In this iridescent gem of a novel, Louis de Bernieres returns to the territory he mapped so well in The War of Don Emmanuel's Nether Parts, a South American country of resplendent eccentricity, gargantuan corruption, and terrifying violence, where the ordinary machinery of government has rusted and the only thing that works is magic.
Louis de Bernières is an English novelist. He is known for his 1994 historical war novel Captain Corelli's Mandolin. In 1993 de Bernières was selected as one of the "20 Best of Young British Novelists", part of a promotion in Granta magazine. Captain Corelli's Mandolin was published in the following year, winning the Commonwealth Writers Prize for Best Book. It was also shortlisted for the 1994 Sunday Express Book of the Year. It has been translated into over 11 languages and is an international best-seller.
On 16 July 2008, he was awarded an Honorary Doctorate in the Arts by the De Montfort University in Leicester, which he had attended when it was Leicester Polytechnic. Politically, he identifies himself as Eurosceptic and has voiced his support for the United Kingdom's exit from the European Union.
This was my second reading of this rambunctious book. I pored over it quite a while back, not realising that it was just one part of a trilogy, duh! (Kinda doesn't matter anyway).
Following in the footsteps of Gabriel García Márquez, de Bernières' delightful brand of magical realism is a joy to behold. Set in a fictional South American country (imagine Colombia), the author introduces us to Señor Vivo, a philosophising intellectual who imagines he can take on murderous drug cartels by writing condemnatory letters to a national newspaper. This, of course, is a farcical endeavour, but such is the timbre of this outlandish story.
Hip, hip hooray, for de Bernières' luxuriant imagination, which he uses to great effect, creating a madcap tale of spellbinding exuberance and artistic lunacy. Hold onto your asientos, for the author has organised a fiesta of assassinations, hallucinations and sweaty assignations. Thrown into the mix is an uproarious whorehouse brawl that Tarantino would dearly wish he had imagined first.
And there is genius in de Bernières' ability to create voluminous environs in our minds, using only a handful of words. He describes a shanty town where 'cats were not philosophical and elegant, but scabby and dishonest.' In my mind, such descriptive imagery is ¡maravilloso!
I once more declare my admiration for Louis de Bernières. The man was born to write.
We're in Cochadebajo de los Gatos, a town nestled in the Andes Mountains where enormous black jaguars, completely tame and regarded by inhabitants with friendly awe, patrol the streets. Magic realism, you say? Of course! However, this town in an unnamed country resembling Colombia is also the place where the tale's main character, Dionisio Vivo, wakes up to find a corpse in his garden - a crumpled young man in a bloodstained shirt with his tongue sticking out from the slit in his throat in what drug lords term a cravate. It's this combination of the fantastic and the brutally realistic that prompts critics and reviewers to liken Louis de Bernières to Gabriel García Márquez.
Señor Vivo and the Coca Lord is the British author's second volume of his Latin American Trilogy; however, this superb work can be read as a standalone novel.
I listened to a provocative interview where Louis de Bernières spoke about his writing of Señor Vivo and the Coca Lord. A few striking statements are noteworthy, including how he sees himself as old-fashioned, an author who values narrative and character above all else. He also emphasized the need to provide the reader with a fully developed location: he envisions the novel's setting, its location, as a character as alive as any person gracing the pages. More specifically, in Señor Vivo, he wanted to drive home the fact that any romantic notions about war are completely misguided – war is cruel, vicious, and barbaric, giving rise to sadism that results in extreme, unspeakable suffering and hardship, especially among women and children.
There’s so much going on in this sumptuous, multilayered tale. It's not for nothing that A. S. Byatt places Louis de Bernières in the direct line of great British novelists, following Charles Dickens and Evelyn Waugh. To give a taste of what the reader is in store for, here’s a highlight reel from Señor Vivo and the Coca Lord:
Dionisio Vivo, One – There's good reason our twenty-eight-year-old main man wakes up to corpses in his garden or a hand nailed to his front door: Dionisio, a philosophy professor at the local college, has taken to writing scathing letters that are published in a newspaper reaching all corners of his country. These letters detail the evils of the coca traders, such as scouring the countryside for very young girls who are abducted and raped continuously over several days by the coca lords and their lackeys, then either killed or dumped, bound and gagged, anywhere in town. Reading these letters myself, I could feel my stomach turn.
Dionisio Vivo, Two – One of the more endearing parts of the novel is Dionisio falling deeply in love with Anica Moreno, a tall, beautiful twenty-year-old with strawberry blonde hair and gray eyes who moves with captivating grace and aspires to be a great painter and photographer. Louis de Bernières writes of their love and lovemaking with sweet tenderness. “Voluptuously he soaped her all over until every bit of her was covered with such froth that she took on the appearance of being feathered with down. He took her breasts reverently, one in each hand, and massaged them upward with conscientious circling motions so that her nipples were teased and began to shrink and harden into buds.” But...but...but, we can ask, does being Dionisio's lover involve an element of danger? You bet it does.
Coca Lord – Meet the local kingpin, Pablo Ecobandodo aka El Jerarca: a self-centered lout, despicable dodo, and disgusting fat pig. Stereotypes can be easy to fall into, but in the case of this swine, all the negative ones are a perfect fit.
Ramón Dario - This gentleman is that rare creature: a police officer who doesn't take bribes. A friend and blood brother to Dionisio, Ramón urges his friend to stop writing those letters that amount to nothing less than a death wish. In Ramón's version of a perfect world, Dionisio would take Anica on the next flight leaving the country.
Dionsio Vivo, Three – Driving his ancient car out of town, Dionisio and Anica look forward to a picnic in the country. Unfortunately, they're headed to where El Jerarca's men have set up a roadblock. The drug lord's plan is to stage an accident that will make it look like Dionisio lost control of his car and plunged into a ravine. Suddenly, along the way, Dionisio turns off and drives his car into a cliff face. Anica screams and hides her face. Moments later, Anica can see they've entered a cave where creepers completely hide the opening. As far as El Jerarca's men are concerned, the pesky philosophy professor has, as if by magic or voodoo, vanished. This incident adds to Dionisio's mythic status, making him seem like a powerful brujo, a sorcerer who can quash or reverse assassination attempts or any other action meant to cause him harm.
Rainforest Devastation – A man by the name Lazaaro passes through a shantytown where destitute migrant workers, greedy opportunists, and romantic optimists are mining for gold. “In the great pits men were working like termites, carrying their pails of mud up the sliding, glistening faces of these arbitrary holes in the earth. They were burrowing amid the heaps of spoil, slaving by the river, poisoning both it and themselves with the mercury of the separation process.” And downstream Indians die from eating fish poisoned with the metal.
Tantalizing Tickler - Gabriel García Márquez has stated repeatedly that the opening sentence in his novels carries enormous weight. Take a gander at the first sentence in this novel where the country's President engages in a bit of reflection. “Ever since his young wife had given birth to a cat as an unexpected consequence of his experiments in sexual alchemy, and ever since his accidental invention of a novel explosive that confounded Newtonian physics by loosing its force at the precise distance of 6.56 feet from the source of its blast, President Veracruz had thought of himself not only as an adept by also as an intellectual.”
What I've highlighted above is just a few slivers of this incredibly rich tale, told by an author with a breathtaking imagination—where magic meets realism, and gut-wrenching tragedy meets idealism and romanticism. How can it all possibly turn out? For Louis de Bernières to tell.
... let me introduce you to Dionisio properly, except that I am going to start calling him Empedocles, who misguidedly threw himself into a volcano in order to prove that he was a god. I find that analogy very apt.
In the eyes of his friend Ramon, an unusual policeman who refuses bribes and reads the classics, the natural philosophy professor Dionisio Vivo is an idealist with a death wish. Vivo puts principles before common sense, and attacks the powerful drug cartels in his city of Ipasueno through brilliantly argued letters to the editors of a national newspaper. While Vivo's arguments gain him a huge following of admirers (including the fluffy brained president of the republic), the local 'capo' Pablo Ecobandodo, also known as El Jerarca, is sending his killers repeatedly first to intimidate, later to assassinate the professor. The novel opens with a gift left by the bandits in Vivo's front yard: a body wearing a "Colombian cravate" (look it up on the net, if you have a strong stomach)
The second book of the 'South American' trilogy by Louis de Bernieres follows a timeline seven years after the events of 'The War of Don Emmanuel's Nether Parts' using the same setting of a fictional Latin American nation that combines elements of all the countries in the region. If the first book's main theme was the political and economical impact of corruption and political adventurism, it is the time now to look at how the cocaine traffic is as much a force of social change as military dictatorships and rebel guerillas. To some people of the region, cocaine is a legitimate culture, a cash crop, a way out of poverty, and the criminals who control the industry are modern Robin Hoods who invest in the local infrastructure, building schools and churches and housing. This argument ignores the long series of murders that put the lords in their top of the anthill position and the terror campaign that maintains them in power, the silencing by force of all dissenting opinions and of all competitors. Through the voice of Dionisio Vivo, the author uses satire, ridicule and magic realism to pull the veil from the atrocities. El Jerarca may come out of the page as a sort of fatty Wile E. Coyote, with his silly assassination plans and the idiot accomplices, but the deaths and the tortures are real, witness the dedication of this second volume:
To the Honoured and Respected memory of Judge Mariela Espinosa Arango Assassinated by Machine-Gun Fire in Medellin, on Wednesday 1 November 1989
The modern fairytale format is not meant to dissimulate the seriosity of the issue but to underline an alternative to the cynical worldview of predators and prey, to go to the roots and draw strength from the cultural heritage of the campesinos - aboriginals, Indios, former slaves, former conquistadors, guerilleros, disillusioned army generals, European expats - all coming together in that wonderful place in the Andes, Cochadebajo de los Gatos, to celebrate life and love and irreverence. The festival is called a 'candomble', a sincretic religious gathering that marries African deities with Christian saints and voodoo possession to cast auguries for the future, to reaffirm the blessings of the otherworld on the pilgrims.
The world is well stocked with legends of the times when deities walked the earth and when saints performed miracles in Jesus' name. For the most part these legends are a quaint echo of nostalgia for times which now seem naive. But for the population of Cochadebajo de los Gatos and for millions of santeros of all races and colours all over the Hispanic Western hemisphere they walk the earth in broad daylight, still performing miracles, still discoursing with ordinary folk, still arguing, fighting, having love affairs, dispensing favours and punishments, still being greeted by cries of 'Ache'.
I kind of hoped to spend more time with my friends from the first volume, now living in Cochadebajo de los Gatos, but, with the exception of this candomble, the novel is focused on the life of Dionisio Vivo, on his friendship with the policeman Ramon and on his passion for a young student named Anica. Dionisio took a long time to gain my appreciation, mostly because I thought he was disingenuous about ignoring the danger his accusatory letters caused for the people around him. His crusade is admirable, but his idealism I found misplaced and dangerous. I only became reconciled with Vivo when I ceased to regard him as a real person and treated him as an avatar, as a catalyst for change. I think the turning point was one of his introductory speeches to his philosophy classes at Ipasueno university:
'I do not want you to believe any of this because it is all crap, but it is the crap in which the piles of our pseudo-European culture are embedded, so you had better understand it because no one who does not understand the history and taxonomy of crap will ever come to know the difference between crap and pseudocrap and non-crap ...'
The discussion about the merits of different philosophical schools brings me back to the earlier reference by Ramon to the ancient Greek thinker Empedocles. The analogy with Vivo is not restricted to the challenge he makes to gods to destroy him by fire. Empedocles also considered that the world / reality is the result of the struggle between good and evil forces:
The four elements, however, are simple, eternal, and unalterable, and as change is the consequence of their mixture and separation, it was also necessary to suppose the existence of moving powers to bring about mixture and separation. The four elements are both eternally brought into union and parted from one another by two divine powers, Love and Strife. Love is responsible for the attraction of different forms of matter, and Strife is the cause for their separation. If these elements make up of the universe, then Love and Strife explain their variation and harmony. Love and Strife are attractive and repulsive forces, respectively, which is plainly observable in human behavior, but also pervade the universe. The two forces wax and wane their dominance but neither force ever wholly disappears from the imposition of the other. (source: wikipedia)
Strife is represented in the present story by El Jerarca and his goons with their 'Colombian cravates', while Love is embraced by Don Emmanuel and his friends who prefer to fornicate and to talk dirty and to laugh at misfortune. In their simple approach may reside the only hope for the future:
Don Emmanuel had said, 'I believe in that proverb that a man cannot make love to every woman in the world, but he ought to try.' Felicidad had laughed her inimitably wanton laugh and replied, 'A woman has more sense; she knows when she has found the best lover in the world, and she stays with him.' 'You have never stayed with anyone.' Felicidad smiled and said, 'But no one can accuse me of not looking very hard.' General Fuerte wrote down, 'I have never really noticed before, while I was in the army, but truly this country is one huge bed of love.'
the more educated philosophy professor Dionisio Vivo says the same thing in his last anti-drug trade letter:
Dear Sirs, Irrespective of the ideology or the social structure under which one lives, it is a fact of common experience that the single force capable of both welding us together and imparting meaning and purpose to our lives, is that bond of natural affection which renders us most truly human, and which forges with its excellently gentle flame the essential conditions of mutual trust.
The ones who go againt the flow, like El Jerarca, belong in the dustbin of history.
Onward, soldiers of love, to the third book of the trilogy ...
Utterly engrossing--this is like if Garcia Marquez got off his high horse and lessened his stern seriousness and had some frickin' fun. Carnavalesque, the central love story is embedded like a beautiful diamond in this multi-chaptered saga of magical realism and extra bittersweet poignancy. I loved this revisit to Louis de Bernieres' vivid terrain--the inclusion of Dionosio (Dios--> God?) Vivo to the cast of characters that includes Remedios the Revolutionary and Don Emmanuel is an assurance that the last episode in the trilogy will be powerful. Can't wait to read it.
I must say that I was taken entirely by surprise by the amount of dead characters... de Bernieres takes you there, and then he makes you grieve. He's an extraordinary artist that balances comedy and tragedy so SOOO well that you're given small time to take it all in. This is a brisk walk through the jungle, then a run. Also, one of the best romances ever committed to the page!
Also, I must add that the last chapter, written in the POV of a fellow reporter is truly ironic, beautiful, a brushstroke of storytelling genius! How can an artist decide to leave his own conventions for the most important part-- for the most jarring impact to the gut? Not only is the author creative and intelligent, this guy has intuition and, yes, (perhaps most important of all:) a sense of humor.
This one is the best in the Latin American trilogy. His "Empire Strikes Back."
This book is hard to explain. On one hand, it's a genuinely passionate statement about how the cocaine trade has crippled South America and everyone is too afraid to go against the cartels; on the other hand, it's a magical realism story where human women can give birth to cats, gods posses people, and panthers can be domesticated.
Amazingly, these two very different elements combine to make a fantastic story. It doesn't seem like it would work - how can an author make a statement about the realistically awful cocaine trade and its effects, while also incorporating magical elements that distract from the reality of the situation? Because, lest you be fooled, this is not a light and happy story. People are murdered, raped, and tortured in excruciating detail, and for the majority of the book we're sure that the actions of one man Senor Vivo, cannot possibly overcome the cocaine industry in South America.
It wouldn't seem like magic belongs in that story, but it does. The cocaine trade ruins lives, and the people behind it are ruthless, stupid, horrible thugs who nonetheless can control entire countries. The situation is depressing, to say the least, and that's why the magical realism aspect is so important to this novel. When we read about Senor Vivo, who writes passionate letters to the newspapers condemning the cocaine dealers, who respond by leaving raped and mutilated children in his backyard, we need to know that nearby, in a small village on the Amazon, witches are working to bring down the cocaine dealers. We need to know that one man can have enough luck to escape multiple assassination attempts. We need to believe that in this world of violence and destruction and inhumanity, miracles are possible and that the good guys will win in the end. Here, reality is not enough, so the author gives us something better. He gives us a world where good can triumph over evil, and even though the journey is horrible and painful and people die and no one will ever be the same afterwards, the good people can still win.
Also the protagonist has two pet panthers, which is just plain awesome.
First let me say that I was ever so glad to have read the first in the trilogy before this one. I truly don't know what the 1001 books people were thinking putting this on the list without the other. I cannot imagine getting much out of this without The War of Don Emmanuel's Nether Parts. To add to that, Don Emmanuel was a better read for me. There are many references to Cochadebaja de los Gatos and, in fact, some of the action takes place there. How would anyone know the significance of that without reading the first in the series? This does provide minimal back story, but it is simply not enough.
The reason I didn't like this as much is the story itself. The title would lead one to believe it is the same sort of frivolous absurdity as in Don Emmanuel. At least I was so fooled. This is much darker. So dark, in fact, that 50+ pages from the end are several paragraphs of graphic and sadistic violence. The book opens with a body in Dionisius Vivo's front yard, so perhaps one could have expected the later depiction. After all, the other person in the title is a drug lord. This later incident is horrific. There is also a lot more explicit sex. Or at least I think there was a lot more - could I have simply not noticed in a book whose title includes the words "nether parts"?
Despite that, I do hope to get to the third in the series, The Troublesome Offspring of Cardinal Guzman. I like the setting of the fictitious South American country. With exceptions noted above, I like the characters so far. I like that, for the most part, the stories range between quirky and absurd. The prose continues to be varied and interesting. All in all, what I like in a book, and I'm sorry that this one, due to the violence, barely rises to the 3-star mark.
I could say that this book is on the very edge of my comfort zone, but the truth is that it is far away from my comfort zone and everything I usually read.
I rarely read typical modern literature and usually avoid magical realism and books with plenty of symbolism. I also avoid humorous books, because usually they do not make me laugh instead irritate me. Though, this is not a big problem since this is more of a tragicomic story rather than a comedy.
Under the guise of a trivial, cheerful and funny story about the love adventures of Dionisio and his epistolary war with drug cartels, there is a much more serious sense. Especially that the situation can easily be related to the one in countries plagued by organized crime and wars of drug gangs, such as Colombia or Mexico. Despite the playful language, the plot of the book abounds in brutal deaths and images of the difficult life of ordinary people in areas under the control of drug cartels.
As a political scientist, I am also observing the country governance aspects of the plot. Here we have a caricature of a poorly administrated country struggling with corruption, nepotism and incompetence. Again, although the picture is clearly exaggerated, it is easy to refer it to the situation in many real countries. I consider these caricatures extremely successful.
I’m really glad this book unlike any other that I read before.
If they made a Hieronymous Bosch painting into a novel, and set it in South America, this might be the result. (Could be the polar opposite of Downton Abbey or Pride and Prejudice.)
De Bernieres' signature 'combinatorial creativity' in his prose is present throughout this novel-- as is his reality-based satire.
The characters are magical: Dionisio as the tragic hero figure who also happens to be a professor of 'secular philosophy'; Aurelio the indian, a master brujo who knows santeria and communicates with his deceased daughter's ghost; and the country's President, a completely ineffectual imbecile who slowly becomes captivated by his own weird sexual alchemy experiments while his country spirals into further economic troubles.
De Bernieres uses words in such interesting combinations, with cultural and philosophical references thrown in, so that when you 'get it' -- you manage to figure it out -- it's like you are sharing an inside joke with the author. (You're never precisely sure if the meaning you took is the same one the author intended, but that's OK. That is sort of the point.)
Beware: In this novel, the coca-killing violence was at times difficult to read. Perhaps that has more to do with our current exposure to news about horrible drug violence in Mexico/Central/South America, and our apparent inability to do anything about it. Or perhaps I just reached the reality'-saturation point.
But that should not deter you from reading this novel. There is so much fullness here, so much life - the violence, the joy, the passion and the craziness are enriching by his descriptions.
At one point, Dionisio asks his love Anica to marry him (not knowing that the coca lords have already threatened her and her family with certain death should she stay with Dionisio):
"Anica was thrown into a maze from which there seemed to be no exit. She turned pale, and her lips trembled; she averted her eyes. . . With her eyes brimming she turned to him and said the only thing that seemed to her that it was possible to say: 'I want you to know that I could never marry anyone that I did not love.'
But Anica had left out the premise antecedent to this declaration, a premise that she took to be implicit, which was that she would never love anyone but him, and would therefore marry no one else.
But Dionisio's mind, with its chronic literality of a linguistic philosopher and its masculine deafness to the unsaid, simply went numb and then computed the obvious implication that she was refusing him because she did not love him."
Dionisio Vivo is a philosophy teacher in Ipasueño, who begins writing letters to the national newspaper about the effects of the coca trade on the people of this unnamed South American country (though, presumably Columbia). He’s a young man, given to idealism, and his letters are full of outrage and obvious concern for the poor of his country. And then corpses begin turning up on his front lawn. His friend, Ramon, an honest (!) policeman finds the message all too clear: the drug lords want Dionisio to stop his tirades against them in the press. A series of assassination attempts fail, leading to speculation that Dionisio is a powerful brujo (witch or wizard). But if his life is somehow charmed, that protection doesn’t necessarily extend to those he loves.
What a fun romp of a satire, full of magical realism and totally outrageous scenarios, one more fantastical than the next. I laughed aloud in many places, and cried out in dismay in others.
This is the second in de Bernières “Latin American Trilogy,” after The War of Don Emmanuel's Nether Parts. While it can be read as a stand-alone novel, the reader who has read the first book will have the background story that explains – if such supernatural elements can be explained – some of the more fantastical plot points and characters.
The language de Bernières employs is nothing short of delightful. Colorful phrases abound, and lend an air of fantasy and mysticism that just tickles my fancy. The story shifts perspective from chapter to chapter, sometimes leaving the reader feeling dizzy and disoriented. But as is true of many novels of this genre, the reader who can suspend disbelief and just go along for the ride will find much to enjoy.
- That’s great, man. I’m good too. You know me: working hard, playing hard. Listen, we received your latest opus and we have to say, we are impressed!
- No problem at all, you really do know how to dig and strike gold, or oil. Or whatever it is they dig and discover down South America way. Opium? Is it opium? Do you dig for opium? Hey! It don’t matter, just rest assured that you have a good story here.
- Please, Louis, I’m always happy to give a guy like you compliments. There’s just one thing though, Louis, baby.
- Honestly, now don’t look so worried. It ain’t that much of a biggie. It’s just as good as ‘Senor Vivo and the Cocoa Lord’ is, we ain’t in the business of publishing short stories. That’s just the way it is. Nada on the short stories! Sorry we didn’t mention it. Actually we did mention it, you crazy bastard. Why didn’t you pay attention, you dumbass?
- No, don’t be melodramatic. Honestly, Louis, nobody wants you to throw it in the bin. What you have here is gold, or oil or opium, or whatever it is they dig for in South America. I loved this Dionisio guy, your philosophy lecturer who takes on the local drug lord through impassioned letters to the newspapers. It’s drama when he earns the ire and wrath of organised crime, funny when they try and fail to assassinate him. There’s a Latin American sexiness to it, a lust that that’s just so exotic to us in rainy old London. I laughed, I chuckled, and if I still had a heart I probably would have cried at his doomed love affair with the gorgeous Anica.
- What’s that? Do I think some of the violence is too graphic and mysoginistic? Well, maybe a little, but it’s South American so I guess that makes it okay. Certainly if it was set in Darlington, we’d have more of a problem with it in what’s really a comic romp.
- So, yes, rest assured you have a good short story there, Louis. But as I said before, we ain’t in the short story business, so what we want you to do is pad it out.
- Yeah, you know what I mean, baby – pad it out. Just drop in a few vignettes and comic sketches that are clearly set in the same world as the rest of the action, but really have nothing to do with it. You know, the kind of thing.
- Hey! What are you looking at me for ideas for? You’re the author right? Just flick through your Marquez again, that’ll give you some notion. Or maybe just revisit your characters from the last novel – ‘Don Emanuel’s Groin’, or whatever the hell it was called. You don’t have to go back to them in a meaningful way, or even really make it that entertaining, but it’ll be good to see some familiar faces – even if them being there is a little pointless. That’s what padding is about, right?
- No problem at all, Louis. You do that we’ll have it into W.H. Smiths by Christmas and who knows maybe it’ll still be in print nearly twenty five years later.
- Really, Louis, baby, no problem at all.
- What’s that? What’s that old picture on the wall?
- That’s just a photo of my old Italian uncle and his mandolin, but don’t worry about that for now.
Beautifully written and amazingly vivid, this is a book that covers a great swathe of narrative, and human experience. Sometimes it made me laugh out loud. One chapter prevented me from sleeping, and still haunts me. When de Berniers is playful, he is charming. When he plunges into the darkest aspects of human nature and behaviour, he is shocking. Through the contrasts, the dramatic shifts betwen light and dark, compassion and horror, he weaves a complex story. There is romance, tragedy, magical realism, comedy, and a fine story threading it all together.
I've considered trying to write a plot summary, but I don't like doing spoilers. So, let's limit it to 20th Century, South American, and about the consequences for a man who is brave enough to try and fight injustice and barbarity. Good people die, but ultimately this is a hopeful sort of tale.
I had no idea that the thrift store close to home had also second-hand books on sale. I went there a lot of times searching for nice clothes, but never, ever noticed the English books sitting on the shelf. Today I went in this store with a friend and wasn't intending to buy anything when, suddenly, I had a vision: I finally saw the books. And they were soo cheap, like 0.30 cents. Mostly romance, but there was also this book, that I proudly took home. :)
Chutovka. Krutost nejde pod kozu (nastastie), pretoze je popisana akoby len nahodou. Magicky realizmus je tiez akoby len nahodnou sucastou knihy. Uplna parada je cesky preklad, v ktorom je ponechanych mnozstvo spanielskych vyrazov (kto nevie po spanielsky, musi asi viacej listovat do slovnika vzadu v knihe) a aj samotne ceske slovicka dodali knihe skvelu atmosferu. A stale som mala pocit, ze sa dej odohrava v 19. storoci, taku to malo atmosferu, hoc to bol dej z 90. rokov 20. storocia.
I am definately in the minority in giving this a 2-star rating but I will stick to my guns. This book is mainly an exercise in intellectual mast**bation. I like to learn new words so I didn't mind having to reach for the dictionary every second page and even used online translation for some of the Spanish words.
de Bernier's style is florid and overly self-indulgent, perhaps in an effort to mimic the storytelling style of overexcited Mexican housewives or boastful gauchos. I liked the way the story blends the supernatural with the mundane and some of thee turns of phrase are wonderful and made me laugh out loud.
Sadly though, the elborate descriptions began to grate. Chapter 23 very nearly made me throw down the book in frustration because of it's utter incomprehensibility and irrelevance. The author plays loose with the timelines mixing past history with a recap on events that occur to individuals after the period that the book is set in. A number of characters appear to be included for frivolous amusement rather than because they contribute to the plot. There's a really lazy plot fixup that I can't reveal that allows the author to keep his hero and heroine together for a month after they should have been separated. All of this leading up to a final showdown between the main protagonists that is a real damp squib. I can't recall reading a book that caused me such a mixute of delight, rage and frustration and disappointment all in one.
I can't praise de Bernières enough. Ever. Intelligent and brilliant writing as always. I should be used to laughing out loud one minute and feeling nauseated and shocked the next with his books but it still hits me hard when it happens. His writing is brilliant and hilarious, yet at times outrageous and shocking. The shocking part in this novel was rather graphic...I had to force myself through it and hope that I'd be laughing again in the next chapter. I was.
I LOVE the magic realism in this trilogy. He does it so brilliantly.
Second book in the trilogy though not very clearly stated - Read "The War on Don Emmanuel's Nether Parts" first to appreciate this novel.
"A sequel to "The War of Don Emmanuel's Nether Parts". Dionisio Vivo, a young South American lecturer in philosophy, leads a charmed life in a world where the supernatural is routine. He is insulated from attacks by the local coca lord's hit-men, by a sense of justice and pig-headed integrity." (From Amazon)
I like de Bernieres writting but I'm not into this series but will finish it.
I would have given this book four stars had it not been for a couple of horrific chapters which made me so sick I scanned the rest. Otherwise, an enjoyable read. Given this is set in an imaginary South American country it really brought home the struggle against the coca cartels with an interesting story and prose.
The had his usual wonderfully lyrical prose that somehow makes it easier to comprehend or accept the horrific violence that takes place throughout, although I didn't love this one as much as the first and last books in the trilogy. I think that had more to do with the fact that I read the final one before this, being to anxious to keep reading as I waited for my copy of this to arrive in the mail, so much of the tragedy here seemed almost anti-climactic, and the ending seemed strangely rushed or detached. I'd anticipated so much of Dionisio's amazing act of revenge but instead, it was presented as almost an afterthought, yet many other events (which I won't detail to avoid spoilers) go on in explicit detail to the point where I was skipping pages to get on with it. Again, that may be because of my already knowing largely what happens, so I'm giving this 4 stars for the beautiful writing and amazing characters. And one day, I will reread this trilogy in proper sequel and relive this magical world all over again.
Senor Vivo and the Coca Lord began as an enthralling, funny, well-written book. Then it took a tragic turn, and became deep, philosophic, and thought-provoking. It's characteristic Louis de Bernières, a sequel to The War of Don Emmanuel's Nether Parts (but don't worry if you don't remember most of it; I didn't and still very much enjoyed this one).
The best way to describe this, I think, is to say it's a lot like life: Funny, unpredictable, rich, harrowing, sweet, and sad. But not depressing. It's everything a book should be.
Tak především jsem si obohatil slovník o termín "kolumbijský kravaťák" a věřte, že toho byste na předzahrádce potkat nechtěli. A ani jinak jsem nepřišel zkrátka, i tahle knížka je výborná, byť Válka o zadnici Dona Emmanuela byla přece jen o kousek lepší. Dvojka není tak rozprostřená do široka, je tu míň postav i dějových linek, o to víc se toho ale dozvíte o hlavním hrdinovi a jeho nejbližším okolí. Nechybí tu ani humor, absurdita ani šokující momenty, kterými nás zahrnul už první díl. A jelikož už mám dočtenou i trojku, můžu s klidem prohlásit že celá tahle série je bomba jakých je málo.
after believing that The War of Don Emanuel's Nether Parts was (is) a perfect novel - well balanced (joy, pain, personal development...) i was really looking forward to the next book in the trilogy - however this was NOT balanced - too long developing the romance (lovely touching, fresh, wonderful) --too long because early on you know it is doomed. brief revenge for the violence does NOT balance the novel's sadness. well one of his books finally got less than 5 stars (from me).
Philosophy, distilled: "I do not want you to believe any of this because it is all crap, but it is crap in which the piles of our pseudo-European culture are embedded, so you had better understand it because no one who does not understand the history and taxonomy of crap will ever come to know the difference between crap and pseudo-crap and non-crap..." (233).
Често се налага да се плъзнеш встрани от действителността, за да я предадеш в цялата й абсурдна реалност. “Сеньор Виво и Наркобарона” е едновременно слънчева и сенчеста приказка за борбата на обикновения човек с многоликото и несъкрушимо зло, в което оръжия като прямотата и истината се сблъскват с коварството и безскрупулността – но книгата на Луи де Берниер отива отвъд баналната измамна победа на доброто и навлиза в джунглата на магическия реализъм ала Маркес. Тук може да се случви всичко, дори да се преживее нереално щастлива любов, но тук може и ще откриваш трупове в градината си, а близките ти ще са под непрестанна угроза от жестока, мъчителна смърт. И ще умират за теб, за твоята борба – тая цена трябва да бъде заплатена безусловно.
I'll tell you what another Good Reads reviewer said concisely and with insight, which allows me to take a pass, have a cup of tea, and get on to my next book. I hope I'm not breaking some rule by quoting them. I will say that I didn't like it as much as the first and last book in the trilogy, and contemplated 3 stars. But its wonderful language won me over.
"Beautifully written and amazingly vivid, this is a book that covers a great swathe of narrative, and human experience. Sometimes it made me laugh out loud. One chapter prevented me from sleeping, and still haunts me. When de Berniers is playful, he is charming. When he plunges into the darkest aspects of human nature and behaviour, he is shocking. Through the contrasts, the dramatic shifts betwen light and dark, compassion and horror, he weaves a complex story. There is romance, tragedy, magical realism, comedy, and a fine story threading it all together." (Nimue Brown)
I really enjoyed this quite bizarre story. It reminded me somewhat of the style of Ernest Hemingway's "For Whom the Bell Tolls" in that the author captured the essence of the landscape and the people with vivid flavour and texture, and gave us a wonderful hero in Senor Vivo. The slightly paranormal experiences of the jungle cats and the ability of the natives in the mountains to astral travel and assume the identities of various deities is partly I suspect due to some hallucinogenic experiences with local herbal consumption, and partly paranormal/spiritual divination. Either way, it all goes hand - in -hand anyway doesn't it?
If you liked "The Teachings of Don Juan" by Carlos Castenada, anything by Ernest Hemingway, and "The Motorcycle Diaries" then you will like this, as I see this story as a blending of those three treats.