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A review by nateisdreaming
The Art of Flight by Sergio Pitol
5.0
I really enjoyed this book, but I'm not sure what to say about it or how to review it probably.
Its writing feels musical (and in fact, the spanish word "fuga" translates to both 'flight' and 'fugue', as the translator's afterward points out).
Its certainly not for everyone, but the people that will be drawn to it will likely love it. Its soft and gentle in a way, and it meanders like a river or a long walk does. Some of the sections disguise itself as literary criticism, so if you don't enjoy criticism, you might not like it. But even in these sections, it feels both intensely personal and also slightly mysterious and dreamlike. I picked the book up, almost on accident, after finishing Don Quixote. I hadn't heard of it, but saw it won the Cervantes Prize, so I thought it would be an appropriate book to follow that read. I have to admit it took me a while to start it though.
It presents itself as a memoir, but its a creative and "literary" memoir, and therefor should not be read as an autobiography. There are not many events -- but there are many themes. They are presented with a subtlety & confidence than only a great craftsperson can get away with. His writings on memory somewhat reminded me of WG Sebald, although I'm not sure if that's an appropriate comparison. The style and writing itself seems soft, blissful, and musical. The text flows like water.
Each chapter contains the date it was written, and the result is sort of a collage of journal entries, placed out of order. It is divided into four bigger sections. It will inevitably add a long list of books you want to read to your list. Pitol is passionate about reading, was a translator, and writes about literature as much as he writes about his life. The most touching story, for me, was about his seeing a hypnotist. There are many stylistic shifts in the book, but they are unified by his voice.
This book is the first of a "trilogy of memory" and they are all being translated by George Hensen and published by Deep Vellum. Picking up this book was a discovery for me of the translator and publisher as well as the writer. Deep Vellum is a non profit based in Texas. Hensen, who I had never heard of, did a great job with the translation -- the language works well in English, and I feel a poetry to the movement that reminds me of other translators I love Chris Andrews and Margeret Jill-Costa. (Disclaimer: I do not read any other language than English, so my assumptions on what makes a good translator might be inaccurate, and at the least aren't informed of the nuances of its craft. However, I've definitely noticed liking some translators more than others, particularly when reading widely translated writers).
Pitol has many fans in the Spanish language, including Bolano & Villa-Matis. I am very excited to have just learned about him, grateful he is starting to be translated while simultaneously disappointed he wasn't translated until now. Both this book and Roberto Bolano's Between Parenthesis discuss a novel Pitol wrote that I really, really, really hope gets translated next.
Its writing feels musical (and in fact, the spanish word "fuga" translates to both 'flight' and 'fugue', as the translator's afterward points out).
Its certainly not for everyone, but the people that will be drawn to it will likely love it. Its soft and gentle in a way, and it meanders like a river or a long walk does. Some of the sections disguise itself as literary criticism, so if you don't enjoy criticism, you might not like it. But even in these sections, it feels both intensely personal and also slightly mysterious and dreamlike. I picked the book up, almost on accident, after finishing Don Quixote. I hadn't heard of it, but saw it won the Cervantes Prize, so I thought it would be an appropriate book to follow that read. I have to admit it took me a while to start it though.
It presents itself as a memoir, but its a creative and "literary" memoir, and therefor should not be read as an autobiography. There are not many events -- but there are many themes. They are presented with a subtlety & confidence than only a great craftsperson can get away with. His writings on memory somewhat reminded me of WG Sebald, although I'm not sure if that's an appropriate comparison. The style and writing itself seems soft, blissful, and musical. The text flows like water.
Each chapter contains the date it was written, and the result is sort of a collage of journal entries, placed out of order. It is divided into four bigger sections. It will inevitably add a long list of books you want to read to your list. Pitol is passionate about reading, was a translator, and writes about literature as much as he writes about his life. The most touching story, for me, was about his seeing a hypnotist. There are many stylistic shifts in the book, but they are unified by his voice.
This book is the first of a "trilogy of memory" and they are all being translated by George Hensen and published by Deep Vellum. Picking up this book was a discovery for me of the translator and publisher as well as the writer. Deep Vellum is a non profit based in Texas. Hensen, who I had never heard of, did a great job with the translation -- the language works well in English, and I feel a poetry to the movement that reminds me of other translators I love Chris Andrews and Margeret Jill-Costa. (Disclaimer: I do not read any other language than English, so my assumptions on what makes a good translator might be inaccurate, and at the least aren't informed of the nuances of its craft. However, I've definitely noticed liking some translators more than others, particularly when reading widely translated writers).
Pitol has many fans in the Spanish language, including Bolano & Villa-Matis. I am very excited to have just learned about him, grateful he is starting to be translated while simultaneously disappointed he wasn't translated until now. Both this book and Roberto Bolano's Between Parenthesis discuss a novel Pitol wrote that I really, really, really hope gets translated next.