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bikesandbooks_goat 's review for:
Down the Rabbit Hole
by Juan Pablo Villalobos
Down the Rabbit Hole is a novella by Mexican writer Juan Pablos Villalobos. Originally published as Fiesta en la madriguera, it was translated into English by Rosalind Harvey. No less than “The Googles” illustrious Translator informs me that the Spanish language title translates to “Party in the burrow.” I rather prefer that “translation” over that given to English by the actual translator. ¿But maybe I just leave that up to Miss Rosalind?
This story is sordid, so says the narrator, a precocious kid we’ll call Rabbit. His father, we’ll call him Snake, is a macho drug lord[*] devoted to his precious son. Surprisingly, Snake creates a wholesome environment, as wholesome as any drug lord can create. The little bunny is sheltered and wealthy; his comfortable existence made possible inside a fiercely protected burrow guarded by a select warren of servile minions-guards and tutors. Most of what Rabbit knows he learns through books, tutors and attentive observation. He knows little of the real world outside. Rabbit portrays no suspicions and reveals no experience of danger. Every whim is an indulgence of his own unguarded interests revealed with wonderment of novel specimens and portrayed as innocence. Rabbit’s life is an almost ideal environment.
Rabbit as a character is tight and mesmerizing; his thoughts are polarizing and attractive. The author, Villalobos, holds readers wrapped, suspended and frozen only to launch twisting insights of fading innocence. For example, the French are most admirable because they not only invented the guillotine, they also brought civility to the act of beheading by catching severed heads in a bucket. Or did you know that hats are a fashion necessity and a dying standard which modern humanity fails to uphold? And did you realize you cannot create a corpse by only shooting holes through a persons hair? In time life in the burrow looses it’s innocence to become repugnant, fascinating and devastating.
* Now you may be thinking this novella is another tired entry in a wasted narcoliteratura genre, but it’s NOT. Nope. This is boundary pushing art. This is what the introduction tells us. ¡I don’t make these things up!
This story is sordid, so says the narrator, a precocious kid we’ll call Rabbit. His father, we’ll call him Snake, is a macho drug lord[*] devoted to his precious son. Surprisingly, Snake creates a wholesome environment, as wholesome as any drug lord can create. The little bunny is sheltered and wealthy; his comfortable existence made possible inside a fiercely protected burrow guarded by a select warren of servile minions-guards and tutors. Most of what Rabbit knows he learns through books, tutors and attentive observation. He knows little of the real world outside. Rabbit portrays no suspicions and reveals no experience of danger. Every whim is an indulgence of his own unguarded interests revealed with wonderment of novel specimens and portrayed as innocence. Rabbit’s life is an almost ideal environment.
Rabbit as a character is tight and mesmerizing; his thoughts are polarizing and attractive. The author, Villalobos, holds readers wrapped, suspended and frozen only to launch twisting insights of fading innocence. For example, the French are most admirable because they not only invented the guillotine, they also brought civility to the act of beheading by catching severed heads in a bucket. Or did you know that hats are a fashion necessity and a dying standard which modern humanity fails to uphold? And did you realize you cannot create a corpse by only shooting holes through a persons hair? In time life in the burrow looses it’s innocence to become repugnant, fascinating and devastating.
* Now you may be thinking this novella is another tired entry in a wasted narcoliteratura genre, but it’s NOT. Nope. This is boundary pushing art. This is what the introduction tells us. ¡I don’t make these things up!