The Book Tower

Roberto Bolano died in 2004. As I sink further and further into his intriguing last novel 2666 I realise more and more what a loss this is. Bolano’s dying wish was for this huge and sprawling work to be published in five seperate instalments in as many years. His decision was never honoured and the novel is now available in full as the 900 page masterpiece it is shaping up to be. Whilst I can understand Bolano’s intention, I am glad I have the whole work in my grasp. And I say shaping up because I am only halfway through the book.

2666 is a difficult book. Its length, its voice and its intention. At times I am unclear, at others there’s a breakthrough and I begin to understand. Bolano’s view of the world is so unique that it’s often very difficult to keep in step with him. Reading 2666 is often like examining the world, as we all do, up close. Like Bolano, we need to take a step or two back in order to take in the whole view. And sometimes it’s hard to remove the blinkers.

The first section of the novel is called The Part About the Critics. Three academics from different corners of Europe become obsessed with an obscure writer called Archimboldi. Think of a German J.D. Salinger, but slightly more reclusive. During their travels between conferences they become friends and meet a third, female, Archimboldi enthusiast. Two of them embark on affairs with her, which strangely intersect, whilst her relationship with the third, who is disabled, also begins to deepen. Along the way they decamp to a fictional Mexican city called Santa Teresa, where a series of brutal and unsolved murders are taking place. So far the murders are merely on the periphery of the plot, and Bolano is keener to focus on dreams and the dark corners of the world.

The Part About Amalfitano is the second and more difficult section, which concerns a poet, his daughter and his estranged wife. It is mostly set in Santa Teresa, and Amalfitano has previously made an appearance with the academics in the first section. Again, the murder story has a brief mention. The Amalfitano section is confusing and obscure – this is a character who decides, in a moment of inspired obscurity, to hang a geometry book on his washing line. I can only presume it is setting the scene for later chapters, and Amalfitano’s daughter, Rosa, eventually does makes an appearance in the third section. The Part About Fate begins as a much more accessible chapter. Oscar Fate is a journalist sent along to cover a boxing match, who is drawn into the edges of the murder story and the seedy streets and lives of Santa Teresa. Each of Bolano’s characters, like the reader, is drawn into the black hole of his chosen setting.

2666 is a book that’s taken the wind out of me lately. I’ve been overworked and run down, so it’s possibly a foolish choice in my reading matter. Then again, Bolano is a writer who steps right in front of you and prods you in the chest with a demanding look in his eye. Never one to just let the mediocre wash over me, I accept the challenge.

What am I on about? More importantly, what is he on about? Stay tuned until I read some more…