Literary World Cup: the Bloodbuzzed Team!

The mighty and referential Penguin Books have created the Penguin Cup, where indispensable authors from 16 of the world’s literary giants battle out for supremacy. A quite funny way to talk about books when everything you read, talk and see is football and more football (happily the World Cup will be over in less than a week).

It was impossible for me to resist the temptation of making my own team, here it is: the Bloodbuzzed team. I'm pretty sure it would be unbeatable!

"On the Road", Half the Trip

On the Road

Very important remark. Can't think of many books as hard to adapt into a film as "On the Road". I admit the task Walter Salles assumed was enormous. It's not just having to decide where to make "the cuts" on Kerouac's "sacred" novel to make the movie flow. It's also weighing what's still meaningful or relevant for today's spectators. Plus capturing an essence, a vibe. In my modest opinion (as you know, a devoted fan of the novel) the film is interesting, but not what I was looking for.

In my opinion the biggest flaw of "On the Road", the film, is the lack of "spirit". Lifeless might be a word too strong, but Kerouac, imo, wrote his most famous book with a passion still unmatched in literature (American and worldwide literature). His prose was a torrent, a compendium of emotional bursts, the voice of anxiety, innocence (there was no cynicism on Kerouac's writings), despair, joyful madness and youth. Can't see any of that vital prose on Salles' adaptation. I always wanted to meet Sal Paradise (Jack Kerouac) and Dean Moriarty (Neal Cassady). But not these particular Sal and Dean. The reader was absorbed by Kerouac's words. The viewer is distracted, at best, occasionally intrigued, by the movie development.

For me, the movie tries to balance, often with unfortunate results, between the most concise summary possible of the trips throughout the States (and Mexico) Sal and Dean made, and showing what was like to be a beatnik. First, in what regards to the "summary", the cuts create a disjointed and sparse film if compared with the "truth" of the book, but as I said on the first paragraph, the task of adapting "On the Road" to the screen was titanic, so I can understand that, despite it wouldn't be my choices (fidelity to the original), Salles is able to provide the film a cohesive, maybe superficial but cohesive, narrative structure.

Second, on what was like to be a beatnik, I find interesting how dark and somber the look (sex, drugs, the feeling of being lost or out of control) is in what regards to the unique couple and the relevance given to the females surrounding them. Salles gives Marylou a tremendous importance, making Kristen Stewart's role (powerful performance), the most attractive character of the film. Same can be said about Camille, played by Kirsten Dunst, despite her little amount of scenes. Both characters challenge their roles compared with what they got in the book. But these two, plus Carlo Marx (Allen Ginsberg), performed by Tom Sturridge, are the exceptions. The majority of characters are weak, whimsical, one dimensional. Old Bull Lee (William Burroughs), played by Viggo Mortensen and Jane (Joane Vollmer) played by Amy Adams are specially irritating.

I'm pretty sure that I wasn't going to be completely satisfied whatever the case, but I believe "On the Road" is, despite some interest, a missed opportunity. We can argue about structure or film development, and I will agree Salles was brave enough to take risks, but what's more important about Kerouac's book here is completely gone: the engagement, the fascination he provoked, and still provokes, to the readers.

SCORE: 5,75/10

"The Da Vinci Code", Silly Childish Games

The Da Vinci Code- Dan Brown

I was forced to read this book. I had to because I’m enrolled on a Professional Reading course and it was part of our homework. And I was quite scared to start reading…Terrified. Let’s just say (being extremely polite) my expectations were quite low from the very beginning. I was so right, what an atrocious shame “The Da Vinci Code” is.

Dan Brown is a disastrous writer. It’s hard for me to think on a worse pen than his. Surprisingly lame and empty, with a never ending amount of Wikipedia descriptions (places, historic sites, and pieces of art abound) and the WEAKEST effort on the characters I have ever seen (read) in my entire life. Robert Langdon and Sophie Neveu could had been easily replaced by character X and character Y, and the result would have been exactly the same. Secondary roles include an albino troubled villain, a mysterious butler, an eccentric millionaire devoted to find the Holy Grail, some high members of the church and the police. Yeah, you're right. It looks like "Clue", the traditional game, mixed with a bit of "Carmen Sandiego" and "Where’s Waldo". As a matter of fact, it looks too much like them. Childish games.

If character development and author’s prose are pathetic, at least the story development has to be amazing and absorbing, one might think. Well, I guess that’s debatable and personal. Did you enjoy series like "X-Files" or "Friday the 13th"? Then you will probably enjoy "The Da Vinci Code". The whole book is structured in the same way. Take notes, here's the recipe for a best-seller. Chapter begins, main characters are in front of “something relevant” that turns out to be a sudoku, a puzzle. They think about it, they speculate. Then someone has the illumination and finds the answer. But, while there’s an enigma that’s resolved, another one is created. Repeat the structure for more than a hundred chapters. Add a glimpse of a thriller so there’s a menace pressing the resolution of the detectivesque mysteries, plus a completely unbelievable plot, a worldwide conspiracy, that involves Opus Dei and the Catholic Church. And you got it. Don't forget to sell the rights to Hollywood as soon as you can.

I’m so puzzled this book was such a huge phenomenon, one that was the main reason of the spreading fever of this sort of pseudo-religious-historic novels, because to me is just silly and pointless. As I assume you have read the book and/or seen the movie (something that I will try to avoid at all costs) I guess I’m not spoiling much. You built the biggest of plot against humanity ever put in paper just to retreat at the very end? Was Brown too scared about the Church reaction? Did he realise the whole plot is absurd? The haunt of the Grail, the use of the Knights Templar and the art of Da Vinci might provide a morbid curiosity for many, but it all converges on a happy ending that is absolutely ridiculous. Maybe reading the book helps people to be more interested about history and art, or perhaps contributes on people giving a thought on the “official history” and its construction. I don’t know, I’m just trying to figure out arguments on why the book was such a success. To me it was just a waste of time.

SCORE: 1/10

"Mooch", Appetite for (Self)-Destruction

Mooch- Dan Fante

It's my third "encounter" with Dan Fante, so I can't say I didn't know what to expect. Maybe it's the fact I read Milan Kundera's utterly forgettable "Laughable Loves" before and the contrast was so extreme. In what regards to tone, theme and style, "Mooch" is familiar territory and there's little to be surprised... but it's so simple: reading Dan Fante is such a blast!

It's the black hole again. The kamikaze, suicidal tendencies. The feeling of supreme desperation and the need to hold on something too tight... you already lost it. Fante doesn't write, he punches the reader, he beats you and leaves you breathless, wondering for some relief, some little mercy and hope for his character Bruno Dante (too real alter-ego), and make no mistake, also for you, as you’ll find yourself scared to turn the page and find there's more real horror awaiting you.

In “Mooch” though, it seems there's a little light at the end of the long and dark-crazy tunnel. First there's a salesman job at Orbit Computer Supplies, nothing remotely similar to a position you would dream of, but still a place to get stable and earn some money. Fante depicts the job with a medical precision, but don’t think on Bukowski here, this is not “Post Office”. Orbit is frightening, his work colleagues are frightening and the twelve-step program is always there. But for a while, Bruno really seems he could be capable to succeed. He's sober, he's good at it, and he falls in love. Well, kind of. Is that love? Another insane addiction? Masochism? Or just another way to push him towards self-destruction? Jimmi is perennial attraction and also the road to perdition. Bruno flirts with disaster. Then he lets the disaster come in. And the gates of hell are wide open again.

As it happened with “Chump Change” or “Fante: A Family’s legacy of…” the terrible, ill-fated turns into a surveillance tale. It doesn’t have a redeeming quality this time, because is Bruno who is finally trying to get in control of his life, there’s a change, tortuous and full of struggles, but a change. The world “built” around him is shaky and explosive, and, as the reader can expect, fails him. Nevertheless, Bruno will probably manage. The "Chump Change" coward who preferred self-destruction instead of confronting its fears is now gone, replaced by someone brave enough to try living. I’m very dubious to call it a positive, or just a hopeful ending, but at least “Mooch” leaves you, at least wanting to believe, a future could exist for Dante.

As the story, Dan Fante’s prose take no prisoners. You are in, or you are out. It’s straightforward, rough, crystal clear and powerful. If you read Fante, you’ll be there, right in the middle of a suffocating L.A., and you probably get hurt. Like his father John Fante (I see the reasons of “Mooch” being compared with “Ask the Dust”) his prose will grab you as very few writers can. I strongly recommend you to read Dan Fante. Dare you to read him.

SCORE: 7,5/10

"Kerouac and the Beat Generation", Friends & Lovers

Kerouac and the Beat Generation (Kerouac et la Beat Generation. Une enquête, French original title)- Jean-François Duval

Who would have guessed? Don't want to sound pedantic, but I have devoted a very remarkable amount of my time reading about the beat generation, so, being honest, when I received "Kerouac and the Beat Generation" (a birthday gift) I thought it was going to be a waste of time. How wrong I was.

Jean-François Duval looks to me like the quintessential beat obsessed, but he is wise enough to use his vast knowledge on the subject to look for something else. He doesn't aim to build yet another chronicle of the times and lives of the Beats, but instead, find the surviving "starrings" of these era and let them speak, allowing them to explain, to unveil a vivid picture of the Beats, as revealing as refreshing.

Shifting the focus from the investigator/author to the opinions of the people interviewed makes "Kerouac" a lightweight and engaging read. But that doesn't make the book "simple". On the contrary, different personalities result on a very complete, multi-directional, look to the Beats. In particular on his most famous member: Jack Kerouac. The six personalities interviewed can be divided into two categories. First, the survivors: close friend and pivotal member of the movement (although it is dubious there was one) Allen Ginsberg, plus Carolyn Cassady, Neal Cassady's wife, and Joyce Johnson, both once Kerouac lovers. And second the "next generation beats", counterculture propelled by the first beats, like poet Anne Waldman, LSD guru-icon Timothy Leary and Ken Kesey, writer and Merry Prankster leader, arguably the one who tried to make "On the Road" a larger-than-life experience outside Kerouac's pages (and with too many drugs involved). Duval has read it all, so he knows what the questions must be, but that means he knows (we know) the real story? The answer is not really.

For a confessed fan like myself, it was puzzling to realise we have been living with the myth, the image portrayed by the books and the impact-influence of their literature, as well as the supposed aesthetics-attitudes related to it, believing that was the truth. Well, that's the constructed truth, half the truth if you prefer. Jack Kerouac slowly killed himself because he couldn't get along with his myth. Cassady, in the words of his wife, was a guy struck between his father-husband obligations and his will to explore the world. Kesey and Leary wanted to go "Further" not because they were experimenting with drugs, but because they were convinced life as we know it is not all it should be. In a way, America needed the Beats to offer a definition of the changes the country was going through, building a generation from very different personalities, literary ambitions and attitudes... I can go on, but I don't want to spoil "Kerouac", a book that, needless to say, is incredibly absorbing, and also one that I'm sure will stimulate more reads.

My only complaint about the book? Longer, I wish it had been much much longer!

SCORE: 9/10

"The Great Gatsby", Fitzgerald for Dummies

The Great Gatsby

I knew this was going to happen. I really saw this review coming. And I was right. Ouch, that hurts beyond what's bearable...

Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe director Baz Luhrmann is a visionary. Maybe he just made this awful, incredibly simplistic and shallow film just to attract the youngster generation. Maybe he thought "look at these kids, they cannot read more than their whattsup one-liners. We need to bring them the best stories, in this case one of the finest examples of American literature, in a language they can understand". In Luhrmann's opinion, I believe, that means reducing Fitzgerald's book to a one-line plot: incredibly rich millionaire gives amazing parties but he's unhappy because he can't have the chick he loves. Period.  I imagine Luhrmann adding: "Now kids, here's the lesson to learn, the profound message I'm offering you in this film, so try to be focused: even the richest cry sometimes. Astonishing, right? You don't have to thank me. I'm just that great". Well Baz, NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO.

Sure. Even the less smart of the Smartphone users can get Luhrmann's only idea on his "The Great Gatsby". But that doesn't mean they will have even the less remote clue of what was Fitzgerald's masterpiece about. It's not a question of being faithful or not to the original text (it was ages ago, but I do remember being extremely bored with Robert Redford's Gatsby version, and believe me, few books are more moving and engaging). It's just that he has decided to go for the most superficial, to an incongruous extreme, take of the book. It's all surface, as bombastic, flamboyant and 3-D as you want, but with less than zero insight. So, even you don't give a damn about the adaptation of the original story, what you get is so shallow that you won't get a film that's worth the effort either. "The Avengers" might have the same amount of depth than this Gatsby. And that's unacceptable.

Granted, "The Great Gatsby" first half is a visual feast in the vein of "Molin Rouge" (but now on 3-D folks!, so go to cinema and pay even more for that!). But exclusively visual. From the very beginning, characters are introduced and then completely ruined. A good actor like Tobey Maguire makes the dumbest impersonation of Nick Carraway I could ever imagine. He just stays there, mouth open, a silly kid enlightened by the exotism, the noise, the chicks, the confetti and grandeur of his neighbour. That's not the character Fitzgerald wrote. At all. Carey Mulligan's as Daisy deserves a separate comment. Don't know if that's Luhrmann, Mulligan or both fault, but what a disastrous performance. Exactly in the same vein as she did in "Shame", without the suicidal tendencies, with the similar annoyingly results. DiCaprio, the only remarkable of the film (and the reason the rating below isn't lower) makes a vivid impersonation of Gatsby, that grows from the shameful "perfume advertising" first looks to a much somber character, much closer to the troubled, complex and absorbing character Fitzgerald penned. Still, Di Caprio is alone, so he can't help the feeling he's performing on a ridiculously expensive and lush but fake and empty set. Fitzgerald's were powerful, extremely rich yet still misterious, obscure, not very likeable yet absorbing characters. Human contradictions, ambitions and miseries revealed. Nothing to do with this. The National's Matt Berninger penned the perfect definition for the characters you'll find on the film: "a television version of a person with a broken heart". Fakers.    

There's more to rant about. Of course, the music. We get it, partying is partying, but being a film directed to kids it's better to go for a much modern, cooler soundtrack, full of Jay-Z, Beyoncé and Will.I.Am... well hell no Baz. You did quite well (at least watchable) with "Romeo & Juliet" before with the soundtrack... because you translated Shakespeare story to a contemporary context, but not this time. Do you know what the Jazz Age means? Jazz is a very important part of the context where the story takes place... oh sorry, I forgot the director didn't care about the story. Ok, let's change the subject .Transitions. Hard to remember a film worse constructed. First, a lame lame trick so Nick Carraway can explain his insane fascination for Gatsby, so flashbacks are justified. Second, you can film as many flamboyant, flashy or slow-motioned dancing scenes you want, but they should carry you somewhere, or are we just contemplating a terribly long videoclip? Third, I can't remember just a drastic change in tempo and mood in any film seen in a long time. Party is over, so then let's go for a romantic drama. Drastically. And fourth, symbols should be subtle, if not become seriously upsetting there's no need to repeat once and again adverts or the green light. We got it. The kids too.

So, If you believe "The Great Gatsby" needed an adaptation for our digital age where information MUST fit in your mobile phone, then you have reasons to celebrate. Luhrmann has nailed it. But if you don't want to watch this "Fitzgerald for Dummies" version, just stick with the book. Have some faith in the kids next time Baz.

SCORE: 2/10

"On The Road", life in miles per hour

On The Road- Jack Kerouac

This is not just "another" read for me. As a matter of fact, this is one of MY BOOKS, so this couldn't be a "regular" review. To talk about a literary myth for so many people seems a bit pointless imo, as I can't pretend to offer a new, revealing analysis of a novel that has been, so rightly so, canonized as one of the must-reads of the past century and a countercultural reference. So I can only offer something I do know better than anyone else regarding this book: my relation with it.

I was 16 years old, having holidays in Andalusia with my family (plus my aunts and cousins, a little wild bunch of teenager-kids) and to be honest, a bit bored. Never been the party-goer type (as my older relatives there) and I couldn't stand some sort of "family behaviors" (looong story that doesn't really fit here). Anyway, one day I was wandering around the town with my father when we found a bookstore (he was looking for a local author he couldn't find in Barcelona), but we also got something for me. That something was Scott Fitzgerald's "The Great Gatsby" and (I don't care if it sounds corny or movie-bland to you) showed me a new world, opened me a door, still wide open. The truth is that I chose the book because by then I was beginning an obsession with a very particular list (everyone who knows me knows about my list-addiction problem), a quite pompous list on The Best Books of the 20th Century, of course done by a very important editorial, etc, etc*. Fitzgerald's was number 2.

Shocked as it was by the novel, after finishing it I didn't know what was going to be the next one. My father had the answer prepared for me. "I saw you list and I remembered I had this one at home. I brought it with me because I want it to read it again. Maybe you should have a look to it. I think it would like you". Of course, the novel was "On The Road". Boom! I crossed "the door" opened by Fitzgerald and never looked back. Next came "The Subterraneans", "The Catcher On the Rye", "The Heart Is A Lonely Hunter"... and a never-ending list (more or less my own) since then. Bye-bye silly (other would say canonical) Spanish and Catalan high-school reads. Hello American literature.

But "On the Road" was much more than that. I didn't just like the book. It became a sort of companion. A landmark, a myth, a way of acknowledging there's, or at least there can be, something more. A remembrance that life should be lived, or at least could be lived, differently. A very special gift I gave once, an also an always desired trip... that finally I'm doing, with the best company I could ever imagine. So what better time to re-read than when coming to California, so ready and eager to be "on the road" trying to follow some of Moriarty and Paradise's steps?

But I do admit I was afraid too. Would the book resist the proof of time? Would I have grow-up too much for it? What if I don't feel the same anymore while reading? Soon I realised I didn't have to worry. Not only time hasn't taken its toll on Kerouac's work and what's contained in its pages is still valid today. No, it goes beyond that. What was a revelation for a teenager now has become a serious slap in the face for a grown-up. The innocence, the naivety is gone, replaced by what sometimes is harsh truth. Because behind all the craziness and fascinating trips around the vast and dreamy landscape of America, there's an individual rebellion of two souls willing to live their own lives, dying every time they find themselves living the lives of the others (the American Dream, the way that "live should be", as we have been told and learnt). The road is the only place where they are capable to articulate their freedom. Some measure their existence in money, others in properties or the number of kids. Paradise and Moriarty in miles per hour. The destination doesn't matter, what matters is to keep moving, trying to find oneself. Still a very particular lesson for everyone. Or at least, for me. Boom again!

SCORE: This book changes lives   

* Of course, I still have that list.

"A Writer's Life", a journalistic mess

A Writer's Life- Gay Talese

As much as I believe Gay Talese's prose is masterful and his ability to find and chronicle a story is unparalelled, I'm afraid to say that with "A Writer's Life" this amazing journalist has descended to Earth, revealing us the worst of his art, offering us a book that, contrary to "Honor Thy Father" or "Portraits and Encounters", amazingly absorbing reads, is quite mundane, even tedious to follow at times.

And that's a shame, because it could have worked. "A Writer's Life" aims to be a memoir of a veteran journalist looking back to some of his "adventures". But there’s very little of his personal life, and the book quickly evolves into something else, an unexpected account of Talese's failures, his shortcomings to find a story that his bosses would die to put in paper, or his inability to close his latest book. That could have been challenging and exciting, such a gifted writer showing us how hard it is to "wait for the click", as The National would say on personal favouite "City Middle".

But with few exceptions, this book is not capable of transmitting that doubt, weakness, lack of luck, bad timing or writer's block when facing a potentially good story. And it's because -and that's tough for me to say, as I admire Talese so much- of the author's ego and his self-indulgence. Instead Talese offers a monumental digression of 600 pages where he recapitulates and reworks pieces and bits of previous, unfinished or left behind stories, adding personal notes or wikipedia-like-facts. It's arbitrary, and despite at the end everything seems to connect, it's incoherent as a whole. As a book, it's simply weak. Again sorry to put my thoughts in words, but I believe this is just a packed compilation of material to fulfill a contract.

There are horrible passages. In particular I couldn't go on with the whole story of the restaurants, so pointless even Talese is incapable of not much more of accumulating notes for almost three decades -just a bunch of pages finished by 1999-. Others are much interesting, like the one in Selma regarding civil rights and liberties of the Afro-American people, the Lorena Bobbit trial or the one about the Chinese player Liu Ying. But this latest story is a clear example of the serious problem this book has with its structure. Talese clearly didn't think much about order his account of failed stories, so the trip to China appears quite early on the book, then vanishes for hundreds and hundreds of pages just to reappear at the very end. The effect is quite strange, to say the least.

Even masters can fail.

SCORE: 4,75/10

"Young Hearts Crying", life's constant defeat

Young Hearts Crying- Richard Yates

Spanish readers, we have to celebrate the works from Richard Yates keep being published regularly after decades of being an ignored author. We are getting close to have them fully now. The last to arrive is "Young Hearts Crying", one of his latest novels (1984) and in my opinion, arguably his most pessimistic and depressive.

And considering Yates' works that's a lot to say. The two books previously reviewed on this blog, "A Good School" and "A Special Providence" were very sad already but nothing compared with "Young Hearts Crying". Sure, the novel might not be as devastating or crude as his masterpieces "Revolutionary Road" or the "Easter Parade", but it might be his most ambitious in what refers to scope, character development, subjects and sub-plots. And because of these shows a comprehensive view of life that is absolutely merciless: life is just a constant disappointment, a never-ending defeat.

Yates' characters have no option in "Young Hearts Crying". Lucy and Michael are portrayed to detail from the day they met to decades after. In a period that comprises more than two decades, from 1950s to the 70s, we have all the ingredients: social class, courtship, marriage, friendship, sentimental relations, sex, divorce, kids, artistic ambitions, work, madness, isolation, social and political changes... All poignant failures, all fears.

Yet despite being a book a bit too long, or having some subplots not that interesting -Lucy's hippie affair in my opinion, although it serves the purpose of portraying the decay of Michael latest relation-, Yates ability to knock you out, to dissect and find the perfect short sentence or brutal dialogue is unparalleled. One can also say that in this novel he finds a more direct voice. He is disarmingly real, the development of his characters is always vivid. But I can't help thinking this book must say a lot about the author's view of the world, of existence. Because there's barely nothing positive to hold on to inside this pages. Instead, you can even feel a certain rage, an inner turmoil that some times gets verbalised in the rants and thoughts of Michael Davenport. Social class and art receive the most harsh invectives, as well as the sad look to human relations that are Yates' trademark.

The American Dream has been and still is a recurrent subject on literature. But there's no other author capable of demolishing the dream with so much accuracy and realism than Richard Yates. Even if it hurts. And it does.

SCORE: 7/10

"On the Yard", every prison's blues

On the Yard- Malcolm Braly

Spanish literature lovers: we should all celebrate the existence of this refreshing and flourishing small editorials like Libros del Asteroide, Blackie Books, Libros del Silencio or Sajalín, to name a few, who are giving us the chance of discovering modern and classic authors that were neglected by the majors, who prefer to keep with their regular publishing of all kinds of rubbish instead.

This time Sajalín bring us a major American novel, praised by totems like Kurt Vonnegut as "surely the great American prison novel". Originally published in 1967 and recently back in print (with the inclusion of an epilogue by the mesmerizing author Jonathan Lethem), "On the Yard" is a unique take, surprisingly penetrating and deep on psychology, of the penitentiary world. A microcosm of their own.

Author Malcolm Braly knew what he was writing about. He spent more than twenty years in prison, and wrote the book while spending his days in San Quentin. That personal experience explains his ability to go further that usual in this quite familiar ground. Books and cinema of the life in jail abound, but very very few with that level of insight on the prison's dynamics and foremost, on the minds of the prisoners. Linked with that comes my only real concern on the book: the omniscient narrator has no limits to write how each prisoner or worker feels, but the voice that tells the stories is frequently much more cultivated, miles away, than his characters. To me, in such a realist piece of work, it seems a considerable flaw.

Anyway, let's continue with its many virtues. We are used to prison tales about heroes and villains, violence and redemption. "On the Yard" shift the focus to complex human beings who have/try to carry on with their ordinary lives inside the walls of the prison. Its a place of desperation, depression and survival. Braly's prose is masterful in recreating a vibe, an atmosphere, even a rhythm in what refers to the prisoner's dialogues. The reader could say there are moments where he/she feels part of it. Thanks that's not the case.

The whole picture of the prison is a very discouraging one. There's a lot of fear inside, and violence seems the only resource it can be used to confront it. The structure of the book intertwines the stories of a dozen of prisoners all around Chilly Willy, unarguably the self-proclaimed "boss", the head of the prison, responsible black market and corruption that seems to give him and his core virtual immunity. But we soon realise that's not the real centerpiece of "On the Yard". Braly uses ambivalence and distance, even some peculiar irony, a humour that is part of the exclusive logic of the prison to reduce the dose of desolation, despair and traumatised minds that conform the real truth of the small universe. It's raw, but there are occasional moments of tenderness. It's crude, but you can laugh. It has its own rules and logic. And Malcolm Braly is capable of showing everything all to us.

SCORE: 7/10

"The Stories of Breece D'J Pancake", on desolation row

The Stories of Breece D'J Pancake (Trilobites, Spanish translation) Breece D'J Pancake

"I give you my word of honor that he is merely the best writer, the most sincere writer I've ever read. What I suspect is that it hurt too much, was no fun at all to be that good. You and I will never know."

Kurt Vonnegut on Breece D'J Pancake

You read words like these from a wonderful author like Vonnegut (among several others, all acclaiming the completely unknown writer) and you cannot escape from curiosity, so you put the name on the "search list", and, eventually, you get your hands over its work. In the case of Pancake, his only book, as he took his life when he was just 26. Only 12 short fiction stories, six previously published.

His stories are unusual. The environment, that hostile West Virginia (where he lived) is scary and desolated. And the characters involved in their tales are people who might not feel miserable, but look like it for reader. Life is a trap, and doesn't seem to be much hope out there either, so it's not really worth the trying.  And the ones who try, like the "former young punk" Colly in the title story "Trilobites" return as "I was so damned mad". And the third recurrent element in Pancake's stories is violence. Guns are everywhere, and even when there are no physical acts, the threat of violence is ever-present. 

But these three factors alone couldn't make me qualify this book as unusual. What strikes me the most, for the good and the bad, is the tone of this collection. Pancake's prose is oblique, sometimes odd, even dreamy, and almost always painful. It's hard to put in words, but the author is capable of creating a mood and making you feel uncomfortable while he describe these mundane and sad lives, without really giving us much information or concrete detail. A couple of stories are even hard to specify what are really about, but the sense of damage and reading about damaged people is notorious. Depression and frustration are the words that comes to my mind. And seeing how Pancake took his life, it's puzzling. Frightening.

Being honest, I couldn't say I enjoyed reading "Trilobites" a lot. To me it was about sensations and not really about stories. But I wouldn't dare to criticise this book either, as I admit that in terms of impact, this book keeps going in my mind. Very peculiar and captivating stuff. Read it with care.

SCORE: 6/10

"Fante", reality bites of literature and alcohol

Fante: A Family's Legacy of Writing, Drinking and Surviving
Dan Fante

I have no idea why I am crazy and angry and edged-out most of the time and why alcohol and painkiller pills and Xanax-type stuff are the only things that help to keep me remotely calm. I have no idea why I experience life as pointless and screwed and I know that most people don't pour a cup of bourbon into their milk and oatmeal in the morning. That's just how it is. 

Dan Fante, "86'd"

Four sentences to define a life of self-destruction that, surprisingly, becomes also a story of surveillance and passion for literature. Dan Fante's biography is an unusual one, because mixes his own, suicidal life, with the story of his ancestors and, in particular his father, the great writer John Fante. The tale is terrible, ill-fated and full of booze, but there's also space for redemption and change.

With that trademark's straightforward way of writing, Fante's memoirs are darker than a black hole. And the parallel lines between father and son are always present. The frustration and bliss, and if you allow me to say it, their self-condemnation, as it was always fate had dictated for them. But the paths taken are very different. John sold himself to Hollywood, so he could pay the bills, form a family that he didn't take much care of, and life comfortably but in anger. A man of his time (40-50s) with a gifted prose that, ironically, only was recognised (Bukowski you are next in line of my readings) when he was approaching his (cruel and suffering) death. On the contrary, Dan never seemed to find his own way, a blistering road to nowhere and incredible suffering, until redemption and literature settled him down.

The fragmented structure, shifting between father and son (biggest part of the book) is hyper-addictive. A number of chapters, paragraphs, sentences, are memorable, deeply affecting (in a shocking or a touching, emotional way) and the tension of a life constantly looking to the horizon from the edge of the cliff is always palpable. You might not like the Fante's as persons after reading their story, but the level of exposure, the absolute lack of pretensions of presenting himself (or his father) as some sort of hero that "came back from the dark side", reveals a gigantic human heart, with all their contradictions, miseries and hunger for living.

I have some minor complaints, though. I would have loved some more chapters devoted to John Fante and his writings, as well as their relation with Hollywood. Also, a bit more on his mother,  Joyce, who is clear plays a pivotal role but is too blurred in the biography in my opinion, would have been necessary. I became a bit exhausted with Dan's recurrent cycles of self-destruction, to be honest, and its hard to me to understand how he finally defeated his addiction. I don't believe in miracles.  

But as I said before, there's no self-pity, victimisation, apologies, excuses or preaching here. So take it or leave it, because that's the way it is. And as everything coming from Fante's (both father and son) prose, I sincerely recommend you to grab it. These are monstrous reality bites, a reality that hurts a lot. But you might even win the fight, if you try.

SCORE: 7,5/ 10

"Everything Here Is the Best Thing Ever", blurred snapshots of youth

Everything Here Is the Best Thing Ever: Stories- Justin Taylor

I will never lean. How many writers have been celebrated on the back covers of their debut books as the new Carver? And why I keep reading them, hoping to discover a new literary hero? That's unfair for the writer, and after reading the book, on a 99% of the cases, unfair for the reader.

Because "Everything Here Is the Best Thing Ever" by Justin Taylor is not a bad collection of stories. On the contrary. Taylor's voice is quite unique: sharp, bittersweet and distant, yet skilled and polished (poetic glimpses included). Modern minimalism? New dirty realism? Labels here harm a quite cohesive and remarkable young writer. Taylor shouldn't be compared with giants, but highlighted as a quite refreshing author of his very own.

"Everything Here..." is purposely blurred. Don't expect answers of definitive endings. The fifteen stories included are just snapshots of the lives of confused young people, that would qualify as isolated losers, in which age, religion and identity are recurrent topics. Underground and counterculture might be the ground Taylor is showing us, but forget any heroics in their actions. On the contrary, a silent desolation will predominantly arise. I find the contrast between straight and frank narration and the inner turmoil of the characters quite exciting. There's sweetness but also rawness on their stories, something I believe proves Taylor's ability (and promise) to capture feelings and emotions and put the on paper. My concern has to do with the final results, with the impact of each story, for me too uneven.

That's the problem with Taylor's stories. Some, like the brief “The Jealousy of Angels”, "Tetris", or "Weekends Away" passed completely unnoticed for me. The ones with the anarchist (or just bored?) David were flat, with the lack of passion that is the "trending topic" of actual literature (that modern, frequently annoying tick) doing little favour to their very fragile characters. “Jewels Flashing in the Night of Time” might be worst of the lot, plain awful.

On the other hand, there's a bunch of stories to be remembered, like the solid "Tennessee", in which Jewishness is the background of a fierce father-and-son tale. Or in "What Was Once All Yours”, takes the subject of abortion from a male perspective, giving the emotionally charged topic a new approach. “New Life” does wonders with the redemption of a hopelessly in love kid. Or like “Whistle Through Your Teeth and Spit”, where the end of a peculiar coffee house is a phenomenal excuse to portray the bunch of regular (and outcasts) clients.

At times extremely interesting, despite the uneven impact / quality of this collection of stories, "Everything Here Is the Best Thing Ever" is a quite promising first approach to Justin Taylor's work, and also an intriguing attempt to show the miseries, as well as the hopes, of young characters striving to find their space within mankind.

SCORE: 5,75/10

"A Good School", sad learnings from high school

A Good School- Richard Yates

It already happened to me when I read, then reviewed "A Special Providence". The emotion of having another book from master Richard Yates, being engaged by it while devouring it, and once the times come for the analysis, finding it a minor piece from the author.

Being honest, I'm pretty sure that sort of (minor) let down is the consequence of Yates being responsible of two undeniable masterpieces of modern contemporary literature: "Revolutionary Road" and "The Easter Parade". "A Good School" cannot compare with these two amazing novels. But still, we are in front of another very solid work, and of course, really recommendable.

Yet another factor in these aforementioned let down could be the lack of originality on the premise and development of the novel. How many remarkable books have been constrained into the walls of boarding schools? Salinger and Tobias Wolff to name just two unmissable authors. But that judgement would be a bit unfair. Yates, as expected from such a unique writer is capable of transmitting something completely personal to the book: a genuine sadness. In my imaginary world of music and literary connections, The National composed "Sorrow" for Richard Yates. 

From the very beginning, the reader will have the feeling student William Grove is some sort of Yates' alter ego, something that is almost confirmed at the end of the novel. And from page one, the chronicle of the high school years at the Dorset Academy are marked by sadness. Despite II World War has a direct effect on the students, wouldn't say this is a dramatic book, because Yates style, always using the perfect sentence, without wasting words and letting the reader "fill the gaps", avoids digressions and unnecessary floridnesses. No, the sadness I'm referring its primarily intrinsic to the characters, to the Academy as a whole. 

Yates gives space to various stories to evolve within the novel. Professors trapped into their damaged bodies and hearts, kids that doesn't seem to fit anywhere else, aspirations that are truncated or were just impossible, and the threat of constant failure, finally becoming a reality for the institution. The Dorset Academy is an isolated microcosms, that for a while seems completely separated from real world. But this will hit the place hard in the end, mercilessly. William Grove's story there is one of frustration and lost until he finds his own place: the school newspaper. But this is not a heroic tale of growing up, our leading character finally manages to surface and find his own way almost alone, almost creating a world of his own, full of deadlines and writings, inside of the Dorset small universe.

I can't clearly point out what's lacking on "A Good Novel". The stories seem to converge one final tragedy, that Yates solves again with an incredible, clinical precision, taking benefit of the journalistic sub-plot of the book, and then ends. My guess is that he just wanted to capture a glimpse of, a slice of life, teenage years that abruptly ended, forced by major circumstances and a fated destiny. Or maybe he was just trying to look back to those formation years without any anger or desolation. As I said, recommendable as everything Yates wrote, but far from his masterpieces.

SCORE: 6,75/10 

"In Watermelon Sugar", Richard Brautigan's utopia

In Watermelon Sugar- Richard Brautigan

Some novels are very easy to review. Some others are quite hard. And then, you have Richard Brautigan’s books. “In Watermelon Sugar” might be his hardest work to rate. But I will try.

Brautigan, one of our favourite nuts, said he based the book, published in 1968, on his life in Bolinas during the 60s, a place known for their semi-communal, isolated lifestyle. But I’ll bet you anything Bolinas has nothing to do with the unique landscape where “In Watermelon Sugar” takes place. Let me “welcome” you to iDEATH.

iDEATH seems to the main house/meeting point of some sort of commune where things are made of watermelon sugar, pine wood and stone, each day has a different colored sun and some disturbing things happens. The worst of them, explained by the narrator, being the tension with inBOIL, a man who rebelled against iDEATH, living on the Forgotten Works, a close and forbidden area, where they make whiskey and keep the remnants of a former civilization. Confused? We haven’t finished yet. There are also “The Tigers”, who were (maybe not) real tigers, that were annihilated by people, violence and many deaths, and two love stories, one that ended due to the dramatic turn of events between iDEATH and inBOIL, and another ongoing while the narrator digs deep in the account of the story he is making (he is trying to write). Oh, I forgot to mention the last tiger was killed on a spot that later evolved into a trout farm.

How to interpret “In Watermelon Sugar”? I don’t really know, but the truth is that I keep thinking from time to time, almost two weeks after having finished the book. So at least one thing can be said for sure: its and addictive (admittedly, strangely addictive) work. iDEATH’s environment and origin (the battle against “The Tigers”) could be seen as a post-apocalyptic new beginning for the world. This sort of paradise, where things are made thanks to the interaction with nature, where there’s no money and no possessions, is threatened by inBOIL, “keepers” of the memory (the stuff) of the past civilization. Margaret, the narrator's previous “lover” looks like a very important character to me, representing the person that, raised within iDEATH idiosyncrasy, is tempted by inBOIL’s forgotten stuff. A revision of Eve’s myth betraying the garden Eden? I’m very eager to read your interpretation.

With its brutal end and confusing development, “In Watermelon Sugar” is not a book for anyone. I personally think the absence of humour, one of Brautigan’s trademarks, makes it less enjoyable. The feeling of absurdity and surrealism, ever-present in his books, is still there, but this time, with the metaphorical/allegorical resource, adopts a much “altered” voice. It’s still Brautigan’s deformed mirror, and his braveness and ability to at least try to reinvent literature. But I miss his ability for making me laugh while he shows how stupid we, humans, have become.

SCORE: 6,25/10

"When the Nines Roll Over", the unmagnificent lives of adults

When the Nines Roll Over and Other Stories- David Benioff

A very nice surprise. I had heard/read some very positive reviews of David Benioff's books, and finally got my hands over "When the Nines Roll Over" a collection of eight short stories  that overall results in a very cohesive and solid book, with a very peculiar strength and a feeling of proximity, despite the eclectic range of experiences/situations/context in which their stories take place.

If there's a common link between the eight tales I would say is the "emotional point of no return" that all characters are facing. Benioff's talent for dissecting the turmoil in the existence of their characters in very different situations puzzles me. Whether is using humour or a devastating drama, whether life is mundane or even pathetic or thrilling and adventurous, discovery, loss and that life-revealing moment are just around the corner.

I have also read on another review that "When the Nines Roll Over" summarizes the experiences that characterize modern adult life. Well, I consider myself and adult and I haven't, and don't expect (please) to experience anything remotely similar to what the young Russian soldier Leksi suffers on "The Devil Comes to Orekhovo", one of the most tense and shocking stories of the lot. "Zoantropy" is not your "average story" either, lions in New York are not that usual I think. But despite the peculiar context of several stories, what matters (and in that sense I agree with the aforementioned review) are the feelings and behaviours of the main characters: anger, disarray, love, betrayal, all sort of very recognisable human feelings. As my beloved The National would say, Benioff writes about the "uninnocent elegant falls into the unmagnificient lives of adults". And he does it with brilliance.

The aforementioned two, "The Barefoot Girl in Clover", "Merde for Luck", and the title story "When the Nines Roll Over" are excellent tales. Overall, there's not a single bad story on this collection. I really enjoyed Benioff's style, pretty straightforward without being simplistic, very natural and credible, even despite the "traumatic" situations his characters are suffering. Looking forward to reading more of this author, in particular "The 25th Hour" -an extraordinary film by the way-. Really recommendable.

SCORE: 7,5/10

"A Confederate General from Big Sur", a tale of the pre-hippie America

A Confederate General from Big Sur- Richard Brautigan

Reading Richard Brautigan is such an experience. He is not your average writer, in terms of writing style, structure, storytelling or novel conception. You might have the feeling you don't have any clue where is the novel driving you to, but the ride is so unique and surreal the final destination is completely secondary. Maybe "A Confederate General from Big Sur" is not as explosive as "Trout Fishing in America", but the result is also pure Brautigan, therefore, a joy to read.

Don't get its title confuse you. This is not a novel on the Civil War. But it deals with a more recent period of the USA history: the 60s. With being young and trying to achieve freedom while confronting society and oneself. Brautigan wrote, in his messy and hilarious way, about the pre-hippy era.

But Brautigan never preach, or pontificates. His weapons are surrealism, humour and chaos. No one uses metaphors and similes like he did, and the scenes, while maybe disjointed one from the other, are powerful and enchanting in their own. "A Confederate"'s premise and is simple. Jesse tells us his story/adventure with his pal Lee Mellon, searching for information about Mellon's grandfather, supposedly a general in the Civil War...  But that idea is quickly forgotten, replaced by a tale of the 60s in the Californian landscape. Being Brautigan, the plot and structure is still quite linear. But that doesn't mean he wasn't attempting to subvert the boundaries of literature. So if you were looking for a canonical book, with a defined plot and a satisfying end, this is not for you. Here you will have, more than 100.000 ends. Literally.

It was his first novel, so you can see some confusion, some struggle between his striking lyricism and experimental treatment of fiction and a more traditional prose. But despite its shortcomings, "A Confederate"  offers a rewarding dose of Brautigan's freedom, of Brautigan's reinvention. The reinvention of literature. The reinvention of history, thanks to his "crazy saint" characters, experimenting with free love, drinking, drugs and a sense of rebellion, living and writing their own past and present. The reinvention of humour, used, like Valle-Inclán did, as a factor to deform and question the absurdities of reality. At the end, Brautigan's vision wasn't a happy one, but a very sceptical, even scared look of a world that was becoming more hostile for humanity, thanks to the behaviour of humans. But his books were capable of exposing that contradiction while making us smile.

SCORE: 6,75/10

"Company K", the horror of war

Company K- William March

War-books are quite a recurrent kind on American literature, a few of them being unmissable masterpieces that should be in every good bookshelf. Some personal favourites, together with the stories of Tobias Wolff, are Joseph Heller's "Catch-22", Kurt Vonnegut's "Slaughterhouse-Five", Norman Mailer's "The Naked and the Death" and Tim O'Brien's "The Things They Carried". And from now on, I have to add "Company K" by William March. 

"Company K" works impressively as a piece of WWI literature (seems it was very far from achieving recognition when it was published in 1933), but it cannot be constrained to a period of time. Because William March, an author who was also a veteran of the Great War, offers an outstanding, devastating semi-fictionalized account of a military unit's experiences. 

This incredible, merciless summary of war horrors also surprises in terms of structure, being a complex yet refreshing mechanism. From deployment to years after the war ended, the book is a fragmented collection of personal stories from each member of the unit (before being published as a novel, it was originally serialized in the Forum Magazine). Written in the first person, there are 113 "chapters" in which each soldier of the company tells his own story, from their very different perspectives. They are snippets, a very brief slice of their life, in their very lowest moment. But the sum of voices, together, by accumulation, creates a mesmerizing account of what means being at war. 

And the meaning is clear. War means horror. In this collection of war stories there's chaos, utter panic, desolation, stupidity, atrocities, cruelty, sadness, depression, frustration, rage, insanity. Forget about heroism, honour, patriotism or idealism. All can be summarized in the staggering final sentence of "Soldier Charles Gordon": "Everything they taught me to believe in regards to mercy, justice and virtue is a lie... But "God is Love". That's the worst lie ever invented by humans without any doubt". "Company K" shows that war is fuelled by our darkest instincts. "Each war is the destruction of the human spirit" we read appropriately from Henry Miller's quote at the very end of the book.

March's prose is straightforward, bare, visual, sometimes sardonic (and making me recall Yossarian and Snowden from "Catch-22") and always vivid. He has no time to loose in refinements or sentimentalisms, because he has so much to say, so many soldiers, humans to offer their perspective to the reader, to show how they suffered and how he acted. I'm still petrified with the unparalleled talent of March of saying so much in just a couple, three pages. And when he exceeds that length, it is just to "hit us" even harder. The "Manuel Burt" episode (which seems based in March's own terrible experience), the "Unknown Soldier", or the "Leo Brogan" ones are superb examples of writing precision as well as bold anti-war statements, so powerful and disarming as they come from the anonymous minds and throats of the ones who were there.

"Company K" is a masterpiece. A terrible one, but a masterpiece. Thanks to Libros del Silencio for "rescuing" the novel.

SCORE: 9/10

"A Visit from the Goon Squad", in search of lost time in the digital age

A Visit from the Goon Squad- Jennifer Egan

Just to tell you which side I'm on, as an American literature reader (my family and friends would say "obsessed") my "education" is full of: "dirty realists and damned writers", "beatniks", the "lost generation", "southern gothics", "new journalists" and Woody Allen's humour and vision of life. I overtly admit vangardists and post-modernists writers haven't had a lot luck with me (few exceptions), but hey!, I keep trying.

In that sense, "A Visit from the Goon Squad" seemed a perfect choice. The 2011 Pulitzer's Prize, coming from an unknown writer (in Spain), Jennifer Egan, who has been included by Time Magazine among its most influential people list (whatever that means), and dealing with music. Curious? Needless to say I was. A lot.

I'm not going to spoil the intricate plot for you, but as the excellent artwork used by the promising new Spanish editorial Minúscula Jennifer Egan's book works as a coral mixtape dealing with one subject: time. A very peculiar "concept album" conformed by thirteen chapters, where thirteen characters explain, in their own different ways, a significant moment of their lives. From the 70s to 2020, this stories connect with each other, as the characters are linked through Bennie Salazar, who's work as musician and music producer gives the context of this peculiar novel.

One has to praise Egan's attempt to create something different, intimately connected with the "digital age" in which we are living. Her book is an intriguing "artefact", that despite its distorted, fragmented structure and therefore, different voices inside, is capable of permeating "A Visit from the Goon Squad" with a very cohesive (and classic, but don't worry, this is not Proust) element. A genuine sense of melancholy goes throughout the novel, the characters suffering that constant defeat against time, confronting their past with their changing present.  

But this book, as many mixtapes, records, compilation albums, in particular when they include "various artists", is unbalanced, some chapters being far more interesting than others, and a few of them, being a bit annoying, in my opinion. Yes, I'm basically referring to the "powerpoint" chapter. As a post-modernist idea it might be a literary achievement, and it might serve well the purpose of reflecting how communication evolve in the digital era. But after five pages, it is boring to read. The "journalist chapter" might be a fun homage to the ill-fated Foster Wallace, but lacks his punch. And the final, futuristic episode is, well, too blatantly "modern" to  bring you back to start, to collect the disjointed pieces and compose the fragmented puzzle. 

Again, I have the impression of aesthetics being more important for the author than the story she wants to explain. But as I said, "A Visit from the Goon Squad" leaves you with a quite powerful sense of longing for time, for the past that has gone, so aside from its original structure and attempts for new narrative forms, this is finally a "modern book" that achieves being substantial and interesting. Will look for more from Jennifer Egan.  

SCORE: 6,75/10

"Knockemstiff", the great American white trash book

Knockemstiff- Donald Ray Pollock 

Welcome to Knockemstiff, Ohio. Welcome to a rural nowhere, a black hole that absorbs everyone that survives (I don't dare  to say live) there and, for sure, a place from no-one escapes. Welcome to a human monster's parade, that will puzzle, terrify you as much as it grabs you. There's no redemption or mercy here. There might have been dreams, but misery and desolation easily corrupts them.

Donald Ray Pollock short stories have an structure that resembles the legendary "Winesburg, Ohio" by Sherwood Anderson, where stories and characters are, at times remotely, at times directly related, and where characters can be the centre of the tale, and then become a secondary actor in the next story. So when you reach the end of the book, you have the feeling of having read a novel of a place (and a time) on its own. It's a book about Knockemstiff, a place which may be the closest thing to hell on Earth. Seems the town, the hollow as it is referred on the book, really exists, being the are where the writer was born. But the amazing thing here is that Pollock manages to transcend the autobiography. Knockemstiff could be anywhere, and the reader will think there are many Knockemstiff out there. The Sex Pistols got famous by singing "No future no future for you no future for me" on "God Save the Queen". But in "Knockemstiff" the situation is much depressing. There's no future, because there's zero hope for the present.

The inhabitants of "Knockemstiff" are pure white trash fated for a life of alcohol, drugs, miserable sex, miserable works and the weight of their families, their bad choices and mistakes, their addictions, their inabilities to drive their lives and, of course, the place that surrounds them. They might be damned by the hollow where they live. But for sure, they are doomed. Pollock needs only just one sentence to resume it all.  "My father showed me how to harm people one night of August when I was seven years old". If we were talking about boxing, that would be an absolute knock-out.

Sensitive stomachs could be distressed by the cast of horrible and violent situations and human beings that swarm "Knockemstiff". I would ask you to persevere and going further than the (disgusting, brutal) surface, because this short stories deserve it. Pollock manages to avoid sentimentalisms or affectations, as well as repetitions. I have read in a review that the book is luckily amoral and I completely agree, being one , in my opinion, of the factors that makes his fiction so absorbing. There are no lessons here, just the cruel and raw "reality". Straight and without contemplations. And thanks to that, there are also credible feelings of desolation, frustration and shame in the condemned characters. As Raymond Carver would say, "No heroics, please". Even if the truth hurts. Even if it hurts so much that can turn you into a monster. I guess you realize by now what's going to be my conclusion: read "Knockemstiff". Just a final note. Read the great prologue from Kiko Amat after finishing the book.

SCORE: 8,25/10