A Little Lumpen Novelita

Frankly, I only bought this novella because I'm something of a Bolano completist, and I found a cheap second-hand copy in good nick. I've become increasingly disappointed with those in publishing who see Bolano as a well to drain to the last dregs - some of the books that have come out in recent years bearing his name are clearly unfit to be considered part of the canon (I'm looking at you, 'Woes of the True Policeman'). Fortunately, this very early novelistic attempt is well worth the read, and was a great way to pass a lazy Sunday afternoon. As a bonus for Bolano devotees like myself, there are several little nods or clues that hint at things to come - and it's always fun to trace the lineage of the ideas found in '2666.'

Bolaño dedicó ésta novela a sus hijos. Curiosa dedicatoria pues es una historia de huérfanos y, cruel e irónicamente, fue la última obra publicada en vida del autor. Quizá, consciente de su próximo fin, fue un guiño, una sentida despedida literaria así como las órdenes explícitas dejadas a su editor, que no se respetaron, para la publicación de su obra póstuma “2666”.
El título: novelita; sólo puede ser, más allá de la brevedad del texto, una descarada falsa modestia o un honesto reconocimiento de presentar una obra menor, poco desarrollada. En esa falta de desarrollo, empleado como hábil recurso narrativo, radica buena parte de su mérito: apunta, esboza, sugiere para que sea el lector el que imagine historias show more que no se explicitan (espejos rotos: ¿por abandono o destrozados por la rabia de alguien que ha perdido la vista?, la relación entre el hermano y sus amigos, el nombre de un místico del s.XVI para un actor que da vida al personaje de un forzudo, ...).
En un comienzo de apenas setenta palabras pone en antecedentes al lector y ofrece la perspectiva actual de distanciamiento voluntario de quien cuenta la historia. Contada más que narrada, tal es la cercanía del texto. Alejado del territorio americano, los hechos transcurren en Italia, el texto está escrito en español de la península con expresiones muy castellanas y ninguna concesión a giros y modismos chilenos, salvo un “desguazadero” que se ha impuesto al autor pues el pez muere por la boca y el escritor por su pluma.
Es un libro sobre la carencia que cae como una losa sobre la protagonista, pero sin luto, ni siquiera la expresión de un sentimiento de pérdida; contado con la lejanía de quien ya ha pasado ésa página del libro de su vida y en el que lo onírico cobra especial relevancia ora como futurible deseable, ora como huida de la agobiante realidad. show less

What am I missing in regard to Bolaño as an author? I tried reading The Savage Detectives once but never finished it. I read The Skating Rink a few years ago & it was fine, but nothing really memorable. And while this was also fine, not bad, I can't say it was anything special either. Obviously Bolaño is highly revered & loved as an author, yet I can't seem to connect to his works that I've read (or tried to read). I also have the feeling that, as a reader/outsider to the story, I'm being held at arm's length (by the author, by the story) -- readers are relegated to "observer" status, imo. Maybe the distance it creates is part of the plan? Anyway, it was ok. Shrug.

Roberto Bolaño’s posthumous reputation has grown in leaps and bounds since his death in 2003 at the age of 50 and the publication in English of novels like By Night in Chile and The Savage Detectives. A Little Lumpen Novelita was the last of his works to be published during his lifetime and was issued in English translation in 2014. This is the story of teenage Bianca, who lives in Rome with her younger brother following the sudden deaths of their parents in a car crash. Bianca and her brother stop going to school and get menial jobs (at a hair salon and a gym) to bring in money (a constant worry). A quarter of the way through the book Bianca arrives home to find that two of her brother’s friends from the gym have moved in, a man show more from Bologna and another from Libya. The men are polite and neat and seem to want nothing but a place to stay. Like a family, the four eat meals and watch tv together. But it turns out the two are criminals who have hatched a plot to rob a blind former body-builder and actor named Maciste. Bianca is crucial to the plan, which requires her to provide sexual favours in order to gain Maciste’s trust so she can search his house for the money they’re certain is hidden there. Bianca goes along with the plan, visiting Maciste several times a week. The story ends abruptly and open-endedly, with the two men gone, Bianca’s brother locked in his room crying and Bianca alone and staring into the night. For Bianca, life is a continuous state of looking and watching and waiting for something to happen, but not caring enough to try to move events in a certain direction. Light and dark play a huge role here. Maciste is blind; after her parents die Bianca can see in the dark. The oddness of the story is deliberate, helped along by the helter-skelter nature of Bianca’s thoughts and observations. It is a fascinating exercise and makes for compelling reading. But it is probably not a book that you will be in a hurry to read a second time. show less

Bolaño utiliza aquí su estilo observador casi periodista osea folletinista que se destacará más tarde en el Detectives salvajes y aún más estérilmente en 2666 para contar desde la primera persona unos detalles pequeños de la vida de una chiquita obrera huérfana, detalles que se pondrán con más profunda impresión en los libros mentados arriba. Su don de este estilo sin embargo enreda al lector en los detallitos y hasta presenta unas verdades universales a través de los pensamientos de la protagonista. La lectura entretiene y da risa como toda obra de Bolaño y vale la pena.

They weren’t his friends, though my brother chose to think they were.

Much like the apocryphal "last recordings" of Eric Dolphy which continued to arrive for years, the Bolaño caravan into English continues long after his death. There have been a number of jewels in recent years so I suppose a dud was inevitable. I am quick to qualify, the book is only inert as being an undercooked fancy. An Italian woman recounts her adolescence when after her parents died she and her brother were left to their own devices. Did a weird community develop a la [b:The Cement Garden|9957|The Cement Garden|Ian McEwan|https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1166111732s/9957.jpg|1189398]? No, she worked at a salon while her brother hangs out with disagreeables at a show more gym. What follows is the slimmest of ideas. It can barely sustain the introduction of pivotal character two-thirds of the way through the novella. The effect is jarring. There is but a single aesthetic flourish around p.92 where the Master becomes apparent. That said, I didn't feel any hope in this text, not a philosophical hope but a literary one where somehow the plot could find its legs.

I remain ready to be convinced otherwise, but this wasn't the best way to spend a rainy afternoon. show less

Different. Marvelous voice. Quick read.

I recommend it, but I'm a little torn about the seeming indifference about their parents' deaths (page 1; not a spoiler) and I'm a bit concerned about the way it ended. Another reader may disagree.