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fictionjunky's review against another edition
2.0
This is all kinds of 'meh.' I much rather prefer his novels.
trashstaaar's review against another edition
emotional
reflective
3.0
Bolaño’s writing always feels really personal to me, reading him feels like an old friend telling me a story. Unfortunately, his poetry felt like the opposite of it. A lot of the poems seemed to stem from his own life, as his prose often does too, but instead of invoking the usual connection I feel to him, I almost felt like I was reading something that was too private for me to see. As if I got a hold of his diary and read a bunch of entries or something. I’m sure it might be the cultural differences, as well as some meaning possibly getting lost in translation, but I simply couldn’t relate or get in anyway drawn towards any of the writings.
I do however admit I have near zero prior experience with poetry, so perhaps it’s just not my thing or I need some more practice before I can really get it. I might give this another shot if I ever do get more into the genre.
I do however admit I have near zero prior experience with poetry, so perhaps it’s just not my thing or I need some more practice before I can really get it. I might give this another shot if I ever do get more into the genre.
kilburnadam's review against another edition
5.0
Roberto Bolaño's literary career was a winding journey that led to the publication of his groundbreaking novel, The Savage Detectives, cementing him as one of the greatest novelists of his time. Yet, it was his earlier work, The Romantic Dogs, a collection of poetry, that truly showcased his mastery of language and imagery. Through his concise and emotive poems, Bolaño offered a powerful insight into characters navigating a violent and unpredictable world, delving into themes of love, loss, and memory. The collection displays Bolaño's versatility, proving his ability to create remarkable characters in both prose and poetry.
The Romantic Dogs reflects Bolaño's soulful exploration of disillusionment and the unattainability of true love and happiness. Despite personal struggles, Bolaño remained committed to his craft, using writing as a tool to define his identity. His writing portrays a world in which political figures are equally corrupt, drawing on his life experiences and voracious reading habits to develop a unique voice.
Bolaño's refusal to be limited by political or artistic ideology is what makes his writing all the more remarkable. Ultimately, his work serves as a testament to his immense talent and unwavering dedication to his craft. As Bolaño once said, "We last only as long as our fictions." In The Romantic Dogs, Bolaño's fiction captures the complexities of human experience, leaving a lasting impact on readers and solidifying his place among the greatest writers of his generation.
The Romantic Dogs reflects Bolaño's soulful exploration of disillusionment and the unattainability of true love and happiness. Despite personal struggles, Bolaño remained committed to his craft, using writing as a tool to define his identity. His writing portrays a world in which political figures are equally corrupt, drawing on his life experiences and voracious reading habits to develop a unique voice.
Bolaño's refusal to be limited by political or artistic ideology is what makes his writing all the more remarkable. Ultimately, his work serves as a testament to his immense talent and unwavering dedication to his craft. As Bolaño once said, "We last only as long as our fictions." In The Romantic Dogs, Bolaño's fiction captures the complexities of human experience, leaving a lasting impact on readers and solidifying his place among the greatest writers of his generation.
lookhome's review against another edition
4.0
These could be seen as Borges like in their poetic, narrative simplicity.
My first Bolano outing but definitely not the last.
A wonderful collection or poetry of that sings and leaves the reader in a trance.
My first Bolano outing but definitely not the last.
A wonderful collection or poetry of that sings and leaves the reader in a trance.
budokanwarp's review against another edition
adventurous
dark
emotional
funny
reflective
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
4.5
jnate2002's review against another edition
challenging
emotional
inspiring
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? N/A
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? N/A
- Diverse cast of characters? N/A
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
3.5
Never really read much poetry but I decided to pick this up for shits and gigs, I love poetry now.
adamz24's review against another edition
3.0
This was alright. I read it pretty fast, and I read it on a mild dose of some kinda speed and while dipping tobacco. Maybe I should've read it when drunk or feeling desperately in love or cinematically inclined? If you're into what Bolaño's about fiction-wise, you'll find things to like and admire here. The language, especially, can be awful pretty. But I really don't get why Bolaño thought he was a better poet than novelist. I read Antwerp right before this, which I guess is the midway point between this, and like, The Savage Detectives or 2666 form-wise, and Antwerp was fucking genius. So this was a comedown. Yeah.
thirdcoast's review against another edition
I don't speak or read Spanish, so some of the poems in this collection may not have come through as well in translation. That being said, what I enjoyed about this collection is the dreamy quality of the poems. It were as if they took place in the fevered thoughts of a sick man. Places and people appear, fade, and re-appear jumbled together as if trying to make sense of some moment.
The other strong point is Bolaño's ability to embrace perspective. Most of the poems are told in the first person, but not necessarily from Bolaño's perspective. He embodies a voice and the reader comes to understand the narrator.
I've been reading this on and off while reading the Savage Detectives. The two complement each other and parts of the poems have turned up in that novel.
The other strong point is Bolaño's ability to embrace perspective. Most of the poems are told in the first person, but not necessarily from Bolaño's perspective. He embodies a voice and the reader comes to understand the narrator.
I've been reading this on and off while reading the Savage Detectives. The two complement each other and parts of the poems have turned up in that novel.
lordllama's review against another edition
4.0
As with a lot of poetry collections, there are going to be poems that just aren't as good as others or, in Bolaño's case, poems that, I think, are too bizarre for anyone to grasp in any sense. But I think that's what he was going for.
jfl's review against another edition
4.0
I must admit that I struggle with poetry. Of all the literary forms, it seems to take the most work. I think that I am perhaps too lazy—either unable or unwilling to expend the energy required to get poetry’s message or messages. It is not that I haven’t worked at understanding poetic conventions. I spent a semester in college in a course on modern British and American poetry in general. And I have taken both undergraduate and graduate courses dealing specific poets (Ruben Dario and the modernistas; Garcia Lorca; Vicente Aleixandre; Juan Ramon Jimenez; T. S. Eliot). I also studied with Carlos Bousoño, working through his “Teoría de la expresión poética”. But with all of that, I still struggle with the art form.
My son-in-law first introduced Robert Bolaño to me. I am not certain exactly how I missed his emergence into the forefront of contemporary Spanish letters. But that introduction—“By Night in Chile”—did not leave me overwhelmed. I have added several of his other works in fiction to my reading list, convinced that I need to keep an open mind. It was that conviction that let me to his poetry, where he made his first marks.
“The Romantic Dogs” is a collection of some 44 poems written by Bolaño between 1980 and 1998. It is a bi-lingual publication with the Spanish translated into English by Laura Healy. Understanding my own struggles with the medium, the poems are not easy. One reviewer characterized them as “intimate, moving, and witty.” They are certainly intimate and perhaps moving but, for me, not witty. I see them as dark, raw, probing. Many left me uncomfortably numb. Here the opening stanza of “El Ultimo Salvaje”:
Salí de la última función a las calles vacías. El esqueleto
pasó junto a mí, temblando, colgado del asta
de un camión de basura. Grandes gorros amarillos
ocultaban el rostro de los basureros, aun así creí reconocerlo:
un viejo amigo. ¡Aquí estamos!, me dije a mí mismo
unas doscientas veces,
hasta que el camión desapareció en una esquina.
I spent time with the poems, generally reading and re-reading one or two over several days. Time did not make them any easier for me. Apart the feeling they left me with, I really don’t know if I truly understood them.
My son-in-law first introduced Robert Bolaño to me. I am not certain exactly how I missed his emergence into the forefront of contemporary Spanish letters. But that introduction—“By Night in Chile”—did not leave me overwhelmed. I have added several of his other works in fiction to my reading list, convinced that I need to keep an open mind. It was that conviction that let me to his poetry, where he made his first marks.
“The Romantic Dogs” is a collection of some 44 poems written by Bolaño between 1980 and 1998. It is a bi-lingual publication with the Spanish translated into English by Laura Healy. Understanding my own struggles with the medium, the poems are not easy. One reviewer characterized them as “intimate, moving, and witty.” They are certainly intimate and perhaps moving but, for me, not witty. I see them as dark, raw, probing. Many left me uncomfortably numb. Here the opening stanza of “El Ultimo Salvaje”:
Salí de la última función a las calles vacías. El esqueleto
pasó junto a mí, temblando, colgado del asta
de un camión de basura. Grandes gorros amarillos
ocultaban el rostro de los basureros, aun así creí reconocerlo:
un viejo amigo. ¡Aquí estamos!, me dije a mí mismo
unas doscientas veces,
hasta que el camión desapareció en una esquina.
I spent time with the poems, generally reading and re-reading one or two over several days. Time did not make them any easier for me. Apart the feeling they left me with, I really don’t know if I truly understood them.