The Thinking-About-Gladys Machine by Mario Levrero

Wildly creative and often daunting in its abstraction this work of demented genius will appeal to lovers of expressionist art and radical literature.

The Thinking-About-Gladys Machine by Mario Levrero
And Other Stories
Paperback | $19.95
9781916751064
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Absurd. Chaotic. Bizarre. Unhinged. Disjointed. All of these can be aptly applied as descriptions for this collection of stories from an Uruguayan writer who has no peer, as far as this reader can discern. A non-stop fever dream of imaginative creations, often difficult to rationalize into a cogent plot, landscape or cast of characters, these episodes are the children of a genius. A possibly demented genius, but certainly a writer of exceptional skill. Reading this book is like walking through an exhibition of modern art. This one is abstract expressionism: no object, creature or human shape is evident, but a strong feeling is evoked by the juxtaposition of elements and their vivid presentation. This one, impressionist: unfocused vision of softened edges with an emphasis on how light lands on the subject, on how the pixels of color reach the retina, not precisely delineating the form but still creating recognizable depictions of real life. Another, a Dali-esque nightmare of commonly encountered things in bizarre permutations: the dripping clock, the flayed figure, the floating crockery. And, in a stunning display of literary prestidigitation, Levrero produces 20 pages of manic dialogue in a single sentence, bringing to mind the minimal/maximal technique of pointillist painting; a single image made of tiny pieces meticulously placed to fool the senses of the audience. Mysterious, powerful and touching in turns.

 

If this seems to describe prose that is difficult to access, it is not meant to. Here are two examples of the author’s mastery of the language (the translation is prize-winning). First, the author describing the less-than-stellar arrival of the book on the publishing stage.

“…almost the entire print run – were turned back into pulp, and that very paper pulp might just be supporting a worthy book today.”
And, with another self-deprecating note, from one of the stories about a strange child wandering through a sinister house, discovering disturbing things, two passages.

“There were some words and phrases he didn’t understand because, although he wasn’t so small that he couldn’t follow a normal conversation, his parents often discussed difficult subjects that lay beyond his grasp. For example: could anyone here explain the tetravalency of carbon? Or cases of irrationality in logarithms? I’ve never understood that kind of stuff at all myself, and that’s why I’m writing stories now instead of doing something useful with my time.”

“children don’t possess things, ownership being a matter for grown-ups, indeed the principal matter for grown-ups, so important that History and wars are spun on its lathe…”

 

This happy madness is not for everyone: those who need a firm rock upon which to base their impressions will find this work unhelpful. Those who appreciate free-form thinking and a seriously alternative approach to the world will find it engaging.