{"id":280816,"date":"2010-11-26T16:00:00","date_gmt":"2010-11-26T16:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.wdev.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent-dev\/2010\/11\/26\/andres-neuman-grantas-best-of-young-spanish-language-novelists\/"},"modified":"2018-04-16T16:28:25","modified_gmt":"2018-04-16T16:28:25","slug":"andres-neuman-grantas-best-of-young-spanish-language-novelists","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/2010\/11\/26\/andres-neuman-grantas-best-of-young-spanish-language-novelists\/","title":{"rendered":"Andres Neuman [Granta's Best of Young Spanish-Language Novelists]"},"content":{"rendered":"

As we mentioned last Friday,<\/a> we’re going to spend the next 18 days highlighting all of the authors selected for<\/em> Granta’s _“Best of Young Spanish-Language Novelists” special issue. All past and future posts related to this issue can be found by clicking here.<\/a><\/p>\n

Today: Argentine novelist Andres Neuman, whose new short story “After Helena,” translated by Richard Gwyn, is included in this issue.<\/em><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

One of the running themes that’s developed over the past few days of this series is just how young these authors are. I’ve complained to friends and interns about how, for me, this issue literally marks the transition between “young with promise” and “not-so-young and no more excuses.” Based on Granta<\/em>‘s criteria, this would be the last year that I could personally qualify for one of their “Young X of Y” issue. (If I were a writer, if I were talented, etc., etc., I know, I know.) And it has been pretty mind-blowing going through these writers one-by-one, realizing just how much they’ve accomplished at such a young age. <\/p>\n

What this really underscores is how out of touch I am (we are?) with what’s really going on in contemporary writing around the world. I can only imagine how many articles would be written about an American author who’s done as much, and received as many awards at such a young age as Neuman has. <\/p>\n

At the age of 22, Neuman published his first novel, Bariloche<\/em>, following which he published three more novels, including El viajero del siglo<\/em> (more on that below), which won the Alfaguara Prize and the Critics’ Prize in Spain. He’s also published three short story collections, and a collection of aphorisms. Not to mention, he also published Como viajar sin ver<\/em>, a travel book, and his collected poems, which received the Hiperion Prize for Poetry. Ten books and two major awards in 11 years. And he was named to the Bogata 39.<\/a> Not bad. Not bad at all. (Oh to have all those wasted hours back . . . although I’m sure I’d just waste them all again.)<\/p>\n

“After Helena” is a pretty touching story of a man who, in the wake of the death of his love makes two decisions:<\/p>\n

\n

One stagnant evening as I was going over my list of contacts in search of some name that it might please me to utter, I took two simultaneous decisions: to take up smoking and to announce to my enemies that I forgave them. Burning cigarettes was an attempt to prove to myself that, although Helena was no longer there, I was
\nstill alive. To show to myself that I could survive each and every cigarette. As for my enemies, there was no plan. It was not done out of goodness. I perceived it as something inevitable, preordained. I simply saw the names Melchor, Ariel, Rub\u00e9n and Nuria in my diary. At first I tried to drop the idea. But, with each match that I lit (I have always preferred the slowness of matches to the immediacy of lighters), I was thinking: Melchor, Ariel, Rub\u00e9n, Nuria.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

It’s a touching, sweet story, that’s at its best when Neuman is describing his four various enemies and why they are enemies. That’s all great, but to be honest, the book I’m most curious about is El viajero del siglo<\/em>, the Alfaguara Prize winning novel that’s being translated into English and will be published by Pushkin Press. Here’s the description from Neuman’s website:<\/a><\/p>\n

\n

An unpleasant night. A mysterious traveller. A small maze-like city where getting one\u2019s bearings seems impossible. Just when the traveller is about to flee, a strange character stops him, changing his destiny forever. The rest is love and literature: an unexpected, unforgettable romance and a narrative world that, as it unfolds, condenses to a smaller scale the history of the modern West.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

\n

Traveller of the century<\/em> is an ambitious experiment: it invites us to look at the 19th Century with 21th-Century eyes. A novel that recovers the inspiration of classic narrative, written from a contemporary approach. A post-modern reading of Romanticism, set in post-Napoleonic times, in an imaginary city of Germany. A dialogue between the Europe of the Restoration and the political plans of the European Union. A narrative bridge spanning the past and the global problems of our present: inmigration, multiculturalism, nationalisms, emancipation of women. <\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

\n

The book represents a large cultural mosaic in the service of an intense plot, one concerned primarily with the transformative power of love. An exceptional, funny, mature novel from a writer wise beyond his years. Five hundred pages that the reader will not be able to put down for even a moment.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

And as a special treat for all Spanish readers out there, here’s an excerpt from the opening (also from Andres’s website, since the fricking PDF<\/span> version of this I have is tagged with some sort of voodoo security that prevents me from even copying a paragraph . . . ):<\/p>\n

\n

\u00bfTie-ne fr\u00ed-o-o?, grit\u00f3 el cochero con la voz entrecortada por los saltos del carruaje. \u00a1Voy bie-e-en, gra-cias!, contest\u00f3 Hans tiritando.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

\n

Los faroles se desenfocaban al ritmo del galope. Las ruedas escup\u00edan barro. A punto de partirse, los ejes se torc\u00edan en cada bache. Los caballos inflaban las mand\u00edbulas y soltaban nubes por la boca. Sobre la l\u00ednea del horizonte rodaba una luna opaca. <\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

\n

Hac\u00eda rato que Wandernburgo se dibujaba a lo lejos, al sur del camino. Pero, pens\u00f3 Hans, como suele pasar al final de una jornada agotadora, aquella peque\u00f1a ciudad parec\u00eda desplazarse con ellos. Encima de la cabina el cielo pesaba. Con cada latigazo del cochero el fr\u00edo se envalentonaba y oprim\u00eda el contorno de las cosas. \u00bfFal-ta-a mu-cho?, pregunt\u00f3 Hans asomando la cabeza por la ventanilla. Tuvo que repetir dos veces la pregunta para que el cochero saliera de su ruidosa atenci\u00f3n y, se\u00f1alando con la fusta, exclamase: \u00a1Ya-a lo ve us-te-e-ed! Hans no supo si eso significaba que faltaban pocos minutos o que nunca se sab\u00eda. Como era el \u00faltimo pasajero y no ten\u00eda con qui\u00e9n hablar, cerr\u00f3 los ojos. <\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

\n

Cuando volvi\u00f3 a abrirlos, vio una muralla de piedra y una puerta abovedada. A medida que se acercaban Hans percibi\u00f3 algo an\u00f3malo en la robustez de la muralla, una especie de advertencia sobre la dificultad de salir, m\u00e1s que de entrar. A la luz ahogada de las farolas divis\u00f3 las siluetas de los primeros edificios, las escamas de unos tejados, torres afiladas, ornamentos como v\u00e9rtebras. Tuvo la sensaci\u00f3n de ingresar en un lugar reci\u00e9n desalojado, de que los golpes de los cascos y las sacudidas de las ruedas sobre los adoquines produc\u00edan demasiado eco. Todo estaba tan quieto que parec\u00eda que alguien los espiaba conteniendo la respiraci\u00f3n. El carruaje gir\u00f3 en una esquina, el sonido del galope se ensordeci\u00f3: ahora el suelo era de tierra. Atravesaron la calle del Caldero Viejo. Hans divis\u00f3 un letrero de hierro balance\u00e1ndose. Le indic\u00f3 al cochero que parase. <\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

\n

El cochero descendi\u00f3 del pescante y al pisar tierra pareci\u00f3 desconcertado. Dio dos o tres pasos, se mir\u00f3 los pies, sonri\u00f3 con extrav\u00edo. Acarici\u00f3 el lomo del primer caballo, le susurr\u00f3 unas palabras de gratitud a las que el animal replic\u00f3 resoplando. Hans lo ayud\u00f3 a desatar las cuerdas de la baca, a retirar la lona mojada, a bajar su maleta y un gran arc\u00f3n con manijas. \u00bfQu\u00e9 lleva aqu\u00ed, un muerto?, se quej\u00f3 el cochero dejando caer el arc\u00f3n y frot\u00e1ndose las manos. Un muerto no, sonri\u00f3 Hans, unos cuantos. (\u2026) <\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

\n

Fue al quedarse solo con su equipaje frente a la posada cuando not\u00f3 aguijones en la espalda, un vaiv\u00e9n en los m\u00fasculos, un zumbido en las sienes. Conservaba la sensaci\u00f3n del traqueteo, las luces segu\u00edan pareciendo parpadeantes, las piedras movedizas. Hans se frot\u00f3 los ojos. Las ventanas empa\u00f1adas no dejaban ver el interior de la posada. Llam\u00f3 a la puerta, de la que a\u00fan colgaba una corona navide\u00f1a. Nadie acudi\u00f3. Prob\u00f3 el picaporte helado. La puerta cedi\u00f3 a empujones. Divis\u00f3 un pasillo alumbrado con candiles de aceite que pend\u00edan de un garfio. Sinti\u00f3 el beneficio c\u00e1lido del interior. Al fondo del pasillo se o\u00eda un alborotar de chispas. Hans arrastr\u00f3 con esfuerzo la maleta y el arc\u00f3n dentro de la posada. Permaneci\u00f3 debajo de un candil, intentando recobrar la temperatura. Se sobresalt\u00f3 al reparar en el se\u00f1or Zeit, que lo miraba tras el mostrador de la recepci\u00f3n. Iba a ir a abrirle, dijo. El posadero se movi\u00f3 con extrema lentitud, como si se hubiera quedado atrapado entre el mostrador y la pared. Ten\u00eda una barriga en forma de tambor. Ol\u00eda a tela viciada. \u00bfDe d\u00f3nde viene usted?, pregunt\u00f3. Ahora vengo de Berl\u00edn, dijo Hans, aunque eso en realidad no importa. A m\u00ed s\u00ed me importa, caballero, lo interrumpi\u00f3 el se\u00f1or Zeit sin sospechar que Hans se refer\u00eda a otra cosa, \u00bfy cu\u00e1ntas noches piensa quedarse? Supongo que una, dijo Hans, no estoy seguro. Cuando lo sepa, contest\u00f3 el posadero, por favor comun\u00edquemelo, necesitamos saber qu\u00e9 habitaciones van a estar disponibles. <\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

\n

El se\u00f1or Zeit busc\u00f3 un candelabro. Condujo a Hans a trav\u00e9s del pasillo, despu\u00e9s por unas escaleras. Hans miraba su figura oronda escalando cada pelda\u00f1o. Temi\u00f3 que se le viniera encima. Toda la posada ol\u00eda a aceite quem\u00e1ndose, al azufre de las mechas, a jab\u00f3n y sudor mezclados. Pasaron la primera planta y siguieron subiendo. A Hans le extra\u00f1\u00f3 observar que las habitaciones parec\u00edan desocupadas. Al llegar a la segunda planta, el posadero se detuvo frente a una puerta con un n\u00famero siete escrito en tiza. Recuperando el aliento, aclar\u00f3 con orgullo: La siete es la mejor. Sac\u00f3 de un bolsillo un aro, un aro sufrido, cargado de llaves, y tras varios intentos y maldiciones en voz baja, entraron en la habitaci\u00f3n. <\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

\n

Candelabro en mano, el posadero fue haciendo un surco en la oscuridad hasta llegar a la ventana. Al abrir los postigos, la ventana emiti\u00f3 un acorde de maderas y polvo. La luz de la calle era tan d\u00e9bil que, m\u00e1s que alumbrar la habitaci\u00f3n, se sum\u00f3 a la penumbra como un gas. (\u2026) <\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

\n

Boca arriba en el catre, Hans tante\u00f3 la aspereza de las s\u00e1banas con la punta de los pies. Al entornar los p\u00e1rpados, le pareci\u00f3 escuchar rasgu\u00f1os bajo las tablas del suelo. Mientras el sopor lo envolv\u00eda y todo dejaba de importarle, se dijo: Ma\u00f1ana junto mis cosas y me voy a otro sitio. Si se hubiera acercado al techo con una vela, habr\u00eda descubierto las grandes telara\u00f1as de las vigas. Entre las telara\u00f1as un insecto asisti\u00f3 al sue\u00f1o de Hans, hilo por hilo. <\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

See you next week!<\/p>\n

\n<\/a>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

As we mentioned last Friday, we’re going to spend the next 18 days highlighting all of the authors selected for Granta’s _“Best of Young Spanish-Language Novelists” special issue. All past and future posts related to this issue can be found by clicking here. Today: Argentine novelist Andres Neuman, whose new short story “After Helena,” translated […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":292,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[67486],"tags":[21496,7656,8366,36486,8356],"class_list":["post-280816","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-articles","tag-andres-neuman","tag-argentine-literature","tag-granta","tag-richard-gwyn","tag-young-spanish-novelists"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/280816","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/292"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=280816"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/280816\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":346706,"href":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/280816\/revisions\/346706"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=280816"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=280816"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=280816"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}