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jimmylorunning's review against another edition
4.0
La Osita and el Lobo, armed with the caps of mushrooms and cuneiforms forming nightvisions by sidetracked autobahns, carrying only the sin of excess imagination, travel en route of stopped time, which is a form of brussel sprouts, as by re-routing scientific observations about skylarks at rest while gliding in rest areas, they also find a way of being explorers like ancient ships do, clear to the back of the fog, or simply, with Fafner, their VW, sounding out the silences between trucks, like the hollow in the mouth of the waves that break against it, while headlights illuminate the interior soundtrack of a jellyfish, and by morn the "progress" which is a mourning of movement, of "passing", where the freeway becomes a habit that stings of peculiarity, each dream in its acuity bringing itself into deeper relief, like the lines in a face showing only memories, though we live in the 21st century, though we can still write a yellow book of celebration, though we can be anachronistic to the core, where a longing lurks within all its joy.
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All corny prosifying aside, and without recapping the content of the book (read the other GR reviews for that, they're good), I just want to say that there is a kind of subtext to this whole book of joy... that even though I believe their joy is genuine, I also feel like there is something forced about it. Not that they are lying, but that there is something they are fighting against, both in the world and within themselves perhaps, and that for this they must use all their imaginations. Something about this book, though deceptively casual and without consequence and completely joyful, is also kind of heavy with the weight of the real world.
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All corny prosifying aside, and without recapping the content of the book (read the other GR reviews for that, they're good), I just want to say that there is a kind of subtext to this whole book of joy... that even though I believe their joy is genuine, I also feel like there is something forced about it. Not that they are lying, but that there is something they are fighting against, both in the world and within themselves perhaps, and that for this they must use all their imaginations. Something about this book, though deceptively casual and without consequence and completely joyful, is also kind of heavy with the weight of the real world.
litsirk's review against another edition
4.0
It may not be amazing as a book, but it's very touching and lovable as a record of two people having the best time of their lives, as boring as that can seem.
daviddavidkatzman's review against another edition
5.0
What a wonderful book. Part essay, part travelogue with a smattering of fiction, it's an indescribable blend of humor, sadness, quirk and love. Author Julio Cortázar cooked up a plan with his second wife Carol Dunlop to drive from Paris to Marseilles in their VW bus nicknamed Fafner, the dragon. The catch is, they stopped at every single rest-stop along the way at the count of two per day, sleeping over night at the second one. This book chronicles their thoughts and notes throughout the journey. It really is a wonderful book, demonstrating how despite such odd circumstances Cortázar and Dunlop found great joy escaping the world, being not utterly isolated but separated from their responsibilities and obligations. Instead, they focused on each other, on reading, writing and observing.
Their writing covers great terrain--despite the modest terrain they are actually covering in the VW--from the philosophical to the poetic, to the mundane and pseudo-scientific. Light-hearted humor arises when they treat the journey "scientifically" with a daily "travel log" in which they indicate times of departure, weather, what they ate, where the bus was parked (facing N.W.N, for example), and so on. There was also humor in a certain ironic/exaggerated paranoia they exhibit as if their journey is threatened at times by the political powers-that-be because Cortázar was not only a writer but a political activist. As, for example, a rest area was "closed" to sabotage their journey.
Love, and the joy of their togetherness, was a major theme expressed throughout the story. Physical and emotional love. Their affection is so gentle and so poetic, reading it is near meditative in quality.
In the end, they summarize the journey, as unintentionally a Zen expedition. They set off not knowing what they would find and what they found was the beauty of existence even in the most absurd of situations. Touring rest areas.
The only aspect of the story that didn't sit well with me was the personification of Fafner, the VW bus. Admittedly, in my own past, I did briefly personify the car I had in college, a '72 Dodge Dart that my friend Dave Fagan dubbed the Death Sled. I accused said vehicle of attempting to kill me on several occasions. Its attacks included but were not limited to: a steering system that pulled to the left, windshield wipers that gave out in the middle of a torrential downpour whilst driving from Cleveland to Columbus, Ohio, and scalding burns on the thighs occasioned by the vinyl bench seat, which could achieve temperatures that could smelt iron if left exposed to direct sunlight. But despite my own experience with personifying vehicles in my youth, I was left somewhat uncomfortable with affection expressed for a motor vehicle as charmingly and innocently as it was expressed. And with no disrespect intended to the legacy of this book or Cortázar, reading their descriptions caused me to reflect on the death penalty. You see, in the U.S., the death penalty is still legal despite the immorality of the state killing a prisoner. But a corporation can't seem to die no matter the heinous crimes it commits. No matter whom it kills or what laws it breaks. A few individuals on rare occasions can be put in jail for fraud they commit within a corporation, but the corporation goes on. It rebrands. And over time, people forget. A generation later, a brand that was once conservative can become hip. A brand that once poisoned an ocean, can be forgiven. Volkswagen was, as you can learn from a quick trip to Wikipedia, founded by the Nazi Party. And Volkswagen's formative years were spent making all sorts of vehicles for the war effort. Hitler himself took a person interest in the success of Volkswagen. Rather ironic how the VW bus and the VW beetle became symbols of the hippie movement in the sixties, isn't it? Not only ironic, but it demonstrates how brands and Capitalism can swallow up idealism and sell it back to you. Levis is one of the current brands that is trying to advertise in the spirit of the Occupy movement. As if, somehow, wearing Levis makes you more free, more independent minded and more creative. Brands want us to personify their products in order to develop an emotional relationship with them and choose to purchase them again. Generating emotion in advertising is a core trick to drive sales. A trick that often has nothing whatsoever to do with the product itself. Think of Coke. Or Pepsi. And Cortazar being an ardent Socialist, I couldn't help but wonder why he allowed himself to be seduced by this product. So...I couldn't help but not find emotional affection for a VW bus as less charming than it was intended to be.
At any rate, this is wholly my own reaction to this aspect of the book and despite the digression it sent me off in my own mind, I can none-the-less whole-heartedly recommend this book.
Their writing covers great terrain--despite the modest terrain they are actually covering in the VW--from the philosophical to the poetic, to the mundane and pseudo-scientific. Light-hearted humor arises when they treat the journey "scientifically" with a daily "travel log" in which they indicate times of departure, weather, what they ate, where the bus was parked (facing N.W.N, for example), and so on. There was also humor in a certain ironic/exaggerated paranoia they exhibit as if their journey is threatened at times by the political powers-that-be because Cortázar was not only a writer but a political activist. As, for example, a rest area was "closed" to sabotage their journey.
Love, and the joy of their togetherness, was a major theme expressed throughout the story. Physical and emotional love. Their affection is so gentle and so poetic, reading it is near meditative in quality.
Spoiler
Which makes it all the more tragic to read the concluding chapter where Cortázar notes how soon after the journey was completed, Dunlop died of an illness she had been battling. It was so sad, given their tremendous affection. And just a couple years later, Cortázar dies!In the end, they summarize the journey, as unintentionally a Zen expedition. They set off not knowing what they would find and what they found was the beauty of existence even in the most absurd of situations. Touring rest areas.
The only aspect of the story that didn't sit well with me was the personification of Fafner, the VW bus. Admittedly, in my own past, I did briefly personify the car I had in college, a '72 Dodge Dart that my friend Dave Fagan dubbed the Death Sled. I accused said vehicle of attempting to kill me on several occasions. Its attacks included but were not limited to: a steering system that pulled to the left, windshield wipers that gave out in the middle of a torrential downpour whilst driving from Cleveland to Columbus, Ohio, and scalding burns on the thighs occasioned by the vinyl bench seat, which could achieve temperatures that could smelt iron if left exposed to direct sunlight. But despite my own experience with personifying vehicles in my youth, I was left somewhat uncomfortable with affection expressed for a motor vehicle as charmingly and innocently as it was expressed. And with no disrespect intended to the legacy of this book or Cortázar, reading their descriptions caused me to reflect on the death penalty. You see, in the U.S., the death penalty is still legal despite the immorality of the state killing a prisoner. But a corporation can't seem to die no matter the heinous crimes it commits. No matter whom it kills or what laws it breaks. A few individuals on rare occasions can be put in jail for fraud they commit within a corporation, but the corporation goes on. It rebrands. And over time, people forget. A generation later, a brand that was once conservative can become hip. A brand that once poisoned an ocean, can be forgiven. Volkswagen was, as you can learn from a quick trip to Wikipedia, founded by the Nazi Party. And Volkswagen's formative years were spent making all sorts of vehicles for the war effort. Hitler himself took a person interest in the success of Volkswagen. Rather ironic how the VW bus and the VW beetle became symbols of the hippie movement in the sixties, isn't it? Not only ironic, but it demonstrates how brands and Capitalism can swallow up idealism and sell it back to you. Levis is one of the current brands that is trying to advertise in the spirit of the Occupy movement. As if, somehow, wearing Levis makes you more free, more independent minded and more creative. Brands want us to personify their products in order to develop an emotional relationship with them and choose to purchase them again. Generating emotion in advertising is a core trick to drive sales. A trick that often has nothing whatsoever to do with the product itself. Think of Coke. Or Pepsi. And Cortazar being an ardent Socialist, I couldn't help but wonder why he allowed himself to be seduced by this product. So...I couldn't help but not find emotional affection for a VW bus as less charming than it was intended to be.
At any rate, this is wholly my own reaction to this aspect of the book and despite the digression it sent me off in my own mind, I can none-the-less whole-heartedly recommend this book.
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