bookshelf

ERNESTO

Name: ERNESTO
Author: Umberto Saba
ISBN: 978-1-68137-082-8

by Umberto Saba translated by Estelle Gilson ‧ RELEASE DATE: March 28, 2017

An exciting, pithy translation that will surely leave readers electrified and wanting to read more of Saba's work.

bookshelf

Set at the cusp of the 20th century, Saba’s story takes the reader into the mind of a teenager in small-town Trieste, Italy.

Living at home with his mother and aunt, 16-year-old Ernesto is an apprentice to become a flour merchant. As a worker, he is frustrated, angry, and, most of all, hungry. Saba (Songbook: The Selected Poems of Umberto Saba, 2009, etc.) began writing this novel in 1953 but hadn't completed it by the time he died in 1957 at age 74. Written in three episodes, the story follows Ernesto's involvement with an older co-worker (“The Man”) to the point of jeopardizing his job, his relationship with his mother, and his own sanity. The Man propositions Ernesto in the opening scene of the book. Curious and desired, Ernesto agrees to various episodes of sex, at times playful but also violent, on top of the haystack while the boss is out. These moments catapult Ernesto into a world of confusion. As he navigates a complicated, lukewarm relationship with his mother, Ernesto is guilt-ridden about what has occurred (and keeps occurring). Interspersed through these scenes are interjections by the author, who can’t help but provide contextual notes to what he has written—almost to justify his text by providing more depth to his characters: “Of course, there were other reasons too, deeper ones, but [Ernesto] wasn’t aware of them.” Ernesto’s character is captivating, and it's clear that the author poured his heart out in creating him. In her introduction, translator Gilson (Ms. Juvenal, 2014, etc.) explains the deep relationship the author developed with Ernesto, and this love seeps through the sentences—a complicated love that puts up with Ernesto’s thoughts and whims and that, at times, tires Saba. As he wrote in a one-page section called "Almost a Conclusion": “Add to those pages, Ernesto’s breakthrough to his true calling, and you would in fact, have the complete story of his adolescence. Unfortunately, the author is too old, too weary and embittered to summon up the strength to write all that.”

An exciting, pithy translation that will surely leave readers electrified and wanting to read more of Saba's work.

Pub Date: March 28, 2017

ISBN: 978-1-68137-082-8

Page Count: 160

Publisher: New York Review Books

Review Posted Online: Jan. 22, 2017

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Feb. 1, 2017

Categories:

LITERARY FICTION

bookshelf

IF CATS DISAPPEARED FROM THE WORLD

by Genki Kawamura ; translated by Eric Selland ‧ RELEASE DATE: March 12, 2019

Jonathan Livingston Kitty, it’s not.

bookshelf

A lonely postman learns that he’s about to die—and reflects on life as he bargains with a Hawaiian-shirt–wearing devil.

The 30-year-old first-person narrator in filmmaker/novelist Kawamura’s slim novel is, by his own admission, “boring…a monotone guy,” so unimaginative that, when he learns he has a brain tumor, the bucket list he writes down is dull enough that “even the cat looked disgusted with me.” Luckily—or maybe not—a friendly devil, dubbed Aloha, pops onto the scene, and he’s willing to make a deal: an extra day of life in exchange for being allowed to remove something pleasant from the world. The first thing excised is phones, which goes well enough. (The narrator is pleasantly surprised to find that “people seemed to have no problem finding something to fill up their free time.”) But deals with the devil do have a way of getting complicated. This leads to shallow musings (“Sometimes, when you rewatch a film after not having seen it for a long time, it makes a totally different impression on you than it did the first time you saw it. Of course, the movie hasn’t changed; it’s you who’s changed") written in prose so awkward, it’s possibly satire (“Tears dripped down onto the letter like warm, salty drops of rain”). Even the postman’s beloved cat, who gains the power of speech, ends up being prim and annoying. The narrator ponders feelings about a lost love, his late mother, and his estranged father in a way that some readers might find moving at times. But for many, whatever made this book a bestseller in Japan is going to be lost in translation.

Jonathan Livingston Kitty, it’s not.

Pub Date: March 12, 2019

ISBN: 978-1-250-29405-0

Page Count: 176

Publisher: Flatiron Books

Review Posted Online: Feb. 16, 2019

Kirkus Reviews Issue: March 1, 2019

Categories:

LITERARY FICTION

bookshelf

THE SECRET HISTORY

by Donna Tartt ‧ RELEASE DATE: Sept. 16, 1992

bookshelf

The Brat Pack meets The Bacchae in this precious, way-too-long, and utterly unsuspenseful town-and-gown murder tale. A bunch of ever-so-mandarin college kids in a small Vermont school are the eager epigones of an aloof classics professor, and in their exclusivity and snobbishness and eagerness to please their teacher, they are moved to try to enact Dionysian frenzies in the woods. During the only one that actually comes off, a local farmer happens upon them—and they kill him. But the death isn't ruled a murder—and might never have been if one of the gang—a cadging sybarite named Bunny Corcoran—hadn't shown signs of cracking under the secret's weight. And so he too is dispatched. The narrator, a blank-slate Californian named Richard Pepen chronicles the coverup. But if you're thinking remorse-drama, conscience masque, or even semi-trashy who'll-break-first? page-turner, forget it: This is a straight gee-whiz, first-to-have-ever-noticed college novel—"Hampden College, as a body, was always strangely prone to hysteria. Whether from isolation, malice, or simple boredom, people there were far more credulous and excitable than educated people are generally thought to be, and this hermetic, overheated atmosphere made it a thriving black petri dish of melodrama and distortion." First-novelist Tartt goes muzzy when she has to describe human confrontations (the murder, or sex, or even the ping-ponging of fear), and is much more comfortable in transcribing aimless dorm-room paranoia or the TV shows that the malefactors anesthetize themselves with as fate ticks down. By telegraphing the murders, Tartt wants us to be continually horrified at these kids—while inviting us to semi-enjoy their manneristic fetishes and refined tastes. This ersatz-Fitzgerald mix of moralizing and mirror-looking (Jay McInerney shook and poured the shaker first) is very 80's—and in Tartt's strenuous version already seems dated, formulaic. Les Nerds du Mal—and about as deep (if not nearly as involving) as a TV movie.