What do you think?
Grey Tropic
This burlesque of the Parisian novel rolls eyes at an unreal world of pointless tides and sour coffee, where ‘everyone’s got a novel inside them’ is a content provider’s slogan printed on an umbrella you’re about to steal from a party in the 20th Arrondissement. Sdrigotti and Dean shake a tired head at modern life and writing, leaving you with split sides and a terrible thirst. The wine is gone. The taps are dry. And Grey Tropic will have you walking out, out, out into the rain.
— Harry Gallon, Every Fox Is a Rabid Fox
— Harry Gallon, Every Fox Is a Rabid Fox
167 pages, Paperback
First published February 1, 2019
About the author
Fernando Sdrigotti
16 books18 followersFernando Sdrigotti was born in Rosario, Argentina, in 1977.
His fiction and critical writing has appeared widely online and in print, and has been translated into French, Italian, Turkish, Norwegian and Spanish.
He is the author of Dysfunctional Males, Shitstorm, and Grey Tropic among other titles.
He lives in London.
His fiction and critical writing has appeared widely online and in print, and has been translated into French, Italian, Turkish, Norwegian and Spanish.
He is the author of Dysfunctional Males, Shitstorm, and Grey Tropic among other titles.
He lives in London.
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Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews
July 17, 2019
I loved the freshness of reading this book. The frame of it charmed me, and the vulgarity didn’t turn me away as it often does, just because of the main character’s extraordinary agency. I enjoyed the satire of a ‘Paris book’ even without having read any sincerely—and not having read them because that meandering and ultimately navel-gazing type of story doesn’t appeal at all to me. So I have no dry ground to stand on to claim that this turns those upside down, or that this completely subverts them. It was just more interesting from the premise on.
A significant part of that interest was held by the jokes about writing itself. Having read Sdrigotti’s Shitstorm I’m inclined to believe those might be him but I’d better read more Dean and more Sdrigotti just to make sure. But maybe they’re just the beautiful fruits of friendship rained down upon humanity like manna from a conversation that took place in some writer’s haunt in Paris.
“‘How could you escape? How could you? HOW?’
‘TELL ME!’
‘SELF-PUBLISHING!’
‘OH NO!’” (120)
The more of these formally experimental things I read, the more I seem to see a binary in innovation in writing. There can be innovation within the form of story, or innovation of the form itself. And neither of these alone are a virtue for their own sake, simply another axis upon which an author builds the piece, more or less important depending on how strong the other attributes of the story are. I am beginning to hate the term ‘voice’ because I am a human with a capacity for getting tired and I have listened to people academically or literarily talk about writing for more than five years, and between it and ‘tone’ I usually consider it the more useless and trite of the two. But in this piece, the ‘voice’ blends with the strength of the character because of the particular first person narration. So regrettably I must say the voice is strong here. What the authors do with agency, exactly, is to make the narrator relatively clear-eyed and quite critical of his place in the story, without making him overbearing or controlling. The resulting bit of distance combined with experience and sensory detail make the book.
As the second Dostoyevsky Wannabe I’ve read, after A Hypocritical Reader, this form of innovation felt more readable, which is not to say universally better, but certainly better to me. The prose here gave plot and character even without providing scenes a typical assigned meaning or much narrative structure, which helped me to place the innovations rather than making the whole text an opportunity for interpretation, as Snadjr does in many of her pieces. The binary comparison now seems unfair, the only connection between them being the publisher, even if that group is somewhat defined by its position relative to conventional literature. I can recognize that they were distinct projects with different aims, and the weight of a comparison of reading experience is not quite so valuable with that knowledge. So I guess I’d better read more Dostoyevsky Wannabe books, as well, before I pass judgement, I can say confidently now at the end of this paragraph where I’ve passed judgment.
My final sentiment about this book is that there are certain lines I’d like to memorize just to carry around and keep as my opinions on new media I see. Particularly:
“I have no fucking idea of what I have just seen apart from the fact that it can only have been imagined by someone incredibly stupid.” (97)
In conclusion, four stars, but only not five because I can’t remember what it feels like to be the kind of person who gives things five stars.
A significant part of that interest was held by the jokes about writing itself. Having read Sdrigotti’s Shitstorm I’m inclined to believe those might be him but I’d better read more Dean and more Sdrigotti just to make sure. But maybe they’re just the beautiful fruits of friendship rained down upon humanity like manna from a conversation that took place in some writer’s haunt in Paris.
“‘How could you escape? How could you? HOW?’
‘TELL ME!’
‘SELF-PUBLISHING!’
‘OH NO!’” (120)
The more of these formally experimental things I read, the more I seem to see a binary in innovation in writing. There can be innovation within the form of story, or innovation of the form itself. And neither of these alone are a virtue for their own sake, simply another axis upon which an author builds the piece, more or less important depending on how strong the other attributes of the story are. I am beginning to hate the term ‘voice’ because I am a human with a capacity for getting tired and I have listened to people academically or literarily talk about writing for more than five years, and between it and ‘tone’ I usually consider it the more useless and trite of the two. But in this piece, the ‘voice’ blends with the strength of the character because of the particular first person narration. So regrettably I must say the voice is strong here. What the authors do with agency, exactly, is to make the narrator relatively clear-eyed and quite critical of his place in the story, without making him overbearing or controlling. The resulting bit of distance combined with experience and sensory detail make the book.
As the second Dostoyevsky Wannabe I’ve read, after A Hypocritical Reader, this form of innovation felt more readable, which is not to say universally better, but certainly better to me. The prose here gave plot and character even without providing scenes a typical assigned meaning or much narrative structure, which helped me to place the innovations rather than making the whole text an opportunity for interpretation, as Snadjr does in many of her pieces. The binary comparison now seems unfair, the only connection between them being the publisher, even if that group is somewhat defined by its position relative to conventional literature. I can recognize that they were distinct projects with different aims, and the weight of a comparison of reading experience is not quite so valuable with that knowledge. So I guess I’d better read more Dostoyevsky Wannabe books, as well, before I pass judgement, I can say confidently now at the end of this paragraph where I’ve passed judgment.
My final sentiment about this book is that there are certain lines I’d like to memorize just to carry around and keep as my opinions on new media I see. Particularly:
“I have no fucking idea of what I have just seen apart from the fact that it can only have been imagined by someone incredibly stupid.” (97)
In conclusion, four stars, but only not five because I can’t remember what it feels like to be the kind of person who gives things five stars.
February 15, 2025
The character and potentially the writer (if it is based on him) are very dislikable characters from the start, which made me want to dislike the book
But
I couldn't help myself enjoying it immensely
I loved the feeling of being at someone's side through the joys and pains of the writing process. The chaos and stupidity of word creating and narrative picking. The feeling of it being fun but unnecessary but with endless possibilities but also somehow still pigeon holed and falling into the same clichés.
It's ridiculous and self-deprecating.
It reminds me of the books you write in your head, in which the non-linear form of thought allows you to explore 5 trajectories at once and rewrite past sections to make sense with new directions.
I enjoy that I could read it again, missing certain bits and creating the semblance of a sensible short story out of it.
"Victims of oneiric recourse, the number one killer of literature"
This line made me laugh so much, when I was 7 I wrote stories and gave them to my teacher and I remember being gutted when she told me it was a tired trope to say "and it was all a dream" (maybe in more simple words)
But remembering this made me laugh so much. Just the ridiculousness of the book and the ridiculousness of a teacher giving a small child feedback like an editor rather than the usual "o that's a lovely story"
I would highly recommend this book. If you enjoy writing I think it would be hard not to enjoy this book.
But
I couldn't help myself enjoying it immensely
I loved the feeling of being at someone's side through the joys and pains of the writing process. The chaos and stupidity of word creating and narrative picking. The feeling of it being fun but unnecessary but with endless possibilities but also somehow still pigeon holed and falling into the same clichés.
It's ridiculous and self-deprecating.
It reminds me of the books you write in your head, in which the non-linear form of thought allows you to explore 5 trajectories at once and rewrite past sections to make sense with new directions.
I enjoy that I could read it again, missing certain bits and creating the semblance of a sensible short story out of it.
"Victims of oneiric recourse, the number one killer of literature"
This line made me laugh so much, when I was 7 I wrote stories and gave them to my teacher and I remember being gutted when she told me it was a tired trope to say "and it was all a dream" (maybe in more simple words)
But remembering this made me laugh so much. Just the ridiculousness of the book and the ridiculousness of a teacher giving a small child feedback like an editor rather than the usual "o that's a lovely story"
I would highly recommend this book. If you enjoy writing I think it would be hard not to enjoy this book.
Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews