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A review by savaging
El señor presidente by Miguel Ángel Asturias
4.0
"No hay que dar esperanzas. ¿Cuándo entenderás que no hay que dar esperanzas? En mi casa, lo primero, lo que todos debemos saber, hasta el gato, es que no se dan esperanzas de ninguna especie a nadie. En estos puestos se mantiene uno porque hace lo que le ordenan y la regla de conducta del Señor Presidente es no dar esperanza; y pisotearlos y zurrarse en todos porque sí."
Extraordinary book, sunk deep in the dismal world in a Latin American dictatorship (based on Guatemala under Cabrera). Not just awful but eerie, which is a trick Asturias does through music. Some of this music is serious, the poetry of defeat and the soundtrack to the heart's big battles ("Cada martillito del piano, caja de imanes, reunía las arenas finísimas del sonido, soltándolas, luego de tenerlas juntas, en los dedos de los arpegios que des . . . do . . . bla . . . ban las falangas para llamar a la puerta del amor cerrada para siempre; siempre los mismos dedos; siempra la misma mano."). But the most important music is maybe the profane little ditties and the rhythmic repetition of the insane flotsam on the street. The book carries the tone of that ditty whistled through a horror show and Grand Tragedy -- the mass-murderers, these "hipersuperhombres," are ridiculous little men with petty desires and temper tantrums. They are funny. Or they would be if they weren't all-powerful. The members of society that jump to conform with every whim of the dictator are laughable, but if you laugh they will inform on you and land you in a torture chamber.
I wasn't sold on the main love story, too much a tired damsel-in-distress tale to carry so much weight. The most interesting characters were on the beggars and lunatics always at the fringe of any action.
Very challenging read for someone with my Spanish level -- I had to go very slowly. Also challenging emotionally: friends asked why I was puttering around like the Lost for days and I had to explain I was just reading Asturias.
Extraordinary book, sunk deep in the dismal world in a Latin American dictatorship (based on Guatemala under Cabrera). Not just awful but eerie, which is a trick Asturias does through music. Some of this music is serious, the poetry of defeat and the soundtrack to the heart's big battles ("Cada martillito del piano, caja de imanes, reunía las arenas finísimas del sonido, soltándolas, luego de tenerlas juntas, en los dedos de los arpegios que des . . . do . . . bla . . . ban las falangas para llamar a la puerta del amor cerrada para siempre; siempre los mismos dedos; siempra la misma mano."). But the most important music is maybe the profane little ditties and the rhythmic repetition of the insane flotsam on the street. The book carries the tone of that ditty whistled through a horror show and Grand Tragedy -- the mass-murderers, these "hipersuperhombres," are ridiculous little men with petty desires and temper tantrums. They are funny. Or they would be if they weren't all-powerful. The members of society that jump to conform with every whim of the dictator are laughable, but if you laugh they will inform on you and land you in a torture chamber.
I wasn't sold on the main love story, too much a tired damsel-in-distress tale to carry so much weight. The most interesting characters were on the beggars and lunatics always at the fringe of any action.
Very challenging read for someone with my Spanish level -- I had to go very slowly. Also challenging emotionally: friends asked why I was puttering around like the Lost for days and I had to explain I was just reading Asturias.