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spenkevich's review against another edition
4.0
‘It all happened because of Elvis Presley.'
Death often strikes suddenly and unexpectedly, like a flash of lightning piercing even the most common of events and leaving behind a hemorrhaging corpse where once stood living, breathing flesh. Javier Marías’ petite novella Bad Nature, or With Elvis in Mexico is a wildly comedic investigation into how a drunken good time came quickly lead to disaster and life on the run. Marías’ gift of perception and alluringly poetic philosophical musings are expertly packed into this 57pg story surrounding a what-if scenario of the Elvis film Fun in Acapulco, combining the humorously absurd with the bluntness of mortality to deliver a satisfying plunge into Mexico’s murky underworld of ‘whitewashed gangsters’. Marías’ common motifs and themes are all condensed and sharpened to cut like a razorblade in this reflection on death and the predicaments of translation.
Bad Nature features a 55 year old Ruibérriz de Torres, whom fans of [b:Tomorrow in the Battle Think on Me|1292760|Tomorrow in the Battle Think on Me|Javier Marías|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1347231981l/1292760._SY75_.jpg|1281855] will recognize, as he recounts his youthful adventures in with Elvis during the filming of Fun in Acapulco. While history insists that Elvis never left the United States and that only a small camera crew crossed the Mexican border to film a few background shots to be added in, this story takes on the possibility that Elvis had in fact gone to Mexico but a certain disastrous occasion forced him to leave and expunge any evidence of his journey. Ruibérriz serves as a translator for his idol, paid to instruct towards correct pronunciation since Elvis must sing Guadalajara in Spanish for the film. Language barriers become a critical component to the novella, initially shown as having comical implications. 'he thought it was hilarious when I told him what Tupelo means in Spanish if you divide the first two syllables (“your hair,” he repeated, laughing uproariously) especially since it sounds so much like toupee.' Much of the humor surrounds puns and comedic phrasings, making language the focus of this story.
Translation and language are an important aspect of any Marías novel, the author being on of Spain’s leading translators from English. He is careful to explore the implications of any switch in dialogue between the tu and usted form, and has a repertoire of clever methods to ensure certain language-specific jokes won’t be ground away in by the gears of translation.
A similar idea is explored in [b:Tomorrow in the Battle Think on Me|1292760|Tomorrow in the Battle Think on Me|Javier Marías|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1347231981l/1292760._SY75_.jpg|1281855], that ‘once a story has been told, it’s anyone’s, it becomes common currency, it gets twisted and distorted, and we all tell our own version.’ Although it is Elvis’ insult that Ruibérriz delivers, it must inevitably become his as well since he is twisting and reshaping it through languages, unable to avoid putting his own interpretation on the words and thereby making them essentially his own. It is key then that Marías should write from the first-person perspective, to use the voice of the teller, as it is the telling of the story that trumps the story itself. Which makes the translations of his work into English, in this case by Ether Allen (Borges, Flaubert) instead of the usual Margaret Jull Costas (Saramago, Pessoa), an impressive task. Allen does well by leaving the speech of the ‘whitewashed gangsters in Spanish, allowing the reader the catharsis of language gaps and to remain at the mercy of Ruibérriz’s translations to understand what is said (well, for a reader who doesn’t speak Spanish or isn’t inclined to use an online translator.)
This novella has an incredible circular feel to it, beginning and ending on the same sentiments that ‘No one knows what it is to be hunted down without having lived it,’ Described through his signature manner of digressions and philosophical wit, bookending the novella with the sound of ‘venomous footsteps, setting off with all hatred to destroy me,’ brilliantly seals the story while leaving the reader with a feel that this isolated incident incited a lifelong feeling of escape. The narrator has looked death in the face and ran headlong into the maelstrom of life, knowing that death is always seeking him out.
Javier Marías is an incredible writer and it is stunning to see how well he boils down his major themes into this slim novella without sacrificing any of the punch. Both wildly comedic and stoically ponderous, Bad Nature is a fantastic story that would make an excellent introduction to this fabulous author as well as a quick dive back into his world for those already familiar with him. It is especially entertaining for those who have also read [b:Tomorrow in the Battle Think on Me|1292760|Tomorrow in the Battle Think on Me|Javier Marías|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1347231981l/1292760._SY75_.jpg|1281855], or [b:The Infatuations|13618374|The Infatuations|Javier Marías|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1342032539l/13618374._SY75_.jpg|15943400] (which alludes to the Elvis incident here) and are already familiar with the loveable scoundrel Ruibérriz de Torres. Bad Nature, or With Elvis in Mexico is a short, fantastic book that is sure to delight.
4/5
‘[A] pick is killing him that has been waiting, thrown down in a backyard, for a thousand years, a pick to split open the grassy soil and dig an improvised grave, a pick that may never have tasted blood before, the blood that still smells more like fish and is still wet and welling out and staining the wind that is rushing away from the storm.’
Death often strikes suddenly and unexpectedly, like a flash of lightning piercing even the most common of events and leaving behind a hemorrhaging corpse where once stood living, breathing flesh. Javier Marías’ petite novella Bad Nature, or With Elvis in Mexico is a wildly comedic investigation into how a drunken good time came quickly lead to disaster and life on the run. Marías’ gift of perception and alluringly poetic philosophical musings are expertly packed into this 57pg story surrounding a what-if scenario of the Elvis film Fun in Acapulco, combining the humorously absurd with the bluntness of mortality to deliver a satisfying plunge into Mexico’s murky underworld of ‘whitewashed gangsters’. Marías’ common motifs and themes are all condensed and sharpened to cut like a razorblade in this reflection on death and the predicaments of translation.
Bad Nature features a 55 year old Ruibérriz de Torres, whom fans of [b:Tomorrow in the Battle Think on Me|1292760|Tomorrow in the Battle Think on Me|Javier Marías|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1347231981l/1292760._SY75_.jpg|1281855] will recognize, as he recounts his youthful adventures in with Elvis during the filming of Fun in Acapulco. While history insists that Elvis never left the United States and that only a small camera crew crossed the Mexican border to film a few background shots to be added in, this story takes on the possibility that Elvis had in fact gone to Mexico but a certain disastrous occasion forced him to leave and expunge any evidence of his journey. Ruibérriz serves as a translator for his idol, paid to instruct towards correct pronunciation since Elvis must sing Guadalajara in Spanish for the film. Language barriers become a critical component to the novella, initially shown as having comical implications. 'he thought it was hilarious when I told him what Tupelo means in Spanish if you divide the first two syllables (“your hair,” he repeated, laughing uproariously) especially since it sounds so much like toupee.' Much of the humor surrounds puns and comedic phrasings, making language the focus of this story.
Translation and language are an important aspect of any Marías novel, the author being on of Spain’s leading translators from English. He is careful to explore the implications of any switch in dialogue between the tu and usted form, and has a repertoire of clever methods to ensure certain language-specific jokes won’t be ground away in by the gears of translation.
How could I explain to Mr. Presley, at that moment, that the tough guys were using nouns in the feminine gender to refer to McGraw, la nena vieja, pesada, la bailona, English nouns have no gender and I wasn’t going to give him a Spanish lesson right there on the dance floor.Language barriers become a breading ground for potential violence when a bar fight breaks out and Ruibérriz must translate between the two parties, emphasizing the difficult role a translator must take on as he must navigate through the languages as if running across a minefield.
"Ah, you didn’t do anything but translate,” the fat gangster—and the most gravely insulted—replies. “Too bad we don’t know if that’s true, we don’t speak English. Whatever Elvis said we didn’t understand, but you we understood, you speak very clearly, in a little bit of a rush like everyone else back in Spain, but we hear you loud and clear and you can rest assured that we’re listening."The translator is the immediate voice delivering secondhand messages, the bearer of news, and despite only being a messenger, they are the ones most accessible to their own words which are not entirely their own. As in films set in medieval times, it is the messenger that must face the consequences of another’s words, words that inevitably become theirs once they pass from their own lips.
A similar idea is explored in [b:Tomorrow in the Battle Think on Me|1292760|Tomorrow in the Battle Think on Me|Javier Marías|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1347231981l/1292760._SY75_.jpg|1281855], that ‘once a story has been told, it’s anyone’s, it becomes common currency, it gets twisted and distorted, and we all tell our own version.’ Although it is Elvis’ insult that Ruibérriz delivers, it must inevitably become his as well since he is twisting and reshaping it through languages, unable to avoid putting his own interpretation on the words and thereby making them essentially his own. It is key then that Marías should write from the first-person perspective, to use the voice of the teller, as it is the telling of the story that trumps the story itself. Which makes the translations of his work into English, in this case by Ether Allen (Borges, Flaubert) instead of the usual Margaret Jull Costas (Saramago, Pessoa), an impressive task. Allen does well by leaving the speech of the ‘whitewashed gangsters in Spanish, allowing the reader the catharsis of language gaps and to remain at the mercy of Ruibérriz’s translations to understand what is said (well, for a reader who doesn’t speak Spanish or isn’t inclined to use an online translator.)
He’s killing him, killing him, he is killing him, no one could have seen it coming, death can be as stupid and unexpected as they say, you walk into some dive without ever imagining that everything can end there in the most ridiculous way and in a second, one, two, and three and four, and every second that passes without anyone intervening makes this irreversible death more certain, the death that is happening as we watch…The immediacy, unpredictability, and irreversibility of death is often explored with stunning depth and insight by Marías. ‘One, two, and three and four’ is often scattered throughout the novella, like a mantra, a counting of seconds where each one is a reassurance that a person is still alive in the present and not relegated to the past, a simple change of tense that is utterly irreversible, as he is quick to mention and repeat. All lives lead to a death that often strikes without any warning or often without the courtesy of introductions, lurking in the future for our lives to reach it. ‘[A]nd without knowing it he has been waiting twenty-two years for me, my life is short and is ending against the dry grass of a back yard on the outskirts of Mexico City…’
This novella has an incredible circular feel to it, beginning and ending on the same sentiments that ‘No one knows what it is to be hunted down without having lived it,’ Described through his signature manner of digressions and philosophical wit, bookending the novella with the sound of ‘venomous footsteps, setting off with all hatred to destroy me,’ brilliantly seals the story while leaving the reader with a feel that this isolated incident incited a lifelong feeling of escape. The narrator has looked death in the face and ran headlong into the maelstrom of life, knowing that death is always seeking him out.
When you’re being hunted down like that you feel as if your pursuers do nothing but search for you, chase you twenty-four hours a day: you’re convinced that they don’t eat or sleep even for one second, their venomous footsteps are incessant and tireless and there is no rest; they have neither wife nor child nor needs, they don’t need to pee, they don’t pause to chat, they don’t get laid or go to soccer games, they don’t have television sets at home, at most they have a car to pursue you.It comes as no surprise that [a:Roberto Bolaño|72039|Roberto Bolaño|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1617204588p2/72039.jpg] admired his work, as this passage reminded me of Bolaño’s own [b:The Savage Detectives|6586229|The Savage Detectives|Roberto Bolaño|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1328453816l/6586229._SY75_.jpg|2503920]. While a man can be on the run from other humans and hope to survive, we must inevitably succumb to death. We always look back on our lives, reflecting on the places we have been, the people we knew and know, and the people we have been, and then we tell these stories to affect a place of permanence in the world and the memories of those around us because one day death will catch us and our present will end as we become a figure only able to be spoken of in the past tense.
[M]y eyes only look back while those of my pursuers look ahead, at my dark back, and so they are bound to catch up with me always.
Javier Marías is an incredible writer and it is stunning to see how well he boils down his major themes into this slim novella without sacrificing any of the punch. Both wildly comedic and stoically ponderous, Bad Nature is a fantastic story that would make an excellent introduction to this fabulous author as well as a quick dive back into his world for those already familiar with him. It is especially entertaining for those who have also read [b:Tomorrow in the Battle Think on Me|1292760|Tomorrow in the Battle Think on Me|Javier Marías|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1347231981l/1292760._SY75_.jpg|1281855], or [b:The Infatuations|13618374|The Infatuations|Javier Marías|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1342032539l/13618374._SY75_.jpg|15943400] (which alludes to the Elvis incident here) and are already familiar with the loveable scoundrel Ruibérriz de Torres. Bad Nature, or With Elvis in Mexico is a short, fantastic book that is sure to delight.
4/5
‘[A] pick is killing him that has been waiting, thrown down in a backyard, for a thousand years, a pick to split open the grassy soil and dig an improvised grave, a pick that may never have tasted blood before, the blood that still smells more like fish and is still wet and welling out and staining the wind that is rushing away from the storm.’
trin's review against another edition
4.0
If you float around in certain semi-pretentious bookish circles, Javier Marías is one of those names you hear tossed around, usually coupled with a statement like, “is going to win the Nobel Prize for Literature!” As pretentious as I'm sure I myself can be at times, a statement such as this is actually not likely to make me rush out and want to read a writer's work. The Nobel Prize committee and I do not seem to have terribly similar tastes. Do I need to go off again about how much I hated [b:Blindness|2526|Blindness|José Saramago|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1161054077s/2526.jpg|3213039]? No, I don't think I do.
So this guy Marías: I was suspicious. Especially because the previous work of his we'd carried was his epic [b:Your Face Tomorrow|254351|Your Face Tomorrow Fever And Spear|Javier Marías|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1173169866s/254351.jpg|516776], which I've heard described as “1,000 pages detailing 10 minutes of espionage.” Further, when I peeked at the first volume's first page, it seemed to consist of a single paragraph and some infinitely long sentences. Not really my cuppa.
But then Bad Nature arrived, and it was of a much more manageable size, and it had an amusing subtitle (or With Elvis in Mexico). I opened it up and yup, there were those long, twisty sentences again, but suddenly I found them addictive and compelling—they grabbed me like an undertow and dragged me into this bizarre, hilarious, and wonderfully dark tale of Elvis' Spanish translator and the scary shenanigans he and the King get up to in Mexico while shooting a film. This short little book really is like a whirlpool: it's exhilarating to find yourself sucked in, tossed around—narrowly avoiding some sharp rocks—and then chucked back out again. I resort to metaphor because a large portion of the joy of this story is discovering it for yourself, being surprised by it. I for one was not expecting such humor and verve. If they're at all like this, then 1,000 pages detailing 10 minutes of espionage do not sound at all bad to me. Hell, go ahead and throw in that Nobel Prize.
So this guy Marías: I was suspicious. Especially because the previous work of his we'd carried was his epic [b:Your Face Tomorrow|254351|Your Face Tomorrow Fever And Spear|Javier Marías|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1173169866s/254351.jpg|516776], which I've heard described as “1,000 pages detailing 10 minutes of espionage.” Further, when I peeked at the first volume's first page, it seemed to consist of a single paragraph and some infinitely long sentences. Not really my cuppa.
But then Bad Nature arrived, and it was of a much more manageable size, and it had an amusing subtitle (or With Elvis in Mexico). I opened it up and yup, there were those long, twisty sentences again, but suddenly I found them addictive and compelling—they grabbed me like an undertow and dragged me into this bizarre, hilarious, and wonderfully dark tale of Elvis' Spanish translator and the scary shenanigans he and the King get up to in Mexico while shooting a film. This short little book really is like a whirlpool: it's exhilarating to find yourself sucked in, tossed around—narrowly avoiding some sharp rocks—and then chucked back out again. I resort to metaphor because a large portion of the joy of this story is discovering it for yourself, being surprised by it. I for one was not expecting such humor and verve. If they're at all like this, then 1,000 pages detailing 10 minutes of espionage do not sound at all bad to me. Hell, go ahead and throw in that Nobel Prize.
btrz's review against another edition
dark
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
capodoglio's review against another edition
2.0
Di Marías avevo già letto Mañana en la batalla piensa en mí, elogiato da più parti. Breve divertissement, in realtà offre alcuni spunti interessanti.
Sul set di Fun in Acapulco, Elvis richiede l’ausilio di un madrelingua spagnolo (di Spagna) per la sua pronuncia del castigliano. La vicenda è narrata in prima persona da quest’ultimo, tra la colorita fauna del set e l’entourage personale del Re. L’insaziabile desiderio di vita notturna di un iperattivo Elvis metterà in pericolo se stesso ed i suoi accompagnatori, in particolare il nostro narratore.
Marías torna quindi su di una figura secondaria, grigia (il protagonista di Mañana en la batalla piensa en mí era un negro, cioè un ghost writer) e lo inserisce questa volta in una situazione improbabile. La letteratura si alimenta degli interstizi della cultura popolare: il set di un film con Elvis Presley ed Ursula Andress. Ma le cose si fanno interessanti già a partire dall'ambientazione, dato che, come la stessa wikipedia spiega, Elvis non è mai stato ad Acapulco in vita sua...
(commento del 2006, recentemente riesumato)
Sul set di Fun in Acapulco, Elvis richiede l’ausilio di un madrelingua spagnolo (di Spagna) per la sua pronuncia del castigliano. La vicenda è narrata in prima persona da quest’ultimo, tra la colorita fauna del set e l’entourage personale del Re. L’insaziabile desiderio di vita notturna di un iperattivo Elvis metterà in pericolo se stesso ed i suoi accompagnatori, in particolare il nostro narratore.
Marías torna quindi su di una figura secondaria, grigia (il protagonista di Mañana en la batalla piensa en mí era un negro, cioè un ghost writer) e lo inserisce questa volta in una situazione improbabile. La letteratura si alimenta degli interstizi della cultura popolare: il set di un film con Elvis Presley ed Ursula Andress. Ma le cose si fanno interessanti già a partire dall'ambientazione, dato che, come la stessa wikipedia spiega, Elvis non è mai stato ad Acapulco in vita sua...
(commento del 2006, recentemente riesumato)
discomagpie's review against another edition
adventurous
dark
mysterious
tense
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
5.0
I rated this book 5/5 stars on InsatiableBooksluts.com.
Review excerpt (from a Death Match post against [b:Varamo|341664|Varamo (Narrativas Hispanicas)|César Aira|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1173894681s/341664.jpg|332032] by César Aira):
"Bad Nature is a day-in-the-life-gone-wrong tale that follows the narrator through the most life-changing day in his existence. ...“Roy Berry,” the name American coworkers gave the narrator to replace the hard-to-pronounce Ruibérriz, has been hired as a language coach for none other than Elvis Presley, who is to star in a film entitled Fun in Acapulco. Elvis, apparently, has decided that he wants a Spanish accent, a classy European accent, rather than a Mexican accent, and Elvis gets what Elvis wants. Roy, being from Spain, is tapped for the job, which includes six weeks in Acapulco alongside the King. This job sounds like heaven; unfortunately for Roy, things take a terribly wrong turn one night when a member of the Elvis entourage offends a Mexican gangster in a bar with some salacious (and hilarious) dancing. Roy is forced to translate the proceedings for both parties. The words 'fat f**got' may or may not come into play."
Read the full review at our site, and see who won the Death Match!
Review excerpt (from a Death Match post against [b:Varamo|341664|Varamo (Narrativas Hispanicas)|César Aira|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1173894681s/341664.jpg|332032] by César Aira):
"Bad Nature is a day-in-the-life-gone-wrong tale that follows the narrator through the most life-changing day in his existence. ...“Roy Berry,” the name American coworkers gave the narrator to replace the hard-to-pronounce Ruibérriz, has been hired as a language coach for none other than Elvis Presley, who is to star in a film entitled Fun in Acapulco. Elvis, apparently, has decided that he wants a Spanish accent, a classy European accent, rather than a Mexican accent, and Elvis gets what Elvis wants. Roy, being from Spain, is tapped for the job, which includes six weeks in Acapulco alongside the King. This job sounds like heaven; unfortunately for Roy, things take a terribly wrong turn one night when a member of the Elvis entourage offends a Mexican gangster in a bar with some salacious (and hilarious) dancing. Roy is forced to translate the proceedings for both parties. The words 'fat f**got' may or may not come into play."
Read the full review at our site, and see who won the Death Match!
soulpopped's review against another edition
4.0
having just seen fun in acapulco, my friend suggested i read this. it's well-written and compelling, but somehow the real backstory (at least, according to the wiki) of what happened surrounding this shoot is even crazier than the fiction on display here.
wildcatrevival's review against another edition
adventurous
dark
tense
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
4.25
christinejschmidt's review against another edition
3.0
I love me some Elvis, but this one left me wanting.
beth79's review against another edition
adventurous
dark
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
4.25