DEATH MATCH the Fourth: Varamo vs. Bad Nature, or With Elvis in Mexico

Blogger’s note: An advance reader copy of Varamo was provided by New Directions.

Welcome to another rousing edition of DEATH MATCH! Miss Amy usually brings you this segment, but I happened into a duo of books that I wanted to put head-to-head, so here I am, bring you my very first death match and hoping to hell that I don’t screw it up.

Two books enter. One book leaves.

Today’s contenders are both novelettes by Spanish-language authors, César Aira and Javier Marías. Who will prevail? Will it be, in this corner, The Prolific Penman of Argentina, with a book weighing in at a hefty (well, more hefty) 89 pages*? Or, in this corner, The Linguistic Spaniard, with a work weighing in at a mere 55 pages? Stay tuned, book fans, for the thrilling conclusion!

(Amazon says that Varamo is 144 pages. The edition I have in my hands is 89. There may be additional material that I don’t have.)

Book: Varamo

Author: César Aira

Published: 2002 by Editorial Anagrama, S.A. (in Spanish); 2/22/12 by New Directions, translated by Chris Andrews; 89 pages (in English)

Date Read: January 27, 2012

First Lines: ”One day, in 1923, in the city of Colón (Panama), a third-class clerk, having finished work and, since it was payday, passed by the cashier’s desk to collect his monthly salary, left the Ministry in which he was employed. In the interval between that moment and the dawn of the following day, ten or twelve hours later, he completed the composition of a long poem, from the initial decision to write it up to the final period, after which there were no further additions or corrections.”

Genre: Literary fiction

Varamo tells the tale of the title character, who starts his day as an ordinary clerk and finishes as the writer of one of the most celebrated poems in Central America. No one would peg Varamo as a likely candidate for literary brilliance; a middle-aged bachelor, he lives at home with his mother, whose grip on reality is tenuous at best; in his spare time, creates amateur (but enthusiastic) works of taxidermy. The Ministry pays him two hundred pesos a month, and, to his dismay, he has somehow been paid this month in counterfeit bills. In his quest to relieve himself of the bills and gain genuine currency, Varamo has a series of adventures that lead him to the inevitable conclusion of his extraordinary authorship.

I enjoyed this book–indeed, reading Varamo got me out of my post-holiday reading slump. (Yay!) The book started off a humorous read, but the hilarity of it didn’t click for me until halfway through, when I found myself cackling as the narrator described how, exactly, he had come by his information about Varamo to write the book. (I won’t spoil it, but oh, how I laughed.) Aira also has a knack for plunging you directly into the scene as a participant rather than an observer. The book covers only one day in the life of Varamo, but in all likelihood, this day was the only day that mattered; Aira distills and concentrates the story, giving you a perfect bite without leaving you wanting.

You may have noticed above that Varamo has not yet hit the shelves; don’t worry, my Booksluttians, you will be able to get your hands on a copy in less than a month. By that time, you’ll be able to have read our next selection, and you can compare them for yourself!

Book: Bad Nature, or With Elvis in Mexico

Author: Javier Marías

Published: 1996 in Spanish; 1999 in Granta magazine, translated by Esther Allen; 2010 by New Directions, translated by Esther Allen

Date Read: First read, early 2010; again 2/1/2012

First Lines: “No one knows what it is to be hunted down without having lived it, and unless the chase was active and constant, carried out with deliberation, determination, dedication and never a break, with perseverance and fanaticism, as if the pursuers had nothing else to do in life but look for you, keep after you, follow your trail, locate you, catch up with you and then, at best, wait for the moment to settle the score.”

Genre: Literary fiction

The back of Bad Nature reads, “It all happened because of Elvis Presley.”  Are you intrigued yet? Because I was.

Bad Nature is a day-in-the-life-gone-wrong tale that, like Varamo, follows the narrator through the most life-changing day in his existence. Bad Nature, though, is a darker tale with brilliant flashes of humor, rather than a witty ride through the absurd. “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 faggot” may or may not come into play.

Marías blends fact and fiction to create a tale that reads like a tell-all about one of our most beloved icons. He dives into the world of celebrity, painting a noble (if flawed) portrait of The King through the eyes of a narrator who, although an admirer, has a certain distance that comes from being born outside of America. The book, though, isn’t about Elvis, and Marías doesn’t let us forget that; in the end, we’re left alone with Roy, as the sun rises to end the most turbulent and disturbing night of his life.

To read Marías is to make a study of language; Marías uses language oh-so-deliberately and often expounds on the subject of translation. Bad Nature is no different, with the narrator himself being employed as a translator. We come to see in the story how translation is not necessarily a process of exchanging words from one language to the other; indeed, there is a wider context to be considered, and sometimes, just sometimes, it may be more necessary to shoot the messenger than the original sender. (That doesn’t mean I’m saying that Roy gets shot. Like I’d give you that kind of spoiler.)

As Amy says, “The rules of DEATH MATCH are simple. THERE ARE NO RULES. No, sorry, that’s not true, there are totally rules. The rules are: I will score the books on an arbitrary system and, at the end, ONE BOOK WINS. What does the book win? YOU SHALL SEE.”

Today’s DEATH MATCH will be scored with: taxidermied animals displayed behind a car that Elvis used to drive. Yes, this really does exist:

Varamo:

• Varamo’s quest to create a tableau of a fish playing a piano, only to find out (too late) that the fish has no arms: +3 taxidermied animals
• My own intense relief when Aira described the feeling one gets when a noise that has been invading your consciousness suddenly stops: +2 taxidermied animals
• A somewhat removed air that doesn’t let you get too close to the characters: -1 taxidermied animal
• The Góngoras sisters: +1 taxidermied animal
• A hobo who emphatically claims everyone owes him money and harasses people until they pay him: +2 taxidermied animals
• A humorous send-up of writing, publishing, and literary criticism: +2 taxidermied animals
• Secret spy stuff that causes a hilarious misunderstanding: +1 taxidermied animal

Rating: 5/5 accidentally-embalmed fish dinners

Bad Nature or With Elvis in Mexico:

• Elvis: +5 taxidermied animals
• Sentences that, while gorgeous and appropriate, are the most run-on of run-on sentences forever: -1 taxidermied animal
• George McGraw’s dancing: +2 taxidermied animals
• Sentences that were in Spanish, and me having forgotten enough Spanish that I had to guess at them: -1 taxidermied animal
• Seamless merging of fact and fiction: +2 taxidermied animals
• The dark twist at the end: +1 taxidermied animal
• The fact that it takes place in Mexico, and I love Mexico: +3 taxidermied animals

Rating: 5/5 green silk scarves stolen from mafiosos

The winner of today’s DEATH MATCH, in the lead by a hair (or a hare) with 11 taxidermied animals to 10 taxidermied animals:

Bad Nature!

Congratulations, señor Marías! Today’s prize is:

A bowl of bacon! Congratulations! Elvis would be so touched. And he would totally want to share your bacon. My husband told me that, because Elvis always had a bowl of bacon at the ready, one of his pianos at Graceland actually had clear ivory keys, because the bacon grease had somehow magically made them transparent. I cannot verify this story, so it may be completely made up.

Come back again for our next round of DEATH MATCH, where we will pit two more equally worthy adversaries against one another until the BITTER, BITTER END!