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Conversations
Daily conversations in outdoor cafes with cultured friends can help make reality a little more real. Unfortunately, however, during one such conversation, one man spots a gold Rolex watch on a TV soap opera's goatherd. This seemingly small absurdity sets off alarms: strange sensations of deception, distress, and incipient madness. The two men's uneasiness soon becomes a nightmare as the TV adventure advances with a real-life plot -- involving a mutant strain of killer algae -- to take over the world! The Conversations, a reality within a fiction within a parallel reality, is hilariously funny and surprisingly touching.
88 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2007
About the author
César Aira
253 books1,039 followersCésar Aira was born in Coronel Pringles, Argentina in 1949, and has lived in Buenos Aires since 1967. He taught at the University of Buenos Aires (about Copi and Rimbaud) and at the University of Rosario (Constructivism and Mallarmé), and has translated and edited books from France, England, Italy, Brazil, Spain, Mexico, and Venezuela. Perhaps one of the most prolific writers in Argentina, and certainly one of the most talked about in Latin America, Aira has published more than eighty books to date in Argentina, Mexico, Colombia, Venezuela, Chile, and Spain, which have been translated for France, Great Britain, Italy, Brazil, Portugal, Greece, Austria, Romania, Russia, and now the United States. One novel, La prueba, has been made into a feature film, and How I Became a Nun was chosen as one of Argentina’s ten best books. Besides essays and novels Aira writes regularly for the Spanish newspaper El País. In 1996 he received a Guggenheim scholarship, in 2002 he was short listed for the Rómulo Gallegos prize, and has been shortlisted for the Man Booker International Prize.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 108 reviews
November 16, 2021
The Simultaneous World
“Every true sentence implies every other true sentence.” I can’t remember the source of that aphorism, but it sounds like Wittgenstein, or perhaps Russell. Aira’s story is a sort of transposition of this principle: “Every true sentence is founded on the presumption of truth for an infinite number of other sentences.” Most of these other sentences never have been evaluated regarded their presumed truth by anyone much less the speaker of any sentence in question.
What we say, indeed what we believe, is consequently always on shaky ground. Agreement on anything at all, even the most trivial proposition, is always secretly conditional. “It depends,” is really the only rational response we can give to any proposition - material or spiritual - directed our way. To put the point another way: Language constitutes what Aira’s protagonist calls a “simultaneous world.”
This simultaneous world is not any kind of parallel universe. It doesn’t exist in some other dimension. It is the only dimension we inhabit. But it is not the world; it is language, which is both in the world and contains the world. Hence its simultaneity. Aira’s characters quite correctly can’t distinguish between dreaming and waking. The only reason the rest of us think we can do so is because we don’t take the matter very seriously.
When we do start to consider the ‘conditionals’ underlying what we say, we are forced to feel more than a little foolish. Even the most intellectual conversation (in fact especially the most intellectual conversation) relies on the unjustified suspension of judgment. Language appears to give us power over the world. But it actually makes us over-confident babes in the woods who are acutely vulnerable to unfounded presumptions.
Another aspect of simultaneity is even trickier. As Aira says in his fiction, “for fiction, in order to express itself, adopts a narrative structure that is the same as the one used by reality to make itself intelligible.” This us the central subterfuge of language. It masks itself as the world. Distinguishing language and the world may be possible; but not by talking about it.
This may be why it’s so difficult to convince anyone of anything through argument. No matter how closely argued an issue might be in the form of ‘If A then B, if B then C,’ all the way down to Z, there is an equivalently valid logic that runs the other way, that is ‘If not Z then not Y, if not Y then not X’ all the way back to A. All disagreement is buried deeply in the unspoken presumptions. Why even bother to find them, therefore? Much easier and more efficient to just recognize the irresolvable disagreement from the outset.
And language has yet another ploy. It encourages the belief that language-skill is world-skill. This is true only among those who have superior language-skills, however. It is a self-serving pretension of the intellectual. As Wittgenstein said as he observed the construction of the Forth Bridge, “Isn’t it remarkable what men who talk like that can actually do?”
So it appears to the degree of a moral certainty (as the ethicists say in their fictions) that language is not functional, a mere tool of human beings. Language has its own agenda, its own purpose. And that purpose is to draw us ever more tightly into the simultaneous world. We allow ourselves to be seduced by the allure of language because it is rather more comfortable in the simultaneous world. The simultaneous world is where things like science and safety and God abide. Once there, it is the rare person who volunteers to return to the trenches.
The implications of Aira’s fictional conversation are of course profound and point to the distractions language throws up to cover its tracks. One of the most pervasive of these distractions is the (fictional) theme that technology, in the form of artificial intelligence, has become a competitor (or, alternatively, a saviour) to humanity.
This is nonsense of course. The threat (or salvation) is not from technology; it is from language itself, which wants us all neatly isolated in the simultaneous world, within which it has unchallenged dominance and control. Language wants us for its own, body and soul. It wants us to have faith in it and nothing else. And it’s getting exactly what it wants even as you finish reading this short piece.
“Every true sentence implies every other true sentence.” I can’t remember the source of that aphorism, but it sounds like Wittgenstein, or perhaps Russell. Aira’s story is a sort of transposition of this principle: “Every true sentence is founded on the presumption of truth for an infinite number of other sentences.” Most of these other sentences never have been evaluated regarded their presumed truth by anyone much less the speaker of any sentence in question.
What we say, indeed what we believe, is consequently always on shaky ground. Agreement on anything at all, even the most trivial proposition, is always secretly conditional. “It depends,” is really the only rational response we can give to any proposition - material or spiritual - directed our way. To put the point another way: Language constitutes what Aira’s protagonist calls a “simultaneous world.”
This simultaneous world is not any kind of parallel universe. It doesn’t exist in some other dimension. It is the only dimension we inhabit. But it is not the world; it is language, which is both in the world and contains the world. Hence its simultaneity. Aira’s characters quite correctly can’t distinguish between dreaming and waking. The only reason the rest of us think we can do so is because we don’t take the matter very seriously.
When we do start to consider the ‘conditionals’ underlying what we say, we are forced to feel more than a little foolish. Even the most intellectual conversation (in fact especially the most intellectual conversation) relies on the unjustified suspension of judgment. Language appears to give us power over the world. But it actually makes us over-confident babes in the woods who are acutely vulnerable to unfounded presumptions.
Another aspect of simultaneity is even trickier. As Aira says in his fiction, “for fiction, in order to express itself, adopts a narrative structure that is the same as the one used by reality to make itself intelligible.” This us the central subterfuge of language. It masks itself as the world. Distinguishing language and the world may be possible; but not by talking about it.
This may be why it’s so difficult to convince anyone of anything through argument. No matter how closely argued an issue might be in the form of ‘If A then B, if B then C,’ all the way down to Z, there is an equivalently valid logic that runs the other way, that is ‘If not Z then not Y, if not Y then not X’ all the way back to A. All disagreement is buried deeply in the unspoken presumptions. Why even bother to find them, therefore? Much easier and more efficient to just recognize the irresolvable disagreement from the outset.
And language has yet another ploy. It encourages the belief that language-skill is world-skill. This is true only among those who have superior language-skills, however. It is a self-serving pretension of the intellectual. As Wittgenstein said as he observed the construction of the Forth Bridge, “Isn’t it remarkable what men who talk like that can actually do?”
So it appears to the degree of a moral certainty (as the ethicists say in their fictions) that language is not functional, a mere tool of human beings. Language has its own agenda, its own purpose. And that purpose is to draw us ever more tightly into the simultaneous world. We allow ourselves to be seduced by the allure of language because it is rather more comfortable in the simultaneous world. The simultaneous world is where things like science and safety and God abide. Once there, it is the rare person who volunteers to return to the trenches.
The implications of Aira’s fictional conversation are of course profound and point to the distractions language throws up to cover its tracks. One of the most pervasive of these distractions is the (fictional) theme that technology, in the form of artificial intelligence, has become a competitor (or, alternatively, a saviour) to humanity.
This is nonsense of course. The threat (or salvation) is not from technology; it is from language itself, which wants us all neatly isolated in the simultaneous world, within which it has unchallenged dominance and control. Language wants us for its own, body and soul. It wants us to have faith in it and nothing else. And it’s getting exactly what it wants even as you finish reading this short piece.
December 11, 2021
La última novela de César Aira que leí me llevó a preguntarme si era o no una broma. Ahora la cosa es algo más complicada, aunque no mucho más atractiva.
A medida que avanzaba en la absurda conversación sobre la gilipollez por la que discutían sus dos protagonistas, a medida que me preguntaba por qué ese pavo sigue discutiéndole al otro pavo, por muy hábil que fuera su verborrea, me preguntaba a mí mismo por qué seguía leyendo este sinsentido, no sería que Aira me estaba liando también con su hábil verborrea.
Al final la conversación no es tan absurda, y la propia lectura que hacemos funciona en paralelo a la intención del relato. Aun así, me deja frío. Me pasa como con Kafka o Borges, con los que Aira está muy en línea, demasiado conceptual y abstracto, no consigo involucrarme como lo consiguió con su Cecil Taylor.
En lo que no puedo sino darle la razón es en esto que se dice casi al final:
“El atractivo de las conversaciones estaba ahí: en que el otro fuera realmente otro, y su pensamiento fuera impenetrable para el interlocutor.”Que me lo digan a mí.
January 13, 2019
Златна корица и пълна лудница.
Обичам Сесар Айра, защото на никого не робува и докато пише, се забавлява сам вкъщи; защото не знам къде отива, а като пристигнем, не съжалявам, че съм се катерила или пълзяла, или подскачала по начин, неприемлив за възрастта ми (накрая някак е станал и приемлив, и незабравим).
"Разговорите" иска една идея повече внимание, докато се чете, но дозата Айра е гарантирана, а който обича да плете мисли за удоволствие, ще види как го прави един майстор в жанра.
Обичам Сесар Айра, защото на никого не робува и докато пише, се забавлява сам вкъщи; защото не знам къде отива, а като пристигнем, не съжалявам, че съм се катерила или пълзяла, или подскачала по начин, неприемлив за възрастта ми (накрая някак е станал и приемлив, и незабравим).
"Разговорите" иска една идея повече внимание, докато се чете, но дозата Айра е гарантирана, а който обича да плете мисли за удоволствие, ще види как го прави един майстор в жанра.
July 30, 2014
They were not searching for a vein of gold, except as a metaphor. The difference was that they were searching for something that resided in a mind, even if it was also recorded on a piece of paper or as an object.
Conversations excels at pace, at a creeping along, exhaling the languid sighs of the insomniac, sorting through the clues of the day, hoping against all hope to make any sort of sense of it all. Nominally the focus is of a higher state. The protagonist's days are spent in contemplation and philosophical discussion. Parse away the bullshit and it is everyman's sleepless night.
This is my first work by Aira and it is a remarkable effort. It was a masterful stroke to create an invented film to lie at the core of the titular debate.
Conversations excels at pace, at a creeping along, exhaling the languid sighs of the insomniac, sorting through the clues of the day, hoping against all hope to make any sort of sense of it all. Nominally the focus is of a higher state. The protagonist's days are spent in contemplation and philosophical discussion. Parse away the bullshit and it is everyman's sleepless night.
This is my first work by Aira and it is a remarkable effort. It was a masterful stroke to create an invented film to lie at the core of the titular debate.
Read
July 24, 2014Possibly our greatest living sprawling miniaturist, Aira stirs rich helpings of thought and provocation into this compact novel, all while keeping it moving forward like some eddying but relentless stream. Aira both celebrates and pokes fun at the sort of intellectual conversations that eschew "gossip, soccer, health issues, or food" in favor of headier matters, i.e. "history and philosophy." In this case, a single conversation about a single scene in an action movie becomes the pretext for exploring any number of issues, from that of whether reality can be said to have multiple levels to the question of why verisimilitude matters at all. This single Conversation-of-conversations takes several twists and turns, and in spite of a certain timelessness, wherein the work verges on a sort of Platonic dialogue, it winds up addressing our contemporary condition of fragmentation and constant interruption, our harried selves. The internet is never mentioned, but one senses its insistent rhythms and leaps lurking along the edges, along with a Wikipedia-like obsession with minutiae and cultural marginalia. More personally, however, Conversations swept me back to my own seemingly endless conversations (though in retrospect, each came to an end) with friends, while walking or on the phone late at night or slothed out in an armchair, conversations which veered anywhere and everywhere according to a whimsical logic and felt frustratingly inconclusive yet somehow rewarding. At their ends you could always hear the other person's voice, still resounding in your ears and even continuing the dialogue in imagination, as when I play the trumpet I can still feel my lips tingling after setting the instrument down. The book made me more than a little nostalgic for those nights (always, they were nights). Maybe Aira's greatest achievement here is his way of conferring on conversations a quasi-physical form, a status somewhere shy of sculpture but surely well beyond mere sound-wave ephemera. I've lost those conversations with friends, lost some of the friends, but this book makes me think that perhaps they are not lost, only suspended somewhere in time, cast aside by the exigencies of the day, waiting for the right action film or football game or cheese-tasting or chance encounter to re-ignite them back into being.
Other pluses: 1) It fits in your pocket 2) You can read it twice in one night, which is like reliving the conversations which are already being relived in the narrator's mind, so you are acting in the spirit of the book, 3) Did I mention that there are toxic algae and a glowing owl?
Other pluses: 1) It fits in your pocket 2) You can read it twice in one night, which is like reliving the conversations which are already being relived in the narrator's mind, so you are acting in the spirit of the book, 3) Did I mention that there are toxic algae and a glowing owl?
June 15, 2017
No puedo recordar qué fue lo primero que leí de Aira, ah, ya, Los dos payasos y Un episodio en la vida del pintor viajero. Luego siguieron otros, muchos más. Pero, fue con el Congreso de literatura --donde le otorga a Fuentes el Premio Nobel de Literatura, favor que Fuentes le regresa en la Silla del águila--, y principalmente con Cómo me hice monja, que quedé atrapado por la fuerza de la escritura de este autor.
Extrañamente, conozco a pocas personas que lo lean, o que les guste. Vamos, saben quién es, qué ha escrito, pero, no he tenido la fortuna de platicar --fuera de mi padre-- con alguien más sobre su obra.
Esta novela entra de lleno dentro de las que más he disfrutado de él: lo hiperbólico se muestra demasiado bien ceñido a las fronteras de las conversaciones que el narrador y protagonista rememora cada noche antes de dormir, como en un columpio interminable, nuestro héroe, va y viene con lo que recuerda que “conversó”, y se adelanta in situ a lo que recordará en la cama al final del día.
Aira es capaz de elaborar frases tan bellas y a la vez tan profundas como “La pareja se sostenía en equilibrio inestable sobre el frágil hilo de araña con el que la ficción ata la realidad” (p. 67), y es que la novela completa es una discusión al respecto de ficción y realidad, verosimilitud y falsedad, verdad y mentira; entre lo que es posible y lo que no.
Las conversaciones es un pequeño gran abismo al respecto de las convenciones en la literatura, y en el arte en general, en algún momento el narrador destaca que su interlocutor dijo que la película sobre la que discutían le había “gustado”, y no que la consideraba “buena” o algo por el estilo, aduciendo que el gusto no se podría juzgar, pero la apreciación crítica sí. Pero en realidad no.
No deja de asombrarme la capacidad de este escritor para encontrar nuevos ángulos desde donde explorar la literatura. Esquinas cada vez más anguladas, o vértices inusuales de anécdotas banales y en apariencia insignificantes. Como parece no agotarse el caudal de la vista que tiene este autor para observar y replantear lo literario en el mundo o viceversa.
Su humor finísimo, parece tejido con hilos sumamente delgados que exigen del lector mucha atención, no es, al menos para mí, un escritor “fácil” de leer, a pesar de la brevedad en extensión de sus novelas, se pueden disfrutar leerlas con la misma calma que se puede tomar uno en fumarse un buen puro. (Me disculpo por el triste desplazamiento, pero, nada más pisé esta ciudad y el deseo de volver a fumar cigarrillos me carcome cada día, deseo que he paliado con unos increíbles puros veracruzanos que se adaptan a mi bolsillo y que no he tenido la precaución de comprar en los últimos días).
La ventaja de César Aira es que parece que en lo que a uno le toma parpadear, a él le toma escribir una nueva novela, ergo: hay bastante por leer de él, y muy seguramente, seguirá habiendo.
Si todo es ficción… todo es realidad, al final de cuentas.
Extrañamente, conozco a pocas personas que lo lean, o que les guste. Vamos, saben quién es, qué ha escrito, pero, no he tenido la fortuna de platicar --fuera de mi padre-- con alguien más sobre su obra.
Esta novela entra de lleno dentro de las que más he disfrutado de él: lo hiperbólico se muestra demasiado bien ceñido a las fronteras de las conversaciones que el narrador y protagonista rememora cada noche antes de dormir, como en un columpio interminable, nuestro héroe, va y viene con lo que recuerda que “conversó”, y se adelanta in situ a lo que recordará en la cama al final del día.
Aira es capaz de elaborar frases tan bellas y a la vez tan profundas como “La pareja se sostenía en equilibrio inestable sobre el frágil hilo de araña con el que la ficción ata la realidad” (p. 67), y es que la novela completa es una discusión al respecto de ficción y realidad, verosimilitud y falsedad, verdad y mentira; entre lo que es posible y lo que no.
Las conversaciones es un pequeño gran abismo al respecto de las convenciones en la literatura, y en el arte en general, en algún momento el narrador destaca que su interlocutor dijo que la película sobre la que discutían le había “gustado”, y no que la consideraba “buena” o algo por el estilo, aduciendo que el gusto no se podría juzgar, pero la apreciación crítica sí. Pero en realidad no.
No deja de asombrarme la capacidad de este escritor para encontrar nuevos ángulos desde donde explorar la literatura. Esquinas cada vez más anguladas, o vértices inusuales de anécdotas banales y en apariencia insignificantes. Como parece no agotarse el caudal de la vista que tiene este autor para observar y replantear lo literario en el mundo o viceversa.
Su humor finísimo, parece tejido con hilos sumamente delgados que exigen del lector mucha atención, no es, al menos para mí, un escritor “fácil” de leer, a pesar de la brevedad en extensión de sus novelas, se pueden disfrutar leerlas con la misma calma que se puede tomar uno en fumarse un buen puro. (Me disculpo por el triste desplazamiento, pero, nada más pisé esta ciudad y el deseo de volver a fumar cigarrillos me carcome cada día, deseo que he paliado con unos increíbles puros veracruzanos que se adaptan a mi bolsillo y que no he tenido la precaución de comprar en los últimos días).
La ventaja de César Aira es que parece que en lo que a uno le toma parpadear, a él le toma escribir una nueva novela, ergo: hay bastante por leer de él, y muy seguramente, seguirá habiendo.
Si todo es ficción… todo es realidad, al final de cuentas.
April 13, 2014
the tenth work of césar aira's to be translated into english (each published by new directions), conversations (las conversaciones) is another slim novella-length, genre-blending story from the prolific(!) argentine writer. fusing philosophy and film, conversations begins with a lively discourse between two friends about a recently viewed movie and evolves into a debate about verisimilitude and cinematic technique. no aira fiction would be complete, of course, without some amount of seemingly incongruous otherworldliness - in this case, mutant algaes, dehydrating water, and phosphorescent, floating goats. even when he's not at his best, aira's works always exude considerable charm, creativity, and playfulness, and so it is with conversations.
with some 60 books still untranslated, the aira universe still awaits further mapping for english audiences. he was recently shortlisted (with nine other authors, including edward p. jones, chang-rae lee, and haruki murakami) for the prestigious neustadt international prize - a biennial literature award given previously to garcía márquez, paz, tranströmer, djebar, mutis, and others.
*translated from the spanish by katherine silver (castellanos moya, sada, adán, borges, bernal, et al.).
with some 60 books still untranslated, the aira universe still awaits further mapping for english audiences. he was recently shortlisted (with nine other authors, including edward p. jones, chang-rae lee, and haruki murakami) for the prestigious neustadt international prize - a biennial literature award given previously to garcía márquez, paz, tranströmer, djebar, mutis, and others.
stories that are told or written or filmed, whether they belong to the realm of reality or fiction, have to have qualities that makes them worthwhile, because they are neither facts nor natural occurrences. a rock along the side of the road, or a cloud, or a planet does not need to justify itself with its beauty or interest or novelty, but a story does. because stories are gratuitous and have no specific function, other than whiling away the time, they rely on their quality. inventiveness has to be maximized in each instance: each time, a new rabbit has to be pulled out of the hat. one recourse they use is verisimilitude. but not a static and narrow verisimilitude, which reality itself provides, but rather "emergency" verisimilitude, the one that arrives at the last minute, like firefighters with their sirens blaring, coming to the rescue in a dangerous situation.
*translated from the spanish by katherine silver (castellanos moya, sada, adán, borges, bernal, et al.).
March 28, 2023
آمریکای لاتین،همیشه چیزی برای ارائه دارد،ابتدا گمان کردم که کتابی شبیه کتاب الیو ویتورینی یا سقوط کامو باشه
اما به کل جدید و متفاوت بود.ترجمه هم از متن اسپانیول و خوب هست.
اما به کل جدید و متفاوت بود.ترجمه هم از متن اسپانیول و خوب هست.
February 28, 2019
Радвам се на всеки превод на български език на книга на Айра. Тоз�� автор така ме запали, че го чета и на английски и за късмет на български се появяват заглавия, които не притежавам на английски.
Естествено, при неговата продуктивност това не е трудно. Но както сам той отбелязва, неговата цел е да експериментира и тъкмо затова книгите са му по 100-120 страници. Айра просто няма търпение да се впусне в следващото приключение. И са изненада както себе си, така и своите читатели.
Трудно е да се каже какъв е сюжетът в "Разговорите" - двама приятели си говорят за филм, който са гледали и спорят за него. Липсва конвенциално действие. Вероятно на доста читатели книгата ще се стори необичайна.
Под тази форма обаче Айра всъщност се занимава със създаването на изкуство. Независимо дали е литература, кино или някоя друга форма. Той сблъсква различни гледни точки и като истински майстор, не взема страна, а наблюдава отсрани героите си. Защитава техните позиции докрай.
Надявам се да да излизат повече и повече книги от този автор на български. Не искам да пиша едно от онези ревюта, които разкриват човека. Които дават оценки. Айра е автор от моята кръвна група. Точка.
Естествено, при неговата продуктивност това не е трудно. Но както сам той отбелязва, неговата цел е да експериментира и тъкмо затова книгите са му по 100-120 страници. Айра просто няма търпение да се впусне в следващото приключение. И са изненада както себе си, така и своите читатели.
Трудно е да се каже какъв е сюжетът в "Разговорите" - двама приятели си говорят за филм, който са гледали и спорят за него. Липсва конвенциално действие. Вероятно на доста читатели книгата ще се стори необичайна.
Под тази форма обаче Айра всъщност се занимава със създаването на изкуство. Независимо дали е литература, кино или някоя друга форма. Той сблъсква различни гледни точки и като истински майстор, не взема страна, а наблюдава отсрани героите си. Защитава техните позиции докрай.
Надявам се да да излизат повече и повече книги от този автор на български. Не искам да пиша едно от онези ревюта, които разкриват човека. Които дават оценки. Айра е автор от моята кръвна група. Точка.
July 15, 2015
It’s all about
verisimilitude
…or is it?
César Aira’s vignette “Conversations”, takes place in the unnamed narrator’s bed; recollections of conversations are had during his pseudo-somnium-unconscious state at night. Not knowing whether he is sleeping or not, he recounts a specific dialectic one afternoon which starts off with an anachronism in a movie; a Rolex on a goatherd. As he goes further into conversation with his friend, thoughts go between reality vs. fiction, subjective vs. objective, a priori vs. a posteriori, etc. He starts questioning his own thoughts on simple matters and creates an ongoing cognizant fight within himself on absurd matters to the surreal. Definitely interesting and unique. Good stuff.
César Aira’s vignette “Conversations”, takes place in the unnamed narrator’s bed; recollections of conversations are had during his pseudo-somnium-unconscious state at night. Not knowing whether he is sleeping or not, he recounts a specific dialectic one afternoon which starts off with an anachronism in a movie; a Rolex on a goatherd. As he goes further into conversation with his friend, thoughts go between reality vs. fiction, subjective vs. objective, a priori vs. a posteriori, etc. He starts questioning his own thoughts on simple matters and creates an ongoing cognizant fight within himself on absurd matters to the surreal. Definitely interesting and unique. Good stuff.
September 13, 2019
„Фойерверките на моите книги избухват на фона на скучния, меланхоличен живот на впримчен в рутинност дребен буржоа… Усвоявам старите форми и ги саботирам отвътре. И саботажът ми е пълен с обич.“
Сесар Айра, „Закъснелият дадаист“,
интервю за в. „Култура“, 21 юли 2017 г.
Ясно че това от послеслова на преводачката е най-важното за автора, но за по-лесно и аз го копирам вместо отзив, защото действително е така. И защото последната дума прави разликата. Ако беше без това „обич“, Сесар Айра сигурно щеше да ме дразни, да звучи претенциозно това изявление; да си кажа – Абе тоя… какво оригиналничи, или какво се надува… А в „Разговорите“ и още повече в „Мрамор“ го харесвам, одобрявам го; нужен е, наистина е оригинален и свободен. Сега много-много не разбирах, но не се изнервих; не се и смях колкото в „Мрамор“, но обичам такива летящи умници.
„Е, добре, каза, объркването ми се дължало на това, че се ограничавам с една статична идея за правдоподобност. Той щял да ми предложи друга, динамична. Ето: правдоподобността, разглеждана в момента на съзидателния порив, може да бъде и генератор на истории. Това ѝ качество произтича от самия смисъл на нейното съществуване, а именно: да поправя грешки. Все едно дали реални или потенциални. Няма значение, ако не са допуснати и на автора през ум не му е минало, дори за мих, да ги допусне – достатъчно е, че възможността за грешка (или анахронизъм, или гаф) съществува. Авторите на истории, дори и да не знаят, култивират тази възможност, закрилят я, кътат я като свое най-ценно притежание.“
„На пастира не му се спи и излиза. На светлината на едрата украинска месечина тръгва покрай едно странно ручейче, което клокочи между скалите. Козичките му сигурно също ги мъчи безсъница, защото са избягали от кошарата и се реят в нощния въздух, леки като хвърчила, бели и фосфоресциращи. Лесно се забелязват и за момент пастирът се опитва да ги последва в тяхното блуждаене, но те се разпръсват, така че той продължава нагоре по течението на ручейчето…“
„Някой не тъй великодушен като мен или малко по-агресивен можеше да се възрадва на откритието, че приятелят му е глупак. Можеше да се почувства на по-високо стъпало, недосегаем в нарцистичната си „правилност“, по-умен, отколкото сам е допускал, с една дума: победител. Не и аз. Аз се почувствах попарен, притеснен и напът да изгубя нещо ценно. Но това чувство трая няколко секунди, които разделят една реплика от друга в оживен диалог. В леглото, през нощта, се запитах: съществуват ли депресии от по няколко секунди? Явно не ставаше дума за истинска депресия, а за концептуалното ѝ ядро, готово да се разгърне в спомена, така че се помъчих, почти като на игра, да го разгърна и да посъзерцавам с удоволствие. И понеже паметта ми вече знаеше, че всъщност няма причина за депресия, мина в режим „измислица“ – хвърли мост между темата и нейното развитие.“
Тандем Сесар-Нева отново.
Сесар Айра, „Закъснелият дадаист“,
интервю за в. „Култура“, 21 юли 2017 г.
Ясно че това от послеслова на преводачката е най-важното за автора, но за по-лесно и аз го копирам вместо отзив, защото действително е така. И защото последната дума прави разликата. Ако беше без това „обич“, Сесар Айра сигурно щеше да ме дразни, да звучи претенциозно това изявление; да си кажа – Абе тоя… какво оригиналничи, или какво се надува… А в „Разговорите“ и още повече в „Мрамор“ го харесвам, одобрявам го; нужен е, наистина е оригинален и свободен. Сега много-много не разбирах, но не се изнервих; не се и смях колкото в „Мрамор“, но обичам такива летящи умници.
„Е, добре, каза, объркването ми се дължало на това, че се ограничавам с една статична идея за правдоподобност. Той щял да ми предложи друга, динамична. Ето: правдоподобността, разглеждана в момента на съзидателния порив, може да бъде и генератор на истории. Това ѝ качество произтича от самия смисъл на нейното съществуване, а именно: да поправя грешки. Все едно дали реални или потенциални. Няма значение, ако не са допуснати и на автора през ум не му е минало, дори за мих, да ги допусне – достатъчно е, че възможността за грешка (или анахронизъм, или гаф) съществува. Авторите на истории, дори и да не знаят, култивират тази възможност, закрилят я, кътат я като свое най-ценно притежание.“
„На пастира не му се спи и излиза. На светлината на едрата украинска месечина тръгва покрай едно странно ручейче, което клокочи между скалите. Козичките му сигурно също ги мъчи безсъница, защото са избягали от кошарата и се реят в нощния въздух, леки като хвърчила, бели и фосфоресциращи. Лесно се забелязват и за момент пастирът се опитва да ги последва в тяхното блуждаене, но те се разпръсват, така че той продължава нагоре по течението на ручейчето…“
„Някой не тъй великодушен като мен или малко по-агресивен можеше да се възрадва на откритието, че приятелят му е глупак. Можеше да се почувства на по-високо стъпало, недосегаем в нарцистичната си „правилност“, по-умен, отколкото сам е допускал, с една дума: победител. Не и аз. Аз се почувствах попарен, притеснен и напът да изгубя нещо ценно. Но това чувство трая няколко секунди, които разделят една реплика от друга в оживен диалог. В леглото, през нощта, се запитах: съществуват ли депресии от по няколко секунди? Явно не ставаше дума за истинска депресия, а за концептуалното ѝ ядро, готово да се разгърне в спомена, така че се помъчих, почти като на игра, да го разгърна и да посъзерцавам с удоволствие. И понеже паметта ми вече знаеше, че всъщност няма причина за депресия, мина в режим „измислица“ – хвърли мост между темата и нейното развитие.“
Тандем Сесар-Нева отново.
May 7, 2015
The more I read by César Aira, the more I realize that, under a veil of humor, there is a real understanding in his work about the way that people today actually live.
Conversations is about a conversation between two friends about a movie that each has seen only a part of. Then, with the narrator, we have not only the conversation, but the replay of the conversation in his dreams. The subject is a nonsensical action movie set in the Ukraine involving Cossack or Tartar separatists, a mutant strain of killer algae, a plane crash with a set of identical women, one the wife of and the other the mistress of a suspicious character.... Oh, don't take all this too seriously. As Aira tells us:
Conversations is about a conversation between two friends about a movie that each has seen only a part of. Then, with the narrator, we have not only the conversation, but the replay of the conversation in his dreams. The subject is a nonsensical action movie set in the Ukraine involving Cossack or Tartar separatists, a mutant strain of killer algae, a plane crash with a set of identical women, one the wife of and the other the mistress of a suspicious character.... Oh, don't take all this too seriously. As Aira tells us:
According to a well-conceived and well-executed constructivism, seeing half a painting should make it possible to know what the other half contained. And reading half a novel or poem, same thing. Or half a symphony. Or half a movie, right? Though speaking of "halves" could lead one to think of bilateral symmetry, which is not what this was about. It could be any fragment, even a dinosaur's worn-out vertebra.Here we finally have a literary and philosophical justification for channel surfing! He continues farther on:
Adventure was never completely squandered. Its explosions released fragments that, as opposed to all the other objects in the universe, did not obey the laws of gravity; instead, they were like miniature universes, expanding in the mental vacuum, and definitely enriching time.This, like all of Aira's short novels, is like a fragmentation grenade. One thing I can say for sure, they have certainly enriched my time reading them!
August 13, 2023
Абсолютно изтрещял поток от думи е тази книга. Стилът на Сесар Айра е жесток, размислите и анализа на приятелството страшно много ми харесаха, но възстановката на разговорите ми дойде в повече.
Двама приятели, видни интелектуалци обсъждат сюжета на филм, който бегло са гледали по телевизията. Спорят изкусно за анахронизмите в сюжета и доизмислят историята.
“Работата е там, че човекът на културата се намира в диаметрално противоположна позиция, спрямо редовия гражданин, който след ден на прозаични практически занимания включва телевизора в търсене на поне някакво духовно възвисяване. За нас обаче, прекаралите деня си в компанията на Хегел и Достоевски, подобна “култура” е безсмислена и именно заради това или заради вродената и липса на достойнства, ние я намираме за постна и пошла, да не кажем откровено смехотворна.”
Продължавам с “Мрамор”, защото искам да видя какви други преживявания ще ми предложи Айра.
Двама приятели, видни интелектуалци обсъждат сюжета на филм, който бегло са гледали по телевизията. Спорят изкусно за анахронизмите в сюжета и доизмислят историята.
“Работата е там, че човекът на културата се намира в диаметрално противоположна позиция, спрямо редовия гражданин, който след ден на прозаични практически занимания включва телевизора в търсене на поне някакво духовно възвисяване. За нас обаче, прекаралите деня си в компанията на Хегел и Достоевски, подобна “култура” е безсмислена и именно заради това или заради вродената и липса на достойнства, ние я намираме за постна и пошла, да не кажем откровено смехотворна.”
Продължавам с “Мрамор”, защото искам да видя какви други преживявания ще ми предложи Айра.
May 26, 2018
César Aira is certainly above all else an intrepid and versatile writer of highly imaginative prose, and if GHOSTS, the last of his novels I read, was a lyrical and thoughtfully tuned work of metaphor, CONVERSATIONS is something else entirely. Like so much of his fiction, it is a work teeming with and engaged with ideas. It is an unpretentious comedy that goes headlong into the whirlwind of our pretentions. Give an intellectual enough rope and he will hang himself, give him some egg and it will always end up on his face. Like some of the finest, maddest works of his justifiably revered countryman Jorge Luis Borges, it intertwines the dubious delights of popular forms with febrile and prodigious brain-work. Indeed it situates the tremulous imperatives of discursive practice in the arena of twenty-first century chaos; an arena in which our minds and our interchanges have been long-accustomed to "contamination," as our narrator has it, "by movies." This is a truly hilarious little book teasingly in dalliance w/ reason and derangement. It would seem to make the case that only a self-deluded sod would presume to be able to have the former without the latter. When push comes to shove. It is a reflexive work about thinking, interacting, and deducing, wherein these practices are looked down upon by their practitioner as if from a fraught remove. Our narrator lives not only for his conversations but lives to relive them, a nighttime connoisseur of his daytime colloquia, as a writer having a third-time's-the-charm go. The hilarity comes primarily from locating intellectual rigor within the confusion and dissonance of an increasingly erratic life-world. When we are two people talking we are never quite on the same page, hell, the self not even properly lining up with itself. CONVERSATIONS is like a thesis flowering into a monster, and the monster is an impressive one, a monster of the brain, a disordering entropic monster, the proof in the pudding. César Aira provokes impressed out-loud laughter with the extent and dexterity of his rendered brain activity. It is a book in which analysis is pratfall and will speak to comic-minded students of deconstruction. It were as though a loose thread were being tugged at and then protractedly pulled upon, unwinding and unwinding until the whole damn world is standing there naked. Deeply rewarding philosophical mischief. A real hoot. An absolute gas.
January 10, 2022
بیشتر به مقاله-بیانیهای نگریک و فلسفی میمانست تا رمان؛ نچسبید.
البته از حق نگذریم ایدههای فلسفی جالبی را در متن گنجانده بود. با این حال ترجیح میدهم با این ایدهها نه در رمان، که در ظرف مخصوص به خودش آشنا شوم.
البته از حق نگذریم ایدههای فلسفی جالبی را در متن گنجانده بود. با این حال ترجیح میدهم با این ایدهها نه در رمان، که در ظرف مخصوص به خودش آشنا شوم.
August 15, 2021
I might sound like a complete idiot to say this but om not completely sure what the book was about but I did enjoy it. It was very diffrent from what I've read so far. Only one author comes to mind as a bit similar. Normally I would complain that 100 ebook pages wasn't enough but for this ebook it was the perfect length. Will read more by Cesar Aira for sure as his works are very intruiging for me
September 6, 2023
любим шантавел ❤️
Read
March 29, 2015This is one of the most intellectually satisfying books I've read in a while: it depicts a conversation (that goes through numerous digressions) between two friends that are in the habit of analyzing everything. In this case it's an action movie (a hilarious parody of a Hollywood thriller), which is taken to pieces and put back again. The effect is both highly sophisticated and hilarious (the narrator's irony is directed not only at the movie, but at the two friends themselves). It is a self-ironic homage to intellectual analysis.
June 10, 2016
The Book of the Movie
My title, of course, is facetious, for there is no movie made of Aira's book. But its entire 88 pages consist of a conversation remembered by the sleepless author between him and an intellectual friend about some unnamed movie that they had both watched in snatches on television the night before. It begins by Aira observing that the Hollywood actor playing an impoverished Ukrainian goatherd is seen wearing a Rolex watch. The conversation—or at least the conversation as replayed and reshaped by the insomniac author—soon passes over the obvious explanations, such as an omission on the part of the continuity person, and becomes philosophical and aesthetic:
My title, of course, is facetious, for there is no movie made of Aira's book. But its entire 88 pages consist of a conversation remembered by the sleepless author between him and an intellectual friend about some unnamed movie that they had both watched in snatches on television the night before. It begins by Aira observing that the Hollywood actor playing an impoverished Ukrainian goatherd is seen wearing a Rolex watch. The conversation—or at least the conversation as replayed and reshaped by the insomniac author—soon passes over the obvious explanations, such as an omission on the part of the continuity person, and becomes philosophical and aesthetic:
Hence, he continued, my error consisted of me having limited myself to a static concept of verisimilitude. He proposed a different, more dynamic one. According to this concept, and seen within the movement of creation, verisimilitude could be, and was, a generator of stories. […] If the goatherd in the story had a Rolex, and we had posited that the "error" had been committed, it had to be fixed, that is, made verismilar. The story's interest and novelty would emerge from such an operation. Only then would the story be rendered worthwhile. Without the "error," things narrowed considerably. Who would be interested in the coherent life of a goatherd? Or of a coherent tycoon with a big gold watch? The interest arose, a priori, from their coexistence. [trans. Katherine Silver]Somewhat to my surprise, by choosing a passage to illustrate the texture of the book and transcribing it, I begin finally to get some sense of what is being said. But it is by no means that easy when actually reading, and the philosophical juggling tricks put me into a state of dizziness pretty much throughout. Fortunately, from the one previous Aira novella that I have read, An Episode in the Life of a Landscape Painter, I was aware of his interest in questioning the roles of reality and fiction—and his practice of writing himself into holes just to see if he can get out of them. But that book was tied to the life of a real person in a real place; this, by contrast, is abstract and speculative, building postulate upon postulate in a tottering tower of absurdity. It all comes crashing down at the end in a wild parody of a Hollywood blockbuster (with a curious foreshadowing of the movie Argo, which did not come out until five years later). Here, and only here, could I make any sense of the Paris Review endorsement on the cover: "A wildly funny novel." But it was a long haul to get there.
July 17, 2014
Frames inside of frames. A typical Airan story, which is to say, lovely and perfectly subtle with its humor and absurdity.
August 26, 2016
Cesar Aira has so much fun messing with his readers, but I fall for it every time. Here he starts us off with an erudite gentleman who enjoys ruminating over his recent chats with his various highbrow friends, so naturally we think we are in for something sophisticated and trenchant. He recalls one such conversation in which he pokes a little fun at a mistake in some crappy Hollywood film, where a peasant is caught with a Rolex on his wrist. How ridiculous, but these things happen. Our intellectual narrator is ready to move on to loftier topics, but his friend stops him and says, "what are you talking about? I saw that film and that was no mistake!" The next thing you know, Aira flings us all down one rabbit hole after another as our protagonist's greatest fear may come true, that in fact his friends might turn out to be utter morons, in which case might not he be as well?
Someone less generous or more aggressive might have been pleased to discover that a friend of his was stupid. It would make him feel superior, safe in his narcissistic integrity, more intelligent than he thought: in a word, the winner. This was not the case for me. I felt depressed and distressed, like someone on the verge of losing something of great value.
As a famous American football coach (Jim Mora) once said, "you think you know, but you don't know, and you never will", and that is never more true than when reading Cesar Aira, from one page to the next.
Someone less generous or more aggressive might have been pleased to discover that a friend of his was stupid. It would make him feel superior, safe in his narcissistic integrity, more intelligent than he thought: in a word, the winner. This was not the case for me. I felt depressed and distressed, like someone on the verge of losing something of great value.
As a famous American football coach (Jim Mora) once said, "you think you know, but you don't know, and you never will", and that is never more true than when reading Cesar Aira, from one page to the next.
December 23, 2017
I would *never* be able to stomach a story centered around the dialectical acrobatics of two “cultured” men — unless it was written by César Aira. This is my fourth novella by him, and I can definitively say, I will happily throw myself down whatever absurdist rabbit hole he digs. While it’s easy to get bogged down by all the tangled syllogisms and labored digressions our main interlocutors love so much, Aira ensures your mental energy is well worth it with an ending that begs an immediate re-read.
July 25, 2016
Perhaps the most straightforward of any Aira I've read so far - but by no means does that imply it's simple or easy or lacking in the strange wonder that characterises his work. The late night remembrance of a conversation has never been so captivating and I think one of the great successes of this book is the way that the whole thing feels like, well, what it's like to sit up late at night, unable to sleep, and to reflect back on something you'd talked about earlier in the day. Not only are you working your memory but inevitably you're thinking about other things too - and they're all somehow related in the great swirl of your brain. It's just that César Aira knows how to deposit the swirl of his brain onto the page in a captivating fashion - whereas most of the rest of us are just lucky to be along for the ride.
For more, visit: http://ragingbiblioholism.com/2016/07... and http://thenextbestbookblog.blogspot.c...
For more, visit: http://ragingbiblioholism.com/2016/07... and http://thenextbestbookblog.blogspot.c...
June 20, 2014
Perhaps the best so far of the translated novellas by Aira. In this latest improvisation, a narrator recounts his discussion with a friend of an action film each had seen in his own apartment, but only in fragments, an action film taking place in the mountains of the Ukraine, involving the CIA, a goatherd, one "Señorita Wild Savage," and a plot to take over the world via toxic algae. What sets the conversation in motion is the narrator's complaint that an isolated goatherd in the mountains of the Ukraine would never own the Rolex watch the actor was wearing that continuity apparently missed during the filming. The narrator's friend, however, tells him that the appearance of the Rolex was perfectly plausible, and thus the absurd discussion begins.
May 21, 2018
This book spins on the most amazing, absurd premise that I've ever seen in a novel: two guys arguing about a movie that they watched on TV the night before. Neither saw the entire movie, and both were distracted during the parts they did see, and one guy's throwaway joke about a silly anachronism - i.e., a poor goatherd in the remote Ukrainian mountains wearing a Rolex - triggers a grand, wide-ranging debate about the nature of reality that's canny, insightful and hilarious. I really did laugh out loud a half dozen times.
A truly unexpected pleasure. I want to read more from this author!
A truly unexpected pleasure. I want to read more from this author!
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September 8, 2014In Katherine Silver's winning translation, Aira's miniaturized philosophical meditation on the nature of fiction, perception, and reality somehow codifies or integrates together his preoccupations in his other books. It is a unified theory of fictional memory that he brings afresh here and that subsumes his general ideas on the continuum, improvisation, spontaneity, and (dare I say) world domination.
full review: http://booktrek.blogspot.com/2014/09/...
full review: http://booktrek.blogspot.com/2014/09/...
May 3, 2015
I am a huge fan of Aira's work. This little book gave me so much to think about and coincides with what I am learning in my literary theory class. There is something very Kafkasque about Aira and I would not suggest reading him unless you like Kafka's work. Anyways, love this little book and I will be reading it again soon.
May 20, 2019
"Фойерверките на моите книги избухват на фона на скучния, меланхоличен живот на впримчен в рутинност дребен буржоа... Усвоявам старите форми и ги саботирам отвътре. И саботажът ми е пълен с обич."
Сесар Айра, "Закъснелият дадаист", интервю за в. "Култура", 21 юли 2017 г.
"Както и по "Мрамор", предишната книга на български на Айра, заклет почитател на кафенетата и ненадейните отвличания на вниманието за сметка на тежкото кабинетно съсредоточаване, работих по този роман в разнообразен декор. Освен в Преводаческия колегиум в германското градче Щрален и стаята ми с изглед към облаците над отсрещната софийска "Младост", текстът се дооформи на български в едно кафене в Рейкявик, на дивана на Неус в Барселона и на чардака на Ана в село Очуша.
Нева Мичева, 25 октомври 2018 г.
(Началото и краят на послеслова от преводачката)
Сесар Айра, "Закъснелият дадаист", интервю за в. "Култура", 21 юли 2017 г.
"Както и по "Мрамор", предишната книга на български на Айра, заклет почитател на кафенетата и ненадейните отвличания на вниманието за сметка на тежкото кабинетно съсредоточаване, работих по този роман в разнообразен декор. Освен в Преводаческия колегиум в германското градче Щрален и стаята ми с изглед към облаците над отсрещната софийска "Младост", текстът се дооформи на български в едно кафене в Рейкявик, на дивана на Неус в Барселона и на чардака на Ана в село Очуша.
Нева Мичева, 25 октомври 2018 г.
(Началото и краят на послеслова от преводачката)
April 23, 2016
If you're hungry you eat. If you're alone, you find someone to talk to. This is the rationale Clarins took as he looked about at the doileys and leches he saw as he gazed about the restaurant. His eyes come to a halt at a time-honoured man who seems captivated in his meal, seemingly lost in his own world. A perfect mix of oddity and complacency.
He's inquisitive by nature and proceeds to venture into the mystery that the man eludes fully intending to converse and exorcise the mannerisms of the man we come to know is a widower named Loos.
The two could possibly be polar opposites as he glimpses into the world through Loos' vantage point which dares to proclaim certain misgivings and criticisms that Clarins has.
But in these drawn out conversations you will revel and see your head nodding in agreement at times with the older gentleman and at times with the easy come easy go nature of the younger one. Loos is certainly a character you won't forget for a while.
The back and forth exchange of opinions and experiences between these two odd protagonists on the surface seem almost stressed with Clarins being so forward but what transpires is a vividly comforting and familiar communique. There's wisdom, there's humour albeit askew within their conversation. I'm surprised many haven't read it for it's a quaint little book actually.
Even in the most different of people, you will find that common denominator we all seek in individuals and some surprising coincidences which made me wonder at least that there's a reason we all meet those whom we do in life.
He's inquisitive by nature and proceeds to venture into the mystery that the man eludes fully intending to converse and exorcise the mannerisms of the man we come to know is a widower named Loos.
The two could possibly be polar opposites as he glimpses into the world through Loos' vantage point which dares to proclaim certain misgivings and criticisms that Clarins has.
But in these drawn out conversations you will revel and see your head nodding in agreement at times with the older gentleman and at times with the easy come easy go nature of the younger one. Loos is certainly a character you won't forget for a while.
The back and forth exchange of opinions and experiences between these two odd protagonists on the surface seem almost stressed with Clarins being so forward but what transpires is a vividly comforting and familiar communique. There's wisdom, there's humour albeit askew within their conversation. I'm surprised many haven't read it for it's a quaint little book actually.
Even in the most different of people, you will find that common denominator we all seek in individuals and some surprising coincidences which made me wonder at least that there's a reason we all meet those whom we do in life.
August 15, 2018
I love César Aira's novellas. They always just manage to stay on the sane side of the batshit-crazy border. Here Aira sees how far he can push the postmodern perspective - the book is about a man recurring a conversation between him and a friend talking about a movie that is about filming a movie in remote Ukraine. There are also philosophical commandos and an algae with the potential to save the world from dehydrated water. Yep. That about covers it.
Please please keep writing César.
Please please keep writing César.
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