Radiant Terminus

Radiant Terminus Antoine Volodine (France): 2014; translated by Jeffrey Zuckerman, Open Letter, 2017.

I can see how this novel would appeal to fans of dystopian, science-fiction novels, however, it just was not my thing. The book received a lot of positive attention and Open Letter pushed it quite a bit, so I think my negative opinion is in the minority. I had the hardest time with the thousand year jumps that happened, the one minute compared to the century, the characters all living in the Bardo. There are about a dozen main characters and they are all quite clearly drawn out but they never really amount to anything. And while I am accustomed to nothing happening in novels, the nothingness in this novel was a bit monotonous. 

Atlantic Hotel

Atlantic Hotel João Gilberto Noll (Brazil): 1989; translated by Adam Morris, Two Lines Press, 2016.

This novel is like an absurdist road trip through small Brazilian towns. The main character discovers corpses wherever he goes, finds many women to spend time with, and changes his identity at any given moment as he travels. He is a solitary man, in his actions and his thoughts, yet constantly finds himself in some sort of personal interaction. A fast, well-spent read.

In Exile

In Exile Billy O’Callaghan (Ireland), Mercier, 2008.

O’Callaghan’s short story collection takes an extended view of exile, exploring it as a separation of any sort from one’s sense of belonging. Exile figures in each story in some form, from a character’s exile from the sea, to the exile we can feel in broken relationships. The more successful stories take place on Irish islands and discuss the lives lived and lost there. The stories with different settings do not work quite as well but do add to the overall exploration of exile. I am already searching for O’Callaghan’s other collections as I found these stories challenging, intriguing, and very well-written.

Woman In Darkness

Woman in Darkness, Luisgé Martín (Spain): 2012; translated by Michael McDevitt, Hispabooks, 2014.

An intense story which explores the secrets we keep, the wreckage of relationships we create by our jealousy and doubts, and the abyss we enter as we explore the darkest sides of our identities. While a piece of this novel is indeed about a particular woman who remains in darkness to the main character, Eusebio, the largest part concerns the downward, dark spiral Eusebio travels in his pursuit of knowing this woman. There is much disturbing atrociousness in this story (cruelty to other human beings) but also much to like about it in its telling and conclusion.

A General Theory of Oblivion

A General Theory of Oblivion, José Eduardo Agualusa (Angola): 2012; translated by Daniel Hahn, Vintage, 2015.

This novel from Angola is a straightforward narrative which is quite delightful, as well as informative concerning some brief Angolan/Portuguese history. The characters and situations all coalesce and fit together a bit neatly for my tastes but still a worthy read. The novel has also received good critical acclaim and some positive reviews, and as such, is a popular success as far as translations go. 

The Largesse of the Sea Maiden

The Largesse of the Sea Maiden, Denis Johnson (USA): Jonathan Cape, 2018.

This is quite a good short story collection by the author of the fantastic Tree of Smoke. The solitary characters, in spite of often being amongst others, find themselves reaching for the unattainable, the mysterious in their lives. Most stories also deal with the race to death or against death. Johnson sums up his characters in one of the stories as “all on their way from rust to dust” and each story is an enjoyable, yet melancholy, read along that way. 

Latest Six Books

Bricks and Mortar, Clemens Meyer (Germany): 2013; translated by Katy Derbyshire, Fitzcarraldo, 2016.

Wonderful stream of consciousness novel with various characters delivering the narrative about the sex trade in Post-Wall Eastern Germany.

Cardinal, Alex Higley (USA): Tailwinds Press, 2016.

Good, straight-forward stories about life in the suburbs of America. The characters are a danger to themselves!

Professor Andersen's Night, Dag Solstad (Norway): 1996; translated by Agnes Scott Langeland, Vintage Books, 2012.

A well-educated professor of literature witnesses a murder and keeps it a secret. Good minor thriller with a dose of literary discussion.

Sweet Days of Discipline, Fleur Jaeggy (Switzerland): 1989; translated by Tim Parks, And Other Stories, 2018.

My follow-up to Jaeggy's latest short story collection. Not as good as that collection but still a decent exploration of growing up and negotiating life's difficulties.

Till Kingdom Come, Andrej Nikolaidis (Montenegro): 2015; translated by Will Firth, introsbooks, 2015.

Enjoyable story about a 'lazy, nihilistic, alcoholic from a provincial backwater.' Good and dark fun.

The Coming, Andrej Nikolaidis (Montenegro): 2011; translated by Will Firth, istrosbooks, 2012.

Many of the same themes and characters as in Till Kingdom Come but not quite as good.

The Man Who Shot Out My Eye is Dead

The Man Who Shot Out My Eye is Dead Chanelle Benz (USA) ECCO, 2017.

This collection of short stories is very well written, intelligent, and while not my favourite subject matter, simply fun to read. This in spite of the theme of violence and death which run through the stories. Benz sets her stories in varying historical settings and is quite adept at each that she offers. Characters are either the victims of violence or use violence to solve a problem. Overall, a good exploration of how violence tends to invade our lives and guide us in our decision making. I would not mind being able to write stories of this caliber.

Breathing Into Marble

Breathing Into Marble Laura Sintija Černiauskaite (Lithuania): 2006?; translated by Marija Marcinkute, Noir Press, 2016.

This family drama/thriller is published by the fairly new Noir Press out of the UK. Their focus is on Lithuanian fiction in English translation. It is the first of their five highly anticipated published books that I have obtained and read and I was vastly disappointed. First off, there were many typos and other mistakes, seemingly having missed the editing process. This always makes for a more difficult read. Second, the novel is overstuffed with metaphor and simile. Again, it was difficult to get into the story reading all of them, many of them not even very good. The basic premise, the adoption of a boy who wreaks havoc on a family and the subsequent unraveling of that family, is fairly straightforward and a good premise. The prose, however, simply did not live up to this storyline. I have read several reviews which posit that this is an excellent and beautifully told story. I disagree.

The Dispossessed

The Dispossessed Szilárd Borbély (Hungary): 2013; translated by Ottilie Mulzet, Harper Perennial, 2016.

There is plenty of cruelty and loneliness in this Hungarian novel, which reads more like a memoir than a novel. There is the cruelty of the two world wars, the cruelty of men towards women and children, the cruelty of spouses, the cruelty of children, and the cruelty towards animals. Overriding all of this is the geographical and historical cruelty in the village at the centre of this story. All this cruelty unfolds through the narrative of the central child narrator growing up in this Hungarian village on the border of Romania. He is a lonely character and notices the loneliness of everybody around him, which he comes to understand through the loneliness of prime numbers, a wonderful addition to the storytelling.

Central to the story is also the brutal poverty the child's family and the village as a whole lives in. Borbély depicts excruciating scenes of this poverty and the emotional and psychological impact it has on characters throughout the history that unfolds. The Dispossessed is a wonderful, albeit, sad novel which I highly recommend.