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The Explosion of the Radiator Hose
In this nominally true story of an epic, transcontinental road trip, Jean Rolin travels to Africa from darkest France, accompanying a battered Audi to its new life as a taxi to be operated by the family of a Congolese security guard. The ghost of Joseph Conrad haunts Rolin's journey, as do memories of his expatriate youth in Kinshasa in the early 1960s--but no less present are W. G. Sebald and Marcel Proust, who are the guiding lights for Rolin's sensual and digressive attack upon his own as well as the world's. By turns comic, lyrical, gruesome, and humane, "The Explosion of the Radiator Hose" is a one-of-a-kind travelogue, and no less an exploration of what it means to be human in a life of perpetual exile and migration.
168 pages, Paperback
First published February 1, 2007
69 people want to read
About the author
Jean Rolin
43 books12 followersJean Rolin is a French writer and journalist known for his distinctive narrative style and profound exploration of sociopolitical issues. Born on June 14, 1949, in Boulogne-Billancourt, France, Rolin has had a career marked by an interplay between journalism and literature. His works often blend fiction and reportage, creating a unique hybrid that reflects his sharp observational skills and deep engagement with the world.
Rolin studied literature at the University of Paris but found himself drawn to the tumultuous political landscape of the 1960s. He became actively involved in leftist movements, an experience that later influenced his writing, particularly in his nuanced depictions of political and social dynamics.
His career as a journalist took him to various parts of the globe, including Africa, the Middle East, and Latin America. These experiences enriched his literary work, as he frequently draws upon his travels to craft vivid narratives. His writing captures not only the physical landscapes but also the complexities of human existence in these regions.
Rolin’s literary debut came in 1980 with "Journal de Gand aux Aléoutiennes, a work that set the tone for his blend of memoir, travelogue, and fiction. He has since published numerous books, including L'Explosion de la durite (1997), Le Ravissement de Britney Spears (2011), and Les Événements (2020). His works are characterized by an understated yet incisive humor, a keen eye for detail, and an ability to illuminate the absurdities of contemporary life.
In addition to his literary achievements, Rolin has been recognized with several awards, including the prestigious Prix Médicis in 1996 for L'Homme qui a vu l'ours and the Prix Ptolémée in 2014 for Ormuz.
Rolin studied literature at the University of Paris but found himself drawn to the tumultuous political landscape of the 1960s. He became actively involved in leftist movements, an experience that later influenced his writing, particularly in his nuanced depictions of political and social dynamics.
His career as a journalist took him to various parts of the globe, including Africa, the Middle East, and Latin America. These experiences enriched his literary work, as he frequently draws upon his travels to craft vivid narratives. His writing captures not only the physical landscapes but also the complexities of human existence in these regions.
Rolin’s literary debut came in 1980 with "Journal de Gand aux Aléoutiennes, a work that set the tone for his blend of memoir, travelogue, and fiction. He has since published numerous books, including L'Explosion de la durite (1997), Le Ravissement de Britney Spears (2011), and Les Événements (2020). His works are characterized by an understated yet incisive humor, a keen eye for detail, and an ability to illuminate the absurdities of contemporary life.
In addition to his literary achievements, Rolin has been recognized with several awards, including the prestigious Prix Médicis in 1996 for L'Homme qui a vu l'ours and the Prix Ptolémée in 2014 for Ormuz.
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Displaying 1 - 9 of 9 reviews
February 1, 2016
Look at it as a kind of 21st century rewrite of Joseph Conrad's The Heart of Darkness. Jean Rolin writes of his journey to the Congo interior, but with a used Audi being imported from Europe to be used as a taxi in the lucrative Kinshasa market. But as the book's title, The Explosion of the Radiator Hose, hints, it was not an easy task.
In Congo, everybody's hand is out and obtrusive officialdom is rife:
Whether it is fiction or not, it can be read as nonfiction. Then again, it occasionally trails into riffs that are decidedly fictional. No matter. Rolin's book is vastly enjoyable.
In Congo, everybody's hand is out and obtrusive officialdom is rife:
I spent whole days in Kurt's office -- he busying himself with innumerable tasks (for the most part consisting of nothing but the patient removal of obstacles surreptitiously put in place by authorities or some other agent, in order to levy unwarranted taxes on the flow of goods and merchansise), me sitting sideways on a chair, sometimes silent but more often ready to chat, watching the endless procession of petitioners, lawyers, intermediaries, clients, or company employees staggering under bulging files full of papers needing to be stamped and signed.The book purports to be a novel, but is more real than most nonfiction I have read.
Whether it is fiction or not, it can be read as nonfiction. Then again, it occasionally trails into riffs that are decidedly fictional. No matter. Rolin's book is vastly enjoyable.
September 15, 2018
This understated little gem was recommended to me years ago by a reviewer that I have a lot of respect for, but I was always put off somewhat by the title of the book. With that ridiculous title, how could it really be that good?
The attraction, to me, is in Rolin's style. The basic outline of the book--a man, in order to help a friend, shepherds a used vehicle from France to Kinshasa in the Congo for use as a taxi--is interesting in its own right, but Rolin's un-weighted prose sends it to another level completely. There is a quote on the back cover of my copy that compares Rolin to W.G. Sebald--I'm usually dismissive of these kinds of comparisons, looking at them as a cheap way of luring readers in, and, what I've found, letting them down drastically. Here though, I think the quote is worth repeating: "Like Sebald, Rolin is a master of sentence structure. Honing his syntax with considerable elegance..." (World Literature Today). It's worth quoting not only because of the Sebald comparison, but for the use of the word elegance.
How refreshing this short book was! So many recent contemporary novels I've read seem intent on explaining life to their readers, or snarkily sniping at modern life. Rolin observes and reports, but withholds his judgments, which are left to the reader to sort out on their own. The results are well worth the comparisons to Sebald.
I did not have a French edition of the book to compare to the translation, but I suspect Louise Rogers Lalaurie did a superlative job. Style must be one of the most difficult things to capture in a translation, but in her work it remains consistent throughout. It will be interesting, should I ever get a chance to read any of Rolin's other works (almost all of them not yet translated into English) to see if this style holds true. Charming, elegant, and highly recommended, especially for admirers of Sebald's understated, peripatetic style.
The attraction, to me, is in Rolin's style. The basic outline of the book--a man, in order to help a friend, shepherds a used vehicle from France to Kinshasa in the Congo for use as a taxi--is interesting in its own right, but Rolin's un-weighted prose sends it to another level completely. There is a quote on the back cover of my copy that compares Rolin to W.G. Sebald--I'm usually dismissive of these kinds of comparisons, looking at them as a cheap way of luring readers in, and, what I've found, letting them down drastically. Here though, I think the quote is worth repeating: "Like Sebald, Rolin is a master of sentence structure. Honing his syntax with considerable elegance..." (World Literature Today). It's worth quoting not only because of the Sebald comparison, but for the use of the word elegance.
How refreshing this short book was! So many recent contemporary novels I've read seem intent on explaining life to their readers, or snarkily sniping at modern life. Rolin observes and reports, but withholds his judgments, which are left to the reader to sort out on their own. The results are well worth the comparisons to Sebald.
I did not have a French edition of the book to compare to the translation, but I suspect Louise Rogers Lalaurie did a superlative job. Style must be one of the most difficult things to capture in a translation, but in her work it remains consistent throughout. It will be interesting, should I ever get a chance to read any of Rolin's other works (almost all of them not yet translated into English) to see if this style holds true. Charming, elegant, and highly recommended, especially for admirers of Sebald's understated, peripatetic style.
March 31, 2012
Although it’s billed as an “epic transcontinental road trip,” that description doesn’t really fit Jean Rolin’s The Explosion of the Radiator Hose, making its first appearance in English this spring for Dalkey Archive. More an unconventional record of one man’s questionably truthful journey by ship from Paris, France to the Democratic Republic of the Congo, it’s only nominal kin to transcontinental African travelogues like Paul Theroux’s Dark Star Safari or Julian Smith’s recent Crossing the Heart of Africa. Drawing on history, his experience in delivering a gently-used Audi to the family of a Congolese ex-pat for usage as a taxi on the streets of Kinshasa and his life as a young émigré there in the 1960s, Rolin doesn’t pontificate his way through the locales he visits nor paint dismal pictures of them like Theroux. In a way, that’s part of the book’s strength, allowing him to inject considerable humor and levity into it and freeing him from becoming bogged down in the vastness of the very undertaking he writes about. Moreover, Rolin’s journey is more whimsical, or at least styled less self-seriously, than others similar to it, and as a result it’s a breathless and brief affair (only about 150 pages) decorated with wit, detail and elegant sentences.
Of course, in keeping with the tradition of most African travel lit written by Euro-Americans, the typical literary touchstone – Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness – figures somewhat prominently in Explosion, perhaps to its detriment. But while Conrad’s novella, written in 1902 and about as outdated and subtly racist as anything else more than a hundred years old is bound to be, has an obvious influence on Rolin (he probably mentions it every 10 pages or so), he doesn’t allow it to confine him or to define his adventure. In reality, it’s probably Proust who is a better foil to compare his deep and meandering prose with, which is probably the highest compliment any French man of letters hopes to receive.
The rich flavors of detail aside, though, for a story about “Africa,” that diverse and sprawling collection of 54 countries, more than just detail is necessary. Perhaps because Rolin doesn’t see much of the continent proper, Explosion, which lacks the pitying descriptions and judgments of locals that color most other accounts of African travel, lacks even many Africans – only Nsele and Patrice, his in-country guides, and a few streetwalkers figure at all prominently in the story. And, unlike in other travelogues, Explosion seems less about peeking into the lives of others and more about the narrator himself and the sense of danger he feels while pursuing the goal that brought him to the DRC. The incidental enlightenment that occurs and that is provided by learning of others’ lives is the backbone of travel literature, and it’s in this respect that Explosion fizzles. The narrative constantly falls back on its shifty French center rather than elevating its milieu into what all great travel lit aspires to be: a living biography of a place and its people. While Rolin is never as gratingly self-centered as Theroux in Dark Star Safari eventually becomes, The Explosion of the Radiator Hose is still, at its heart, a story about Africa written by a non-African, and one who freely admits in the text, “I envisage the present or evoke the past as a series of more or less embroidered stories designed to present myself in a favorable light.” With credentials such as those, it’s little surprise that we learn more about Rolin – and, to a lesser degree, the Congolese streetwalkers he purportedly turns down – than about the “heart of darkness” itself, that vast, bright and un-monolithic continent which continues to evade the pens of even the most discerning of writers.
Rating: 3.4/5.0
http://spectrumculture.com/2011/06/th...
Of course, in keeping with the tradition of most African travel lit written by Euro-Americans, the typical literary touchstone – Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness – figures somewhat prominently in Explosion, perhaps to its detriment. But while Conrad’s novella, written in 1902 and about as outdated and subtly racist as anything else more than a hundred years old is bound to be, has an obvious influence on Rolin (he probably mentions it every 10 pages or so), he doesn’t allow it to confine him or to define his adventure. In reality, it’s probably Proust who is a better foil to compare his deep and meandering prose with, which is probably the highest compliment any French man of letters hopes to receive.
The rich flavors of detail aside, though, for a story about “Africa,” that diverse and sprawling collection of 54 countries, more than just detail is necessary. Perhaps because Rolin doesn’t see much of the continent proper, Explosion, which lacks the pitying descriptions and judgments of locals that color most other accounts of African travel, lacks even many Africans – only Nsele and Patrice, his in-country guides, and a few streetwalkers figure at all prominently in the story. And, unlike in other travelogues, Explosion seems less about peeking into the lives of others and more about the narrator himself and the sense of danger he feels while pursuing the goal that brought him to the DRC. The incidental enlightenment that occurs and that is provided by learning of others’ lives is the backbone of travel literature, and it’s in this respect that Explosion fizzles. The narrative constantly falls back on its shifty French center rather than elevating its milieu into what all great travel lit aspires to be: a living biography of a place and its people. While Rolin is never as gratingly self-centered as Theroux in Dark Star Safari eventually becomes, The Explosion of the Radiator Hose is still, at its heart, a story about Africa written by a non-African, and one who freely admits in the text, “I envisage the present or evoke the past as a series of more or less embroidered stories designed to present myself in a favorable light.” With credentials such as those, it’s little surprise that we learn more about Rolin – and, to a lesser degree, the Congolese streetwalkers he purportedly turns down – than about the “heart of darkness” itself, that vast, bright and un-monolithic continent which continues to evade the pens of even the most discerning of writers.
Rating: 3.4/5.0
http://spectrumculture.com/2011/06/th...
January 12, 2012
Taken in by the garish cover and references to the author's gonzo journalism (undeserved, it turns out), I was surprised to find the narrator (we have to remind ourselves that this is putatively a fiction) spending great swathes of this book attempting not to be bored, usually reading his dear Proust, but not so fast that he would finish "Remembrance of Things Past" before the end of his voyage on a cargo ship to Africa. In fact very few incidents in this trip from Paris to Kinshasa exceed the excitement of having a radiator hose burst. That said, I loved this book. In technique, Rolin's writing reminds me of Jean-Philippe Toussaint's, a dead-pan humor about nearly nothing. But this is merely a way of distancing the reader psychically from the rather horrific history of the Congo, which in a way this book is a voyage into. Even in the sections where the rather byzantine series of coups, rebellions, alliances, intrigues are bruited, the coolly dispassionate attention to detail defuses the reader's indignation, so that it merely simmers for the duration.
Translators: more, please!
Translators: more, please!
August 7, 2018
In this fictional, but reads like factual, piece of travel writing, the main character travels to the Congo from France in order to deliver a used car. The story revolves around the narrator and his observations of the men he is traveling with, usually individuals working on cargo ships, with one section uncomfortably focusing on sex workers (uncomfortable because of how focused it is and the descriptions, even though they do not add to the narrative). The author is a fantastic writer, as his mastery of words is beautiful at points. However, this moves around too much between somewhat related memories and the present, without really saying anything. While I don't regret having read this, it isn't one I'll be returning to in the future.
October 14, 2017
Fascinating story of transporting a car from France to the DRC.
September 15, 2015
Easy to read and easy to follow, this book provides on its 200 pages quite an interesting insight into contemporary Congo, its recent history and relation with France.
A good read for someone who, like me, knows nothing about this part of the world and wants to change it.
A good read for someone who, like me, knows nothing about this part of the world and wants to change it.
August 13, 2011
Pfffffffffff!!! Même pas bon dans l`anecdote
August 24, 2016
Absurde mais de manière exquise.
Displaying 1 - 9 of 9 reviews