Alvaro Colomer

A friend’s blog persuaded me to give Agustín Fernández Mallo’s Nocilla Dream (see here) a go, and I thought the novel excellent – and was intrigued by the fact it had inspired a “Nocilla generation” of writers in Spain. So I decided to see how this had manifested, and Colomer’s Uppsala Woods looked like the most interesting of the novels labelled as “Nocilla” I could find. Having now read it… I’m not entirely sure what Mallo brought to it, other than perhaps a show more circumspect prose style which uses excessive detail; and while I like that, I like detail, I write it myself, the story of Uppsala Woods proved to be something of a let-down. The narrator is an entomologist and his wife has been suffering from depression. He comes home from work one day and discovers she has tried to commit suicide by swallowing pills. This reminds him of an actual suicide he witnessed as a boy – a neighbour jumped off a seventh-floor balcony while he watched – and which traumatised him so badly he grew up into the weak-willed and indecisive human being he is now. There’s a lot of reflection on his self-perceived failings, and how it feeds into his response to his wife’s attempted suicide. It doesn’t help that the marriage had been failing, and he’s incapable of making the concessions needed to rescue it. In fact, he’s not a very nice person at all. And there’s a whiff of misogyny to the narrative which is unpleasant, not to mention a definitely old-fashioned view of suicide as a form of “lunacy”. I liked the prose style and thought it effective, but found the story disappointing and its sensibilities a little old-fashioned for me. I’d like to further explore the Nocilla generation, but I hope they’re better than Uppsala Woods. Incidentally, the English translation of the third book of Mallo’s trilogy, Nocilla Lab, is due in January next year, and I’m looking forward to it. Mallo has written other novels and I’d like to read them – but they’ve yet to be translated into English. Perhaps I should learn Spanish… I mean, there are those Cuban authors I’d like to read too… show less

Un pelín más largo, con cosas menos obvias y algo más, hubiera tenido mayor nota

Un convoy militar atraviesa el desierto. Niños iraquíes saludan desde el arcén; a sus espaldas, pozos de petróleo en llamas, carros de combate calcinados y un paisaje cuarteado como el vientre de un reptil moribundo. La brigada española Plus Ultra II se dirige a la ciudad santa de Najaf, donde compartirá acuartelamiento con unidades de otros países. Todo transcurre con normalidad en la base Al-Andalus, hasta que un día el autoproclamado ejército del Mahdi asalta el cuartel español, show more dando inicio a la batalla de Najaf. Es el 4 de abril de 2004 y ha pasado un año desde la invasión de Irak. España se encuentra en pleno proceso de transferencia de poderes: tras los atentados del 11-M, el Partido Popular ha perdido las elecciones y el PSOE aún no ha tomado posesión de la cartera de Defensa.

¿Se cruzó de manos el alto mando de la Brigada Plus Ultra II mientras las otras unidades luchaban para defender el cuartel? ¿Se negó el gobierno en funciones a tomar decisiones durante el enfrentamiento? ¿Por qué se ha silenciado una de las batallas recientes más importantes del ejército español? show less

Cuando el día de su quinto aniversario de bodas, Julio –un entomólogo abocado a detectar el primer ejemplar de mosquito tigre– llega a su casa y no encuentra a Elena por ningún rincón, desespera. El caos se irá apoderando de él. Desde hace un año ella llevan dándole vueltas a una sola idea: quitarse la vida.

Para salvar a su mujer, Julio tiene que adentrarse en los laberintos de la memoria, rastrear el origen de sus temores, explorar los traumas propios para comprender los de show more Elena y poder rescatarla, finalmente, de sus abismos. show less