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diandrouspetrocosmea's reviews
22 reviews
Navidad & Matanza by Carlos Labbé
3.0
I received this novel as a Goodreads First Read prize. My rating is more towards a 3.25 or 3.5 out of five stars.
Which story is true: that of the trapped test subjects writing a novel-game as they await an unknown fate, or that of the journalist on the trail of disappearances? This experimental mystery centers around the mysterious rage drug “hadón,” which gives it a vague genre edge. Aside from the deadly fits of fury, other desires amongst characters are comparably repressed, hinted at with images and speculated upon by the narrator(s).
Subtle perspective and voice changes sneak up on the reader, although whether they come from separate characters is up for debate. The voice(s) also seem overwhelmingly male, middle-class, and educated; which has basis in the plot but can be limited in how the female characters are portrayed. Each chapter is numbered, with jumps in numbers suggesting missing installments. As translated from Spanish by Will Vanderhyden, the prose is also spare, describing with strong voice and momentum in some passages. These empty drops and inconclusiveness in stories echo the holes and lack of complete knowledge surrounding real-life disappearances in Chile.
There’s another theme about how games, imagination, and recreation can become tools for serious conspiracy or disruption. Some readers would find the book frustrating, and I’m not sure this experiment is 100% successful. However, the puzzle as well as the atmosphere of Navidad & Matanza lingered in my mind long after reading this slim book.
Which story is true: that of the trapped test subjects writing a novel-game as they await an unknown fate, or that of the journalist on the trail of disappearances? This experimental mystery centers around the mysterious rage drug “hadón,” which gives it a vague genre edge. Aside from the deadly fits of fury, other desires amongst characters are comparably repressed, hinted at with images and speculated upon by the narrator(s).
Subtle perspective and voice changes sneak up on the reader, although whether they come from separate characters is up for debate. The voice(s) also seem overwhelmingly male, middle-class, and educated; which has basis in the plot but can be limited in how the female characters are portrayed. Each chapter is numbered, with jumps in numbers suggesting missing installments. As translated from Spanish by Will Vanderhyden, the prose is also spare, describing with strong voice and momentum in some passages. These empty drops and inconclusiveness in stories echo the holes and lack of complete knowledge surrounding real-life disappearances in Chile.
There’s another theme about how games, imagination, and recreation can become tools for serious conspiracy or disruption. Some readers would find the book frustrating, and I’m not sure this experiment is 100% successful. However, the puzzle as well as the atmosphere of Navidad & Matanza lingered in my mind long after reading this slim book.
His Own Man by Kim Hastings, Edgard Telles Ribeiro
4.0
“There are deaths that snuff out a single life. And others that, like military coups, finish off an entire generation.”
I received a copy of this book through the First Reads Program. My rating is closer to 3.75 stars than a full-fledged four.
His Own Man is one character’s investigation of the history and mind of his former friend and fellow diplomat: Marcílio Andrade Xavier, nicknamed Max, later codenamed “Sam Beckett.” The fascinating manipulations and maneuvering begin around Brazil’s military coup of 1964; (somewhat conveniently) winding through South America, the United States, and Europe for decades onward. Both the narration and the dialogue can be quite verbose with context and discussion, which can some times get in the way of appreciating the characters and story. However, the translation seems smooth, and a clear questioning voice carries the novel.
Ribeiro is strongest when describing behavior; particularly of those shaping and shaped by power, and those thrashing through or forever changed by fear. Max may joke that “Horror lives next door,” but even a relatively privileged diplomat like himself can’t completely escape the violence of that era. The narrator’s own culpability is briefly mentioned here and there, but is likely set in deliberate relief to the flagrant machinations of Max. This narrator should have heeded his own criticism and omitted the postscript of the final chapter, but otherwise it’s a graceful end for a novel about personal examination.
I received a copy of this book through the First Reads Program. My rating is closer to 3.75 stars than a full-fledged four.
His Own Man is one character’s investigation of the history and mind of his former friend and fellow diplomat: Marcílio Andrade Xavier, nicknamed Max, later codenamed “Sam Beckett.” The fascinating manipulations and maneuvering begin around Brazil’s military coup of 1964; (somewhat conveniently) winding through South America, the United States, and Europe for decades onward. Both the narration and the dialogue can be quite verbose with context and discussion, which can some times get in the way of appreciating the characters and story. However, the translation seems smooth, and a clear questioning voice carries the novel.
Ribeiro is strongest when describing behavior; particularly of those shaping and shaped by power, and those thrashing through or forever changed by fear. Max may joke that “Horror lives next door,” but even a relatively privileged diplomat like himself can’t completely escape the violence of that era. The narrator’s own culpability is briefly mentioned here and there, but is likely set in deliberate relief to the flagrant machinations of Max. This narrator should have heeded his own criticism and omitted the postscript of the final chapter, but otherwise it’s a graceful end for a novel about personal examination.
Africa39: New Writing from Africa South of the Sahara by Lola Shoneyin, Shafinaaz Hassim, A. Igoni Barrett, Jack Willow, Taiye Selasi, Edwige-Renée Dro, Ondjaki, Chibundu Onuzo, Nana Ekua Brew-Hammond, Mehul Gohil, Ndinda Kioko, Recaredo Silebo Boturu, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, Stankey Onjezani Kenani, Dinaw Mengestu, Zukiswa Wanner, Nii Ayikwei Parkes, Linda Musita, Eileen Almeida Barbosa, Shadreck Chikoti, Abubakar Adam Ibrahim, Novuyo Rosa Tshuma, Nadifa Mohamed, Stanley Gazemba, Mary Watson, Monica Arac de Nyeko, Ukamaka Olisakwe, H.J. Golakai, Clifton Gachagua, Jackee Budesta Batanda, Richard Ali A Mutu, Namwali Serpell, Chika Unigwe, Okwiri Oduor, Nthikeng Mohlele, Wole Soyinka, Rotimi Babatunde, Sifiso Mzobe, Glaydah Namukasa, Tope Folarin, Mohamed Yunus Rafiq
4.0
I'm glad to have received an Advance Reading Copy of this book through the FirstReads program, because this is one of the better writing anthologies I've read in a while. The selections in Africa 39 represent sixteen sub-Saharan countries and a variety of genres and experiences. After a very strident introduction by Wole Soyinka (in which I'm not sure I understood all the context for his comments,) the stories begin with solid entries from Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie ("The Shivering"), Monica Arac de Nyeko ("The Banana Eater"). My favorite piece was Eileen Almeida Barbosa's mellifluous and passionate "Two Fragments of Love," and I hope more of her work is translated into English. Also striking were the simmering anger of Ondjaki's "I'm Going to Make Changes to the Kitchen," the intellectual romance of Edwige-Renée Dro's "The Professor," and the coming-out heartbreak of Ukamaka Olisakwe's "This is How I Remember It."
There are also many novel excerpts, which range in quality. Often, they tend to feel more like promotional previews than self-contained works, but quite a few stand on their own, like Rotimi Babatunde's rendering of a meeting during European colonization, Tope Folarin's engaging family drama, Glaydah Namuka's portrait of a child continually forced from one home to another, and Lola Shoyenin's unapologetic narration for a woman deemed Harlot. Shadreck Chikoti's intriguing sci-fi situation convinced me to look forward to the publication of the full novel of Azotus, the Kingdom. However, I wasn't engaged by the basic police procedural vibe of the excerpt from Hawa Jande Golaki's The Score. A better portrayal of crime comes from Sifiso Mzobe's chapter "By the Tracks," in which a guard for an affluent neighborhood is led to the scene of a ghastly murder. The strongest excerpt, however, is the diptych created by the selection from Dinaw Mengestu's All Our Names, starting with a legend about a city kept alive in dreams, and ending with a beguiling fragment about specific characters living in fear.
Many of the stories are straightforward yet satisfying, like "The Old Man and the Pub," by Stanley Onjezani Kenani, and "Number 9" by Nadifa Mohamed. There's a lingering contemplative mood in "Sometime Before Maulidi" by Ndinda Kioko. Nana Ekua Brew-Hammond renders a capable continent and diaspora allegory in "Mama's Future," while Okwiri Oduor pulls off a surprising perspective flip in "Rag Doll."
Clifton Gachagua writes a psychedelic torrent of words for a story, "No Kissing the Dolls Unless Jimi Hendrix is Playing," that is sometimes baffling but ultimately intriguing. Stanley Gazemba's prose in "Talking Money" is somewhat stilted as he attempts to convey a folk storytelling tone for his fable. The weaker selections tend to be too abrupt, even short stories like Zukiswa Wanner's "Migrant Labour." However, "Hope's Hunter" by Mohamed Yunus Rafiq is an imaginative and graceful conclusion for the volume.
There are also many novel excerpts, which range in quality. Often, they tend to feel more like promotional previews than self-contained works, but quite a few stand on their own, like Rotimi Babatunde's rendering of a meeting during European colonization, Tope Folarin's engaging family drama, Glaydah Namuka's portrait of a child continually forced from one home to another, and Lola Shoyenin's unapologetic narration for a woman deemed Harlot. Shadreck Chikoti's intriguing sci-fi situation convinced me to look forward to the publication of the full novel of Azotus, the Kingdom. However, I wasn't engaged by the basic police procedural vibe of the excerpt from Hawa Jande Golaki's The Score. A better portrayal of crime comes from Sifiso Mzobe's chapter "By the Tracks," in which a guard for an affluent neighborhood is led to the scene of a ghastly murder. The strongest excerpt, however, is the diptych created by the selection from Dinaw Mengestu's All Our Names, starting with a legend about a city kept alive in dreams, and ending with a beguiling fragment about specific characters living in fear.
Many of the stories are straightforward yet satisfying, like "The Old Man and the Pub," by Stanley Onjezani Kenani, and "Number 9" by Nadifa Mohamed. There's a lingering contemplative mood in "Sometime Before Maulidi" by Ndinda Kioko. Nana Ekua Brew-Hammond renders a capable continent and diaspora allegory in "Mama's Future," while Okwiri Oduor pulls off a surprising perspective flip in "Rag Doll."
Clifton Gachagua writes a psychedelic torrent of words for a story, "No Kissing the Dolls Unless Jimi Hendrix is Playing," that is sometimes baffling but ultimately intriguing. Stanley Gazemba's prose in "Talking Money" is somewhat stilted as he attempts to convey a folk storytelling tone for his fable. The weaker selections tend to be too abrupt, even short stories like Zukiswa Wanner's "Migrant Labour." However, "Hope's Hunter" by Mohamed Yunus Rafiq is an imaginative and graceful conclusion for the volume.