Milos Krstic Krstic itibaren Kazimieravas 14271, Litvanya
Bir gün bu kitabı bitireceğim, yemin ederim.
Sadece bitiremedim. Hikaye orijinal değildi ve daha önce kitabı okuduğumu hissettim. Sıkıcıydı ve kendimi Amelia ya da Yeşu hakkında yeterince umursamadım. Bu yüzden okumayı bıraktım.
Hikayenin bilimkurgu bölümleri harikaydı ama MC'lerin neden birbirlerine çekildiklerini göremedim - büyük seks bir yana;)
Bir çatı filmi gösterimi için kapıda ücretsiz bir kitap dağıtıyordu. Neden? Bana çatıdaki filmlerde bir sahne düzenlendiği söylendi. Ya da en azından çatıdaki filmlere ayrılmış bir çatıdaki bir sahne. Görünüşe göre Adbusters'ın eski bir editörü Jim Munroe. Arka bulanıklık korkunç, bir okültist oda arkadaşı hakkında bir turne performans hareket dönüşüyor. Bir yığın halinde gömüldü. Yarı rastgele kazılmak. Bunun sadece tür kurgu planımın bir devamı olacağını varsayıyordum, bazı Borges öykülerine rağmen hala devam ediyor, ancak görünüşte bir şeytanbilim konusu göz önüne alındığında beklediğim korku romanı olmaktan çok daha fazlası olmalı Adbusters'ın bir editöründen beklediler: yaşlandıkça pop-kültür, alt kültür ve yaşam ve sanat müzakeresi üzerine düşünceler. Temel olarak kültürel referanslarla bu kadar yaygın olan bir kitabın hedef okuyucusu olmasına rağmen, ilk başta kültürel olarak alakalı ayrıntıyı biraz rahatsız edici buldum. Bu konuda daha fazlası aşağıda. Ayrıca, kitap blog formatında ortaya çıkıyor, ki bu da aynı "kültürel açıdan alakalı" şekilde kitchy ve o anlatıcı Kate bloglarında, sanki inanılmaz derecede ayrıntılı (ve genellikle ilginç olmayan) bir şaka ile dolu bir roman yazıyormuş gibi tamamen ikna edici değil ve çoğu bloglamada daha fazla konuşma özdeyişine tamamen sızan bir kulak. Hikayenin bir blogun segue'lerde olduğu ve Kate'in sıkıldığı ve girişlerinin kurgu ve yalanlara girmesine izin verdiği nadir ama eğlenceli dizilerde olduğu açıktır. (Tamam, bu yüzden Munroe, kitabı gerçek bir blog olarak ücretsiz olarak serbest bırakmak için bazı "biçimlendirme hile" puanlarını geri kazandı. Parasının büyük ölçüde ağzının olduğu yerde olduğunu ve alternatif ve kolayca dağıtılabilir medyaya yabancı olmadığını itiraf etmeliyim. Bunların çoğu kitabın yarısında rahatsız edici bir şekilde yazılmıştır, ancak planlı olarak, hikaye bir yolculuğa yoğunlaştığında ikinci yarıda biraz toparlanır. Hala çoğunlukla kültürel gözlem için bir araç, ama bir şekilde, kolayca tanımlanabilecek bir sebep olmaksızın, anahtar karakterlere sevindim. Bu kültürel gözleme geri dönme: Dediğim gibi, tüm referanslar için hedef kitleye ümit edebileceğim kadar yaklaştım ve beni biraz rahatsız ettiler. Neden? Peki, bazıları gereksizdi: bir sayfa uzunluğunda Shaolin Soccer digression'ına, eğik çizgi fantazisinin * tam bir açıklamasına ve China Mieville, Cat Power ve Guided By Voices gibi sık kullanılan analojilere ihtiyacımız var mı? Özellikle ilk ikisi: biraz fazla didaktik, biraz da "sizi ilginizi çekebilecek kültürel bir eserle tanıştırayım". Belki kısmen kitabın 2004 yılında yayınlanması ve güncel referansların son derece hızlı bir şekilde tarihlenmesi. Sanat / müzik yaşamına ve onun göstergelerine daha geniş atıflar elbette biraz daha zamansız görünüyor. Bunun nasıl iyi yapılabileceğini merak ediyorum. Zaman aslında yardımcı olabilir, belki de her şeyin yeni olmak için biraz geç olduğu dönemi geçtikten sonra. Pynchon (görünüşe göre şimdi sürekli olarak incelemelere başvurduğum yazar ve bunun için üzgünüm) uğraştığı dönemin kültürel referanslarıyla doludur, ancak hoşturlar. Bence mesafe ton kadar uzağa da yardımcı olur: belirli bir noktadan sonra bilgi verme hissi daha azdır ve referanslar arka plan detayı haline gelir. Bununla birlikte, daha güncel olan kitaplar için, detayları keserek ve daha geniş şekillerine ve duyularına kültürel referans tutarak tehlikelerin önlenebileceğini düşünüyorum. Büyük Jones Caddesi'nin kendi zamanında iyi gittiğinden şüpheliyim ve diğer başarısızlıkları ne olursa olsun, potansiyelinin zirvesinde (nonspesifik) bir grup hissi, Beni Sevmediğin şeydi Ama aslında en etkili şekilde çekildi. Bu, daha fazla düşünmeyi hak ediyor, özellikle de bir noktada kendi kurgumu yazmaya başlarsam aklıma gelebilecek bir tuzak gibi. Düşünceler? * Öte yandan, Draco / Harry slash fic'e atıfta bulunmak için bir kitabı gerçekten nasıl hatalandırabilirim ki bu da benim de karşılaştığım tuhaf popüler fenomenin ilk örneği olduğunu düşünüyorum.
Animate! Immerse! Revive! This big, fat book sat lifeless, intimidating, unread on my shelf for several years. I loved the cover, but I didn't particularly like the shape of the book itself. It was a brick. Somehow its dimensions seemed to be disproportionate. For a long time, I made excuses, then, finally, prompted by two GR friends, I made a spontaneous decision. I opened it and started to read... I immersed myself in a world of revelation for ten days. I still feel the preternatural reverberations. What does an author do when they write a novel? Do they condense life? Do they distil it? Do they dehydrate life? Do they remove the water? Do they create a desert? So life can be preserved until the rain comes? What do readers do when we read a novel? Do we just add water? Do we re-hydrate life? Are we the rain the novel was waiting for? Does our effort bring the novel alive? Do we make it vital? Does reading turn a desert into an oasis? Do we animate what the author has created? And vice versa? Does their creation facilitate our recreation? Writers, write more so that we may be animated! Readers, read more so that you may animate (and be more animated)! Writers, readers...immerse yourselves in each other! Revive! Vitalise! Enjoy! Expose yourselves to life! Turn your back on death! Its time will come...but not yet! Talking Heads - "And She Was" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZV9DN... "Now she's starting to rise Take a minute to concentrate And she opens up her eyes The world was moving and She was right there with it (and she was)." Hermosillo, Sonora Doesn't the moon look big tonight! A Critical Quest for the Author In Part 1 of this metafiction, four European critics go looking for the (German) author, the writer, Hans Reiter (aka Benno von Archimboldi, named after the Mexican statesman Benito Juárez and the Milanese painter Giuseppe Arcimboldo). He is there, somewhere in front of them, in Mexico, but they can't see the wood for the trees. In Part 5, Bolano offers us the author, up to the point he leaves for Mexico. We readers know what the critics don't and can't know. What we learn is the identity of the author, the person, his character, his childhood, his adulthood, his family, his influences, his bibliography, his history, his past. Into the Abyss of Time and Space Our journey of discovery takes us not just across time, but across the globe, from pre-war Germany to wartime Soviet Union to contemporary Mexico. Chronologically, we start in the forest, we cross the sea, and we end up in the desert. Each of these places has a metaphorical significance for Bolano. During the war (Part 5), 500 Jews are exterminated (in the forest) by compliant local administrators in a matter of weeks, while in Santa Teresa, northern Mexico (Part 4), we see 105 women and girls raped and murdered over five years. It's an average of 21 per annum, but they're not just statistics - they all have names, ages, identities, families and causes of death. Part 4 wasn't as explicit or harrowing as I had anticipated. You just need to formulate a reading strategy to accommodate the sheer bulk of Femicide. It's unrelenting, but nowhere near as unrelenting as the experience of the real thing. Apart from the number of crimes, there is less detail than a standard crime novel. It's tempting to depersonalise it, to disbelieve, to treat it as mere fiction. But that would defeat the purpose. It is based on the real (just as is the description of the Holocaust). This is the desert of the real. We can't turn our backs. We have to acknowledge it. World Central Part 5 blew my mind. Anybody who doesn't reach it because they give up in Part 4 is missing out on some of the best writing this century! There is wartime realism a la the relatively two-dimensional "Europe Central". However, this Part takes us into the fifth dimension. There is tragedy, comedy, fantasy, science fiction, satire. Think de Sade, Thomas Mann, Herman Hesse, Günter Grass, Thomas Pynchon, David Lynch, James Ellroy, Joseph Heller, Kurt Vonnegut, Michael Bulgakov, Bruno Schulz, even Saul Bellow at times. To paraphrase Bolano himself, this is one of the great, imperfect, torrential works that blaze paths into the unknown, a novel in which one of the great masters (and Bolano is entitled to that label) "struggles against that something that terrifies us all, that something that cows and spurs us on, amid blood and mortal wounds and stench." Juan Davila - "Stupid as a Painter" (1982) Matthew 26:66 "What think ye? They answered and said, he is guilty of death." The Parallels of Genocide and Femicide In the words of Hannah Arendt, Bolano shows us just how banal evil can be, at least with respect to the Holocaust. 500 Jews arrive by train, apparently by mistake, in a small regional town. They present a problem for the local administration, an inconvenience. Slowly, the administration arrives at a final solution in which almost the whole town participates. Bolano allows us to see how easily ordinary people became complicit in a greater evil, even if at a base level it was their evil: "This country has tried to topple any number of countries into the abyss in the name of purity and will. As far as I'm concerned, you understand, purity and will are utter tripe... "...now we sob and moan and say we didn't know! we had no idea! it was the Nazis! we never would have done such a thing! We know how to whimper. We know how to drum up sympathy. We don't care whether we're mocked so long as they pity us and forgive us. There'll be plenty of time for us to embark on a long holiday of forgetting..." Unfortunately, we never get close enough to the perpetrator(s) of the Femicide to understand who is responsible, let alone its motivation or cause. In the case of the Holocaust, we ask why ordinary people didn't refuse to participate in Genocide, whereas in the case of the Femicide we ask why the law enforcement agencies have been so incapable of finding the perpetrators and guaranteeing the safety of women and girls in the future. Barbarism Plagues a World Rich and Magnificent Are we, then, fighting a "doomed battle against barbarism?" Sometimes, you have to wonder whether the banality might be a natural or valid response to the chaos all around us: "In one of his last notes he mentions the chaos of the universe and says that only in chaos are we conceivable." Elsewhere, Bolano is more optimistic, recognising that "life is a mystery", but describing chaos as a "reflection of the world, rich and magnificent despite war and injustice." Family Communion Perhaps something positive emerges from the manner in which we confront chaos and evil: "In that hurricane, in that osseous implosion, we find communion. The communion of coincidence and effect, and the communion of effect with us." For all the chaos, it's still possible for a sense of unity to prevail, especially at the level of family. It's important that unity doesn't necessarily imply singularity. Unity can result from juxtaposition. It can derive from a composite of discrete things (like the paintings of Arcimboldo). Not only is family part of the express subject matter of the novel, but it was a constant preoccupation for Bolano during the five years it took him to write the novel. He suffered from a lethal liver disease and was waiting for a transplant at the time he died of complications. His novel formed part of the financial legacy he wished to leave his family. He did everything for his family: "My only country is my two children and wife and perhaps, though in second place, some moments, streets, faces or books that are in me..." When These Stars Cast Their Light These other moments are "a proliferation of instants, brief interludes" that reveal the relationship between past and present. They can be captured in art and literature, and perpetuated in time, into the future: "...we never stop clinging to life, because we are life. One might also say: we're theatre, we're music." Culture that survives from the past continues to enlighten the present like the light of stars. We can only hope that it will enlighten the future as well: "When these stars cast their light, we didn't exist, life on Earth didn't exist, even Earth didn't exist. This light was cast a long time ago. It's the past, we're surrounded by the past, everything that no longer exists or exists only in memory or guesswork is there now, shining on the mountains and the snow and we can't do anything to stop it. "An old book is the past, too, a book written and published in 1789 is the past, its author no longer exists, neither does its printer or the ones who read it first or the time when it was written, but the book, the first edition of that book, is still here." I hope this book lives on in the memory and for the benefit of Bolano's wife Carolina and their two children, Alexandra and Lautaro. I hope you can overcome any apprehension about its length and subject matter and experience the enlightenment within. Bolano's world is both past and present, but most importantly, it is rich and magnificent and true. For the End of 2666 "...and that's it, friends. I've done it all. I've lived it all. If I had the strength, I would cry. I bid you all goodbye..." "Surround Sister, Take Care of Me" I started to read this novel over a long weekend. On the Sunday, our 16 year old daughter (left with older sister in the photo below from a retro party the previous night) went shopping in the city, while we saw a film. She is worldly, but still a beautiful, innocent and generous soul. When we picked her up, she was quite distressed. A 30 year old male had accosted her in public and refused to let go of her hand after shaking it. She said she had to meet her parents. He said, phone them and tell them you've been kidnapped. Women and girls are still not safe. Anywhere. Unfortunately, the experience of life exposes us to both light and dark. Which is why this novel is so powerful. It tells the truth. The truth can happen to us all. https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=9DgyeIm... "An Oasis of Horror in a Desert of Boredom" (Epigraph) From Charles Baudelaire - "The Voyage" Also translated: "An oasis of horror in a desert of ennui." http://fleursdumal.org/poem/231 "Welcome to the Desert of the Real" "If once we were able to view the Borges fable in which the cartographers of the Empire draw up a map so detailed that it ends up covering the territory exactly (the decline of the Empire witnesses the fraying of this map, little by little, and its fall into ruins, though some shreds are still discernible in the deserts — the metaphysical beauty of this ruined abstraction testifying to a pride equal to the Empire and rotting like a carcass, returning to the substance of the soil, a bit as the double ends by being confused with the real through aging) — as the most beautiful allegory of simulation, this fable has now come full circle for us, and possesses nothing but the discrete charm of second-order simulacra... "It is the real, and not the map, whose vestiges persist here and there in the deserts that are no longer those of the Empire, but ours. The desert of the real itself. Jean Baudrillard - "Simulacra and Simulations", published by University of Michigan Press, 1994 [Translated by Sheila Faria Glaser] "What Treasure Hidden in a Desert Cave" "That sense of time, ah, the diseased man's sense of time, what treasure hidden in a desert cave... "They seemed suddenly to freeze, lose all sense of time, and turn completely inward, as if they were bypassing the abyss of daily life, the abyss of people, the abyss of conversation, and decided to approach a kind of lakeside region, a late-romantic region, where the borders were clocked from dusk to dusk, ten, fifteen, twenty minutes, and eternity, like the minutes of those condemned to die, like the minutes of women who’ve just given birth and are condemned to die, who understand that more time isn’t more eternity and nevertheless wish with all their souls for more time, and their wails are birds that come flying every so often across the double lakeside landscape, so calmly, like luxurious excrescences or heartbeats. Then, naturally, the three men would emerge stiff from the silence and go back to talking about inventions, women, Finnish philology, the building of highways across the Reich." Roberto Bolano, "2666" A Sea of Seeming and Rabid Immaturity "Metaphors are our way of losing ourselves in semblances or treading water in a sea of seeming..." "[Arcimboldo] the Milanese painter's technique struck him as happiness personified. The end of semblance." "Only Ansky's wandering isn't semblance, he thought, only Ansky at fourteen isn't semblance. Ansky lived his whole life in rabid immaturity because the revolution, the one true revolution, is also immature." Roberto Bolano, "2666" Mezcal Haiku This here's the rub: Bolano is the mezcal, Vollmann's just the grub. "Unhappy Readymade" "It's a Duchamp idea, leaving a geometry book hanging exposed to the elements to see if it learns something about real life...he had liked disparaging 'the seriousness of a book full of principles...in its exposure to the weather, the treatise seriously got the facts of life'...I hung it there to see how it survives the assault of nature, to see how it survives this desert climate...Just pretend the book doesn't exist..." Marcel Duchamp - "Unhappy Readymade" (1919) The readymade must be exposed to life before it can be happy...or wise.
I read this during a weird time in my life. It was pretty amazing.
I think Teddy is my favorite.