Coffee with Arturito

Christmas is approaching quickly, as it always does when we cross the threshold of 'halfway there'. No presents purchased, but the cakes are done. And as I have miles to read before I sleep, I ought not to do this.

Finished Bolaño's Amulet in a fit of desperation for something else to do but revise American Politics, two days ago. And while it's not 2666, The Savage Detectives or The Last Evenings on Earth, it is good. I think of it as a Mrs. Dalloway in Mexico. The mother of mexican poetry retelling her involvement with the young poets of Mexico, as she sits terrified in the fourth floor bathroom of the literature department. All told in a stream of consciousness, semi-dream. Auxillio is the apparent narrator, but perhaps it is really Arturo Belano or one of the other poets recounting?

Like Faulkner, Bolaño writes about one universe. The characters that appear in his other works are here as well, Arturito Belano, for instance. And visceral realism.

Attempting to read Russian I finally understood why so many non-native speakers seem to struggle with Mrs. Dalloway. Stream of consciousness does not work unless you read it in one quick gulp (or one fell swoop). You need to forget the technicality of your eyes moving, the nuances and etymological mysteries of words, and just inhale. Which is difficult if you do not completely understand what you are reading.

Committee, isn't it a fascinating word? All those consonants. I stifle a giggle every time I write it.

Coffee with Arturito

Christmas is approaching quickly, as it always does when we cross the threshold of 'halfway there'. No presents purchased, but the cakes are done. And as I have miles to read before I sleep, I ought not to do this.

Finished Bolaño's Amulet in a fit of desperation for something else to do but revise American Politics, two days ago. And while it's not 2666, The Savage Detectives or The Last Evenings on Earth, it is good. I think of it as a Mrs. Dalloway in Mexico. The mother of mexican poetry retelling her involvement with the young poets of Mexico, as she sits terrified in the fourth floor bathroom of the literature department. All told in a stream of consciousness, semi-dream. Auxillio is the apparent narrator, but perhaps it is really Arturo Belano or one of the other poets recounting?

Like Faulkner, Bolaño writes about one universe. The characters that appear in his other works are here as well, Arturito Belano, for instance. And visceral realism.

Attempting to read Russian I finally understood why so many non-native speakers seem to struggle with Mrs. Dalloway. Stream of consciousness does not work unless you read it in one quick gulp (or one fell swoop). You need to forget the technicality of your eyes moving, the nuances and etymological mysteries of words, and just inhale. Which is difficult if you do not completely understand what you are reading.

Committee, isn't it a fascinating word? All those consonants. I stifle a giggle every time I write it.