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challenging
dark
emotional
informative
reflective
tense
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Plot
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
N/A
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated
I can honestly say I've never read a book quite like this. It's a mix of historical biography, meta-fiction, and literary mystery. The author inserts himself—or at least a fictional version of himself—into the narrative and describes how he allegedly got sucked into researching & investigating a conspiracy theory about the assassination of a high-profile Colombian leader in the 1940s.
The novel's structure is a bit like a maze, with different twists and turns, not just plot-wise but also shifting in and out of different genres. I would be lying if I didn't say the middle section was quite arduous to get through, and yet I didn't ever want to give up. It was a very rewarding read, but I wasn't expecting a book that at one point was a straight-up account of 20th century Colombian history. It isn't a bad thing at all, just a very different experience than I was expecting.
There were so many passages I underlined or noted during my reading and I actually could see myself revisiting this one again in the future. I was tempted to start it over again once I finished, not necessarily because I loved it but because by the end I had such a better grasp on the book that a second reading, I presume, would be easier to follow and even more rewarding. But maybe someday I will come back to this one again, and I will definitely check out more of this author's work!
The novel's structure is a bit like a maze, with different twists and turns, not just plot-wise but also shifting in and out of different genres. I would be lying if I didn't say the middle section was quite arduous to get through, and yet I didn't ever want to give up. It was a very rewarding read, but I wasn't expecting a book that at one point was a straight-up account of 20th century Colombian history. It isn't a bad thing at all, just a very different experience than I was expecting.
There were so many passages I underlined or noted during my reading and I actually could see myself revisiting this one again in the future. I was tempted to start it over again once I finished, not necessarily because I loved it but because by the end I had such a better grasp on the book that a second reading, I presume, would be easier to follow and even more rewarding. But maybe someday I will come back to this one again, and I will definitely check out more of this author's work!
Wow this book.
Yes, even though this novel includes my pet peeve of the author including himself as a character, I still give it 5 stars.
This novel looks at political assassination conspiracies. In particular those of two Colombians--Uribe Uribe and Gaitan--as well as JFK (used more as a reference point of conspiracy theories, perhaps because it is so well known? Even in Colombia?). I spent a fair amount of time on Wikipedia reading about Uribe Uribe, Gaitan, Anzola, and Vasquez himself. I have not read any of his other books, and was happy to read that he is not a fan of magical realism (me either!).
So in this novel he looks at these assassinations and examines the conspiracy theories around them, and what this all means to Colombian history and Colombians. Do people in Colombia talk about possible conspiracies having to do with these assassinations? Or did he makes them up? I can't really tell, as I cannot read the Spanish articles I can find online. But Vasquez's real point is to wrap those theories around to show how these events affected the lives of regular people, how close his characters still are to events of 60-100 years ago, and how it all wraps around to the beginning. Yes, at the end he pulls it back to where we started.
This book is definitely not for everyone, it is intense and somewhat confusing, and I have no doubt I missed things due to my lack of knowledge about Colombian history. But I still loved it. It's long, it's complicated, and it all connects. Bravo!
And to think I only picked this up because it is on the Man Booker International short list. And it deserves to be. I did not feel like I was reading a translation--though I had to google "knuckleduster" because that is what Canadians (like the translator) call brass knuckles, apparently. Who knew? Not me.
Yes, even though this novel includes my pet peeve of the author including himself as a character, I still give it 5 stars.
This novel looks at political assassination conspiracies. In particular those of two Colombians--Uribe Uribe and Gaitan--as well as JFK (used more as a reference point of conspiracy theories, perhaps because it is so well known? Even in Colombia?). I spent a fair amount of time on Wikipedia reading about Uribe Uribe, Gaitan, Anzola, and Vasquez himself. I have not read any of his other books, and was happy to read that he is not a fan of magical realism (me either!).
So in this novel he looks at these assassinations and examines the conspiracy theories around them, and what this all means to Colombian history and Colombians. Do people in Colombia talk about possible conspiracies having to do with these assassinations? Or did he makes them up? I can't really tell, as I cannot read the Spanish articles I can find online. But Vasquez's real point is to wrap those theories around to show how these events affected the lives of regular people, how close his characters still are to events of 60-100 years ago, and how it all wraps around to the beginning. Yes, at the end he pulls it back to where we started.
This book is definitely not for everyone, it is intense and somewhat confusing, and I have no doubt I missed things due to my lack of knowledge about Colombian history. But I still loved it. It's long, it's complicated, and it all connects. Bravo!
And to think I only picked this up because it is on the Man Booker International short list. And it deserves to be. I did not feel like I was reading a translation--though I had to google "knuckleduster" because that is what Canadians (like the translator) call brass knuckles, apparently. Who knew? Not me.
challenging
dark
reflective
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
A few passages from The Shape of the Ruins:
In any case, this is all beside the point. Or is it that one is supposed to stop feeling things like this as an adult? None of that, Vázquez. Jealousy and envy make the world go round. Half of all decisions are taken out of such basic emotions as envy and jealousy. Feelings of humiliation, resentment, sexual dissatisfaction, inferiority complexes: there you have the engines of history, my dear patient. Right now someone is making a decision that affects you and me, and they’re making it for reasons like these: to harm an enemy, to get revenge for an affront, to impress a woman and sleep with her. That’s how the world works.
We were all there: I mean, those who loved R.H., those who respected him, those who neither loved nor respected him but admitted to admiring his books, those who admired his books but didn’t admit it out of envy, those who had once been the target of his derision or his direct attacks and now came to rejoice, in their corner of silent bitterness, that R.H. was no longer here to throw their mediocrity in their faces. In few places is there such a high concentration of hypocrisy as at a writer’s funeral: there, in the church, surrounding the coffin where R.H.’s body rested, there was in those moments at least one person devoting himself to the old art of pretense, of pretending sadness or desolation or depression, when deep down they were thinking that neither R.H. nor his books would be around anymore to cast a shadow.
One fine day it dawned on me that eight years had passed since our last uncomfortable and troubled conversation, and I thought it wasn’t the first time someone had disappeared from my life due to my own fault: due to my tendency to solitude and silence, due to my sometimes unjustifiable reserve, due to my inability to keep relationships alive (even those I have with people I love or genuinely interest me). This has always been one of my great defects, and it has caused me more than one disappointment and has disappointed others more than once. There’s nothing I can do about it, however, because nobody changes their nature by force of will.
Of course, that day, when you were at my house breaking my guests’ noses, you didn’t have a column at El Espectador yet. But now you do and my children read it, and Estela reads it. They almost always agree. I mean, the almost always agree with you. Less when you get aggressive, Estella detests that. She says you undermine your argument. That you might be right, but when you’re right with sarcasm, mocking others between the lines with that arrogant tone that slips out sometimes, then you’re not right anymore. And if she were here now, she’d tell you as she told me once. ‘Your friend doesn’t care about convincing anyone, he cares about going for the jugular. And that’s no way to do it. No dialogue can be built on that. It’s a shame.’ Anyway, I’m going off on a tangent, the thing is that I thought of phoning you, asking you to help me with this matter.
“What is a fanatic, Vázquez?” said Benavides. “A fanatic is a person who’s only good for one thing in this life, who discovers what that thing is and devotes all his time to it, down to the last second. That thing interests him for some special reason. Because he can do something with it, because it helps him to get money, or power, or a woman, or several women, or to feel better with himself, to feed his ego, to earn his path to heaven, to change the world. Of course, changing the world feeds an ego, brings money and power and women. People also do what they do for that, even the fanatic. Sometimes the fanatic does what he does for much more mysterious reasons, reasons that do not fall under any of the categories we’ve invented. With time these reasons get mixed up, confused, and converted into an obsession that borders on the irrational, a feeling or a personal and inevitable mission, of having been born for something. In any case, this person is distinguishable in many ways but one of them is extremely clear: he does what he has to do. He eliminates from his life all that does not serve the cause. If it’s useful, he does it or gets it. No matter what it takes.
In any case, this is all beside the point. Or is it that one is supposed to stop feeling things like this as an adult? None of that, Vázquez. Jealousy and envy make the world go round. Half of all decisions are taken out of such basic emotions as envy and jealousy. Feelings of humiliation, resentment, sexual dissatisfaction, inferiority complexes: there you have the engines of history, my dear patient. Right now someone is making a decision that affects you and me, and they’re making it for reasons like these: to harm an enemy, to get revenge for an affront, to impress a woman and sleep with her. That’s how the world works.
We were all there: I mean, those who loved R.H., those who respected him, those who neither loved nor respected him but admitted to admiring his books, those who admired his books but didn’t admit it out of envy, those who had once been the target of his derision or his direct attacks and now came to rejoice, in their corner of silent bitterness, that R.H. was no longer here to throw their mediocrity in their faces. In few places is there such a high concentration of hypocrisy as at a writer’s funeral: there, in the church, surrounding the coffin where R.H.’s body rested, there was in those moments at least one person devoting himself to the old art of pretense, of pretending sadness or desolation or depression, when deep down they were thinking that neither R.H. nor his books would be around anymore to cast a shadow.
One fine day it dawned on me that eight years had passed since our last uncomfortable and troubled conversation, and I thought it wasn’t the first time someone had disappeared from my life due to my own fault: due to my tendency to solitude and silence, due to my sometimes unjustifiable reserve, due to my inability to keep relationships alive (even those I have with people I love or genuinely interest me). This has always been one of my great defects, and it has caused me more than one disappointment and has disappointed others more than once. There’s nothing I can do about it, however, because nobody changes their nature by force of will.
Of course, that day, when you were at my house breaking my guests’ noses, you didn’t have a column at El Espectador yet. But now you do and my children read it, and Estela reads it. They almost always agree. I mean, the almost always agree with you. Less when you get aggressive, Estella detests that. She says you undermine your argument. That you might be right, but when you’re right with sarcasm, mocking others between the lines with that arrogant tone that slips out sometimes, then you’re not right anymore. And if she were here now, she’d tell you as she told me once. ‘Your friend doesn’t care about convincing anyone, he cares about going for the jugular. And that’s no way to do it. No dialogue can be built on that. It’s a shame.’ Anyway, I’m going off on a tangent, the thing is that I thought of phoning you, asking you to help me with this matter.
“What is a fanatic, Vázquez?” said Benavides. “A fanatic is a person who’s only good for one thing in this life, who discovers what that thing is and devotes all his time to it, down to the last second. That thing interests him for some special reason. Because he can do something with it, because it helps him to get money, or power, or a woman, or several women, or to feel better with himself, to feed his ego, to earn his path to heaven, to change the world. Of course, changing the world feeds an ego, brings money and power and women. People also do what they do for that, even the fanatic. Sometimes the fanatic does what he does for much more mysterious reasons, reasons that do not fall under any of the categories we’ve invented. With time these reasons get mixed up, confused, and converted into an obsession that borders on the irrational, a feeling or a personal and inevitable mission, of having been born for something. In any case, this person is distinguishable in many ways but one of them is extremely clear: he does what he has to do. He eliminates from his life all that does not serve the cause. If it’s useful, he does it or gets it. No matter what it takes.
This is a complex historical novel about conspiracy theories, death, and politics. It’s very long and very detailed, and it’s probably a good novel — I just didn’t enjoy reading it at all and wish I had chosen a different book to occupy my time.
This book started out interesting by discussing and connecting conspiracy theories of the assassinations of JFK and Gaitan. However, the story was very slow to develop and what I hoped was a fast paced novel was much more introspective. I did learn more about Columbia. I didn't finish the novel since half way through I realized that I was put to sleep just by reading a few pages of it.
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Plot
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated
Sigh. For me this book just went round and around in circles and never stopped or got anywhere. Plus when that is the feeling you're getting, having it be the length of two books is especially tedious. I'm sure it's rather literary but the story wasn't compelling enough to hold my interest.
challenging
informative
reflective
slow-paced