Read Los que aman, odian by Silvina Ocampo Adolfo Bioy Casares Online

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El doctor Huberman llega al apartado hotel de Bosque de Mar «en busca de una deleitable y fecunda soledad». Poco imagina que pronto se verá envuelto en las complejas relaciones que los curiosos habitantes del hotel han ido tejiendo. Una mañana, uno de ellos aparece muerto y otro ha desaparecido. Bajo la amenaza de los cangrejales y del mar, aislados por una tormenta de vieEl doctor Huberman llega al apartado hotel de Bosque de Mar «en busca de una deleitable y fecunda soledad». Poco imagina que pronto se verá envuelto en las complejas relaciones que los curiosos habitantes del hotel han ido tejiendo. Una mañana, uno de ellos aparece muerto y otro ha desaparecido. Bajo la amenaza de los cangrejales y del mar, aislados por una tormenta de viento y arena, las ya frágiles relaciones entre los personajes se tensan. Cualquier detalle es acusador, cualquier persona puede ser el asesino. Llegados a este punto, la novela se convierte en un fascinante viaje a través de las pasiones humanas, desde el amor hasta la envidia, la venganza, incluso el odio. Es aquí donde el carácter de los personajes cobra máxima importancia : los fantasmas y los deseos de cada uno, esos mundos imaginarios tan recónditos y secretos, forman parte del misterio que irá desvelándose a lo largo de la obra....

Title : Los que aman, odian
Author :
Rating :
ISBN : 9789500426503
Format Type : Paperback
Number of Pages : 151 Pages
Status : Available For Download
Last checked : 21 Minutes ago!

Los que aman, odian Reviews

  • Mike Puma
    2018-12-18 02:48

    Briefly: Once upon a time, there was a group of distinguished South American authors, a close-knit group of writers: Jorge Luis Borges, Adolfo Bioy Casares, Silvina Ocampo, J. Rodolfo Wilcox—they might be thought of as a sort of South American Inklings, only without the collective name for their group, and they had one other trait going for them unshared by the Inklings: talent. Some might disagree.Borges’ career is legendary, his editorial collaboration with Bioy Casares and Ocampo produced The Book of Fantasy, a stellar collection of short stories featuring pieces they wrote, as well as Wilcox, plus a host of world renowned authors, e.g. Ballard, Chesterton, Carrol, Cortazar, Hawthorne, Joyce, Fernandez, Wharton, Wilde, &c; what matters is that these are people who know their ways around short stories and novellas; Bioy Casares is, perhaps best known for his novella, The Invention of Morel, and his wife, Silvina Ocampo, has numerous, acclaimed short story collections to her credit . Which is the long route for bringing this meager review to the point, the novella: Where There’s Love, There’s Hate. (It would have been far more simple to say that Bolaño spoke glowingly of each of them, but I’ve come under scrutiny, to the point of becoming paranoid, the delusional was already well-established). In any case.This novella reads very much like traditional, generic mysteries, except that it doesn’t—not exactly. It does, but always while creating the impression that something else is going on—if not in the story, then in the text: a narrator, a fussy doctor who self-doses with arsenic, guides, manipulates, interprets, solves, resolves, a murder in a remote South American resort. There’s a murder, a hotel with a guest list and staff of suspects, another death (not fatal) and another death (also not fatal), misunderstandings, misreadings, the eventual Aha moment, the penultimate Aha moment, then the real Oh, it was Aha all along moment. 3.5 stars, rounded up, because I liked it, and it carried the single trait I’ve come to expect in best short stories or novellas: nothing extraneous.

  • Federico Sosa Machó
    2018-12-17 08:03

    Un policial clásico y entretenido, con las consabidas pistas falsas y múltiples sospechosos. Todo transcurre en un hotel alejado, y casi que entre cuatro paredes. Y este aspecto me resulta hoy en día, en tiempos de policiales negros para todos los gustos, un poco arcaico. Cero alusión a contextos históricos o sociales, cero problema fuera del caso sobre el que gira la acción. Todo resulta un poco artificioso. Así y todo mantiene el interés y no defraudará a quienes gustan del género.

  • Yani
    2018-12-06 01:59

    Me encanta el título porque da para pensar (mucho más en estos tiempos) y la novela tiene todos los tintes necesarios para que sea policial. Si es parodia o no, ya es otra cosa, pero al menos está el esfuerzo de asentar el ambiente, sacar a relucir un no- detective y crear intriga mediante hipótesis erróneas. Humberto Huberman es el protagonista y el narrador. Homeópata de profesión, Huberman es un hombre muy pagado de sí mismo y algo difícil de digerir al principio. Va en busca de la soledad que necesita un escritor (porque también escribe) a Bosque del Mar. Se aloja en el hotel de unos parientes y conoce a algunos de los huéspedes, sobre todo a Emilia y Mary Gutiérrez, que son el centro de la atención. Y en algún momento, sucede: alguien aparece muerto en su cuarto. A partir del descubrimiento del cadáver se desatan las secuencias de siempre: se aísla a la gente, llaman a la policía, alguien se autoimpone como revelador de misterios (Huberman, en este caso). Es una novela muy dinámica y cuesta soltarla, por eso la acabé tan rápido. Está bien escrita (la escribió Bioy Casares, ya que Ocampo aportaba ideas, de acuerdo al prólogo) y tiene la cantidad justa de detalles. El narrador destila un humor muy sutil y su descripción del lugar se aleja por momentos de su zona de confort, ese “mirar por encima de los demás” que lo caracteriza. El ambiente, el hotel aislado, la tormenta, el cangrejal, todo suma a la atmósfera que incomoda a la gente. Por otro lado (y me refiero a lo que menos me gustó), hay pistas o datos que se presentan bruscamente a los personajes y al lector. No sé si la extensión de la novela estuvo pactada antes de escribirla, pero sentí que hubo una especie de apuro por resolver las cosas. Los personajes femeninos no me agradaron y tampoco simpaticé con el modo en que son tratados por el resto. Adiviné el final en la mitad y me pareció que quedaron cabos sueltos que habían funcionado como distractores. (view spoiler)[ No se explica bien lo de la nota de Cornejo, por ejemplo.(hide spoiler)]No es lo mejor que se puede conseguir de estos dos grandes autores, pero cumple con el objetivo básico de la novela policial. Creo queLos que aman, odianfue una buena colaboración y salió un libro muy entretenido y de fácil lectura. Me despejó y lo disfruté. Así de simple.

  • Peter Landau
    2018-12-11 05:40

    The first thing I noticed about WHERE THERE’S LOVE, THERE’S HATE, a sort of detective novel satire that’s really a mediation on reading, is that such a slim niche book would never get published today. Of course, I’m wrong.The Argentinean novel, originally published in 1946, is making its first foray into English thanks to the wonderful independent publisher Melville House. Still, I find the work an anomaly. That it’s co-written by married couple Adolfo Bioy Casares and Silvina Ocampo is unusual. There’re the literary allusions. A few I picked out, like the name of a dingy being the Joseph K, and the many more I’m sure to have missed. This is a work that lives in the mind of the reader, which I guess is where all creative works do live, but few are so blatantly reverent of the giant shoulders they stand on. Everything is filtered through literature in this fictional world. The narrator, before launching into his detective narration, expresses his distaste for the genre. The murder victim is a translator of detective novels. Clues are discovered in manuscript pages. Investigators quote great literature. It’s an environment created by readers, for readers, and that’s where I feel the greatest loss. The real victim, the body in the heart of this mystery, is the novel itself, which today is buried in a potter’s field and only a few of us remember to bring flowers. My interpretation is far afield from the author’s goals, I’m sure, but I’ll let it stand like an epitaph.

  • Nate D
    2018-11-21 03:00

    Travel reading -- a slightly absurd, slightly sarcastic novel of detection set in a remote resort, perfect for my current environs (particularly a quick foray onto the remote island of Delma, in the Gulf of Arabia). Co-authors (and Argentine literary power couple who never otherwise collaborated directly on a novel) Casares and Ocampo were friends of Borges and their own brand of fantacist and surrealist (respectively) in their own right so they imbue this story of a mysterious death on vacation with eerie beachscapes, odd narrative ellipses, and postmodern sleights of hand with allude back to the process and structure of literature itself. It makes for something quite fun and twisty, if modest in scope and purpose. It's a crime that I've read so much more Casares than Ocampo to date, actually, I need to track dow more of her novels.

  • Bev
    2018-11-26 06:57

    Where There's Love, There's Hate by Adolfo Bioy Casares and Silvina Ocampo, literary luminaries from Argentina (and, incidentally, husband and wife), was first published in 1946. It was translated into English for the first time in 2013. Casares and Ocampo managed to produce an interesting mystery in the "British country house" style that is a clever murder mystery, a witty parody of those same Golden Age novels, and a highly literary piece of fiction all rolled into one. Suzanne Jill Levine and Jessica Ernst Powell have done an excellent job of translation with just a few minor passages having a slightly off-kilter feel.Dr. Humberto Huberman, physician, writer, and inveterate busybody, has gone to the Hotel Central at seaside Bosque de Mar for a literary vacation. He is in search of a quiet place to work on his adaptation of Petronius. But instead of peace and quiet, he finds himself in the middle of murder. A pretty, young translator named Mary is found dead on the very first night of his stay--apparently poisoned. There had been ripples of jealousy between Mary and her sister Emilia over Emilia's fiance. There is also the matter of Mary's missing jewels. Although the police are immediately on the scene, Huberman takes it upon himself to investigate and give the officials pointers when he thinks it needed. The police are quite sure that Emilia is the guilty party--even when notations in her sister's hand are found that make it seem that Mary has committed suicide. Then the owner's young son goes missing as well as Emilia's fiance (who winds up being a top-level Inspector). Is anyone who they seem to be? And what really happened to Mary and her jewels?This short piece is a fine little self-aware novel. It makes no bones about being aware that it is a mystery story about mystery stories. We have the police inspector who apparently takes the amateur into his confidence and who, apparently, is taking in all of Huberman's suggestions....but then goes on to ignore them. We have Huberman who finally comes round to the official view of the mystery...only to find they are all proved wrong. It is a very interesting look at the makings of a mystery story. Not terribly complex and good reading detectives will know who the culprit is. But I don't think this detracts from the fun. Four stars.First posted on my blog My Reader's Block. Please request permission before reposting. Thanks.

  • Pascale
    2018-11-30 05:51

    There's nothing special about this routine variation on the theme of a murder committed in an enclosed location, with a limited number of suspects. I was never really engaged with the puzzle, and only enjoyed the evocation of the wind-blown shore and the idiosyncrasies of the narrator. These were very minor pleasures and I feel rather aggravated by the grandiose claims made by Suzanne Jill Levine in her introduction to this edition. This story doesn't even deserve a footnote in Argentinian literary history.

  • KeithTalent
    2018-12-18 06:03

    Una novela anticuada y encantadora, para leer en un día ocioso y sentirse un savoir vivre como el narrador (o como el mismísimo Adolfito). La trama puede asemejarse a un whodoneit, y nada más equivocado. Si bien hay un médico culto e inteligente que llega a un hotel ubicado en una playa apartada, y lo que sigue gira en torno al crimen de un huésped, la resolución del misterio importa menos que los detalles. Como si Bioy hubiese escrito un primer borrador de La invención de Morel dictado por Silvina.

  • Harold
    2018-12-08 06:48

    Quick and easy. Casares writes effortlessly, laying a subtle veneer of sarcasm and humor over this send up of mysteries and detective stories. Using the isolated house in the country, or in this case, the beach, ala "Ten Little Indians", Casares and his wife Sylvia Ocampo collaborated on this one. The effect is not unlike the slightly off kilter touch Alfred Hitchcock mysteries often contained, although this predates it by several years.

  • Linda Abhors the New GR Design
    2018-12-15 09:01

    Re-read, this time, with the students

  • Anita
    2018-12-18 01:55

    No está nada mal, sin embargo tiene algunos desenlaces extraños, como si se hubieran aburrido al final y quisieron terminar el libro.

  • N N
    2018-11-24 05:52

    What do Marcel Proust, Lillian Hellman, Jorge Luis Borges and Adolfo Bioy Casares have in common? Their maids wrote books about them. So, according to the lady who 'did' for Bioy and Silvina, those two were hard at it like rabbits several times a day, often leaving their guests to themselves for half an hour's bedroom sport in the afternoon. I wonder if this could account for the mind-boggling amount of non-sequiturs (both semantic and psychological) in Bioy's work. Maybe in his post-coital languidness he just couldn't be bothered to pick up the threads. At least that is the impression that his texts always leave on me, this collaboration with his wife being no exception. Another irritating quality in common to many detective story pastiches: why are they all so hell-bent on making their narrators as precious as paper will bear? Crime fiction is not usually precious in its tone, so what the hell is the point? It might have been funny once, but once only. Finally, the authors who attempt this kind of thing never seem to get around to plotting. Making their characters sneak, lurk and prattle just doesn't cut it; throwing in an actual story would not have constituted an excessive show of courtesy, to quote the narrator.The murder victim in this one is a translator working on books by, among others, Michael Innes and Eden Phillpotts. Both were among the first dozen authors published by Bioy and Borges the year before in their El Séptimo Círculo collection. At the end of chapter 29, the narrator says, may nobody call me an unreliable narrator. According to Wikipedia, the first mention of unreliable narration in a critical text dates to 1961. Could Bioy and Silvina have been looking 15 years into the future here, or is that their translator's interpolation? Translators being these days what they are, nothing would surprise me.

  • Ana
    2018-11-30 03:03

    Muy entretenida la lectura y me trajo muchos recuerdos de la época en que leía mil libros de Agatha Christie por semana. Pero por eso, justamente, no me pude sacar de la cabeza a Diez Negritos en todo el trayecto de lectura. No había leído nada de estos autores, así que seguiré probando sus textos.

  • Ada
    2018-12-02 05:52

    "Mary nos interrogó: -¿No los molesto si apago la radio? -Se lo agradeceremos -dije, cortésmente. El silencio fue un alivio, pero no un alivio duradero. Callada la música, ya no teníamos dónde ocultarnos y cada uno era un impúdico testigo de la incomodidad de los demás y de la tragedia de Emilia. ¿Qué secreta enemistad ardía en el corazón de esta muchacha? Hay todavía un tratado por escribir sobre el llanto de las mujeres; lo que uno cree una expresión de ternura es a veces una expresión de odio, y las más sinceras lágrimas suelen ser derramadas por mujeres que sólo se conmueven ante sí mismas."

  • Ayelen
    2018-12-19 03:44

    4/5 estrellas.Es cortito pero sumamente intenso;en menos de 200 páginas te cuenta una historia que queda sin cabos sueltos.Me gusto mucho epro estando ellas dos en la escritura no puedo ser imparcial porque los adoro.

  • Soledad Blanco
    2018-12-14 01:46

    Los que aman, odian es una novela policial escrita por Silvina Ocampo y Adolfo Bioy Casares. Fue publicada por primera vez en 1946, en la legendaria colección El séptimo círculo, por la editorial Emecé. El ejemplar que yo tengo es una reedición que sacó el diario Clarín este año.El médico homeópata Humberto Huberman se hospeda en un solitario hotel de Bosque del Mar que pertenece a unos parientes lejanos, Esteban y Andrea. Huberman es escritor además de médico y se aloja en el hotel para poder realizar una adaptación para el cine de la obra Satyricón de Cayo Petronio. Allí conoce a las hermanas Emilia y Mary, a un hombre de apellido Atuel y a los doctores Cornejo y Manning. También vive en el hotel un niño llamado Miguel, que es sobrino de Andrea. Una tormenta de arena provoca que nadie pueda abandonar el hotel y, en medio de esta tempestad, un hecho luctuoso acontece: Mary aparece muerta. La policía irrumpe para investigar la misteriosa muerte y Huberman colabora activamente con la investigación.La novela Los que aman, odian está narrada en primera persona por el doctor Humberto Huberman, un narrador testigo que nos relata todo lo que ocurrió durante su estadía en Bosque del Mar. La novela consta de 34 capítulos breves y, en total, tiene solo 149 páginas por lo que se lee muy rápido.Se trata de una novela policial tradicional, similar a las de Agatha Christie, pero que transcurre en Argentina en la década del cuarenta, lo que le da un toque especial. Cumple con las características propias de este tipo de novelas: una muerte misteriosa, varios sospechosos y una resolución final. Muchos consideran que esta novela es, en realidad, una parodia de las novelas policiales de la época. El libro tiene fragmentos humorísticos. Un personaje muy gracioso es la dactilógrafa, que se la pasa matando moscas.Me gustaron mucho las imágenes que crearon los autores, como el hotel rodeado de arena, el velero abandonado en la playa, el cangrejal y la tormenta de arena que dura varios días. Con respecto a los personajes, me sorprendió encontrar a una "colega" en la novela. Mary es una traductora literaria, que se dedica a traducir novelas policiales. Esta novela nos muestra cómo se ejercía esta profesión de un modo artesanal en aquellos años. Mary escribía a mano o con una máquina de escribir. En su habitación, tenía los libros que había traducido como así también los borradores de sus traducciones (anotaba varias opciones para la traducción de una oración hasta que encontraba una que le gustaba). No debemos olvidar que Ocampo y Bioy Casares trabajaron como traductores literarios. También me sorprendió encontrar un personaje que tiene el mismo nombre de pila que mi papá (el comisario Raimundo Aubry). Se ve que Raimundo era un nombre bastante común por aquel entonces.Luego de leer la novela, dudé sobre cuántas estrellas ponerle en Goodreads. Sería 3,5 de 5, pero como siempre redondeo para arriba, quedó en 4 estrellas. No es un gran libro, a muchas personas tal vez le resulte muy simple la trama, en comparación con otras novelas. Sin embargo, me resultó muy entretenida además de contar con el encanto de ser el único libro que escribió de forma conjunta el matrimonio Ocampo-Bioy Casares, dos de mis escritores argentinos preferidos. Es un libro ideal para leer en el verano, en la playa, cuando uno quiere evadirse un rato de la realidad y las preocupaciones cotidianas.

  • Sol
    2018-11-26 01:42

    3.5/5Un clásico argentino que volvió a ser 'conocido' si se quiere por la película homónima (que no le hace justicia debo agregar) donde la trama, a pesar de tener pocas páginas, se desarrolla de forma clara y concisa, señalando que todos podrían ser el asesino pero que sorprende al final. No me voló la cabeza por la sorpresa pero cumple su cometido. Reseña completa en STCLOUDS.BLOGSPOT.COM

  • David Macpherson
    2018-12-17 01:55

    This was a decent spoof of mysteries. A remote hotel and a dead woman. There were parts that were terrific and weird and played up the traditions of mysteries really well, but it was kind of pedestrian for a lot of it.

  • Ad Blankestijn
    2018-12-13 07:00

    A spoof on closed room mysteries, a homage to Golden Age crime novels, and a fun piece of literature in its own right, written by Argentinian husband-wife team Adolfo Bioy Casares and Silvina Ocampo. But it is too flimsy to give it more than 2 stars...

  • Akiva
    2018-12-01 03:50

    I mostly just found this irritating. It was a seeming satire of detective novels, but the narrator was super annoying and the whole thing didn't really interest me. I can't help but wonder if there's some cultural context I'm missing.

  • Elidanora
    2018-11-29 01:49

    Este libro se desarrolla en el viejo hotel Ostende, cuando aún había allí médanos y arena para tapar parte del hotel. He leído muy poco de estos dos autores y debo decir que este libro no me hace salir a buscar corriendo algún libro de ellos, mas bien lo contrario.

  • Chris Shaffer
    2018-12-16 03:03

    A little simplistic compared to Casares' other books.

  • Jeffrey
    2018-12-04 00:37

    Nice little pastiche of the bumbling amateur detective who solves (or fails to) the mystery - not great but a nice little tidbit

  • tENTATIVELY, cONVENIENCE
    2018-11-25 08:50

    review of Adolfo Bioy Casares & Silvina Ocampo's Where There's Love, There's Hate by tENTATIVELY, a cONVENIENCE - January 7, 2015 2 friends of mine gave me this bk at the "mm 49: Vivian Fine Marathon!" (check out the feature-length movie online: http://youtu.be/vjqJ9xekECs ) on December 21, 2014E.V. As everyone who knows me knows, giving me a bk is something that is always welcome.. but.. what bk to get me is quite a challenge: I have so many bks already. This was an excellent choice: I have an ongoing interest in Latin American fiction & I'd just written a review of a bk about Argentina (Manuel Vázquez Montalbán's The Buenos Aires Quintet - full review titled: "Don't Let Them Get Away - With It! - !": https://www.goodreads.com/story/show/... ) & had touched on Bioy Casares's collaborator, Jorge Luis Borges, in that review. That sd, I knew next to nothing about Bioy Casares except that he & Borges coauthored Chronicles of Bustos Domecq wch I've read but remember not a whit. As such, I was grateful for the opportunity that reading this bk presented me to learn more about him & about Ocampo who I knew even less about. I didn't get the impression this was a major work by either of them. "This quirky novella, originally published in 1946, is the only known work of fiction by Silvina Ocampo with her husband Adolfo Bioy Casares. Where There's Love, There's Hate (Los Que Aman, Odian, literally "Those Who Love, Hate") is a genre-bender, like so much of the better-known fiction of Bioy Casares: a tongue-in-cheek mystery somewhere between detective spoof and romantic satire." (p vii) I didn't really find it to be that much of a "genre-bender" since many mysteries share its same qualities. "Adolfo Bioy Casares (1914-1999) was born into a wealthy family in Buenos Aires and wrote his first novella—for a cousin with whom he was in love—at the age of eleven. He published his first book, Prólogo (Prologue), just four years later." (p iii) Ok, so I immediately have a bad attitude about the guy: I don't read 'precocious', I read 'spoiled'. It's all well & good to start off from such a privileged position that you can have a bk published by the time you're 15 but don't expect me to respect you for it. It's all too easy to be witty & clever when yr life is completely easy & comfortable from A to Z. "Bioy's most famous work is The invention of Morel (1940), which inspired the film Last Year at Marienbad." (p iii) Now I'm just truly confused: it's generally stated that Alain Robbe-Grillet wrote the story that the film is based on. I checked wikipedia & found this footnote: "According to Thomas Beltzer, in Last Year at Marienbad: An Intertextual Meditation, the film script may have been based in part on The Invention of Morel, a science fiction novel published in 1940 by the Argentine writer Adolfo Bioy Casares. The Invention of Morel is about a fugitive, hiding out alone on a deserted island who one day awakens to discover that the island is miraculously filled with anachronistically dressed people who, according to the text, "dance, stroll up and down, and swim in the pool, as if this were a summer resort like Los Teques or Marienbad." He later learns that they are creations of an inventor, Morel, whose recording machine captured the exact likenesses of a group of friends, which are "played" over and over again. The Italian director Emidio Greco made a film L'Invenzione di Morel (1974) based on Bioy Casares' novel, and earlier there was a French TV movie, L'invention de Morel (1967). Although Alain Robbe-Grillet acknowledged familiarity with the novel of Bioy Casares, Alain Resnais had not read the book at the time of making the film. (Robert Benayoun, Alain Resnais: arpenteur de l'imaginaire. Paris: Ramsay, 2008. p. 98.)" - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Last_Yea... That doesn't sound like a very convincing connection to me but since I had a friend who studied w/ Robbe-Grillet who hated his guts I'm probably a little inclined to believe something nasty about him. As for Ocampo?: she studied painting under "Giorgio de Chirico and Fernand Léger" (p iii) wch is astounding enuf & "With Borges and Bioy Casares she edited the groundbreaking 1940 Anthology of Fantastic Literature." (p iii) Yet another thing to add to the 'want-to-read' list. In her Introduction, the translator states that: "Now of course I look at these names and sadly observe how most of them, like Bioy & Silvina, are gone inhabitants of an irretrievable past. / This irretrievable past is what urgently justifies our translation and publication now of this little book". (p ix) You want "irretrievable"?! What about all the people who were disappeared by the Argentinian government while the pampered poodles like the authors of this bk thrived?! Still, the giving of this bk to me & the motive behind its translation fit nicely w/ my similar sentiment for emphasizing the work of Vivian Fine. The narrator is taking a vacation, seeking peace & quiet, so he can adapt Petronius's Satyricon. There's more than a little irony to that given that Petronius wrote the Satyricon after he'd been sentenced to death-by-suicide by the Caesar of the time. Petronius is sd to've written it while he slowly bled himself to death. The bk begins in a way that seems to play off this: "THE LAST DROPS OF ARSENIC (ARSENICUM album) dissolve in my mouth, insipidly, comfortingly. To my left, on my deak, I have a copy, a beautiful Bodoni, of Gaius Petronius' Satyricon." - p 3 Since I only recall being familiar w/ arsenic as a poison & not as a medicine (in smaller doses), this struck a suicidal note: is the narrator poisoning himself slowly while he adapts Petronius's slow suicide? "Now, Gaucho Films, Inc. had commissioned me to write an adaptation of Petronius' tumultuous book, set in present-day Argentina. A seclusion at the beach was de rigueur." - p 4 Is this very bk the bk the narrator's writing? "When will we at last renounce the detective novel, the fantasy novel and the entire prolific, varied and ambitious literary genre that is fed by unreality?" (p 5) In other words, the narrator's literary tastes are satirically presented as contrary to those of the actual authors. The remoteness of the location is established: "A short while later, I noted that the potholes had ceased. The chauffeur told me: ""We must move quickly. The tide comes up in a few hours." "I looked around. We were advancing slowly over some thick planks, in the middle of a stretch of sand. The sea appeared in the distance, between the sand dunes to the right. I asked: ""Well, then, why are you going so slowly?" ""If a tire goes off the planks, the sand will bury us." "I did not want to think about what would happen were we to encounter another automobile. I was too tired to worry. I didn't even notice the cool marine air. I managed to formulate the question: ""Are we nearly there?" ""No," he replied. "Twenty Five miles."" - pp 10-11 At the resort where the narrator stays & the murder happens there's a boat stranded on the beach: "In order to change the subject I begged my cousins to tell me what they knew about the sailboat foundered in the sand that I had seen during my afternoon walk. Esteban replied: ""It's the Joseph K.["]" - p 24 I have to wonder: what percentage of readers get such literary references these days? "Joseph K", of course, was the main character in Kafka's The Trial. Are my younger friends more likely to understand the pop cultural references of Girl Talk's latest mash-up? Probably.. & that's 'valid' too - I'm just glad when cultural can be rich w/ intertextuality reinforcing its body. I 'get' certain references, making me identify w/ the work in wch they appear more; other people 'get' other references, making them identify w/ a different type of work. It's all good. When one doesn't get the reference there's the feeling of missing out on an inside joke: ""A book of non-fiction," he replied. "A guide to locomotives. I carry in my mind a map of the country (limited to railway lines, of course) in which I endeavor to include even the most insignificant of locations, with their respective distances and hours of departure..." ""You are interested in the fourth dimension, the space-time continuum," I declared. ""The literature of evasion, I'd call it," Manning observed, enigmatically." - p 52 I had a train-hopper friend named Scott who had a map of places where he could hop trains tattooed on his leg. The murder victim (or suicide) died from poison (not arsenic) & the narrator goes to the trouble to secret his poison from the police inspector: "With my right hand resting casually on the marble tabletop, I retrieved the vial of arsenic. I was prepared to suffer any indignity save the confiscation of these drops, the pillars of my health. "When the police at last finished their inspection of my medicine kit, I dropped the arsenic in among the other vials." - p 57 Suspicious? Not enuf to make this reader think he might be the murderer. The narrator, perhaps a bit too pompous, gets a bit over-inflated by the authors: "I looked at the Commissioner in silence. then, I announced dramatically: ""In a boy's room, in the basement of this hotel, hidden among some trunks, there is a dead bird. An albatross. I found it this afternoon, with its chest torn open, its entrails gone." I paused, then continued. "Just a few hours later, while Doctor Montes was examining the body of the dead girl, in the basement, a pair of solitary hands was embalming the albatross. What are we to make of these symmetrical events? The poison that kills the girl, in the bird, preserves the simulacrum of life."" - p 61 Why an albatross? Albatrosses are surprisingly large (to me, at least). Wikipedia states that "The word albatross is sometimes used metaphorically to mean a psychological burden that feels like a curse." The use of the albatross here as a metaphor Is hard to overlook: it's a literary blunt object. All in all, this is the kind of bk I imagine reading at a nice warm beach w/ a cocktail in hand. Instead, I read it in my chilly house in winter time w/ snow either impending or already outside.

  • Helen
    2018-12-13 00:46

    This tiny (128 pages) Argentinian murder mystery was originally published in 1946 and translated into English in 2013. A murder (or is it suicide?) takes place in a remote seaside hotel with only a few possible suspects. The main narrator is Doctor Humberto Huberman who, although a suspect himself, also plays the role of assistant investigator when the police finally show up.Dr. Huberman reminded me of Agatha Christie's Poirot; he is a bit vain and also much attached to his meals. The writing was a bit difficult to follow at times, but otherwise fairly good. Here is an example of a "convoluted" paragraph: History highlights personalities that have grown because of the defects of others. I had the sensation that all of Aubry's past deficiencies aggrandized Atwell. Can I say, as a symbol of my feelings, that I looked at the black face of my antimagnetic watch, and that I mentally imprinted the exact time the great detective entered upon the scene? I will only add that this reminds me of Parolles's assertion that merit is seldom attributed to whomever it corresponds. "Is it not monstrous?" as Hamlet wonders, in his monologue?

  • Shawn Birss
    2018-12-19 00:35

    After finishing The Invention of Morel last week, and finding it immediately among my favourite novels, I did a quick search at the library for other books by the same author, and came upon this one. As a reader who came of age reading Sherlock Holmes novels, I took a particular delight in this one. It is a snappy, very tightly plotted murder mystery on one level. But on a deeper level, it is also a witty, tongue-in-cheek, self-aware little sendup of the genre. It is highly readable, and a lot of fun. Like The Invention of Morel, it also manages to be a little romantic as well. And this, beyond the fact that it was cowritten by a husband and wife. Though not so much a classic of literature as Morel deserves to be, this little novel is nonetheless a great book for any lover of detective novels, murder mysteries, or literary satire. ☠Trade PaperbackThe Neversink Library, Melville House Publishing, 2013Original Copyright - 1946Introduction by Suzanne Jill LevineTranslated by Suzanne Jill Levine and Jessica Ernst PowellFour StarsJanuary 7, 2018 - January 9, 2018☠

  • Angie Astorga
    2018-11-20 07:02

    Reseña: Otra vez Bioy Casares logró cautivarme con una de sus novelas, aunque esta vez es en colaboración con su esposa Silvina Ocampo, me entretuvo mucho su lectura. La historia narra la muerte de uno de los huéspedes de un hotel. Y como todo policial nos mantiene expectantes hasta el final. Los sospechosos son los únicos huéspedes del alojamiento ya que con la tormenta de arena, es imposible salir o entrar. Ésta es una de las particularidades que tiene la narración, porque el hotel está alejado en el medio de una playa. Es una novela corta, es ligera y una agradable lectura para un fin de semana.

  • RAJ SAMRAT
    2018-12-14 05:46

    A unique read

  • Nadia Montiel
    2018-12-16 04:55

    Ok

  • Dario
    2018-12-03 02:36

    Policial corto, entretenido, se mezclan un poco la aventura con el crimen pasional. Resulta de ágil lectura, te deja ganas de un poco más, como los buenos libros.