Esperando a Robert Capa by Susana Fortes

Took me over a month to finish this book – I looked for whatever pretext to read something else (poetry, theater, short stories, zombie books, anything) ’cause by reading this at times I wanted to vomit. Fictionalized biography, huh? How the F can you put in a frigging book thoughts that Robert Capa was thinking the moment he stepped on an anti-infantry land mine, that David Seymour thought while he awaited execution by the Egyptian death squad etc? And how the F did she know the way Capa usually screamed while he was having an orgasm? He died before she was born!

Actually, despite the name, it’s not a book about Robert Capa – it is about Gerda Taro, his girlfriend in the times of Spanish civil war, who died in the battlefield – and not in an easy way. A big funeral in Paris, and all the world press wrote about it – good summary below. Oh, not in an easy way. But I guess I could’ve learnt all that just in wiki.

The first two thirds of his book are as follows: c-r-a-p, worst book ever. Cheap sensationalism and bad (imho) writing. The last third got better, mostly due to less romance (brrrr) and more civil war stuff.

Overall – don’t read the Spanish original, don’t read the newly issued English translation. When a writer permits herself cheap sensationalism like this, I want to scream.

“Capa no lo sabía, pero allí le esperaba la foto de su vida. Una imagen que lo haría famoso, que daría la vuelta al mundo en las portadas de las principales revistas, que se convertiría en un auténtico icono del siglo XX.”

“Fue entonces cuando Capa supo, con la certidumbre seca de una revelación, que no sería capaz de soportar la vida sin ella.”

PS: too bad I have a habit of trying to read novels till the end, it’s a truly gruesome task sometimes.


The death of Bunny Munro by Nick Cave (finale)

Part 3: Deadman

Strangely enough, Cave turned out to be quite a thrilling read. I know it resembles Welsh a lot, by both content and to certain extent style, but still, quite gripping. Part 3 is madness and rage, death and repent. Oh well.


The death of Bunny Munro by Nick Cave (continued)

Part 2: Salesman

I keep on slowly turning the pages – while part 1 was all Irvine Welsh and stuff, now, part 2 is all Glengarry Glen Ross, which I like like like like like like like. Basic rules of the trade, sonny. Ain’t no John Galt – simply put – I want your dollar, I want your dime. Goes on like this:

‘It’s like this, Bunny Boy: if you walk up to an oak tree or a bloody elm or something – you know, one of those big bastards – one with a thick, heavy trunk with giant roots that grow deep in the soil and great branches that are covered in leaves, right, and you walk up to it and give the tree a shake, well, what happens?’ […]

‘I really don’t know, Dad,’ says Bunny Junior, listening intently, retaining the information and knowing, in time, he will probably understand.

‘Well, nothing bloody happens, of course!’ says Bunny, and he slows the Punto to a halt. ‘You can stand there shaking it till the cows come home and all that will happen is your arms will get tired. Right?’ […]

‘But if you go up to a skinny, dry, fucked-up little tree, with a withered trunk and a few leaves clinging on for dear life, and you put your hands around it and shake the shit out of it – as we say in the trade – those bloody leaves will come flying off! Yeah?’

‘OK, Dad,’ says the boy, and he watches as one of the youths pulls back the edge of his hood and reveals a white hockey mask with a human skull printed on it.

‘Now, the big oak tree is the rich bastard, right, and the skinny tree is the poor cunt who hasn’t got any money. Are you with me?’

PS:

For those who want to steal the book (in Russian) – here’s flibusta link.

For those who want to buy – awesome iPad App on iTunes.

I did both )))


The death of Bunny Munro by Nick Cave

Nick Cave – definitely a better singer than novelist. Still…

Part 1: Cocksman
Funny how Cave tackles Kylie in the book

“Bunny turns on the radio and Kylie Minogue’s hit ‘Spinning Around’ comes on, and he can’t believe his luck and feels a surge of almost limitless joy as the squelching, teasing synth starts and Kylie belts out her orgiastic paean to buggery and he thinks of Kylie’s gold hot pants, those magnificent gilded orbs, which makes him think of riding River the waitress’s large, blanched backside, his belly full of sausages and eggs, back up in the hotel room, and he begins singing along, ‘I’m spinning around, move out of my way, I know you’re feeling me ’cause you like it like this’, and the song seems to be coming out of all the windows of all the cars in all the world, and the beat is pounding like a motherfucker”

A bit on this in his interview

PS: official site


No mires debajo de la cama de Juan José Millás

Now, what a strange book. A first I thought I’m gonna give it up entirely – but after long and boring part 2, I guess I got an acquired taste.

Just to explain – part 2 is about living shoes. Thoughts and pains and ramblings of shoes and subsequently legs separated from the bodies – and later, people dying of fear by just looking under the bed, hints that thoughts may kill (or not?) and that certain things repeat themselves.

Part 3 I loved – dynamic enough for me – and part 4 I suffered through, just to see where it ends. Page 207.

Strange book, by all accounts – however, it gave a name to this blog, huh – people steal, well, I stole


Riña de gatos. Madrid 1936 de Eduardo Mendoza


Mendoza’s last book is quite amusing – though I wiki’ed Antonio Primo de Rivera et al – no Duque de Igualada alongside him, as I could’ve predicted

As usual for his works, Mendoza adds a spy novel angle to its tale – it’s full of action and mystery – but don’t be fooled – it’s a not a story of fake Velazquez and spies from Lubyanka – it is one about popular revolt hanging in the air, both communist and fascist – coupled with Mendoza’s love for Spain and Madrid in particular. Quite amusing indeed – te pegas al libro y ya…

Reminded me of La Comedia Ligera – rather than Mauricio – though, I have to say, I poorly remember both

eminde