Gregor Gradnik, a Slovenian writer, enters the sensual and seething life of New Orleans to teach a creative writing class at a university. In a style both serious and ironic, Jancar observes and comments on the two cultures, illuminating both American and Central European forms of self-obsession. Gregor at first identifies himself as only an observer, yet seductive New Orleans soon draws him into a series of increasingly bizarre erotic, professional, and social relationships. Fracturing and realigning the cultural, psychological, and perceptual boundaries by which Gregor believes he knows the world and his place in it, Jancar reveals a deepening loss of control over our collective knowledge of the divisions between life and art, reality and dream, East and West, man and woman, naivete and cynicism, transcendence and perdition.
Drago Jančar je končal Višjo pravno šolo v Mariboru. Med študijem je bil kulturni, glavni in odgovorni urednik študentskega lista Katedra. Po študiju je bil najprej zaposlen kot novinar pri dnevniku Večer, nato je bil svobodni pisatelj, za tem dramaturg pri Viba filmu in nazadnje tajnik in urednik pri založbi Slovenska matica v Ljubljani. Študijsko je večkrat bival v tujini, v ZDA, Veliki Britaniji, Nemčiji. Od leta 2001 je redni član SAZU. Je največkrat prevajani sodobni slovenski pisatelj. Jančar je najprej začel s pisanjem pripovednih del v modernistični pripovedni tehniki in pod vplivom francoskega novega romana. V pripovednih delih obravnava spore posameznika z aktualnim družbenim okoljem (roman Petintrideset stopinj, novele O bledem hudodelcu) in pripoveduje o tragičnem spopadu med individualno človeško eksistenco in kaosom objektivnega sveta (romana Galjot, Severni sij, novele Smrt pri Mariji Snežni). V Jančarjevih pripovednih delih v osemdesetih letih dvajsetega stoletja so opazne postmodernistične prvine, pozneje pa se tem pridruži še tematski premik k intimnim eksistencialno odločilnim problemom (novele Pogled angela, roman Posmehljivo poželenje). Pisatelj je v svojih delih uporabil tudi zgodovinsko tematiko (romana Galjot, Katarina, pav in jezuit). Jančar v svojem dramskem opusu upodablja posameznika, ki v sporu s posplošujočim in neobčutljivim sistemom praviloma propade. Pri tem izbira predvsem zgodovinsko snov in jo alegorično povzdigne (Disident Arnož in njegovi, Veliki briljantni valček, Dedalus, Klementov padec, Halštat). Groteska Zalezujoč Godota je variacija besedila S. Becketta. Pomembna je tudi Jančarjeva esejistika, ki se ukvarja z eksistencialnimi in političnimi vprašanji intelektualcev v sodobnem, posebej socialističnem svetu. Drago Jančar je za svoj književni opus prejel številne nagrade: leta 1982, 1985, 1989, 1995 Grumovo narado, leta 1979 nagrado Prešernovega sklada, leta 1993, 1995 Rožančevo nagrado, leta 1993 Prešernovo nagrado, leta 1999, 2001 nagrado kresnik, leta 1994 evropsko nagrado za kratko prozo in leta 2003 Herderjevo nagrado.
Había leído algo del autor, y si bien no me pareció súper bueno, por lo menos lo puse bien, Zumbidos en la cabeza, quise leer otro porque me quedo un poco una espina. Tomé este libro y no se, pienso que no es para mí, el libro va sobre un escritor esloveno que es invitado a un taller de creación literaria en Nueva Orleans, allí se rodea de artistas locales, los típicos personajes de círculos intelectuales, como va involucrándose con ellos, se envuelve y bueno, de eso va.
Particularmente la atmósfera de Mardi Gras, el lento Mississippi fluyendo y dejando un ambiente a pantano, no me gusta mucho, además el libro me pareció un poco predecible y creo que se estanca, las elucubraciones sobre cada acto, me hicieron un poco pesado avanzar. Pero está bien escrito, es una historia convincente y de repente uno encuentra por allí a algún conocido. Solo no es algo que a mí me guste.
This was a blind buy, and it definitely paid off. I've never read a Slovene author before, but I can see that there is definitely credence to the claim that Jancar is one Slovenia's most notable authors.
Gregor Gradnik moves from his native Slovenia to New Orleans to serve as a teacher's assistant for a creative writing professor whose priorities in teaching include never using exclamation points - "Never!" - to never to begin a novel with a dream as Jancar shows himself guilty of, and his work on a theory of melancholy as a physical emanation; as manifesting in black humours and other aberrations in the body.
From here, Gregor enters into relations with other academic acquaintances, a few other odd denizens of New Orleans who populate the nearby bars, and the cockroaches that populate his dingy apartment (One of them also named Gregor; Gregor Samsa) run by an idiotic landlord out of a slapstick who first founds a School for Creative Laughter as a psychological means of relieving his guilt over drunkenly striking a woman, then, once that fails, creating a love powder as a means of easing out of his involvement with selling heroin.
The plot in numerous ways is defined by parallels and, by necessity, the distance between each parallel - between America and Slovenia, his love interests in both countries, New Orleans' culture of celebration and the more somber, funerary disposition of his homeland.
After suffering his feelings as an outsider in New Orleans, Gregor finally ingratiates himself in the social dynamic of his colleagues/friends only for them to all move away and move on. Then, following an aborted attempt at following his American love interest and her partner to New York, the book nears its tragic climax when Gregor returns to somber Slovenia after receiving some bad news. Fantasies of his triumphal return are underscored by the stark reality in fevered cascades of language in the final pages, and the novel comes to its tragic, alienating end.
Breathtaking stuff. I’m still lost on what many of the vignettes and flashbacks and dream-sequences mean…beyond the carpet of unease engendered by Jancar’s surrealist imagery. What he deftly evinces (gradually over the course of the novel and at the end in breakneck speed) is this creeping existential feeling. “Mocking desire” is an apt name for this condition. He gives us so many concrete examples of people running and spinning in this mania of a life. The external is only realized from the libidinal labyrinth of the internal. Mixed in is commentary on self-obsession, Blaumann’s very overt interest in melancholy, an important motif, is an examination (ironically lacking self-awareness), of what I’d characterize as a sequela of frustrated desire. I didn’t really piece a lot of this together until almost a third through the book, but when everything clicked it started to feel very psychoanalytic….the juxtaposition between the internalized desire/obsession in various forms of dreams/fugues mirrored by the same force externalized in the bacchanalian raucous scenes from Mardi Gras or New York…Characters did crazy things born from intimations from deep within their egos. Everyone is running running running running. What are we really running from and what is it exactly that we are running towards!!!!? And while this isn’t a novel concept, Jancar’s story remains deeply compelling exploration of the fundamental question of existence in our skin and in our time. We are all handcuffed to the carousel, dancing and spinning, and how could we ever get off. Our ticket to ride is our being. We are forever headed towards an end as inexorable as the journey is absurd. “Ha-ha. Bim-bam.”
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
On a European (more specifically a Slovene) in America, mostly New Orleans, then New York, and his culture shock, which the narrator describes as something like finding yourself on a familiar movie set. Overseas and all at sea. It captures from the start a sense of dislocation and bewilderment, comically out of alignment with the rules of storytelling his senior colleague in creative writing emphasizes. America, he feels, is a land of mandatory happiness, optimism and laughter, which only accentuates the hero's melancholy, loneliness, sense of current and impending loss, forlorn desire, and comfort with cosmic irony, although he manages to find a fucked-up crowd in some kind of tune with his own fucked-upness both at the University where he works and in the dive bar to which he gravitates. He's a bit of a jerk, but the novel explores a general alienation in creative, funny and sad ways.
The prose style achieves a perfect balance between arrogance and self-deprecation; could have only been written by a Slovene. It's a bit reminiscent of Nabokov's Pnin -- the main character is a Slavic professor who is teaching abroad in New Orleans. Just like Pnin, he constantly breaches customs he is unaware of, he loses himself in the new world, and (as in all Slavic novels) he starts an ill-fated romance.
The narrative style is meta-fictional, with the narrator constantly questioning if he's telling the story correctly. The overbearing theme is melancholy -- what it is, how it comes to be, how to protect against it, etc -- and this is explored through an exhaustive examination of Burton's Anatomy of Melancholy by the professor. Of course, there are gratuitous references to a slew of other authors, most obviously Kafka and Dostoevsky.
10/10. Simultaneously the most enjoyable and most exasperating novel I've read this year.
The novel is by one of Slovenia's leading contemporary writers and is one of a small number of Jancar's works that can be read in English. It differs from much of his previous writing by including autobiographical material - the author was a Fulbright scholar in New Orleans. Although the events occur in New Orleans, the story is really about the author's understanding of his place in the world and his relationship to his native land. His final assessment is penetrating and captures the sense of estrangement of living in two worlds, an assessment that is both personal and universal
My husband told me to read this before I moved here to Slovenia, since it would "help me to understand Slovenian people better". I don't know if it actually achieved that, but it was very cute. The story of a visiting Slovenian professor in two of my favorite US cities -- New York and New Orleans --- was absurd and touching and definitely worth a read.