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"Deep Sleep" by Banana Yoshimoto

After my pleasant experience with Murakami has piqued my curiosity with Japanese literature and I have begun to explore a bit while I recognize that a certain shyness.
is why I have opted for Banana Yoshimoto, an author also very accessible to Western eyes and, in some cases, it has been defined as a woman Murakami (but Murakami is best known for his novels and stories by Yoshimoto) .
Although announced with "Kitchen" I preferred to start with "Deep Sleep", an anthology of short stories that are read in one breath and I have been very dissappointed.
Indeed, similarities with Murakami are notable both for the style simple and easy to read but with a somewhat reminiscent it only as sadness and depth of their stories. However, it may seem difficult, the Japanese get more sensitive than her male colleague, or at least, has left me that feeling.
"Deep Sleep" contains three stories: the book's title, "The night commuters" and "an experience." The first and last are fantastic and the realistic environment but these labels are not very useful because in this case, what matters is not that gender uses Yoshimoto but it is exactly what we are telling.
And in all three cases we speak of loneliness and death, loss and sadness involved and how to address the weakness inherent to being human. However, as with Murakami not tragic or pessimistic stories rather leave an aftertaste of tenderness and humanity which, though apparently its protagonists are alone, there really is a warm human brotherhood around him that allows them to get ahead how hard it is their experience.
"night travelers" tells how to deal with the death of a loved one (brother of one of the characters and boyfriend of another), and, again, although his approach is realistic, it is true that the story is permeated by an aura of unreality about it to fantasy, if not in substance if the tone.
"Deep Sleep" is the original, while recognizing that Yoshimoto is lavished in terms of innovation, is also the painful loss of a loved one but fascinated by seemingly minor details that, eventually, end up becoming the real axis of history, that deep sleep that first title late practiced as a peculiar profession and then affects their friends no longer as powerful as an illuminating metaphor for how to deal with the crossroads of our lives and friendship as can help beyond death.
"An Experience" is the most fantastic of the three and the most terrifying story of alcoholism and sleep but in which stands a seance really disturbing and puts Yoshimoto as a business devoted to more traditional sources of Terror.
In short, an enjoyable read that I highly recommend and encourage you to read on this author. And that despite the nickname you have chosen that, at least in English, it does sound like a joke ... both

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José Saramago (1922-2010)

the death of a writer, especially a great writer, is frequent talk of many things connected with him but not literature. Reactions, his life, the details of his demise ... all this is scanned in live by the pen of the day but a comment rested from the work he leaves behind, it is often conspicuous by their absence. José Saramago
would not be an exception. Since its Iberianism, its relationship with Portugal, his country, to his home in Lanzarote, the Nobel Prize, the affection of his readers (of which I attest, one of the oldest entries are answered in this blog was my negative comment on "Intermittently death), her marriage to a English Communist militancy, his childhood poverty and need, its late addition to the literature, the suddenness of his death (despite his age) or the unfortunate statement from the Holy See (What happened to the subtlety of Vatican diplomacy! another myth crumbles .) In short, everything that has been said and a lot of press but, again, their books, Justito and little else. As much a bit of emphasis on the rarity of its success being an author who has a very special style, baroque, poetic and somewhat avant-garde. Unfortunately
do not feel qualified to make that effort I've been missing elsewhere, and I will not do an elaborate critique of the work of Saramago. But I would like to remember one thing: Portuguese was an author who carefully cultivated, intensity and repeated the fantasy genre. Something that, in my humble opinion, has not been reported enough. Saramago practiced so diffuse that has been called magical realism, but also the purest Fantastic literary, political fiction, the biblical and even something like science fiction.
In that sense it is, probably, and died after Ballard and Lem, the closest thing to an author of our tastes that the Nobel Academy may come to recognize. Therefore, it is worth remembering, and not try to be exhaustive, titles like the aforementioned "death Intermittently" but also, "The Stone Raft," "The Gospel According to Jesus," "Blindness" (perhaps his most recognized), "The Cave", "The man doubled," Essay on the lucidity " "Cain" or some of their stories.
The fact that critics and the public would accept without question these titles are probably the best example of how far the normalization of fantastic literature, especially science fiction, has become, and despite the redundancy in normal . While probably protest this input (which I'm pretty regular) start to stop making sense. Currently writing about a world where everyone becomes blind but a few and how that Revelation reflects our human condition is no longer science fiction, but a social critique worthy of a Nobel. Ah, if Wyndham lift his head!

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course we did not win for frights and absurd. Let me explain. I think I mentioned once that work in a secondary school as a teacher. A place where reading is something remote, distant and irrelevant. As one friend now deceased, and to summarize a bit, many profs as missionaries we are Zulus.
My fellow struggling language arts daily with this panda irreducible to the delights of reading, and try to lure them in a thousand and one way to deceive, usually unsuccessful.
time ago that no one suggests that reading the classics (at least in the ESO), perhaps not entirely bad idea. The trouble is that, in turn, dominates the dictatorship of the Youth Literature "values", so dear to publishers and ministries and so poor in performance.
Some of the works to be read (so to speak) the kids in my school I have reviewed in this blog, fantasy-themed obviously, that some have been, though they are far from the majority. And that is something that, frankly, I understand ever, why is there a type of reader, and I believe that most common in adolescence than in maturity, passion for the weird, the weird, the adventurer, the terrifying and even bizarre. All this land of fantasy and that, surely, could serve as bait for that coveted El Dorado, the habit of reading, is at last found at these ages. And if not, let's look at JK Rowling and her Harry Potter saga, or, as in my time, the success of Michael Ende or Tolkien himself. Well
odd, fantastic, as always, is more of a journal that has crept into the party for a guest with all of the law.
And to change that, does not help anyone starting with the parents, other blessed creatures. And after this prologue explaining step by detailing the case. This year one of the books to read (or suffer, as the case) was "Session Spiritualism" by Carlos Puerto. I have not had the pleasure of reading the novella, but I think it's a fantastic book "false", a little style Gisbert ("The Venetian mirrors," "Something awakens in secret"), based on a theoretical premise tells a fantastic rather realistic story in which fantasy is fully explained. Although it does not rule out the surprise ending with a touch that some ambiguity to the story.
In any case, although this is not a sub-genre that awakens my enthusiasm, I can not stop watching this little work with some sympathy, it is possible to be truly effective in awakening the reader bug between our beasts.
Until the parent of the beast of the day saw the book and said his children "that" do not read it, it was dangerous, a mess, and anti-religious and potato patatin. And the child does not read the book, and peace here and then glory. Such a huge
closed head which Iranian jail is tricky at this stage of the game. It is a minority position but someone still go out there at the mention crossing a word spiritualism or anything that smacks of Terror I find worthy of other times and latitudes. No, Spain 2010, here and now.
course, the stupidity of the parents of the boy is total if we consider that other years the little angel had to read things like "City of the Beasts" by Isabel Allende or "High Risk" by Nick Manns, the latter a true ghost story with a couple of little scenes quite successful for a book of the kind that we speak (somewhat cutrelux youth literature). Of course, the author or publisher, older dogs are sniffing the bigoted minds similar problems and settle the issue by putting bland and generic titles fool getting certain characters, who judge books by their titles alone, probably why they are unable to go beyond the cover in its sights readers.
In short, amusing if it were not for what, at bottom, is worthwhile. Just do not suffer much by the student reading the book usually means 10-20% of a quarter note, so unless a dunce (which equal each other), do not read a non-dangerous material leads to the automatic suspension. And so we will, of course.

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Seeing is Believing "The Ladies of Grace Adieu" by Susanna Clarke

has come recently commented on one of my old reviews. Happens sometimes, you just wrote does not seem to interest anyone and a few years ago called the attention of a visitor who passed by, that's life and not worth thinking a lot about the subject.
The fact is that the ineffable anonymous turn back and put half my enthusiastic appreciation for "Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell" by Susanna Clarke. An interesting bath humility, one can say that a particular book is a masterpiece but someone will always remember you for it is a pain unbearable. Fortunately I have an ego
bombproof and I am not frighten by critics outside like that. After a brief reflection, I shook my head and sighed. "Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell" is a masterpiece, no matter who though, which does not mean you have to like everybody. After all, Tolkien hated Shakespeare ....
admit that when I read the great work of Clarke if there was one thing that bothered me somewhat. A book so enormous, enormous and complex could be a single outbreak? Did not have bottomless this author to your career? "The bar was not set too high? The same thoughts
assaulted me when I started reading "The Ladies of Grace Adieu," the next work of Britain to reach the English market. Well, after a reading frenzy I could breathe a sigh of relief. Clarke was at least as good a storyteller as a novelist and the flame that had scorched his great novel burning just as much in their stories.
Tales, yes, set in the same universe of his opus magnum and even have some appearance of old known as the Duke of Wellington, King Raven and Jonathan Strange. We therefore once again, to the spurious cross between Jane Austen and Neil Gaiman has been the delight of many, this fascinating hybrid between fairyland and early nineteenth-century England. And, of course, Clarke gets an unexpected artifact as work with the gracefulness of a ballet dancer.
Stories like the title of the book, "The Mrs. Mabb "," Mr. Simonelli or widower duende "or" Tom Brigtwind or how the bridge was built Thoresby magic "have the same virtues as its big brother" Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell ", and even end up being more affordable and pleasant to not having an overwhelming presence.
Of course, Clarke introduced a new record in his work, I mean stories written in the style of traditional fairy tales, where the reference points both Jean Austen would not like the brothers Grimm, folklore and anthropology rather than nineteenth-century English history. This section would stand stories like "In Lickerish Mount, "" The Duke of Wellington lost the horse, "Antickets and Frets" and "John Uskglass and saithe in Cumbria." And though they are well written and not without its charm, in my humble opinion are somewhat far from the achievements of his other stories. Are interesting but not stunning, pleasant but not exciting, a path not as fruitful as the rest of his work.
Despite their variety, we must recognize that these stories share a series of common ideas. On the one hand are very feminine and even feminist (especially "The Ladies of Grace Adieu"). Stories in which women are the protagonists (sometimes players only) and where these are demonstrated superior to men (in a society as sexist as the nineteenth century) are common in this volume. In a way, a kind of compensation to the very masculine "Jonatahn Strange and Mr Norrell", where women seem to take the role of victims to save and little else. Something that once drew my attention taking into account the sex of the author and the long tradition of female witchcraft is in fantastic literature. Now
heroines can be as clever or more than men and witches so terrible and cruel as the Raven King himself, a change from the more refreshing and enjoyable. Finally there
an issue that I think Clarke is a true masterpiece: the transitions from the kind cotidianedad the utmost cruelty. We started reading one of his stories and the atmosphere pleasant, almost bucolic, and deliciously English permeates the work, then, little by little, things are changing, imperceptibly, and when we want to account for the savagery and pain make an appearance with devastating force. It is in this contrast between the two worlds, civilization and barbarism, the England of the Napoleonic era and the fairyland, science and magic, where Clarke's writing has more strength, which shows all its power and effectiveness demonstrate when the two sides of the same coin: the man and the elf.
Of all the tales are a few that deserve a little more detail. "The Ladies of Grace Adieu" is that it has been more enjoyable round. Not only because of its subtlety, good work and terrible feminist message if not why, in the end, Jonathan Strange himself meet with some opposition to it is better to withdraw.
"Mrs. Mabb" has a say about Carroll imagination and poor inceible milk and makes it very clear that that in love and war anything goes.
"Mr. Simonelli or widower duende" reminded me a lot like "Wuthering Heights" by Bronte, by setting and the demonic nature of the elf-like character as Heatcliff of the Yorkshire moors. It is probably the most romantic work of Clarke in the literary sense of the word.
Finally, I can not fail to mention "Tom Brigtwind or how the bridge was built Thoresby magical, a real gem of a humorous and exuberant imagination unleashed. The one I have remembered his famous novel.
I can think of a single but the dazzling magic of Susanna Clarke is there life beyond Jonathan Strange? Will it be able to create a work so exciting but set in another universe, different, in short?
Time will tell, I personally know that I will enjoy trying to answer this question with the next book to appear in our language.

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Ah! Prejudices .... That bad reputation has, rightly, of course. Since we warn against them and as we strive to avoid them. And obviously failing.
No one is free from bias, though I try, and this weakness always plays tricks. In my case, as I have said many times in this blog, my great prejudice is against UFO-esoteric world. It is to see the bug and get the nerves, rot, disease and goats.
Everything is explained and, as in so many things the explanation lies in childhood. As I also mentioned more than once, I grew up my compulsive reading phase of such booklets, especially those in the UFO subject, very popular in my youth. Little by little I was aware of hoax representing those books and left to read. I remember the change took place on the border between the college and high school (13-14 years) and caused an infamous tome speculated that Stonehenge was a secret UFO base. Bearing in mind that I knew that something about the prehistory, such was the explosive calving end of my relationship with the Bears Jiménez, JJ Benitez and company.
Of course, I felt pretty angry, so pissed that I still tough. Why? Why nobody likes to be fooled, ripped off or scammed, and what I think is outrageous that this be done with a child, the world's most gullible creatures. In fact, the concept fool a child has a tremendous notoriety, today's rogues would not hesitate to raise his pension to a little old lady would be unable to play the innocent credulity of a youngster of 6 years old.
And UFO-esoteric writers engaged in this, to deceive tender infants. It's funny, but children learn very quickly the difference between fiction and reality. I can not say but that distinction ages learn do it in a very early period of his life. I've seen it with my nephews who are in full swing, and watch them allowed me to recall some processes of my own childhood. At some point, one learns to distinguish between Spiderman and Newton, among the laws of gravity and Middle Earth. We know that the adventures of Star Wars are real in our imagination but not in reality and we know that the intricacies of the theory of relativity are as real in our minds and the world beyond our brains.
However, as children we are still naive and we know that deception is there, waiting to bite as unwary. What terrible UFO-esoteric books is not presented as fiction but as fact. Now, as adults, we know that's part of his deception but, as children, find it hard to differentiate this level of infamy. If not a novel (and not presented as such) is real, authentic, real.
When I discovered that I was kidding my anger was monumental and even today, still, dull and semi-forgotten, but it's there, present, dormant, but present.
And sometimes that will prejudice the plays. In my childhood days one of the most notorious UFO cases in our country was the subject Ummo, if anyone is curious can track online and draw their own conclusions. I, on the tadpole stage, I was fascinated by those pictures of silver discs with a strange logo on the belly. Then, as so often in this mudillo, the bubble deflated, Ummo passing away and a few years ago, the creators of fraud confessed it was all staged. The usual.
Yes, the pro ufologists still in their heels, one year ago I discovered something of a Carrefour a booklet explaining the ineffable as Ummo JJ Benítez was real as life itself, yes it was partly fraud but there was another part real, that if men in black, that if government plots to discredit, etc, etc. Nothing new under the sun. That
Ummo had been there in my subconscious I discovered it in 2004. That year he published "Umma" by Juan Antonio Fernández Madrigal. From that his name did not say anything (not yet discovered his stories), was a young author, like so many that appear every year. Like any good geek I like to keep up with what is written in the country cf but time and money are an obstacle fucked for that purpose. So you have to do a screen, especially when we are facing a new author, with a leap of faith. And in the case of Madrigal decided to pass. The reason? In my brain, "Umma" became Ummo, and automatically classify the book as it was not: as a further attempt ufologists to deceive timarnos pull our hair, so I went and got the leg to the hock, why now that I've read some of the work of Madrigal burn with desire to face the first brick of the building complex and exciting than is the saga of Vipers of Forms.
It's funny how the head works for us. Umma is also the community of believers to Islam, and one of the first Mesopotamian cities (although it appears as UNMA). In fact, the latter meaning is used as a reference to Madrigal. I, as a degree in history, should have been able to see these connections. For odd, my brain went by peteneras and chose to focus on those dark 70's UFO story. You have to fuck.
But like many things, there is an ill wind that blows no good. "Umma", though written first, is really the third volume in the series, which, by twist of fate, I'm reading in the correct chronological order, so when one of these days I dive into "Umma" I will have completed, so far, the journey of humanity that has been designed Madrigal. So perhaps my subconscious (which is much smarter than me), knew what he was doing ...