Camanchaca – Diego Zúñiga (translated by Megan McDowell)

Canamchaca

An even shorter review today, for an even shorter book…

Today I take a short break from the 2017 Man Booker International Prize Shadow Jury duties and visit a recent release from Chile. Yesterday I reviewed the 2017 MBIP longlisted novel “Fever Dream” by Samanta Schweblin, a novel translated by Megan McDowell so let’s keep the translator theme going by looking at a book released by Coffee House Press in the USA, “Camanchaca” by Diego Zúñiga, also translated by Megan McDowell.

Another short novel Zúñiga’s work is a coming-of-age story undertaken by a young boy, traversing the country with his father;

My father’s first car was a 1971 Ford Fairlane, which my grandfather gave him with he turned fifteen.
His second was a 1985 Honda Accord, lead gray.
His third was a 1990 BMW 850i, navy blue, which he killed my Uncle Neno with.
His fourth is a Ford Ranger, smoke colored, which we are driving across the Atacama Desert. (p1)

So opens this book, a work where you learn so much from being presented with so little. From this opening quote (which is the whole opening page) we can see our narrator’s father moving into money somehow, killing his own brother (or brother-in-law) and now onto a road trip, are they escaping something?

Written in sparse open prose, the pages are filled with blank spaces, there are pauses and silences, the detached tone, invoking isolation, you are stranded with our narrator in the desert.

She told the story. In complete detail. Full of silences. (p12)

Our narrator, recalls stories from his mother, as he listens begrudgingly to worn out clichés from his father, who is attempting some connection. The protagonist interrupting any attempt at conversation by putting on his headphones, more silence on the page…

Slowly, through the stories told by his mother, “like someone putting together and taking apart a worn-out puzzle”, we begin to see some clarity, the puzzle is taking shape.

But something happened that day. It was an image that would repeat itself for years. Me dancing, no partner, in the middle of a group. (p89)

An isolated youth, the unique voice of confusion and separation from his parents, and grandparents, a young man attempting to find his own place in the world, is told in a wonderfully sparse and gnarled manner. Through “the desert fog, the camanchaca”. We piece together our narrator’s coming of age. Although sparse there are unplumbed depths here, just see the opening page quote…

Another wonderful work from South America, a region I am drawn closer and closer to as I travel the world of literature, obscure, playing with form and content, this style of novel is one that appeals very much to my tastes. Not at all formulaic, you simply do not know what the next page will bring. Like “Fever Dream” by Samanta Schweblin, this is a book you can read in a single sitting, which I did, and as soon as you have finished, you feel like turning back to the first page and starting all over again, to understand the depths a little more, explore the silences and empty spaces just a little further.

Another wonderful revelation translated by Megan McDowell, a translator whose work I have thoroughly enjoyed with all five books of hers I have read, I know that I will be looking for her name on the cover of other releases, they’ll be added to my reading lists…

Tomorrow I plan to be back with the shortlists from the 2017 Best Translated Book Award (maybe Zúñiga and McDowell will be there in 2018?) and then back to the Man Booker International Prize longlist with a review of “Judas” by Amos Oz.

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3 thoughts on “Camanchaca – Diego Zúñiga (translated by Megan McDowell)

  1. Pingback: August – Romina Paula (translated by Jennifer Croft) | Messenger's Booker (and more)

  2. Pingback: August – Romina Paula (translated by Jennifer Croft) | Messenger's Booker (and more)

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