{"id":287886,"date":"2011-11-07T15:00:00","date_gmt":"2011-11-07T15:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.wdev.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent-dev\/2011\/11\/07\/death-as-a-side-effect\/"},"modified":"2018-04-16T16:16:51","modified_gmt":"2018-04-16T16:16:51","slug":"death-as-a-side-effect","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/2011\/11\/07\/death-as-a-side-effect\/","title":{"rendered":"Death as a Side Effect"},"content":{"rendered":"

If we were to ignore for just a moment the fact that Death as a Side Effect<\/em> was originally published (in Spanish) in 1997 in Argentina, we might be tempted to read it in the context of recent healthcare reforms and debates in the United States, with the world painted by Ana Mar\u00eda Shua nestling easily among the nightmares of death-panel-phobes. Luckily, this book is much more than that.<\/p>\n

As Ernesto struggles to come to terms with his dying father, he discovers that the world he lives in is ruled not only by violent gangs of vandals and professional thieves who make even simple activities like walking outside so dangerous as to be unthinkable, but also by the medical professionals at state-run hospitals and Convalescent Homes that strip their patients\u2014or maybe more like prisoners\u2014of any say in their own healthcare. In the meantime, his mother is going crazy, his sister is of little help, and his girlfriend has left him. Add to this the fact that the entire narrative is told by Ernesto and is explicitly directed toward his absent (read: already lost) lover\u2014think one-sided epistolary tale, or a novel-length version of Elena Poniatowska\u2019s \u201cEl Recado\u201d (in a somewhat less neurotic voice and with much more really going on)\u2014and you have a main character buried in layers of complications that make his world difficult, if not nigh impossible, to navigate. (No wonder he occasionally flips to the Suicide Channel on the television.) It is, in part, precisely these multiple layers and their expert unfolding in narrative time that make this novel so compelling. Having read the book with only the jacket copy as preparation, I found it to be far more intriguing\u2014and on many more levels\u2014than I had expected.<\/p>\n

Death as a Side Effect<\/em> is a book about aging, death, absence, coldness, fear, and entrapment\u2014which, taken as a group, makes it sound like a horribly depressing read. It isn\u2019t, though, because even amid the darkness there are bright sparks of humor. Take, for instance, a bit of Ernesto\u2019s evidence of his mother\u2019s going crazy: \u201cYesterday Mama threw a pot of stew down the stairs,” or his comically erudite description of a part of his reaction to having witnessed an act of violence: \u201cAs the car had new upholstery, I was circumspect enough to vomit on the street before I climbed in.” It is especially in such careful word choice and construction of tone that Andrea G. Labinger\u2019s translation shines, as the prose seamlessly shifts among the range of emotions in this novel, as in Ernesto\u2019s darkly humorous reflection on his dying father\u2019s belongings:<\/p>\n

\n

Sadly, I realized there was nothing, absolutely nothing there that I might want to keep, except maybe that naked, reclining woman, whose oversized breasts were salt and pepper shakers and which struck me as the most touching symbol of my father’s bad taste and his enthusiastic vitality.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

In addition to the temporary\u2014and incomplete\u2014lightening of mood afforded by these periodic dollops of humor, there are also moments of hope\u2014hope for some kind of freedom\u2014such as this dream of Ernesto\u2019s:<\/p>\n

\n

I fell asleep. I dreamed I was flying. With a single leap, I gained altitude and soared through the air, very high above the city. It was pleasant, and it filled me with immeasurable pride. In my dream, I realized that flying was very unusual. Only I, among all men, could fly, only I in the entire history of the human race. I advanced effortlessly, feeling the breeze against my face, floating with an ease I never had in water. Then, without any transition, we were in the country, and I had gathered together a group of acquaintances to watch me fly. I ran and leaped, trying to rise, but my leaps were just that: enormous leaps, twenty or thirty yards long, that lifted me quite a bit above the ground. No matter how hard I attempted to run full speed, to try every which way, it did me no good. In real life, these boundless leaps would have been extraordinary. In the dream, they were simply proof that I couldn\u2019t fly. The observers began to play poker. <\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

His freedom is imperfect, its exercise incomplete, the outcome laughable and a touch unsettling; but still, the dream hints that there may be something beneath the surface that threatens the fearsome authority of the dystopia, something that flirts with a sort of balance in Ernesto\u2019s world that could, perhaps, make it tolerable after all.<\/p>\n

In the screwed-up world of Shua\u2019s novel, perhaps the only sanity rises from Goransky, the film director with delusions of grandeur for whom Ernesto works as a scriptwriter and later as a makeup artist. Goransky has made only one successful film: a short documentary set in Antarctica. Still, he has dreams even bigger than he\u2014\u201can enormous, heavy man with the brightest eyes you could ever imagine, in constant motion, a hippo on amphetamines, a bear hypnotized into thinking he was a squirrel\u201d\u2014dreams of making the great feature film of his era, a film also set in Antarctica. He throws a party to support his film project\u2014a Coldness-themed party, which is at once over-the-top decadent and ridiculous, as well as strangely comforting in its absurd play at an alternative world:<\/p>\n

\n

There was a tea for Arctic foxes. And a cluster of Lapp huts, where exquisite dishes were served, not always in keeping with the central theme of the party as far as ingredients were concerned, but authentic in their presentation. The roofs of the huts sloped to the floor, and in the terribly hot interior, attractive, sweaty men, bare-chested and dressed in reindeer hide pants rolled up to their knees, served oysters shaped like snowflakes with white sauce and meringue, and extra-tender unborn veal steaks rotating over a fire, as if they were a single slab of flesh stuck to the enormous femur that served as a central skewer: a bear leg.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

By turns horrifying, touching, thoughtful, comical, and even absurd, Death as a Side Effect<\/em> is not likely to disappoint. And at just over 160 pages, you can probably still squeeze it into your summer reading mix. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

If we were to ignore for just a moment the fact that Death as a Side Effect was originally published (in Spanish) in 1997 in Argentina, we might be tempted to read it in the context of recent healthcare reforms and debates in the United States, with the world painted by Ana Mar\u00eda Shua nestling […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":292,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[67486],"tags":[14686,5886,7656,43826,36566,6516],"class_list":["post-287886","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-articles","tag-ana-maria-shua","tag-andrea-labinger","tag-argentine-literature","tag-death-as-a-side-effect","tag-emily-davis","tag-spanish-literature"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/287886","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=287886"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/287886\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":342446,"href":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/287886\/revisions\/342446"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=287886"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=287886"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=287886"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}