I still believe in his art, his talent, and his love of literature and poetry.
However, the pretentiousness in this book left me a bit cold.
October 10, 2020
Abandon ship! Abandon ship! On p41, I admit defeat and Roberto Bolaño wins the archly clever condescending twit sweepstakes hands down.
July 5, 2012
In Nazi Literature in the Americas Roberto Bolaño - a Chilean writer who sadly died aged fifty in 2003 - has provided the perfect literary companion. It’s an exhaustive collection of pocket obituaries of all the major and many of the minor poets, writers and novelists whose political conservatism took them to the extreme right, who became Nazis or fellow travellers, all of whom were born in the Americas. It’s such a pity we do not have a European equivalent.
I confess I had never heard of many of the poets, novelists and artists in his exhaustive anthology. No, I’ll go further: I had never heard of any of them. But perhaps that’s just the nature of the subject, that and the fact that most of them were miserable failures who came to rather bleak and lonely ends.
For those of you who are in as much ignorance as I am over this subject the author has helpfully provided a good summary at the end. There is also a decent bibliography, with the main works of the poets, writers and novelists listed, together with their place and date of publication.
I’m glancing over it now, as I write and as I think. My eye is immediately drawn to The Birth of the New City Force by Gustavo Borda, published in Mexico City in 2005. I pause, surprised. Obviously there is something wrong. Remember, Bolaño died in 2003. He could not possibly know about this book, first appearing two years later. It must be a misprint. But then there is Untitled, a posthumous novel by Zach Sondenstern, published in Los Angeles in 2023, thirteen years from now. Thirteen years! Bolaño could not know this; I could not know this; you could not know this.
I apologise; I’m being deeply disingenuous, as those of you who have already read this book will know. For, you see, it’s not an encyclopedia at all: it’s a novel, though one of the strangest that you are ever likely to encounter. It’s a deadpan anthology, darkly humorous at points, bitingly ironic, of people who never existed, poems never written and novels never published. I would go further: it’s a literary zoo, a collection of people who could never exist.
Bolaño, whom I am only just discovering, is from the same place and the same tradition as Jorge Luis Borges. We are in the same territory, in other words, as The Universal History of Infamy and Borges’ other brilliant fictions, which exist in a half-world between truth and inventiveness. Nazi Literature in the Americas, first published in Spanish in 1996, owes a considerable debt to Borges. Bolaño has the same imaginative and creative facility, if not the same economy of genius.
His book is the world of the impish imagination; his creations for the most part grotesque and, for me, outrageously funny. There is the Brazilian Luiz Fontaine Da Souza, who writes obsessive, and eye-wateringly lengthy, multi-volume refutations of the carriers of the modern idea, from Montesquieu to Sartre ( the latter’s Being and Nothingness is a particular obsession!). There is Zach Sodenstern, the American who wrote the Gunther O’Connell series of science fiction novels, whose hero has a German Sheppard dog with telepathic powers and Nazi tendencies! And then there is my personal favourite, Carlos Ramirez Hoffman, a Chilean poet in the pay of Pinochet’s death squads, who composes poetry in the sky in a plane fitted with smoke canisters, to “write out his nightmares, which were our nightmares too, for the wind to obliterate.” I have a feeling that both the Futurists and Dadaists would have adored him!
And so it goes on. Bolaño does not just invent people and ideas, he invents complete schools of literature, including French ‘barbaric’ writing, lead by a retired Parisian concierge much given to urinating on the novels of Stendhal! The whole thing is a great pastiche. In the sense the subject matter is almost irrelevant, in that the real explorations here are into words and ideas, to the imaginative and creative use of language in a brilliantly playful fashion. It’s the work of a literary trickster, the Loki of the imagination. The real love, the inner love, is that of books and all they have to offer.
There is, of course, another possibility, another piece of Borges-style magic. Bolaño has created an alternate literary universe, one peopled by obsessives, cranks and literary mediocrities. Goebbels once lamented that National Socialism seemed incapable of creating great art. What he did not understand, what he could not understand, was that such a thing was impossible, because great works of art can only be created by minds that are free to roam without restriction. In the Goebbels universe the only art that could exist is that of the oddities who populate the pages of Nazi Literature in the Americas.
I confess I had never heard of many of the poets, novelists and artists in his exhaustive anthology. No, I’ll go further: I had never heard of any of them. But perhaps that’s just the nature of the subject, that and the fact that most of them were miserable failures who came to rather bleak and lonely ends.
For those of you who are in as much ignorance as I am over this subject the author has helpfully provided a good summary at the end. There is also a decent bibliography, with the main works of the poets, writers and novelists listed, together with their place and date of publication.
I’m glancing over it now, as I write and as I think. My eye is immediately drawn to The Birth of the New City Force by Gustavo Borda, published in Mexico City in 2005. I pause, surprised. Obviously there is something wrong. Remember, Bolaño died in 2003. He could not possibly know about this book, first appearing two years later. It must be a misprint. But then there is Untitled, a posthumous novel by Zach Sondenstern, published in Los Angeles in 2023, thirteen years from now. Thirteen years! Bolaño could not know this; I could not know this; you could not know this.
I apologise; I’m being deeply disingenuous, as those of you who have already read this book will know. For, you see, it’s not an encyclopedia at all: it’s a novel, though one of the strangest that you are ever likely to encounter. It’s a deadpan anthology, darkly humorous at points, bitingly ironic, of people who never existed, poems never written and novels never published. I would go further: it’s a literary zoo, a collection of people who could never exist.
Bolaño, whom I am only just discovering, is from the same place and the same tradition as Jorge Luis Borges. We are in the same territory, in other words, as The Universal History of Infamy and Borges’ other brilliant fictions, which exist in a half-world between truth and inventiveness. Nazi Literature in the Americas, first published in Spanish in 1996, owes a considerable debt to Borges. Bolaño has the same imaginative and creative facility, if not the same economy of genius.
His book is the world of the impish imagination; his creations for the most part grotesque and, for me, outrageously funny. There is the Brazilian Luiz Fontaine Da Souza, who writes obsessive, and eye-wateringly lengthy, multi-volume refutations of the carriers of the modern idea, from Montesquieu to Sartre ( the latter’s Being and Nothingness is a particular obsession!). There is Zach Sodenstern, the American who wrote the Gunther O’Connell series of science fiction novels, whose hero has a German Sheppard dog with telepathic powers and Nazi tendencies! And then there is my personal favourite, Carlos Ramirez Hoffman, a Chilean poet in the pay of Pinochet’s death squads, who composes poetry in the sky in a plane fitted with smoke canisters, to “write out his nightmares, which were our nightmares too, for the wind to obliterate.” I have a feeling that both the Futurists and Dadaists would have adored him!
And so it goes on. Bolaño does not just invent people and ideas, he invents complete schools of literature, including French ‘barbaric’ writing, lead by a retired Parisian concierge much given to urinating on the novels of Stendhal! The whole thing is a great pastiche. In the sense the subject matter is almost irrelevant, in that the real explorations here are into words and ideas, to the imaginative and creative use of language in a brilliantly playful fashion. It’s the work of a literary trickster, the Loki of the imagination. The real love, the inner love, is that of books and all they have to offer.
There is, of course, another possibility, another piece of Borges-style magic. Bolaño has created an alternate literary universe, one peopled by obsessives, cranks and literary mediocrities. Goebbels once lamented that National Socialism seemed incapable of creating great art. What he did not understand, what he could not understand, was that such a thing was impossible, because great works of art can only be created by minds that are free to roam without restriction. In the Goebbels universe the only art that could exist is that of the oddities who populate the pages of Nazi Literature in the Americas.
September 26, 2010
An alternative literary history. Bolaño holds a mirror up to the fascist blowhards canonised by the establishment with his cast of lovable Nazi sympathisers.
This is basically a book of spurious biographical details about spurious writers. How it manages to be a rip-roaring and bum-loving read is part of its magical sway. Recommended.
This is basically a book of spurious biographical details about spurious writers. How it manages to be a rip-roaring and bum-loving read is part of its magical sway. Recommended.
June 16, 2024
Bolaño’s exquisite work here is underappreciated in a lot of circles for one virtue: it’s a whole mess a goddamn fun. Sure he’s working out of a Latin-American tradition of fictions-within-fictions; he calls bullshit on himself for it slyly throughout the book. I think any read benefits from having a running knowledge of at least some of the real authors that he peppers throughout. But even if you have zero context, there's such glee on these pages (I wore gloves) that it is hard to resist getting caught up in the excitement.
Special mention must go out to the ‘Speculative Fiction’ chapter, as Bolaño’s clearly having way too much fun coming up with sci-fi storylines and titles. His enthusiasm is infectious and surprisingly sweet, even as it lampoons the hell out of that most ridiculed of genres. More than a few made me chortle, three made me guffaw. I glee'd once, prematurely.
Bolaño’s is a mordant sense of humor than never bubbles anywhere near demonstrative. Assuming the pose of ‘history’ to satirize some institutional sacred cows expose them to be the paper tigers that they really are. The previous sentence is an absolutely stellar example of idiom abuse. I, robot, digress.
In my opinion, his brio should be respected and celebrated. Poor sonofabitch had to go and die at 50, robbing the world of a man who knew the back roads to a good piss-take and wrote flawlessly. But I see that Rupert Murdoch is still alive, so, you know, I guess life’s fair after all. Touché, Beelzebub.
Special mention must go out to the ‘Speculative Fiction’ chapter, as Bolaño’s clearly having way too much fun coming up with sci-fi storylines and titles. His enthusiasm is infectious and surprisingly sweet, even as it lampoons the hell out of that most ridiculed of genres. More than a few made me chortle, three made me guffaw. I glee'd once, prematurely.
Bolaño’s is a mordant sense of humor than never bubbles anywhere near demonstrative. Assuming the pose of ‘history’ to satirize some institutional sacred cows expose them to be the paper tigers that they really are. The previous sentence is an absolutely stellar example of idiom abuse. I, robot, digress.
In my opinion, his brio should be respected and celebrated. Poor sonofabitch had to go and die at 50, robbing the world of a man who knew the back roads to a good piss-take and wrote flawlessly. But I see that Rupert Murdoch is still alive, so, you know, I guess life’s fair after all. Touché, Beelzebub.
January 5, 2024
Tümü kurmaca, hepsi de bir şekilde Latin Amerika ile bağlantısı olan ve çok büyük bir kısmı Latin ve Orta Amerikalı edebiyatçılar vasıtasıyla, Amerika kıtasındaki Nazi hayranlığı gerçeğini anlatıyor Bolano. Özellikle 2. Dünya Savaşı mağlubu Alman’ların akın akın Güney Amerika’ya kaçmaları, oraya yerleşmeleri ve yaşamlarını sürdürmelerinin ipuçlarının, Latin Amerika’nın genlerinde, daha doğrusu Galeano’nun “Latin Amerika’nın Kesik Damarları”ndan esinlenerek söyleyebileceğim “Latin Amerika’nın Açık Damarları”nda yearaldığını edebiyattan kurmaca örneklerle anlatıyor.
Bu hayali edebiyat örneklerinde Bolano diğer kitaplarına gönderme yapma geleneğini burada da “Uzak Yıldız” ve “2066” ile devam ettiriyor. Bazı yerlerde tekrarlara veya benzeşmelere düşse de onun kaleminin buna hakkı vardır dersek yanlışa düşmeyiz. Türkçe olarak basılan tüm kitaplarını okuduğum Roberto Bolano’nun 50 yaş gibi genç denilecek bir yaşta ölmesi büyük bir şansızlık, belki de haksızlık diye düşünüyorum…
Bu hayali edebiyat örneklerinde Bolano diğer kitaplarına gönderme yapma geleneğini burada da “Uzak Yıldız” ve “2066” ile devam ettiriyor. Bazı yerlerde tekrarlara veya benzeşmelere düşse de onun kaleminin buna hakkı vardır dersek yanlışa düşmeyiz. Türkçe olarak basılan tüm kitaplarını okuduğum Roberto Bolano’nun 50 yaş gibi genç denilecek bir yaşta ölmesi büyük bir şansızlık, belki de haksızlık diye düşünüyorum…
October 13, 2018
I kept waiting for something - a revelation, a common thread - to draw the narrative together and bring it into focus, but there was nothing. I searched for common themes, something to unify the novel, but there is very little of this nature. It seems that the brief, fictional biographies are simply to be taken for what they are, in and of themselves. There is humour there, and intelligence, and a wild imagination, but for me these things weren't enough. I'm hesitant to reward such ambition and creativity with a low rating, and I trust Bolaño enough to believe that Nazi Literature in the Americas is a brilliantly subtle and intricate work, but I am personally too far removed from its context. Overall, it was a little too esoteric for me.
August 13, 2013
In the one notorious ‘Book’ in 2666, Bolano numbs his reader with one vignette of rape and murder after another. They read like a police blotter. In Nazi Literature in the Americas, one capsule biography of an extreme right-wing writer follows another. They read like encyclopedia entries. There’s an ostensible simplicity there; but this is not just some mere exposition of cleverness. I mean, it can’t just be that, can it?
(Whenever I make some pretense of discussing what a work of fiction really means, I always offer the disclaimer that: I don’t know. And I really don’t. Just thinking out loud on the keyboard.)
Bolano writes about Evil (with a capital E). And nothing epitomizes evil like the Third Reich. So, Bolano goes again and again to that Nazi well. Which is nice for a reader (looking around my very quiet office) who doesn’t like to burn too many brain cells trying to spot the allegory. There is no hidden DSM-V denouement; no child abuse or bedwetting or near death experience to add explanation. Evil Is.
But that doesn’t mean we can’t laugh at it. Among the poems of John Brock that Bolano assures us “merit special attention” is Street Without a Name: “a text in which quotations from MacLeish and Conrad Aiken are combined with the menus of the Orange County jail and the pederastic dreams of a literature professor who taught classes for the prisoners on Tuesdays and Thursdays.” Bolano has that kind of mind. My guess is that that came out in one take.
There are quick bios of 100 or so made-up writers and artists. Here’s just two:
Arthur Crane. New Orleans, 1947 – Los Angeles, 1989. Poet. Author of a number of important books, including Homosexual Heaven and Disciplining Children. He indulged his suicidal tendencies by frequenting the underworld and hanging out with lowlifes. Others smoke three packs of cigarettes a day.
Antonio Lacouture. Buenos Aires, 1943 – Buenos Aires, 1999. Argentinean military officer. He defeated subversives but lost the Falklands. An expert in the “submarine” technique and the application of electrodes. He invented a game using mice. The sound of his voice made prisoners tremble. He received various decorations.
Some of the “dates of death” for these writers are beyond the date of publication and beyond today, as I write this: 2021, 2022, 2015, 2029. Again, I don’t know and maybe it’s all too simple, but Evil exists, it is. It did not end at Nuremburg with a few well-deserved hangings. Evil is embedded and lasts. At least until 2666.
(Whenever I make some pretense of discussing what a work of fiction really means, I always offer the disclaimer that: I don’t know. And I really don’t. Just thinking out loud on the keyboard.)
Bolano writes about Evil (with a capital E). And nothing epitomizes evil like the Third Reich. So, Bolano goes again and again to that Nazi well. Which is nice for a reader (looking around my very quiet office) who doesn’t like to burn too many brain cells trying to spot the allegory. There is no hidden DSM-V denouement; no child abuse or bedwetting or near death experience to add explanation. Evil Is.
But that doesn’t mean we can’t laugh at it. Among the poems of John Brock that Bolano assures us “merit special attention” is Street Without a Name: “a text in which quotations from MacLeish and Conrad Aiken are combined with the menus of the Orange County jail and the pederastic dreams of a literature professor who taught classes for the prisoners on Tuesdays and Thursdays.” Bolano has that kind of mind. My guess is that that came out in one take.
There are quick bios of 100 or so made-up writers and artists. Here’s just two:
Arthur Crane. New Orleans, 1947 – Los Angeles, 1989. Poet. Author of a number of important books, including Homosexual Heaven and Disciplining Children. He indulged his suicidal tendencies by frequenting the underworld and hanging out with lowlifes. Others smoke three packs of cigarettes a day.
Antonio Lacouture. Buenos Aires, 1943 – Buenos Aires, 1999. Argentinean military officer. He defeated subversives but lost the Falklands. An expert in the “submarine” technique and the application of electrodes. He invented a game using mice. The sound of his voice made prisoners tremble. He received various decorations.
Some of the “dates of death” for these writers are beyond the date of publication and beyond today, as I write this: 2021, 2022, 2015, 2029. Again, I don’t know and maybe it’s all too simple, but Evil exists, it is. It did not end at Nuremburg with a few well-deserved hangings. Evil is embedded and lasts. At least until 2666.
May 20, 2024
Kitap bitince aklımda şu soru belirdi: Ne okudum ben şimdi! Yoğun, daha doğrusu karışık, bir dönemime geldiği için biraz dağınık bir okuma oldu, kitabın çoğunu uyumadan hemen önce yatakta okudum. Hem bundan dolayı hem de Bolano'dan okuduğum ilk eser olduğu için hakkınca değerlendirmem mümkün değil. Ama böyle bir eser ortaya çıkaran kalemden ne çıktıysa okunur diye düşünüyorum.
May 19, 2012
This book is not for everyone - it requires that you are already in on Bolaño's prosopographical (inside) jokes (if you are, much of this is hysterical); love his jungle of proper nouns - reminiscent of Whitman or Catullus, but lusher -- and have a serious interest in understanding the pathologies of fascism and Nazism. For what Bolaño offers here is nothing less than a filleting of the psychology/pathology of fascism -- on the premise that fascism is not a doctrine (not wholly true), but a mood, a sentiment, a virus... an "instinct in the soul" (Maurice Bardèche), this is precisely (one of) the right approach(es). Bolaño is one of the great anti-fascist writers of our times -- and serves to warn us, from his grave, of the dangers that the fascist international (always hiding under different names and different romances) poses in the coming century.
(For an example of what I mean by the 'lyrical' element in Nazism, see the appendices to this book - the two letters written by Cioran in the mid or early-30's that express his "love", admiration, and exaltation of Hitler: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/31... -- a sentiment that proves to have been quite widespread in Romantic circles in Europe at this time. There are photos of Hitler entering Austria by car at the Anschluss, where the women lining the street are screaming orgasmically as if he were one of the Beatles on The Ed Sullivan Show.)
Finally, regarding the lyrical fascist aesthetic, here is Susan Sontag's 1974 NYRB article on "Fascinating Fascism" and Leni Riefenstahl, which makes many of the essential points, and is a must read: http://www.history.ucsb.edu/faculty/m...
And don't skip the Epilogue, with its lists of "Secondary Figures" and "Publishing Houses"... e.g.
Eugenio Entrescu. Bacau, Rumania, 1905 - Kishinev, Ukraine, 1944. Rumanian General. During the Second World War he distinguished himself in the capture of Odessa, the Siege of Sebastopol and the Battle of Stalingrad. Erect, his member was exactly twelve inches long, half an inch longer than that of Dan Carmine [see ad loc.]. He commanded the 20th Division, the 14th Division and the 3rd Infantry Corps. His soldiers crucified him in a village near Kishinev.
or...
María Teresa Greco. New Jersey, 1936 - Orlando, 2004. Argentino Schiaffino's [see ad loc.] second wife. According to eye-witnesses she was tall, thin and bony, a sort of ghost or incarnation of the will.
The final chapter, "The Infamous Ramirez Hoffman" is the chapter that was expanded into Distant Star.
I agree w/ others (William) that this is not the book to start with, for Bolaño, and think that Distant Star and Last Evenings on Earth are the place to start. But for those with the strange and requisite interests, this book has much to offer.
(For an example of what I mean by the 'lyrical' element in Nazism, see the appendices to this book - the two letters written by Cioran in the mid or early-30's that express his "love", admiration, and exaltation of Hitler: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/31... -- a sentiment that proves to have been quite widespread in Romantic circles in Europe at this time. There are photos of Hitler entering Austria by car at the Anschluss, where the women lining the street are screaming orgasmically as if he were one of the Beatles on The Ed Sullivan Show.)
Finally, regarding the lyrical fascist aesthetic, here is Susan Sontag's 1974 NYRB article on "Fascinating Fascism" and Leni Riefenstahl, which makes many of the essential points, and is a must read: http://www.history.ucsb.edu/faculty/m...
And don't skip the Epilogue, with its lists of "Secondary Figures" and "Publishing Houses"... e.g.
Eugenio Entrescu. Bacau, Rumania, 1905 - Kishinev, Ukraine, 1944. Rumanian General. During the Second World War he distinguished himself in the capture of Odessa, the Siege of Sebastopol and the Battle of Stalingrad. Erect, his member was exactly twelve inches long, half an inch longer than that of Dan Carmine [see ad loc.]. He commanded the 20th Division, the 14th Division and the 3rd Infantry Corps. His soldiers crucified him in a village near Kishinev.
or...
María Teresa Greco. New Jersey, 1936 - Orlando, 2004. Argentino Schiaffino's [see ad loc.] second wife. According to eye-witnesses she was tall, thin and bony, a sort of ghost or incarnation of the will.
The final chapter, "The Infamous Ramirez Hoffman" is the chapter that was expanded into Distant Star.
I agree w/ others (William) that this is not the book to start with, for Bolaño, and think that Distant Star and Last Evenings on Earth are the place to start. But for those with the strange and requisite interests, this book has much to offer.
November 13, 2024
While reading Nazi Literature in the Americas for the second time, I was struck by how quintessential it feels within Roberto Bolaño’s oeuvre, yet it remains simultaneously dense and impenetrable.
The novel is a dark, intricately woven satire that explores the intersection of literature, politics, and ideology in a world where the boundaries between art and extremism blur disturbingly. Presented as a biographical encyclopedia of fictional authors, the novel doesn’t simply mock its characters; instead, it places them in a stark, haunting light, revealing how creative minds, in their search for meaning and recognition, can easily fall prey to the seductive allure of extreme ideologies. Bolaño takes us through the twisted lives of poets, critics, and novelists, delving into their failures, grand delusions, and the tragic consequences of their ideological pursuits.
The final chapter tells the story of Ramírez Hoffman—aviator, poet, and serial killer—whose entry offers the most in-depth exploration of Bolaño’s themes. Hoffman embodies the collapse of art into violence, a figure who seeks transcendence through destruction.
Bolaño uses Hoffman to explore the devastating consequences of letting ideology shape artistic creation, revealing how the pursuit of beauty can swiftly degenerate into violence when entwined with the forces of extremism. Through Hoffman’s tragic arc, Bolaño offers a powerful critique of literature as both a force for creation and a weapon of destruction.
Nazi Literature in the Americas is a beautiful, challenging, and trenchant examination of the darker, more dangerous impulses that lurk within the creative psyche. Through his unparalleled storytelling, Bolaño uncovers the disquieting truth that art, like life itself, is inescapably bound to the shadows cast by its creators’ desires and moral failings.
The novel is a dark, intricately woven satire that explores the intersection of literature, politics, and ideology in a world where the boundaries between art and extremism blur disturbingly. Presented as a biographical encyclopedia of fictional authors, the novel doesn’t simply mock its characters; instead, it places them in a stark, haunting light, revealing how creative minds, in their search for meaning and recognition, can easily fall prey to the seductive allure of extreme ideologies. Bolaño takes us through the twisted lives of poets, critics, and novelists, delving into their failures, grand delusions, and the tragic consequences of their ideological pursuits.
The final chapter tells the story of Ramírez Hoffman—aviator, poet, and serial killer—whose entry offers the most in-depth exploration of Bolaño’s themes. Hoffman embodies the collapse of art into violence, a figure who seeks transcendence through destruction.
Bolaño uses Hoffman to explore the devastating consequences of letting ideology shape artistic creation, revealing how the pursuit of beauty can swiftly degenerate into violence when entwined with the forces of extremism. Through Hoffman’s tragic arc, Bolaño offers a powerful critique of literature as both a force for creation and a weapon of destruction.
Nazi Literature in the Americas is a beautiful, challenging, and trenchant examination of the darker, more dangerous impulses that lurk within the creative psyche. Through his unparalleled storytelling, Bolaño uncovers the disquieting truth that art, like life itself, is inescapably bound to the shadows cast by its creators’ desires and moral failings.
February 9, 2025
epeydir beklettiğim bir kitaptı “amerika kıtasında nazi edebiyatı”. roberto bolaño’yu çok seviyorum ama bazı kitaplarında yabancılaştığım ya da diğer kitaplarla istenen bağı kuramayıp anlamadığım oldu.
bu kitap bir hayal cümbüşü. ben nedense latin amerika’ya kaçan nazilerle filan ilgili anlatılan yazarlar sanıyordum haha bu da benim hayal gücümmüş. meğer abd’den tutun da şili, kolombiya, dominik cumhuriyeti, arjantin, brezilya… her yere uzanan bir cümbüş.
roberto bolaño’da nasıl bir yaratıcılık, nasıl bir uydurma yeteneği var yareppim. burada bazıları 2 bazıları 10 sayfa süren bölümlerde kaç hayat öğreniyoruz, hem de ne detaylar, ne isimler, ne bağlantılar… şöyle düşündüm okurken bu bir roman değil, olay örgüsü yok, bağlantılar varsa da ancak akrabalık vs, benim çocukken kağıt bebeklerimle oynarken yaptığım gibi, uydur uydurabildiğince, kur kurabildiğince… hayran kaldım.
tabii arka planda 1900’lerin başından itibaren yükselen faşizm, nazizm, yahudi, zenci ve eşcinsel düşmanlığı var. amerika kıtasından yazarlar, bunu gizleyenler, gizleyemeyenler, destek çıkan yayınevleri, destek çıkmayan yayınevleri, kınayan-kınamayan üniversiteler, neler neler.
ta ki son bölüme kadar. son bölümde anlatıcımız yazarın kendisi oluyor. bu en uzun bölüm. “carlos ramirez hoffmann”ın yaptıklarını biliyoruz. işte burada yazar yine o muhteşem bağlantı yeteneğini kullanarak “uzak yıldız” romanına bir ilmek atıyor. nefis bir ilmek. finalimiz böyle.
ve kitabın çevirmeni canım çido’mun türkçesinden bir şeyler okumayı nasıl özlemişim. kavuşmuşuz gibi bir his.
bu kitap bir hayal cümbüşü. ben nedense latin amerika’ya kaçan nazilerle filan ilgili anlatılan yazarlar sanıyordum haha bu da benim hayal gücümmüş. meğer abd’den tutun da şili, kolombiya, dominik cumhuriyeti, arjantin, brezilya… her yere uzanan bir cümbüş.
roberto bolaño’da nasıl bir yaratıcılık, nasıl bir uydurma yeteneği var yareppim. burada bazıları 2 bazıları 10 sayfa süren bölümlerde kaç hayat öğreniyoruz, hem de ne detaylar, ne isimler, ne bağlantılar… şöyle düşündüm okurken bu bir roman değil, olay örgüsü yok, bağlantılar varsa da ancak akrabalık vs, benim çocukken kağıt bebeklerimle oynarken yaptığım gibi, uydur uydurabildiğince, kur kurabildiğince… hayran kaldım.
tabii arka planda 1900’lerin başından itibaren yükselen faşizm, nazizm, yahudi, zenci ve eşcinsel düşmanlığı var. amerika kıtasından yazarlar, bunu gizleyenler, gizleyemeyenler, destek çıkan yayınevleri, destek çıkmayan yayınevleri, kınayan-kınamayan üniversiteler, neler neler.
ta ki son bölüme kadar. son bölümde anlatıcımız yazarın kendisi oluyor. bu en uzun bölüm. “carlos ramirez hoffmann”ın yaptıklarını biliyoruz. işte burada yazar yine o muhteşem bağlantı yeteneğini kullanarak “uzak yıldız” romanına bir ilmek atıyor. nefis bir ilmek. finalimiz böyle.
ve kitabın çevirmeni canım çido’mun türkçesinden bir şeyler okumayı nasıl özlemişim. kavuşmuşuz gibi bir his.
November 18, 2018
Υπάρχουν πειράματα λογοτεχνικά που έχουν την ικανότητα να ιντριγκάρουν τον αναγνώστη με κάθε δυνατό τρόπο. Ο Μπολάνιο είναι ένας από τους mastermind τεχνήτες αυτού του είδους. Ένα κείμενο στημένο με δομή λογοτεχνικής εγκυκλοπαίδειας που μοναδικό στόχο έχει την αφύπνιση και του πιο "αθώου" αναγνώστη, σχετικά με αυτό που ονομάζουμε φασισμό και πως αυτό μπορεί και στοιχειοθετείται μέσα από μια αναφορά φανταστικών λογοτεχνών της αμερικάνικης ηπείρου. Αν και το κείμενο εκδόθηκε το 1996, ο Μπολάνιο δεν θα μπορούσε να βγει πιο προφητικός για αυτό που συμβαίνει στο πολιτικό σύστημα της Αμερικής σήμερα. Με χιουμορ, ειρωνία και εύστοχα σχόλια που κάνουν της καρικατούρες των υποθετικών λατινων - φιλοναζιστών- συγγραφέων να μοιαζουν με υπαρκτά πρόσωπα, τολμά να παρουσιάσει την πραγματική διάσταση ενός καυτού προβλήματος, με αμεσότητα και φαντασία. Ακολουθώντας το μπορχεσιανό μοντελο παράθεσεις μικρών ιστοριών και βιογραφιών, ο Μπολάνιο επιδιδεται στο σχεδίασμα ενός πειράματος, γλώσσας και δομής που δεν αφήνουν ασυγκίνητο τον απαιτητικό αναγνωστικό κοινό, αλλά θα μπορούσε να προσελκύσει και ένα μερος λιγότερο "γυμνασμένου" κοινού. ΥΓ Μερικά σημεία ειδικά προς το τελος, ισως κουρασουν, αλλά και νιώθεις την επιθυμια να το ρουφήξεις, αφου ολα περιγράφονται με πολυ ευφυές χιουμορ...ΜΗΝ ΤΟ ΔΙΑΒΑΣΕΙΣ ΑΝ: Ι) ΔΕΝ ΔΙΑΘΕΤΕΙΣ ΦΑΝΤΑΣΙΑ, ΙΙ) ΔΕΝ ΣΟΥ ΑΡΕΣΟΥΝ ΟΙ ΛΑΤΙΝΟΑΜΕΡΙΚΑΝΟΙ, ΙΙΙ) ΔΕΝ ΕΧΕΙΣ ΔΙΑΒΑΣΕΙ ΜΠΟΡΧΕΣ
July 26, 2018
The format of this fiction is as a biographical guide to Nazi writers, pre- and post-World War II. I was expecting the "entries" to tie together into some sort of recognizable narrative. Bolaño does not do this. Indeed, Bolaño is not even interested in this. Each entry is freestanding and could be subtracted from the whole as easily as, say, new entries could be added. While there is some cross-pollination it doesn't pull the disparate parts together into a story. While the book has relevance for Bolano's œuvre as a whole, it is not the place to start if you are new to this author. I would recommend first trying By Night In Chile or Distant Star or Amulet or Monsieur Pain or 2666.
October 30, 2023
Πόσοι συγγραφείς μπορούν να μετατρέψουν ένα ευφυές λογοτεχνικό παιχνίδι σε μακροσκελές "μυθιστόρημα" που σε κάνει να θέλεις να το διαβάσεις φωναχτά στους φίλους σου για να μοιραστείς το γέλιο μέχρι δακρύων που σου προξενεί;!
Και πόσες εγκυκλοπαίδειες βίου και πολιτείας λογοτεχνών - πλήρεις με αλφαβητικό index και ευρετήριο ονομάτων στο τέλος - έχετε υπόψιν που αναφέρονται λεπτομερώς στον περίφημο Ραμίρες Χόφμαν, σαδιστή βασανιστή της χούντας του Πινοσέτ και ποιητή αιθέριων και στιγμιαίων στίχων τους οποίους σκάλιζε με καπνό στον ουρανό καθως εκτελούσε τις περίπλοκες φιγούρες του σε ένα σαραβαλιασμένο γερμανικό αεροσκάφος; Ή που σκιαγραφούν τον ηγέτη των ultras της Μπόκα, βίαιο και τρυφερό νεαρό που μοίραζε στην είσοδο των γηπέδων τα πολυγραφημένα - και σήμερα δυσεύρετα - αντίτυπα των ποιητικών συλλογών του με ευφάνταστους τίτλους όπως "Χεστείτε Λαγοί";
Ο μακροσκελής κατάλογος επινοημένων, κακομοιρηδων μετρίων (ή οχι και τόσο μετρίων) ποιητών της άκρας δεξιάς δεν είναι απλώς ένα φλύαρο παιχνίδι που συνέλαβε ο ιδιοφυής εγκέφαλος του Bolaño για να σκοτώνει την ώρα του.
Πρόκειται για την πιο εξυπνη, πικρόχολη, (αυτό)σαρκαστική, και κάποτε ανοιχτά μνησίκακη, ειρωνεία που έχει ποτέ εκτοξευθεί εναντίον της σοβαροφανούς και εξαιρετικά φαντασμένης συντεχνίας των συγγραφέων - ναζιστών ή μη!
Αριστούργημα που γίνεται ακόμα πιο απολαυστικό εάν στη θέση των εκκεντρικών χαρακτήρων που περνούν μπροστά από τα μάτια μας αρχίζεις να βάζεις υπαρκτές φιγούρες της σύγχρονης (Λατίνο)αμερικανικής λογοτεχνικής ελίτ, από ιερά τέρατα της προοδευτικής ιντελιγκέντσια έως ξεμωραμένους υπερσυντηρητικούς γέροντες στυλοβάτες της παγκόσμιας λογοτεχνίας!
Απλά τέλειο
Και πόσες εγκυκλοπαίδειες βίου και πολιτείας λογοτεχνών - πλήρεις με αλφαβητικό index και ευρετήριο ονομάτων στο τέλος - έχετε υπόψιν που αναφέρονται λεπτομερώς στον περίφημο Ραμίρες Χόφμαν, σαδιστή βασανιστή της χούντας του Πινοσέτ και ποιητή αιθέριων και στιγμιαίων στίχων τους οποίους σκάλιζε με καπνό στον ουρανό καθως εκτελούσε τις περίπλοκες φιγούρες του σε ένα σαραβαλιασμένο γερμανικό αεροσκάφος; Ή που σκιαγραφούν τον ηγέτη των ultras της Μπόκα, βίαιο και τρυφερό νεαρό που μοίραζε στην είσοδο των γηπέδων τα πολυγραφημένα - και σήμερα δυσεύρετα - αντίτυπα των ποιητικών συλλογών του με ευφάνταστους τίτλους όπως "Χεστείτε Λαγοί";
Ο μακροσκελής κατάλογος επινοημένων, κακομοιρηδων μετρίων (ή οχι και τόσο μετρίων) ποιητών της άκρας δεξιάς δεν είναι απλώς ένα φλύαρο παιχνίδι που συνέλαβε ο ιδιοφυής εγκέφαλος του Bolaño για να σκοτώνει την ώρα του.
Πρόκειται για την πιο εξυπνη, πικρόχολη, (αυτό)σαρκαστική, και κάποτε ανοιχτά μνησίκακη, ειρωνεία που έχει ποτέ εκτοξευθεί εναντίον της σοβαροφανούς και εξαιρετικά φαντασμένης συντεχνίας των συγγραφέων - ναζιστών ή μη!
Αριστούργημα που γίνεται ακόμα πιο απολαυστικό εάν στη θέση των εκκεντρικών χαρακτήρων που περνούν μπροστά από τα μάτια μας αρχίζεις να βάζεις υπαρκτές φιγούρες της σύγχρονης (Λατίνο)αμερικανικής λογοτεχνικής ελίτ, από ιερά τέρατα της προοδευτικής ιντελιγκέντσια έως ξεμωραμένους υπερσυντηρητικούς γέροντες στυλοβάτες της παγκόσμιας λογοτεχνίας!
Απλά τέλειο
October 27, 2017
Bolaño'nun özellikle edebiyat ve arayış temasına yerleşen kitaplarına hayranlık duyuyorum. Tabii kendisinin zorlama olduğunu düşündürmeyen asi, kışkırtıcı, karanlık ve bununla eğlendiren dil kullanımına da. Nazi Literature in the Americas da kafamdaki bu olgulara yerleşiyor. Okuduğum kitaplarından 2666 ve Vahşi Hafiyeler ile temelde olmasa bile parçasal ilişkiler içeriyor. Nitekim kitapta Benno Von Archimboldi yok ama bir şekilde olsaydı bana garip gelmezdi. (Gerçi Archimboldi bir Nazi sempatizanı değildi ama olsun.) Kitap strüktür olarak The Biographical Dictionary of Literary Failure ile bir hayli benzerlik taşıyor. Ki o da bayılarak okunabilecek bir antolojidir. Fakat Bolaño bu hayali antolojiye güçlü bir inançla epilog oluşturmuş. Yazara aşina olan biri için tam da ''Sen yok musun sen!'' dedirtecek tavırlar. Kütüphanede yine aradığımı bulamazken iyi ki Bolaño göz kırpmış. Tek olumsuz yönü henüz Türkçe'ye çevrilmemiş olmasıydı, umarım en kısa zamanda çevrilir. Bu sayede göndermeleri daha iyi anlarım.
August 2, 2019
This novel is a brilliantly-conceived OuLiPo-style formal game: it's a collection of short biographies of imaginary Nazi writers from Chile to Canada from the nineteen thirties well into the twenty-first century (some years after the date of the novel's publication!). Probably the inspiration for the non-narrative format, French writer Georges Perec, is name-checked--and Bolano himself has a kind of cameo in the last chapter/bio. Along the way the short bios cleverly weave in many of the cultural touchstones that go hand-in-hand with Nazism: football, serial killing, woman/foreigner hating and racism, failed machismo, aviation, and economic humiliation, the red scare etc., etc. There's also--surprisingly--plenty of variety and commentary on the varying aspects of Spanish, German, and Italian fascism, as well as variety in the type of writing, from autobiography to formal verse, soccer memoir to science fiction, it's all here. Nicely done, a hoot to read.
January 21, 2025
hilarious, scathing, caustic, intermittently devastating. the brief recounting of an unrequited lesbian romance in an early chapter is masterful, retaining the encyclopedic form while still letting through glimmers of aching humanity. when bolaño starts to let those conventions slide in the back end things get really transcendent, and the final story has me scrambling to read its expanded form in “distant star.” and i really can’t overstate how funny it can be — the US-based science fiction writer whose enormous revisionist history masterpiece flops so hard he’s forced to a life of copywriting for wargames is both a caricature and a laser-focused evisceration. i feel like i could talk about this all day and it’s been a minute since i felt that way about a book.
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