My rating: 4 out of 5
Book review:
Although it took me some days to finish this book, I enjoyed every bit of it (except, maybe, the political stuff). It is such a dense prose that I couldn't read more than a chapter at a time, as it claimed quite an effort from my brain cells. I had to dwell on a lot of paragraphs in order to understand the meaning, and I must confess that, sometimes, I didn't quite get it. Yet, there was such beauty and philosophy in Circle in the grass that I feel I must read this book again, in the same manner - small doses, time to ponder, because too much of it will make my head explode.
Circle in the grass is a story about passionate love, art and politics, with deep introspects about human condition, poetry, love, relationships. There are some strong characters here, whose inner and outer lives are followed in turns, and there are also amazing fable-like stories from parts of Italy.
And yes, above all there is Rome, with its winding streets and compelling architecture, which will stir a deep melancholy for those who have visited this wonderful city at some point in their lives.
In 1978, Hanna Piccard, a Dutch journalist, comes with her two cats to work in Rome and there she meets Joe Kurhajec, a Vietnam-veteran turned sculptor. Through him she comes to know Andrea Simonetti, a divorced poet who lives with his 13-year-old daughter, Leda.
Soon, a tormenting love sparks between Hanna and Andrea, despite the fact that they are so different. The novel follows their love from the awkward beginning, through the difficult time they have to adapt to each other, till the final stage (which I won't spoil). While Hanna is more action-oriented, jealous, suspicious and deeply engaged in their affair, Andrea is contemplative, distant and sometimes cruel, fearing the loss of individuality (or at least this is how I got it).
Meanwhile, Andrea is working on his very long poem, in which one of the characters is inspired by his employer and friend Zucarelli, the head of the museum where Andrea works as an art historian. And how I loved when, towards the end, Zucarelli denies the role that it was attributed to him in the poem and chooses the fate of the hero instead...
Hanna, Andrea, Leda and Zucarelli take turns in expressing their inner world in this novel, through voices and personalities which are quite distinct. Leda is creative, intelligent and almost as contemplative as her father. She gradually leaves her childhood behind and has her first crush, on a stranger.
The political background is also of importance - Italy is under threat of terrorism from the Red Brigades and the events culminate with the abduction of Aldo Moro, ex-prime-minister. There are some well-spoken words about the trajectory of the consumerist world and about why people are revolting - politics has never been my cup of tea, yet it was interesting to read Oek de Jong's ideas on the subject.
For more experienced readers, Circle in the grass may even earn 5 stars. Such a pity this book is so little known...
EDIT: Apparently, this book is not translated into English and it is such a loss! This book deserves a wider audience, it is a truly great novel.
My rating: 2 out of 5
Book review:
The Forgotten Garden was rather disappointing, as I was sure that I would love this book. Secrets, mystery, a hidden garden...these are ingredients that I love. Just not the most fortunate use for them in this plot.
For one thing, this book should have been half its length - so many and not particularly beautiful descriptions, detailed rendering of unimportant gestures and unnecessary talk. And the secrets were not really secrets, I could glimpse at several possibilities, one of which turned out to be true in the end. If the mystery were deeper, the writing more alert, it would have made a perfect easy read. I made sure to be a fast read though, as I couldn't waste too much time with this book, seeing that it didn't please me the way a good book should.
Some parts of the story are indeed catchy, the setting of Blackhurst estate is amazing (though I made little use of the map enclosed), but some of the characters and events are not quite believable. Nell, for one thing, behaved in a stupid manner; no matter the author's attempts to explain her behavior, I just couldn't relate to her choices. On top of that, I wasn't fond of any particular character in this novel, because they were not easy to like.
If you made a résumé of this book, the resulting story would be interesting enough, but the 500 pages are not worth the time spent in its company, if you're looking for a gripping, fast-paced novel.
My rating: 4 out of 5
Book review:
The Noodle Maker was a pleasant surprise for me. It consists of several loosely interconnected short stories, sometimes with a touch of surreal, often with a delicious dark humor, and mostly absurd.
A satire of the Chinese society affected by the Open Door Policy (instituted by Deng Xiaoping in 1978), this book has an interesting array of characters: the failed writer who dreams of his big novel, but instead writes political-oriented articles about everyday made-up heroes; the professional blood donor who has become a rich man exploiting the benefits of his occupation; the jealous actress who wants to get revenge on her lover by committing a most peculiar suicide; the young woman whom nobody thinks is still a virgin because of her rather huge breasts; a talking dog who debates with a man that dogs are superior to humans.
My favorite was the story of a middle-aged man who still lived with his mother, both taking care of their business - an independent crematorium. Man, was this a bizarre and twisted story! The son has a whole philosophy in choosing the right music for the dead, according to their status in life and the money their relatives pay.
There was also a mention of Nicolae Ceaușescu, out late Romanian dictator, in a funny context (I'll try to translate it):
The year when Ceausescu was due to visit their town, the mayoralty decided to hide the ugliest buildings on the main boulevards behind pressed wood panels, previously painted as to resemble a line of good-looking houses. Ceausescu was passing in a hurry anyway, so only his first impression was of importance.
What Wikipedia says about the author:
Ma Jian is a vocal critic of China's Communist regime. His works explore themes and subjects that are taboo in China. He has continually called for greater freedom of expression and the release of jailed writers and other political prisoners. As a result, his books have been banned in China for the last 25 years, and since the summer of 2011, he has been denied entry into the mainland.
I strongly recommend this book if you want to get a cynical glimpse of China, if you enjoy dark humor and don't mind a heavy dose of absurd and surreal.
My rating: 3 out of 5
Book review:
Post Office was Bukowski's first novel, written at the age of 49. However, this was not his first work - throughout the years, he had published poetry and short stories. Yet, only at 49 he decided to dedicate himself to writing and finally quit working at the postal service, with the support of his future publisher. I wonder whether the outcome would have been different for Bukowski, had not been for this turn of events...
The novel (which is mainly autobiographical) recounts the main events from the troubled life of Henry Chinaski, from his first employment with the Post Office until he finally quits, after 11 (or 12) years. I couldn't believe this was true - I thought that Bukowski was a writer from the beginning! The important women in his life also appear in the novel and I could see he was not picky - he could do with ugly and much older women...
What a messed-up life he had, this Bukowski! Drinking, gambling, a boring job that wrecked his body and mind, not to say anything about the constant lookout for women (yet, this is not a bad thing from a man's perspective, is it?). He has a cynical approach to life and he shows little feelings - he doesn't seem to care when women leave him, like he wasn't even in love with them. Yet, he is not completely indifferent: he shows sympathy for an old colleague, he defends a dog and seems to love his daughter (his only child, in real life).
I had mixed feelings toward this novel. At times I liked it, other times I didn't. And it was like that till the end. Yet, I don't feel sorry for the time spent reading it, because it was interesting enough. And quite funny. Anyway, I wanted to read Bukowski for a long time and maybe it's best that I began with Post Office, because, through this novel, I got a glimpse of his life.
My rating: 5 out of 5
Book review:
I wonder why so few people have read this novel, because it's quite amazing. I can't say that it's completely original, because it reminded me of Kafka (The Castle) and Saramago (All the Names), but imagining an institution where people's dreams are analyzed... That is a brilliant idea, masterfully developed by Ismail Kadaré.
Mark-Alem comes from a powerful Albanian family, the Quiprili (Köprülü), and his relatives decide that he should apply for a job at one of the most influential institutions of the Ottoman Empire - Tabir Saray, the Palace of Dreams. Thus he begins his ascent to the top, although fearful and confused, never fully aware of what he is supposed to do. In this huge machinery of control, the dreams from all over the empire are gathered, sorted and analysed, in order to choose one Master Dream that is presented each Friday to the Sultan. Dreams are believed to foretell important political events, thus being of utmost importance to the Empire.
We follow Mark-Alem's journey through the mysterious Palace of Dreams, with its nightmarish passages where he usually gets lost, with the thousands of dreams stacked away in its huge underground archive, with the kafkian beaurocracy and the strange happenings that make people paranoid. Without realising, Mark-Alem becomes an active part in the events that will unfold in the story, bringing misfortune to his family.
Absorbed in the world of dreams, Mark-Alem comes to believe that this is the real world, powerful and vivid, while the reality outside gradually becomes gray, dull and less and less attractive. He gets more and more isolated, his relatives remaining his only connection to the earthly world. He seems oblivious to any romantic relationship and the only mention of a possible wife comes from his uncles, but we don't ever get to know the girl. The lack of a sexual dimension makes the character a bit too flat, but contributes to his total immersion in the fantastic world of dreams, a sort of hell that Ismail Kadaré wanted to create in his novel.
My rating: 5 out of 5
Book review:
This was quite a powerful story, like a tornado sweeping off the outside world and leaving nothing but me and this book. At first, the violence made it a little hard to read (I was not sure if I would finish it), but eventually I was so immersed in the story that I came back to reality just to pray that the ending won't be a bad one. And it wasn't.
From the opening chapter, I knew this book will be different from the ones I've read so far. It is a harsh real-life story of people living at the edge of society, people who struggle for a job and a better life - not always through honest means. Although they are not entirely faithful, they turn to God in the key moments of their existence, either to pray or to ask for an answer.
Come Dio comanda is the story of a 13-year old boy, Cristiano Zena, who lives with his father, Rino, an unemployed drunkard and Nazi sympathizer who has violent episodes, but who loves his son more than his life. Rino's two friends, a mentally handicapped guy and another drunkard whose wife has left him, are the only thing close to a family for Cristiano. Despite the rough world in which he lives, Cristiano is not a tough boy. He has problems adapting, he doesn't have other friends apart from his father's, and he is shy with girls.
Everything will change beginning one stormy night, when the three grownups decide to steal money from an ATM. The original plan will never take place, as each of them takes a different path that night, that will change their lives forever. Cristiano is swept into the unfolding events, an experience that will affect and transform him deeply.
The novel is cinematic, the characters are skilfully built, I was right there amidst the story. No wonder it was made into a film - it has the perfect plot for an European movie. What an incredible book! I'm still under its influence.
Rating: 5 out of 5
Book review:
The Tenant or The Chimerical Lodger is still vivid in my mind - the book made quite a powerful impression on me. Although the beginning was rather slow, with depictions of mundane activities which seemed redundant, the strange happenings were not long overdue and from that moment on I couldn't put the book down. It's mesmerizing, it's intense, it's much more than a horror story.
The main character's gradual slip into insanity is skilfully orchestrated by Roland Topor, although it is a little bit difficult to identify the moment when the whole process starts. Maybe Trelkovksy was nuts from the very beginning, although it doesn't show; I definitely have to read this book again.
A look at Roland Topor's surreal drawings show a glimpse of his many talents.
Unfortunately, this story is way too short for its potential. I wanted to go on and on with its surreal madness, I wished for a lot more strange things to happen in that bathroom from across Trelkovksy's window! The plot reminded me of Hitchcock, while the ending would have made David Lynch proud. I'm still not sure what I was supposed to understand from this book, if there is a definitive answer and explanation for all that was happening. But I like puzzles, for their entertaining value and because they play with my mind.
After I finished the book, I was also curious to see the movie, which is really good and follows the book almost faithfully. Good thing it ended up in Roman Polanski's hands, a Frenchman like Roland Topor (it may not be of general interest, but I have to add that topor means axe in both Polish and Romanian).
To get a glimpse of the atmosphere in The Tenant, listen to the wonderful sondtrack:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f7ZTOV0Zdr4&list=PL22B3A964A5E7A3FD
Rating: 4 out of 5
Book review:
I value the books whose plot has managed to stay etched in my mind. Some of the novels I've read are pleasant, but they are soon forgotten. The ones that shape me and teach me are the most valued, of course; but I keep a special place for those that I remember. Kawabata's story is one of those. And incidentally, it talks about memory, among other things. It also speaks about the fear of death and the desire to prolong one's life through the elixir of youth; about regrets and unfulfilled desires wept at the feet of high priestesses; about the wish for peace and reconciliation with one's life.
In a peculiar house, which can't really be called a brothel, beautiful virgins lie in deep slumber, naked, innocent and unconscious. Old men come to lie down beside them, awake, troubled, full of desire. They can't harm the virgins, they are not allowed to wake them. They can only touch their bodies and sleep beside them. Such defenseless bodies and oblivious minds, at the whims and mercy of old men. If you look at the picture this way, the story might make you feel contempt; and yet, it has a beautiful and poetic vein, despite its grain of ugliness.
From ancient times, old men had sought to use the scent given off by girls as an elixir of youth.
Eguchi comes to the house lured by this strange kind of pleasure. On a couple of nights, in the enclosed space of a room, he contemplates the obedient, exposed bodies of the young girls. Deep slumber is reminiscent of death in a way; in their sleep, some of the girls seemed more alive than others. Life was there, most definitely, in her scent, in her touch, in the way she moved.Eguchi experiences an array of feelings and memories awaken by the sounds, the smells and the sights. He remembers his youth, his children, the women he had affairs with. He fights with melancholy, with unhappiness, but also with the urge to do harm.
In their hearts, as they lay against the flesh of naked young girls put to sleep, would be more than fear of approaching death and regret for their lost youth. There might also be remorse, and the turmoil so common in the families of the successful. They would have no Buddha before whom to kneel. The naked girl would know nothing, would not open her eyes, if one of the old men were to hold her tight in his arms, shed cold tears, even sob and wail. The old man need feel no shame, no damage to his pride. The regrets and the sadness could flow quite freely. And might not the 'sleeping beauty' herself be a Buddha of sorts? And she was flesh and blood. Her young skin and scent might be forgiveness for the sad old men.
The story impressed me to such an extent that it entered the realm of my dreams. I have one short but weird story to tell, and I write it here because I want to remember it over the years. One night, after reading the story, I woke up with the feeling that somebody was lying awake behind me, watching me in the dark, keeping a hand on my breast. I felt slightly frightened but then I fell asleep again, or maybe I was never awake in the first place. In the morning I woke up confused, because I wasn't sure if what I remembered had been a dream or reality. When I asked my boyfriend about it, he said he had been sound asleep the whole night. Weird. And yet it felt so vivid, like a lucid dream...
The strange thing about all this is that the scene I experienced is also happening in the novel. It felt like I was projected inside the sleeping girl's mind. Like I was perceiving through her skin, through her senses, even though they seemed to be asleep. Maybe they weren't, maybe she could sense what was happening to her. An unconscious yet alert consciousness.
Well, I couldn't write this review without confessing the connection I had with the story.
My review is only for House of the Sleeping Beauties. If you read this, you should also consider Memories of My Melancholy Whores and see how Márquez made use of the idea behind Kawabata's story.
My rating: 4 out of 5
Book review:
From the first page, I said to myself: I'll love this novel! Which was almost true. This is the kind of book that you browse in a bookstore and immediately decide to buy (if you are not averse to coming-of-age novels, that is).
The writing is juicy, witty and funny. I especially loved Marek's recollections of his mother, which created in my mind a vivid, excentric, powerful character. Neither his father nor his brothers are what might be called "normal" people, not even Mark is an ordinary teenager. I loved the details which sketched the portrait of one bizarre and dysfunctional family.
In the coming-of-age novels, the teenager usually undergoes challenges which help him pass the threshold towards maturity, but in The Story of My Baldness the situation seems to be the opposite: instead of being liberated through love and sex, Marek is gradually overcome by two obsessions: the search of the elusive amour fou and the increasing contempt he fells towards a certain part of his body.
At this point I got a little bored, plus there was some part when Marek started rambling about the crazy love and his cock and seemed to had forgotten about the previous narrative, started dozens of pages ago.
The Romanian translation was really good, it seemed to maintain the playful and comical tone of the original.
My rating: 5 out of 5
Book review:
Here's an Icelandic writer of which I've heard nothing about, despite the fact that he won the Nobel prize for literature. I found the book by chance, the synopsis sounded interesting enough, so I began reading and... helplessly fell in love with the novel.
This is Halldór Laxness' only book translated into Romanian, but I'm anxious to read some of his other works, especially Independent People.
Under the Glacier is truly an amazing book, which made me laugh (or at least giggle), think and wonder. It is a delightful blend of fantasy and reality which immerses the reader in a mysterious, yet earthly dimension. Even now, when I think of it, the magical world of the parish by the glacier is still vivid in my mind and prolongs its fascination upon me.
The way the dialogues are presented is a little bit strange: instead of the usual lines, there are the names of the interlocutors. It was a bit distressing at first, but this annoying fact was gradually forgotten since the dialogue became absurd anyway, yet so savory and funny that I could no longer find it the least fault.
The writing is full of humor (I found myself laughing many times) and the absurd situations that emerge are extremely delicious. The blending of reality with fantasy is in the perfect dose for me - at the end I was left in a state of reverie, wondering how much of what had happened was real. Some facts are confirmed, others are left unexplained, but this doesn't diminish the magic atmosphere of this forgotten place at the end of the world, governed by the glacier and the sea birds and populated by a bunch of more or less bizarre people.
Iceland through the lens of photographer Ragnar Axelsson
The old man may well be the priest from the parish near the glacier (photographer: Ragnar Axelsson)
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