Reviews

Reli esse livro, agora para escrever um artigo, e fiquei com uma impressão melhor do que na primeira leitura. A tensão que Bioy monta para culminar na revelação do conceito que alinha toda a novela não era particularmente atrativa para mim, mas já saber o que está acontecendo e poder acompanhar a história a partir desse ponto de vista torna a leitura mais agradável intelectualmente. Cabe também dizer que a edição da Biblioteca Azul é bastante superior à da Rocco: a tradução é mais refinada, guardando o ritmo literário, e as notas e comentários são um acréscimo útil sempre que lemos algo assim celebrado, ainda mais quando, como eu, com fins de pesquisa.

heraldin's review against another edition

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mysterious reflective slow-paced

Plot- or character-driven? Character
Strong character development? No
Loveable characters? No
Diverse cast of characters? No
Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated

5.0

scunareader's review against another edition

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3.0

I was right. This book is like an episode of the Twilight Zone (black and white) and Casares is the haute literature Rod Serling. Creepy.

See? I can't even write a decent review of this novella. I will say that, like another reviewer on GR wrote, there are no superfluous sentences here. Each one is necessary and is a stepping stone to the end. I don't get the Louise Brooks bit, though.

helgamharb's review against another edition

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4.0

The dead remain in the midst of the living.

The Invention of Morel is a satirical tale which questions the boundaries between fantasy, imagination and reality, exploring the subject of man, God and immortality. Where are we going? Where were we before?

The narrator of the story who is wanted by the authorities, takes refuge on an uninhabited island, where there is a museum, a chapel, a swimming pool, a stairway, a secret door, mirrors and a mysterious deadly disease.

My life was so unbearable that I decided to go there anyway.

But who built this place? And why did they abandon it?

At first he assumes he is alone.

When one is alone it is impossible to be dead.

But after some time he sees people and among them he sees Faustine and falls in love with her.

She watches the sunset every afternoon; from my hiding place I watch her. Yesterday, and again today, I discovered that my nights and days wait for this hour.

She sits there, as if posing for an invisible photographer; she surpasses the calm of the sunset.
But why doesn't she notice him? Come to think of it, why nobody seems to see him? Why does he feel the same actions and conversations of the people repeat every day? Why are there two moons and two suns in the sky?
Is he hallucinating? Has he lost his sanity? What is real and what is an illusion?

I think I must be in hell.

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